This is the sequel to Becoming the Bear. Although the two stories can stand alone, they are linked; some things in this story refer to events and characters in the earlier one. You may wish to read that one first. This is (obviously) a work of fiction, and no real persons or events are depicted. As in our other werebear stories, safe sex practices are not depicted; but in real life, get tested and always play safe. We both hope you enjoy this story.

Chapter 7

Vic woke to the wonderful smells of bacon, eggs and coffee coming from upstairs. He stretched luxuriously and gave his morning wood a couple of friendly strokes. He felt Larry's broad hairy back pressed up against him and accidentally prodded René's slumbering form, draped over his legs. Mitch and Walt were on the other side of him, curled together and pressed tight to each other and him. He stretched again and yawned and then worked his way upright and lumbered off to the small bathroom off the deck area to pee. Like the other bears, he had not bothered to change back to fully human form after the night's play, but he did so now. Some things were easier in human form, he thought, while aiming his cock at the bowl. He washed his hands and face and walked back to the hot tub area. The second bear-pile of Boris, Moose, Rusty and Robert seemed to have vanished, but the voices from above gave a clue as to their whereabouts. Vic climbed the stairs and went into the kitchen.

"Is any of that coffee ready yet?" he grumbled, still rubbing sleep out of his eyes.

"No, you old grouch. But if you want to lend a hand," Boris said, nodding towards the coffee maker while cracking eggs into a large bowl. Three dozen eggs sat in boxes, waiting to made into breakfast. Robert stood behind Boris grinning and waving a half full coffee carafe.

"Pay no attention to him," Robert said giving Boris a quick kiss on the back of his head, "he's a grumpy as you are when he gets up in the morning. I made a pot the first thing I got up. Here," he said, pouring a mug for Vic.

After the first mug had been drained and the second half emptied down his gullet, Vic began to feel more awake.

"Damn, but we had a good time last night! You need some help there?" Vic asked, watching the two bears deftly work around each other. A timer went off and Robert went to the oven to remove a tray of scones. He popped another in.

"No, we are doing fine. Moose and Rusty are doing the fetch and carry work. Why don't you go down and get those other horn dogs up. Oh and take a shower. You stink of sex!" Boris grinned while cracking more eggs.

"I can think of worse things to stink of." Vic said, stealing a hot scone and dodging Robert's attempted smack. He headed back down the stairs to wake the others.

Once awake and changed into human form, they all headed back upstairs to the large shower off of Boris's bedroom.

"I feel crusty, but in a good way," Larry said, fondling René's cock. The shower was not quite big enough for five, so Mitch and Walt showered first, then Vic, Larry and René. Hunger kept the wet bear play to a minimum as they helped dry each other off. The five padded naked down the hall and into the large kitchen.

"Sit," Boris growled. "There's ham and bacon and I've got the eggs ready. I'll scramble, or fry, your choice. Cereal and fruit are over on the sideboard. Oh and there's fresh baked scones, butter, jam and honey. I harvest my own here, I have some hives out beyond the shed. Oh and lest I forget, there are biscuits, grits and red eye gravy for our Texas friend here," he said waving a spatula towards Larry.

"Well, thankee kindly, y' ol' Rooskie. I KNEW I could teach you how to make a real breakfast!" René shuddered, eyeing the gravy boat askance. He muttered something about 'grits' and 'abomination' under his breath.

Larry reached for the gravy boat and ladle and said, "Ya know, we need to git you down to my place sometime so's I kin teach y'all about what real food is!" He grinned toothily at René.

René shuddered theatrically then said in an accent deliberately far thicker than he normally had, "I 'ave forgotten more about ze fine cuisine than you 'ave ever known. Good food... it is not simply about filling ze belly. Oui, perhaps I should make ze visit after all! You have much to learn about zis subject and I would be 'appy to instruct."

"Well, good eats sure as shit ain't about snails, nor salty fish eggs neither." Larry said knowing full well that in werebear form, they occasionally lived off the land, which meant grubs and insects.

"Paysan." René said sniffed in a superior way and continued with his meal as Larry smiled around a mouthful of biscuit. It was a long standing game between the two since their very first meeting and though they didn't play it at every meal, it happened at least once per gathering.

Boris rolled his eyes and pawed for the plate of ham.

