x. the strange yellow-eyes
The drive isn't that long thanks to Emmett keeping the Jeep's speedometer at well over a hundred, but they come up with dumb games anyway.
"Traffic Cone."
"Seventies Shag Carpet."
"Easy Mac."
"Nickelodeon Logo."
"Atomic Tangerine."
"Ooh, fuck yeah! I like that one. We should put the word 'atomic' in front of stuff more often," Emmett observes.
"I got it from a crayon," admits Bree, examining her Atomic Tangerine irises in the passenger side mirror.
"Well, after today they'll get yellower, anyway," says Emmett. "Bet I can eat more bears than you," he adds.
"I'm not taking that bet," Bree scoffs. "You're like the size of a tank."
"Then we'll even the playing field a bit," offers Emmett. "How 'bout this: if you can catch and drain two whole adult grizzlies, I'll show you a secret no one else knows."
"Not even Edward?"
"Well, Edward probably knows, but he keeps his mouth shut about it," Emmett admits. "Kid's actually pretty decent under all the whining. Don't tell Rose I said that."
Bree nods. "And if I lose?"
"You have to wash the Jeep when we get back."
A bug squashes against the windshield as if to emphasize the stakes.
"Deal," says Bree before she can doubt herself. After all, how tough can it really be to take down a grizzly?
"Bite deeper! You gotta get to the jugular!" hollers Emmett.
Bree spits out a mouthful of fur. "I'm trying!" She hops into the crook of a tree branch twenty feet off the ground, barely managing to avoid a swipe from the grizzly's enormous paw. The thing is 500 pounds, easy. Bree can hear its massive heart, pumping just a bit slower than a human's, but damn if it isn't buried under layers and layers of muscle and fur.
"Use your momentum to really drive your teeth in!" advises Emmett. The bear's head swings around to follow the sound. From her perch in the tree, Bree puts two fingers to her teeth and wolf-whistles at it.
That does it. The bear's attention is back on her—it digs its claws into the bark and starts to scale the tree, hoisting its enormous bulk up with surprising grace. When it's five feet below her branch—almost within swiping distance—Bree seizes her moment and pounces like a cat, letting gravity do the work this time. She bites, ignoring the fur that tickles her nose. The grizzly lets out a bellow of pain as her teeth sink in. Almost…almost…
The moment the blood hits her tongue, it's like the hallelujah chorus goes off in her head. Okay, so it's not the best blood she's ever had—she shoves down the phantom human-taste that floods her mouth with venom—but it's not bad. Clean, sort of smoky, and there's so much of it, she can't drink fast enough. How the hell is she supposed to drain two of these things?
Somehow, she does it, though it leaves her fuller than she can ever remember feeling in seventeen years. Emmett catches his own bear, which he toys with for a full half hour before eating. Bree can sort of see why none of the others are eager to hunt with him, but she doesn't mind so much, herself.
They're halfway to Emmett's promised secret when they practically stumble onto a third bear. It's the biggest one yet, ambling along with two cubs in its wake. A mother.
"You want it?" whispers Bree, gesturing for Emmett to go ahead.
"Nah," says Emmett. "I don't fuck with momma bears. Don't wanna leave those little bastards orphans."
Bree watches the two cubs tumble onto the riverbank after their mother. "They are pretty cute," she admits.
"Plus, if we let 'em grow up, that's more bears for us next year!" says Emmett.
They sit in silence for a while, watching the mother grizzly take swipes into the water. She's teaching the cubs to fish. The sun is sinking below the trees, turning the river gold and bouncing off Bree's and Emmett's skin to cast little specks of brilliance into the grass around them.
"You ready for the secret?" Emmett asks.
The secret is a cabin, small and mostly unremarkable except for its location—perched almost on the edge of a cliff, high above the valley. "You built this yourself?"
"What, like it's hard?" teases Emmett.
"It's like the house in Up," remarks Bree.
"Heh. Pixar wishes," says Emmett, unlocking the door.
Inside it's almost bare except for the single kerosene lantern Emmett lights, illuminating a lone table set with a single, rusty hunting knife.
Crudely carved at the top of the far wall is the word EMMETT. The rest of the wall is dominated by what must be decades' worth of tally marks—Bree counts 825.
On the next wall over, the word BEARS. There are two marks beneath it.
"Wait," says Bree. "Why do the bears have two points?"
Emmett uses the knife to scratch an 826th mark beneath his name. "That's between me and the bears," he insists. He tosses the knife to Bree, who takes it hesitantly.
"Really?"
Emmett shrugs. "Why not? There's a whole extra wall."
When they leave the cabin, the sun has set and the standings are thus: EMMETT, 826. BEARS, 2. BREE, 2. But Bree is confident she'll catch up soon enough.
The ride back is even shorter than the ride over. It's easier to focus, to relax and laugh at dumb jokes with Emmett, now that the burn in her throat has cooled (thanks, bears.)
"Tropicana."
"Alice's Porsche."
"Dreamworks Minion."
"Sunflower."
"Sunflower? I thought we said no cute ones," says Bree.
"Ah, gimme a break," says Emmett. "They didn't have all this food coloring shit in the 1930s. Not as many yellow foods."
"Sucks to suck," says Bree. "Laser Lemon," she adds thoughtfully.
"Laser Lemon it is. Damn, all that bear juice really went to your head, huh?" Emmett merges over to take the exit that will bring them back to Forks. They lapse into silence for a minute.
Emmett is the one to break it. "So, what'd we think? You gonna keep my secret, kid?"
Bree's Laser Lemon eyes narrow thoughtfully. "I just might."
author's note: this was originally written as a prompt fill for my 600 follower celebration over on tumblr. come find me (url is also volturialice) and join the fun!