by William Falo
I guided the drone toward the three fox kits. There was no sign of the mother. I snapped a lot of photos then directed it back toward me until I saw someone looking up at the drone. Flying a drone in a national park was illegal. The fines steep. My hands shook and the woods began to spin. It wasn’t a good time for a panic attack, but was there ever? The anxiety started when I was in school. My foster parents called it a phase. I don’t see them anymore, but I live with anxiety every day.
I worked the controller, but couldn’t shake the ranger. A roar made me pause and on the drone’s video, I saw a bear crash into the ranger.
They tumbled to the ground. “Help.” The ranger called out. I dropped the controller and ran toward him with my bear spray out. I heard the drone crash.
I ran straight into the area. I didn’t look before I leaped. It was a stupid mistake. The kind that can be fatal.
The bear stopped and stepped toward me. Its shadow covered me in darkness and I froze. The ranger moaned and the bear turned back toward him.
“Stop. Come after me instead.” The bear turned and I sprayed at its eyes. It tried to swat it away, but the spray covered its face. It roared then lumbered away. I hurried to the ranger then grabbed the radio.
“Help.” I read his name tag. “Ranger Michael was attacked by a bear and needs medical help.” I knew they would follow the GPS signal.
The ranger grabbed my wrist. “You’re the drone pilot. I need to write you a citation.” His voice trailed off. “What’s your name?”
“Ellie.”
“I’m Mike.” He closed his eyes.
The silence of the woods made me shiver. The bear could come back.
I wiped the blood off his face and he opened his eyes. “You’re still here.”
“I wouldn’t leave you alone.”
“Thank you.” I wiped tears from my eyes.
Two men arrived with medical bags. One called for a helicopter while they frantically worked on the ranger.
“Is he going to be okay?”
They didn’t answer me and I faded into the woods and threw up under a pine tree.
When I drove away, I saw a dead fox. It could be the mother. The three fox kits would spend the night alone. I knew they would be terrified. I knew I would be too.
The next day, I gathered up the fox kits and put them in a crate. I avoided the spot where the bear attack occurred.
The wildlife center took the fox kits and I petted each one goodbye.
I later received an email that said someone spotted a bobcat family nearby. I read online that the ranger survived and he wanted to meet the woman who saved him. He promised not to give her a citation. I laughed for the first time in years. On the way to the bobcats, I passed the hospital he was at and slowed down. I knew he would still be here on my way back. Would he give me a citation despite his promise? I might stop and find out. Losing the drone hurt, but I saved three fox kits and a ranger. It’s not a bad trade. I would have to walk more and that meant having to encounter more people. That’s scarier than facing down a bear, but part of me wanted it more than anything else.
William Falo writes fiction. His work has appeared in Newfound, Back Patio Press, Vamp Cat Magazine, Clover & White, and other literary journals. Follow him online @williamfalo.
(And check out William’s story Hibernation from the September 30, 2019 Weekly. – Elephants Never)