Soon, all nine of the bears were seated and rapidly emptying their plates and refilling them. Werebears are legendary for their hefty appetites and last night's orgy had depleted the energy reserves of all at the table. Even Rusty, smallest of the bears, who had seen his appetite grow along with his size, was packing it away.

"What's the plan for the day?" Walt asked, moping up the last of the egg yolk with the last of his scone.

Boris gulped the last of his coffee. "Vic and I will head into town to get a few things I'm low on, and we'll need another tent. I think it best that we appear as a group of buddies on a camping vacation when we cross the border. Vic, if you don't mind, I think we'll use your two vehicles as well as mine. René's needs new tires and there isn't time for that."

Vic looked at Mitch and Moose, who nodded. "Fine with me. We'll need gas, though."

"Good. While we're gone, Robert will show them where to fill up. You might even get an oil change if you need one, the local station is pretty fast on that kind of stuff." Boris looked around the table. "Any other ideas?" Questions? No?..." Heads shook a negative around the table. "Good. Let's get moving."

Moose and Rusty started clearing the dishes while the others scattered to their tasks. Boris was the last to leave, but Moose stopped him. It was plain he had a question to ask, but it was Rusty who spoke.

"Boris, we know this is serious business. We'll understand if you don't feel comfortable with us sort of tagging along. Just say the word and we'll stay here if you want."

Boris looked appraisingly at the two newest werebears, one huge and one smaller, but both earnest in their looks. It didn't take a PhD in psychology to see that both of them were hoping to be taken along on the expedition.

"Moose, Rusty, I thank you for your willingness to follow my direction in this. You are right; it IS serious business, more so than you might understand, but you are family now. I know Vic is reluctant to leave you alone at this time of bonding and that is understandable. But I need him on this venture. So it appears that you must accompany us."

Both bears grinned, happy at the decision.

"Besides, I have a gut feeling about you two. I think you will come in very handy. I always listen to my gut," Boris said, smiling and patting his belly. "Now, once you're done here, get your things packed. Pack light, but take some warm clothing as well. Tell the others the same, will you?" The two nodded and Boris headed out to Vic who was waiting beside Boris's Suburban.

Boris looked appreciatively at the big blond bear. "God, if we weren't so pressed for time, I'd LOVE to pound that ass of yours." He put a meaty paw on Vic's butt. The heavy bulge in the front of his jeans showed his interest.

Vic wiggled his ass and grinned. "Well, I sure got enough of yours last night, so I guess it's only fair. Tell you what... if we can, somewhere on the road. If not, first thing we get back, OK?"

"You have a deal, my friend!" Boris said and gently patted Vic's package. Vic growled in appreciatively.

Vic circled around the Suburban and climbed in on the passenger side while Boris got into the driver's seat. Boris piloted the vehicle out onto the road and into town.

Meanwhile, the others set about their allotted tasks. Walt and Mitch each took a vehicle and got them gassed and topped off, while Rusty and Moose and the others got equipment and clothes packed and ready. By early afternoon, Vic and Boris had returned, a quick lunch was eaten, everything was stowed and the bears were on the road. René, Larry and Boris were in Boris's Suburban; Vic, Robert and Moose were in Moose's Avalanche; and Mitch, Walt and Rusty were in Mitch's truck. Boris's trio lead the pack. To all the world, it looked like a group of guys heading out on a camping vacation, exactly the effect they desired.

The plan was to travel east to Calgary, then south, crossing the boarder at Coutts, then head to Great Falls. "We may get lucky and still find them there," Robert said, "but I doubt it. Still, we have to start someplace."

"Well, when we get to Great Falls, you drive and we'll take the lead. You know where this place is, the others can follow us." Vic scanned the sky ahead as the shadows lengthened. "We need to make time. You OK with four hour driving shifts? Boris seems to be in a hurry." The others nodded. Vic pressed the accelerator and the Avalanche surged ahead, closing the distance between him and Boris's Suburban. Mitch, following, picked up the pace as well.

The bears drove on through the oncoming night, trading driving chores every few hours, driven by the urgent need to reach the rogues before any further damage was done. Each was conscious of the fact that more than just their own interests were at stake... discovery and potential disaster for all weres was a real possibility. There was not much talk after the first few hours. Drivers were changed, comfort stops taken and bears dozed lightly or listened to music as the miles unrolled. They dispensed with motel rooms the first night, driving straight through except for a meal stop in Donald Station. The second day was much the same except for changes in scenery. But by the end of the day, all were ready for long hot showers and soft beds. They pulled in at a Super 8 just outside Calgary.

