They didn't actually take bedrooms in the lodge. They could have – there were plenty to choose from – but there were also several very comfortable couches in both the living room and the rec room on the lower level of the lodge, and these rooms were already somewhat warm and comfortable. It was simply a matter of choosing which sofas they wanted to use and grabbing a couple of blankets out of the closet.
When Andrew finished his ice cream, he found Ian had sacked out on one of the ones in the living room, and decided that he'd just stick to that room as well. The living room was warmer than the rest of the rooms – except the kitchen, because they'd cooked there – and besides, he'd slept plenty of times in that big old green sofa and it was almost like an old friend itself.
He gathered up a comforter from the closet, took off his shoes, wrapped up in the blanket and went to sleep.
OOOOOOOO
In the absolute silence that only comes from being up in the mountains on a cold winter night, Ian woke, hearing an odd noise that was coming from outside. The inside of the lodge was as dark and still as the outside. Andrew had turned off all the lights, and the TV hadn't even been turned on, so there was nothing to muffle the noises coming from outside.
The cadet sat up, his head turning towards the window that faced the front of the ledge – and the parking area. There was a little bit of light coming through that window – the moon wasn't full but it seemed to be extraordinarily bright – but he couldn't see what was making the odd noise because the window itself was lightly fogged and the fog had frozen in the cold. (Not something that normally happened, except that the temperature was still a little less than ideal in the lodge and had dropped considerably outside during the night.)
Ian looked at his watch, saw that it was way too early to be up and started to lay back down again, when he heard the same noise that had woken him in the first place. He sat up again, this time actually coming to his feet. Weird noises in the middle of the night were one thing. Weird noises in the middle of the night in an almost abandoned lodge were quite another story.
Looking over to make sure he wasn't just hearing Andrew, Ian saw that there was a blanket wrapped form sprawled on the couch across from his, from which soft snores were escaping occasionally. Frowning, because he heard the noise again, and it almost sounded like fingernails on a chalkboard, Ian headed for the entranceway, and opened the door.
"Yeesh…"
It was freezing outside. He turned his head, looking for the coat he'd been wearing earlier only to realize that he'd taken it off outside the door that led to the kitchen – after Andrew had taken him out to collect snow for his ice cream. There was another scraping noise, and shivering already, Ian stepped outside onto the porch.
Barefooted and without a jacket – and knowing that his mom would kill him if she saw him like that – Ian walked across the porch and leaned over the rail, his ears telling him where the sound was coming from, even though he couldn't really see all that much. But then, looking towards the parking area, he saw way more than he wanted to.
Two small somethings were crawling around his car, making odd noises that sounded playful as one of them jumped up onto the hood. Ian heard that chalkboard and fingers sound again, and realized it was the creatures' claws damaging his paint job.
"Hey! Knock that shit off!"
He started down the steps, ignoring the cold of the deep snow as he cut across the empty space from the porch to the parking lot at a jog.
Both creatures turned to look at him, and as he got closer, Ian realized they were bears. Little bears. Little bears with big fucking claws, because he could see the scratches on his hood in the moonlight now that he was closer.
"Get off there, you little fucks!"
Surprised by his approach, the bear cubs froze, trying to see if there was danger. One of them was leaning against the windshield of the convertible and the other was on the very front of the hood, almost on the edge. This one squealed when Ian came closer, and ran back to join its sibling at the windshield, its claws gouging the paint on the hood.
Furious at the rough treatment, Ian didn't even see the danger until he was well into it. A much larger form emerged from the dark shadows beside the house, lumbering towards him and bowling him over as she crashed into him. Ian rolled in the deep snow he'd fallen into, something heavy and furry looming over him for just a moment before it took a swipe at him, missing only because she was just as furious as he'd been a moment before.
Foundering in the deep snow, Ian lurched to his feet, only to fall backwards when the female bear pressed her attack, a roar echoing around them as she took another swipe at him with claws that were impossibly long.
Ian threw himself backwards, knowing that he was fucked, because there was no way he was going to be able to move out of the way of the next attack, even as he felt the claws snag on his t-shirt, ripping it – although they only grazed against his skin, luckily. She lashed out again with the other paw, impossibly fast, and his hand came up to protect himself, only to be slashed open.
With a yelp of pain, and grabbing the only thing he could find – a handful of snow – Ian shouted and threw it at the bear, hitting her square in the face. The bear hesitated, but only for a moment. Obviously the snow hadn't hurt her and the scrambling they'd done had put Ian once more between her and the cubs – who had jumped off the car and were hurtling towards the safety of the trees as fast as they could, screaming in fear as their mother protected them from the crazy whatever it was that had attacked them while they played. The bear rose up on her hind legs, roaring as she took a better look at her foe, but just as she was about to launch another attack, a shot rang out through the night, echoing through the area like a crack of a whip and startling the bear and Ian both.
As if she'd been hit by the bullet, the bar jerked backwards, stumbling over a snow bank and lumbering off towards the woods in a dead run after her cubs, and Ian stared as she went, breathing heavily and trying to keep his heart from bursting out of his chest.
"Are you all right?" Andrew asked, running over. He was barefoot as well, wearing nothing but jeans and t-shirt he'd fallen asleep in but carrying a rifle that Ian had noticed hanging above the door of the lodge. Ian had thought it to be purely decorative, but it was obviously not.
"Ian?"
Andrew's voice was concerned, even though Ian was standing up, and the cadet was about as pale as he'd ever seen anyone looking.
"I'm okay…"
He looked down at himself to make sure, and saw that his shirt was ripped and his hand was bleeding. Aside from that, though… it could have been a lot worse.
"What were you thinking?" Andrew asked him, sounding mad. Actually, it was more reaction than anything else, but Ian didn't know the difference. "Are you out of your mind?"
Ian rubbed his chest, smearing his shirt with blood from his hand.
"Do you see what those little fuckers did to my car?"
"She could have killed you."
Ian scowled, still more focused on his car than his injured hand – which was throbbing.
"I didn't even see her until it was too late."
"You never – ever – get between a bear and her cubs," Andrew told him, shifting the rifle from one hand to the other.
"I didn't see her," Ian repeated. Jesus, did he look like Grizzly Adams? "Look at my car…"
It was scratched all to shit.
"Look at your hand."
Against the white of the snow and his t-shirt, the blood from his hand was startling red.
"You think they can buff those little ones out with a sand-"
"Jesus, Ian, who cares? You just about died!"
"Sam gave me that car, you dumb bastard," Ian said, immediately going on the defensive – without even thinking about it. "It's the best thing anyone's ever done for me…"
Andrew sighed. Maybe if he owned a car he'd understand.
"Come on. Let's go inside and look at your hand. We might need to call for help…"
