The Clearing

A black bear stood in a clearing about thirty yards ahead of Avery on the Pacific Crest Trail (PCT). A gray fox sat beside it. As Avery turned the corner to get a better view, her hand flew to her mouth, stifling a gasp. A man and woman were facing the bear and the fox. They looked, impossibly, like they were mid-conversation. 

A black bear on the PCT? No problem. Make yourself big. Don’t run. Remember: They’re more scared of you. But this wasn’t a normal black bear encounter. Hands shaking, Avery darted behind a nearby pine tree. Rough bark dug into her hands as she gripped the tree, and peered around it. Faint voices drifted through the forest, accompanied by the grunt of the bear and chitter of the fox.  

Maybe the isolation was finally getting to her. Maybe she should’ve listened to her father. Hiking the PCT alone was a bad idea. 

She stood perfectly still, trying to make out what they were saying. They were entirely calm, engaged in civil conversation. But suddenly, the bear turned sharply in Avery’s direction, the man and woman following its gaze. Avery made eye contact with the man as he mouthed, “Go.” The bear and fox surged toward her.

Oh no, oh no, no, no, no. Avery swung off her pack and darted into the dense brush. 

Heavy thudding pounded behind her, but her vision narrowed on the path before her. Brambles scraped her legs and arms as she dodged trees and rocks. Heart hammering in her ears, she barely managed to leap over a fallen tree. A blur of gray fur flashed in her periphery, then directly in front of her, causing her to crash hard into the dirt. Groaning, she twisted around, certain the bear would be right there. 

But the bear had stopped just a few feet away, a curious look in its eye. They stared at each other, waiting to see who would move first. When the bear took a slow step toward her, she scrambled to her feet and fled. 

To her right, there was a cliff with an unknown drop-off. No time for hesitation, she headed toward it, praying the fall wasn’t deadly, but steep enough to deter her attackers. 

Before she could reach the edge, the bear lunged. The bear swiped her legs out from under her. Avery flew headfirst into a boulder and everything faded to black.

Avery slowly blinked her eyes open, becoming painfully aware of the throbbing in her temple. Stone walls and a fuzzy light came into focus. It was a cave, empty beside the canvas cot Avery lay on, a small table with a lantern and glass of water, and a chair. One scratchy wool blanket covered her. She forced herself to swallow, refusing to drink the unfamiliar water.

Across the cave, the man and woman from the clearing were whispering. Avery squeezed the blanket as she noticed the bear lying in the corner, its head resting on its paws, listening.

“…we can’t stop now, not now that we’re making progress…” the woman murmured.

The bear raised his head and huffed a short reply. “You don’t know that, Rufus,” the man scolded. The bear dropped his head back into his paws with a heavy sigh, defeated. 

A sharp spike of pain shot through Avery’s temple. Her hand instinctively reached to soothe it, but the rustling of the cot stopped the whispers. The man, woman, and bear all turned in her direction. 

“I’ll go get Michael,” the man exclaimed as he hurried down a tunnel branching off the back of the cave.

The man returned with Michael. Avery’s eyes widened at the raccoon that scurried in after him. The man stopped at the entrance, but the raccoon continued over to Avery. She tried to shimmy away as it dropped a few raspberries next to her. It looked up at her with gentle eyes, squeaked and returned to Michael. Avery stared after it, uncertain about the strange act of kindness a raccoon just showed her. She officially determined she was losing her mind.

“Teddy says you need to nourish yourself. And he’s right. You’ve had an eventful afternoon, Avery,” Michael said as he pulled up the chair next to Avery’s cot.

There were a million questions going through Avery’s mind, but she managed to ask “How do you know my name?” 

“I’m sorry, I should introduce myself,” Michael responded, ignoring her question. “My name is Michael. This is Theo and Ally.” He raised his hand back towards the man and woman from the clearing. “And we mean you no harm.” 

He petted Teddy, who had curled up on his lap, “Tell me, Avery. Why are you hiking the PCT alone?”

“I have a head injury. I need to go to a hospital,” Avery stated. 

Michael nodded. “Theo bandaged your head up for you. You took a nasty fall out there and probably have a concussion. He’ll monitor your vitals.”

“Why are you doing this? And…” Avery tried to sit up, annoyed at his indirectness, but she had to ask. “How can you speak with animals?” 

“We are a group of researchers from Berkeley,” Michael said proudly. “Or, we were. A few years ago we discovered a neural link between humans and animals that allows us to communicate.” 

Avery stared at him, surely a scientific breakthrough like that would be on the news. 

 “I know you’re skeptical, and you should be. Talking to animals?” Michael huffed, as if he believed it wasn’t possible. “The University ethics board shut it down before we could really even begin.” 

Avery opened her mouth but Michael kept going. “We were just tired. Tired of the endless news cycles. The constant threat of the world collapsing. Selfishly, I admit, we wanted to escape. So, Theo, Ally, and I took the technology and fled for the wilderness. We’re building a society where humans and animals can actually thrive together. No more degrading their habitat…”

Avery couldn’t take it. “Please let me go,” she interrupted. 

Michael's lips tightened together, clearly not happy with her disinterest in their operation. “We can let you go.” 

Avery’s shoulders relaxed. 

“But we’d have to wipe your memory first,” he said calmly, a feverish look in his eye. “It’s an experimental technology we developed for this…sort of situation. We can’t let anyone know our operation exists.”

“Please. I won’t tell anyone. I swear. I don’t have any roommates or friends really. I’m a data analyst with no life. I wouldn’t…” 

“We know,” Michael cut her off. “While you were out, Theo did a bit of research. Little internet presence. A lonely, isolated person seeking fulfillment on the PCT. You’re actually just the type of person we look to recruit. See, we started as researchers, but we’ve expanded. You’ll meet them eventually. Max was a software engineer. Lisa, a receptionist. People hiking the PCT all tend to have one trait in common, Avery. A desire to escape civilization.”

Michael leaned back in his chair, staring smugly at Avery. “So, we’ll give you another option. Join us. Wouldn’t you love the ability to communicate with animals? Who wouldn’t want that?”

Avery’s mind raced. Two experimental technologies. Both likely a death sentence. What was the success rate? The side effects? She didn’t trust these people. 

Sensing her hesitation, Theo interjected, “I’m not sure if she’s suited for this life, Michael. She could be a liability.” But Michael continued unbothered.

“We’ll insert the neural link and you too will have the ability to communicate with animals. Any animal. Even Rufus,” Michael said as he gestured to the corner where the bear lay.

Avery stared at Rufus. “Okay.”