The desk clerk was somewhat flustered at finding accommodation for nine obviously large men, but finally four rooms were found with king beds. It was obvious that the clerk wanted to say something, perhaps even something disapproving, but the sheer intimidating size of the customers silenced him. Keys were handed over and the bears trooped off to their showers and beds.

Moose and Rusty were closest to the pool; Vic, Walt and Mitch were closest to the parking lot. Boris and Robert, René and Larry had rooms in between. The all-night and all-day driving had made each of them stiff and road-weary. The showers were long and ho,t and in spite of road weariness (at least in Rusty and Moose's case), punctuated with more than a little friskiness.

"Fuck me, you beast!" Rusty growled as Moose bit into his neck and eased his meat into the wet soapy ass of his lover. The thick tube of flesh slid in deep and Rusty could feel the tip swell and flare deep in his chute. He grunted each time the ridge compressed his prostate as the rigid pole moved in and out. Rusty braced himself as the hot water drenched them both, pounding his hand on the shower walls. "Harder, dammit! Breed me, you fucker!" It was fortunate that their room adjoined a vacant unit on the side the shower touched.

"God, I can't get enough of you!" Moose gasped as he hammered Rusty's butt. The water running down them both clumped their fur into long wet strands that revealed the pink skin underneath. Moose growled deeply and shook as he came in his lover's ass and Rusty moaned as he felt the hot seed of his big bear coat the inside of his chute. Moose continued to move in Rusty, loving the silky hot feeling of his cock swimming through his own seed. He circled his great arms around Rusty's thickening midsection and hugged him tight, still slowly pumping his meat in and out of Rusty's stretched hole. "I love you," he said in to Rusty's ear. Then he threw back his head and shouted above the hiss of the shower head, "I LOVE this bear!"

Meanwhile, Vic knocked on Boris' door. The big salt and pepper grizzly answered, and Vic stepped in. "I got a couple extra road maps in the lobby. I'll put one in the truck, I don't think the one Mitch has there is up to date. You want one?"

"No, my friend, I have new ones, but ask René, he might be glad of one."

"Mind if I wash my paws here before supper?" Vic asked, heading towards the sink.

"Not at all, help yourself."

Vic turned on the hot water, tempered it with cold, and lathered up his hairy paws. Boris moved behind him, pressing his crotch to Vic's rounded ass and growled with desire. Vic closed his eyes and put his head back, a deep rumble forming in his chest.

"It's yours, if you're not too tired, buddy."

Boris's smile split his beard. "For you, never too tired! But the others will expect us for dinner soon. Do we have time?"

"Hey, I like quickies!" Vic dropped the hand towel, then dropped his jeans. Boris did likewise, and the two hugged, Boris's heavy meat already at full attention, Vic's nearly so. After some tongue wrestling, Vic turned and leaned over the sink, bracing himself on his forearms, pressing his blond-furred ass towards Boris's rigid cock.

Boris reached for the little bottle of hand lotion the management thoughtfully provided for other purposes, and coated his pole, then fed the greased monster to Vic's waiting ass. Sliding in home, Boris grunted in tune with Vic.

"Oh, yeah!"

"Go for it, buddy. Don't wait, and don't worry about me. I know those balls of yours are full, empty' em in me!" Vic braced on the faux marble surround of the the sink.

Boris gave a basso growl and went to work on Vic's ass. Energized by the heat of his chute and the wonderful sight of Vic's broad shirt-clad back and naked furry butt, Boris's cock swelled to its full thickness and length. He pounded Vic, giving no quarter. Vic wanted none, anyway. The two of them watched themselves in the mirror over the sink, thick hairy beasts breeding.

Vic was more than happy to satisfy his buddy's urgent need, and when Boris gripped his shoulders tightly in preparation for his final thrusts, Vic pushed back and tightened his butt muscles to give his friend the best ride possible. Boris surged forward, Vic pressed back, and volley after volley of scalding hot bear seed flooded Vic's tunnel. Boris's roar of triumph rattled the window and caused the family playing in the pool outside the room to look up.

"You see, that's why we tell you to turn the TV down when you're watching Animal Planet," the mother said to her two children. "It just gets so loud." The father continued to look at the room where the noises had come from for several minutes after the rest of his family went back to their play.

