Chapter 2

I live alone, and I never open the door to strangers at night, especially not on a stormy night like this.

Trying not to make a sound, I quickly answered my phone.

It was Samuel. "Ashley," he said, his voice tense. "You were right. There's been a breach at the black bear enclosure. Someone—or something—tore a huge hole in the south fence.

"We're not sure if any got out. Jack's trying to do a headcount, but the rain is too heavy. He's counted three times and still can't get a clear number—"

His words were cut off by another series of heavy thuds against my door. My hands were shaking so badly that my teeth were chattering.

I wanted to tell him there was no need to count anymore. A black bear had definitely escaped, and it was right outside my door.

Because I could hear its thoughts, clear as day, echoing in my mind. 'Why isn't the keeper opening the door?

'I saw her address. I'm definitely in the right place.

'Why isn't she coming out? I'm so hungry. I really want to eat her.'

Something was seriously wrong with this bear. How did it even know my address?

But I didn't have time to think. The flimsy door rattled loudly under the bear's pounding.

It seemed like it could be ripped off its hinges any second.

Trying to sound calm, I whispered into the phone, "Samuel, the black bear is right outside my door.

"Come quick, and bring whatever you need to catch it."

He exclaimed, stunned, "What? How did it find you?

"Send me your address. We'll get there as soon as we can.

"But the rain's coming down hard, so it might take us a while. Stay safe, okay?"

I stared at the trembling door, forcing myself to stay calm. "Okay," I replied.

After hanging up, I called the police.

The officer said pretty much the same thing as Samuel: they'd get here as fast as they could.

But the rain was coming down so hard, some streets were flooded. It'd take them at least half an hour to reach me.

Half an hour. A cold dread washed over me. There was no way that bear was going to wait that long.

As the door shook more violently, I was panicking when my phone rang again. It was Lewis.

"Ashley, Samuel filled me in on what's going on," Lewis said. "I was dining nearby tonight, so I came right over.

"I'm already downstairs. I'll be up in a minute. Just stay hidden, okay?"

I was so relieved I almost burst into tears. "Thank you for coming, Lewis. But did you bring anything to protect yourself? That bear is really dangerous."

"Well, I'm prepared," Lewis replied. "Don't worry about me. I've got a tranq gun in my trunk.

"Just promise me one thing: no matter what you hear, do not open this door."

"Okay," I said, feeling a little calmer now that I knew he had a weapon.

Lewis was ex-military—tough, experienced.

If anyone could handle this, it was him.

A faint ding echoed from down the hall, the elevator arriving on my floor.

Right after, I heard the bear roaring and the sounds of a fight breaking out.

My heart leapt into my throat again.

I wanted to rush out and help, but Lewis's warning echoed in my mind. Afraid I'd just get in the way, I could only stand by the door, not daring to move.

I strained to see through the peephole, but all I could make out were shifting shadows and frantic movement.

The noise seemed to go on forever before it suddenly stopped.

Just as my heart was in my throat, a slow, heavy knocking started again.

"Lewis?" I whispered, my voice trembling. "Is that you?"

Silence.

I carefully peeked through the peephole again.

This time, I could see clearly—it was Lewis at the door.

He was pressed right up against it, knocking with his right hand over and over.

He looked totally wiped out, like the fight had drained every bit of energy from him. His eyes were lifeless, and his face was so pale it was almost scary. Honestly, he looked a little creepy at first.

But really, who could look good after wrestling with a huge black bear?

The knocking grew more urgent.

I hurried to open the door. "Lewis, hold on. I'm opening the door right now."

But then I heard it—a voice that wasn't his, raspy and low, coming from him. 'Dear keeper, come on and open the door. I can't wait to rip your guts open.'

My hand froze on the doorknob.

The bear was still alive!

But I thought it was Lewis at the door, no?

A thousand horrifying realizations crashed down on me at once.

Heart pounding, I forced myself to look through the peephole again. Lewis was still there, his hand knocking on the door in the same eerie, mechanical motion.

But this time, I saw a massive black shape standing menacingly right behind him.

That was when it hit me with a chill: it wasn't really Lewis knocking at all.

Lewis was already dead.

His entire right hand had been bitten off, leaving a gruesome stump of splintered bone and gore. The sight was utterly horrifying.

It was the bear, using its own massive, black paw to slam Lewis's severed hand against the wood, over and over again.

And the only thing holding Lewis upright was the bear's other paw, clamped on his shoulder, holding him up like some macabre puppet.

The intelligence behind it was what was truly terrifying.

This thing was smart enough to use a corpse as a trick to lure me out.