A bit later, as the bears were walking across the street to the restaurant, Mitch nudged Walt. "You'd better drive next. I swear that cock of yours got twice as big as usual in my ass. I'll walk funny for days." Walt had a big shit-eating grin on his face and from the look on Vic and Boris's faces it was obvious Boris had made good on his promise from back at his house two days earlier as well.

Seated at dinner, the discussion centered on the next day's plans. "If we keep to the same driving arrangements, we should be across the border before nightfall," Boris said.

"You know, if we pull another all nighter..." Vic's comment was met with good-natured groans. "If we pull another all nighter," he growled, "we could be in Grand Falls in the morning, instead of the afternoon. I'm just sayin'."

"Yes. The sooner, the better." Larry's tone left no doubt as to his feelings.

The talk continued between plates of food. To an outsider, it looked like a happy, well-fed group of bearded men; relatives perhaps, or maybe a men's sports team of some sort, eagerly planning a trip together. Possibly a camping or hunting trip, or maybe a vacation get-away 'for the guys'. Nothing of the scene would have suggested it's deadly serious aspects.

The next morning, rested, fed and filled with each other's cum, they set off on the last leg of their journey to confront the rogues. I was indeed fortunate that they all had vehicles that were relatively new and very powerful. The big machines were very dusty and were beginning to look on the outside as if they had been driven hard and put away wet. Road grime covered them and a couple of rain showers on the way had turned the dust to mud. Windshield wiper arcs cleared a fan-shaped area of the mud spatters from the front and rear of each. Outside Grand Falls, they took a pee break.

"OK, Robert, you drive now," Vic said, tucking his cock in and zipping up. Getting back in they changed seats and Robert acted as pilot, guiding the convoy through town and toward the farm house where he'd last seen the rogues. "Mind you," he said, "that was several days ago. We don't know if they are still there or not."

Vic nodded. "It's the best we've got right now."

Robert's eyes were intent on the road ahead, scanning for remembered landmarks. He slowed several times, then shook his head and sped up again. One county highway crossing looked very much like another. The vehicles behind kept pace with him. Finally, about ten miles outside of town, he slowed and turned off the highway onto a paved county road. The three vehicles drove slowly between fences and fields, past one signposted dirt road and then another. At the third, Robert slowed to a stop, with the others right behind. He got out.

The others gathered around him. "This road leads to the farm house. There's a slight drop off here, you can't see the place from where we are and anyone there can't see us unless we drive a ways down the road. There's a gully over there," he said, pointing to the right. "It brings us up by the barn. There an open yard between the barn and the back of the house. If they're in the house and we're careful, they won't see us." He wiped his brow. "They might see us if they're in the barn."

Robert wet a finger and stuck it up in the air. "Good, we're upwind and it seems fairly steady, they won't catch our scent. So, let's move but go slow and be careful. No noises we can help." Boris handed out guns to each from the back of his Suburban, along with ammo.

He looked at Rusty, who seemed unsure. "Have you fired a gun before, my friend?"

"Yes. Norman taught me; but a handgun, not a rifle. I'm not sure I could handle this," eyeing the rifle Boris was handing him.

"Not a problem, I have a couple handguns in the back." He reached in and handed Rusty a Glock.

"Regular little traveling arsenal you got there." Rusty said, taking the gun and test sighting along the barrel. No one laughed.

Boris looked Rusty in the eye. "More than you bargained for, isn't it?" Rusty nodded. "Well, you can stay here if you wish. I think there are enough of us..."

"Not a chance!" Rusty said, grimly. "I'm not letting my Norman go without me."

One by one, the nine stepped over the fence stile and began to carefully work their way down the gully, moving slowly and quietly.

The silence was almost eerie. An occasional harsh squawk of a black crow broke the quiet. The breeze sighed through the tall grasses and somewhere in the distance the clang of a chain on metal was heard at irregular intervals.

One by one, the bears dropped off, taking up observation posts along the gully. By the time Boris was stationed at the furthest reach of the gully, the barn, house and outbuildings were under observation around not quite half of a rough circle. This gave the bears several points of view of the house and yard as well as the back and side of the barn. Nothing moved.

Time passed and the sun sank lower in the western sky, casting long shadows from the barn across the yard towards the house. Still, nothing moved. Birds flew overhead but did not land. A barn cat squeezed out between the double doors, slightly ajar and slunk off into the grass. The weres focused their hyper alert senses, but could catch no sound, no movement, no trace of habitation. The farmstead appeared to be abandoned.

Robert reached for a rock and lofted it up and over the edge of the gully, taking a chance on provoking some sort of reaction from anyone in the house or barn. Still no movement. Robert chanced another rock, this one landing on the steps leading to the back door of the house. Nothing.

Robert inched his way along the gully to Vic. "I don't think anyone's here. I'm going to take a chance and approach. Cover me." Vic nodded. Robert handed Vic his gun and rose up and climbed over the lip of the gully, walking towards the house, with both hands visible, attempting to look as harmless and non-threatening as possible.

"Anyone home?" he called. The wind rustled the grass, but otherwise there was nothing but the buzzing of flies and bees in the scraggly flowers along one side of the house. "Anyone?" Silence.

Robert mounted the steps and carefully peered in the window by the screen door. The porch ran the width of the back of the farm house. He moved quietly to the next window and looked in. Reaching the end of the porch, he moved back and tried the screen door. It was unlatched. The wood door to the kitchen opened with a slight protesting noise from the hinges. Robert froze. In the gully, eight pairs of eyes watched intently and eight weapons were trained on the house. Still there was no sound or movement from either the house or the barn. Robert stepped into the house.

After what seemed like a very long time to the anxious bears, Robert appeared back at the door and silently motioned for the others to come up to the house. One by one they did so, this time prominently displaying their weapons. As each entered the kitchen, they were overcome with a wave of nausea. Rusty , Moose and Mitch gripped their stomachs and looked at each other and the other bears.

"God! I feel like I'm gonna puke," Moose said.

"What is that smell? What happened here? It stinks of bleach, but there's something else." Mitch said, gasping.

"It's our blood. I mean, werebear blood." Boris stood stock still, sniffing the air, his eyes narrow. "Something very bad has happened here."

Robert took Larry and they went quietly upstairs to check the rooms up there. The others stood in the kitchen, while Vic and René went down into the cellar to check there.

When they returned, each reported the same. "Nothing. Clothes, furniture, knick-knacks, all just nice as pie," Larry said. "Someone obviously lives... or lived here. Maybe one of our kind? But there's no one here now." Vic said.

"I don't think it was a shifter living here," Robert said. "I think Sebastian and his gang holed up here and probably killed whoever was living here. All the beds upstairs have been slept in and it's obvious the tub upstairs has been used, there's hair everywhere. He must have killed one of his own troop. Used a lot of bleach and 409 trying to clean the mess up and then cleared out." He turned to Rusty, Mitch and Moose. "That's what you smelled when you came in... what made you so sick. You were reacting to the smell of our blood." Walt reached out and hugged Mitch, who still looked a little wobbly.

"We all smelled it, of course," Boris said. "An ursanthrope might have lived here, the gang could have killed him and moved in, but I think I agree with Robert. Sebastian more than likely murdered one of his own here." He walked to the parlor and then back through the dining room to the kitchen. "I think he did it here. In this room. I catch some blood smell in the front room, but it is not were and there isn't much. We can hope that whoever lived here died a quick death at their hands, but here..." Boris said with a growl, "here is where he seems to have butchered one of our kind." Boris paced the room, then went out onto the porch, but in a moment returned inside.

"The rest of you check around outside and in the barn, but I think some care was taken after the murder. It does look as if something was dragged across the yard. Perhaps they bagged the remains and moved them."

A half hour of fruitless searching brought the bears back the porch as twilight fell. "Nada. Zip." Larry shook his head.

"Nothing in the barn, either, or out back that we can see," Mitch added. "You think they've been gone long?"

"That bleach smell was really strong when I first came in," Robert said. "I'll bet they only cleared out a little bit ago. A day at most."

Walt went to the corner of the porch and looked out in the darkness to the faint glow of headlights on the highway in the distance. He was silent a while, then said, "I don't think they would go back towards town. Too dangerous and they couldn't stay here; whoever lived here was probably known in town and would be missed eventually." He paused and looked out at the highway again. "I think they went north again." He turned to Boris. "What do you think?"

Boris nodded his head. "They are running. Which direction, I am not sure. But I agree, they would not go back towards town and that only leaves north on the highway for a while at least. Until they get to the next large town, that is." He looked at the other bears. "None of us would sleep well here tonight. We could use the barn, but I don't think we can afford to let these murderers, these kin slayers, get any further ahead of us. So if no one objects, I say we go north. Now." Without waiting for a response from the others, Boris jumped down form the porch and strode off towards the road and their vehicles. After a moment, the others followed.

The next morning found them in Big Sandy, not far from Havre. There, a choice would have to be made. The highway they had been following, State Highway 87, crossed State Highway 2, running east-west, at Havre. Pulling off into a large parking lot outside a Piggly Wiggly, the three dusty vehicles were parked next to each other. All nine bears got out and stretched sore muscles.

"I say we split up, see if we can get any word of these guys." Larry said. Boris and Vic nodded and the group split, heading up and down the main street to check in bars, coffee shops and motels. Rusty headed into the grocery store.

"Either the rogues haven't passed through or have been very quiet about it -- or maybe the locals just don't like talking to big, bearded strangers stalking their streets," Walt said, as they gathered back at the parking lot. The group stood, discussing their respective failures. Rusty came trotting up, a smile on his face and a large brown grocery bag in his arms. "Well, gentlemen, I think I know where our rogues are... or at least where they have been."

"What?!" Vic and Boris said together. All conversation stopped and all heads turned to the strawberry blond bear. Rusty basked in the attention for a moment, then hastily began.

"Well, while you guys were checking out the bars, I went to a grocery store, to get some snacks for Norman." Here, he handed the bag to Moose. "There was this guy at the counter, checking out and talking with the clerk while he rang up the groceries. He was talking about how his kid had snuck off and stayed out late last night and taken his older brother's pellet gun with him to boot. He was telling the guy about his kid's wild imagination and the fantastic excuse he'd given for being out late. 'Get this,' he says to the clerk. 'He tells me he sees these big guys on motorcycles and they all pull up and two of them turn into, and you're not going to believe this, he says they turned into bears fer Chrissakes!'" Rusty paused and caught his breath.

"Anyway, he goes on and on about it how the kid says he's afraid to move and how he was pinned down and couldn't leave without the bears seeing him. I tell you, my ears really pricked up." The others stared at Rusty blankly. "Don't you see? It has to be our guys."

"But how can we be certain? This is a child, he could be making up a story to avoid the punishment as children do and..." René said, but Rusty interrupted him.

"I don't think so, the coincidence would be too great. Big bearded men on motorcycles? Men who just happen to turn into bears? It's simply has to be our rogues." Rusty was sure in his own mind and didn't like being doubted.

"But still, how does this help us?" Boris asked. "We don't know where this child was when he saw what he says he saw or even when this was."

"Oh, but we do! I was standing not ten feet from the father, doing some intense 'label comparison reading' to cover my eavesdropping. The clerk asked this guy where it happened and he said it was at the old abandoned rest stop out on the highway going north. Then the clerk was going on and on about how the highway department should do something about it, the picnic shelters were all falling down and the cinder block restroom building was all covered with graffiti and how dangerous is all was for kids to be playing around there. We know it was last night just after sunset, because the kid's father said he'd told his wife if the son wasn't back by then he was 'gonna get his hide tanned good'. Apparently, he was just heading out to look for him when the kid showed."

The others mulled this over and Boris and Vic talked together urgently.

"Rusty, I think you're right," Vic said. "but what if there's more than one of these abandoned rest stops?" Boris nodded in agreement.

"More than likely there are, but we know it must be close, the kid walked home, don't forget. It can't be too far away from this area and the father said 'on highway going north'. There's only one highway heading north out of this charming little hamlet." Rusty's hands were on his hips and his face was red with excitement. "The kid said he had to 'wait until the bears went to sleep'. If the rogues slept even for only a few hours, they won't have much more than half a day's lead over us, maybe less." He pointed to the road behind the group. "That's the highway north. Let's go!"

The rest of the group looked at each other. René shrugged, the others nodded and Moose hugged Rusty with one arm while holding the snack laden bag with the other. They piled back in the vehicles. The small convoy swung out onto the highway, heading north.

Chapter 8

"Stop the car!" Rusty was staring intently out the passenger side window.

"What?"

"Stop the car!" Rusty was all but squirming in his seat. Boris looked at him, worried.

"Are you ill? Is something wrong?"

"No, I'm fine, there's nothing wrong. Stop the car!"

Boris steered the Suburban into a handy parking lot and the other two vehicles in the convoy followed. Almost before Boris has shut the motor off, Rusty was out of his seat belt and out of the car. Boris and Moose followed.

"What's up?" Moose said, beginning to shift into protective mode.

"I just feel strange, is all, like people are near. No, not that, exactly. Something's, I mean someone's close by."

Boris looked thoughtful. By this time, the others had gathered and were asking what was going on. Boris raised a hand and asked, "Have you felt like this before? What do you mean, 'someone's near'?"

"Yes, I have... well, not exactly but a little. Lately I've noticed that I know when Moose or Vic or Walt or Mitch are coming in from outside, even before they get inside. I just thought that was part of being a bear now. We can see and hear and smell better, right?" He looked at Boris, who nodded. "Well, when we drove up to your place at first, I felt a little like this, like... oh, I can't explain this right but it felt like there were others like us. I felt you before I saw you; all of you," he said, looking at Robert and Larry and Rene. "But it felt... OK; it didn't feel like there was something wrong. This feels... weird. Different. Not good."

"Y'all mean ta say that you feel there's someone close by, another one of our kin?" Larry looked skeptical. Rusty nodded.

"But there's no one close by, 'cept that kid on the bike over yonder," Larry said pointing. "Unless you mean that lil old lady over on the corner, with the cane."

"No, they aren't close enough to see yet, but they are close by." Rusty, who was growing more confident by the minute, looked up the street. "I'm really sure it's the guys we're looking for, but not all of them, maybe a smaller group." He turned to Mitch.

"This is like when me and Moose are at the cabin and you guys come back from a trip into town. I feel when you are getting close. But it's not happy like that, this isn't happy. It's more of a threat." He paused. "I thought we all could do this when we changed."

Vic shook his head. "No. We have sharper senses of sight and smell and hearing but they have to be within our range, and you know what's happening, you know you're smelling someone or hearing them. It's not a feeling. Can you hear them or see them?"

"Not yet." Rusty said.

"Well, if Rusty is right and these are our guys, do we wait here for them or..." As soon as Walt spoke, the others joined in, excitement at finally getting near their quarry causing them all to speak at once. Suddenly, Rusty grabbed Moose's arm and pointed up the street.

"Look!" All heads turned. In a moment, they could see three, then four bikes far in the distance.

"Was this what you were feeling, son?" Vic asked. Rusty nodded, mutely. "Can you tell if they are heading this way?" There was an edge to Vic's voice but Rusty shook his head.

"They seem to be fading, so no, not heading this way." He shaded his eyes with his hand, looking up the road.

"OK, let's follow but we keep back, OK?" The other nodded. "Boris, you lead again and Rusty, stay alert. Let Boris know the minute you feel anything. We'll follow right behind." The blond bear clapped Rusty on the back. "You done good, son. You keep this up and we're gonna have to start callin' you 'Bloodhound'." Vic smiled.

"Thanks... I think," Rusty said as he swung up into the Suburban. The vehicles pulled out onto the highway and followed the dust of the bikers at a distance. Even when they lost actual sight of the bikers, Rusty's sensations kept them accurately tracking the rogues.

In less than an hour, the bikers pulled off the road, making a pit stop at a small but crowded convenience store. With Rusty's warning of their increasing nearness, the three following vehicles pulled up some distance away. All got out and after Vic and Boris had conferred, casually walked towards the store. Moose, Rusty, Larry and Walt circled around behind, to cover any back exit, while Mitch and Vic watched the sides.

"It's very unlikely they will risk any kind of altercation with this many people about but they might bolt. We'll just let them know we're here and that we want to talk," Boris said.

"Yeah, nice and quiet." Robert said. Boris, Rene and Robert walked into the store.

Inside, it was easy to spot Sebastian's gang. Others in the store we also eyeing the dusty, somewhat fierce looking men who had come in as a group. Most were picking up drinks and snacks; but Sebastian was standing, pretending to examine the box of band aides in his hand to cover his watchfulness, as he scanned the customers and the checkout counter with its cash register.

For all his size, Boris could move silently when the need arose. He moved behind Sebastian and just as the younger bear was about to react, laid a heavy paw on his shoulder and squeezed. He exerted just enough pressure to let him know it wouldn't be wise to try and run.

"We meet at last. You know, we really do need to talk; all of us. Why don't you and your friends come outside with us and we'll have a nice conversation." Boris's tone made it clear he wasn't asking a question but giving an order. Sebastian turned.

"And why should I want to do that, huh?" Sebastian's face expressed the sullen rebellious scorn that any disaffected teen or twenty-something might.

"Oh, I think you know why. But let me give you a small hint." He looked pointedly at the box of band aides in Sebastian's hand. "You don't really need those, now, do you... you don't need much in the way of first aid, any more than I do." His eyes bored into Sebastian's. Sebastian's eyes widened but his body remained still. Boris could almost see the wheels turn as Sebastian worked it out.

"So, shall we talk a bit?" Boris continued to hold Sebastian's gaze.

Sebastian finally blinked and putting the box back on the shelf said, "Yeah, I guess so. But not here," he mumbled." There's a public park about a quarter mile back on the road. It was empty when we rode by. Nice and open, no place to hide. We'll meet you there."

Sebastian raised his head and caught the eyes of Rick and Trey. He shook his head slightly, an they moved off to whisper with their buddies. The bikers paid for their food items and filed out to mount their scoots and kick them into life.

Moose, Mitch and the others hustled around from the sides and back but Boris stepped out of the store and shook his head at them. "We're following them to a park close by. Stay close and watch that they don't separate or head out." They all hurried to their vehicles and gunned them into pursuit.

Inside, the owner of the store and the cashier looked at each other, scratching their heads. "Now, what d'ya suppose all that was about?"

"Beats me!" the cashier said. " I kinda thought we mighta had some trouble there. Oh, we're almos' outta Copenhagen. Fetch some more out from in back next time yer there, OK?"

Out on the streets of the town, the bikers made for the public park, with the three large, bear-laden vehicles in their wake. The streets of the town were dusty, the landscape flat and dry. The town looked tired and neglected; one of many small towns that once had been larger but was dying now as life and traffic passed them by. Dusty older houses, clapboard for the most part, lined the few streets behind the convenience store. Large trees dotted the yards of a few of them but others were boarded up and their lawns and gardens were dry and dead. A schoolyard, empty now, stood at the end of one street, with the small park across from it.

The sun was past its zenith, with shadows lengthening. The park had a few withered trees, some swings, a picnic table or two and a bent and sagging backstop. It was open on all sides, as Sebastian had said. It was also empty, except for the bikers, who pulled up at the curb and trooped over to the larger picnic table. A metal frame supported a dented tin roof offered some shade. A few houses could be glimpsed across a street on the far side of the park.

Boris and the rest pulled up beside the bikes but parked some feet from the leaning machines. They got out and walked slowly over the dry grass toward the picnic table and Sebastian's gang. Sebastian stepped towards them. He stopped and folded his arms across his chest.

"Well?"

"You know, there's a custom among our kind, to treat newcomers with civility and at least a modicum of friendliness. But you are making it very hard for us to follow in those ways."

Boris looked at the young bear with an appraising stare. He saw an above average height, rather thick young man, with large arms and a surprisingly scruffy blond beard which looked like it wasn't more than a week old. The goatee at its center was more mature, longer and fuller than the rest. His stance was at once defensive and defiant, legs set apart and arms folded but fingers nervously drumming. Every once in a while, his tongue would dart out to lick his lips.

"Let's cut the crap. What do you want?" Sebastian's voice was tight. The rest of his group sat or stood silently behind him, not interfering.

"Shall we sit?" Boris asked.

"No." Sebastian's voice was flat.

"As you wish. Though I suspect that at least some of the houses across the way are occupied and all of us standing here, squaring off for a fight, might just draw some unwanted attention. We aren't exactly inconspicuous. The authorities might be summoned. That would not be good for you... nor for us." Boris looked steadily at Sebastian. The rest of bears were each looking at the other, sizing each other up, gauging distances.

It was clear that Sebastian hadn't thought of that. His gaze wavered and he almost nervously looked over his shoulder.

Boris noted this lack of tactical thinking. This cub was not in the habit of always being aware of his surroundings, nor did he assess people around him well as demonstrated at the convenience store.

"OK. We'll sit. But don't get any fancy ideas."

Boris looked at Robert and shrugged slightly and then sat at one of the picnic tables. The sagging shelter gave some welcome shade and the other bears and rogues arranged themselves at the tables or standing.

"Why are you following us?" Sebastian demanded.

"Because we need to talk. Because we need to explain some things to you. Because you are a danger to yourselves and to us." Boris's eyes never left Sebastian's. Sebastian snorted. Some of the other rogues spoke softly amongst themselves.

"Quiet!" Sebastian snapped. The others fell silent.

"If you thought you'd hook up with us or hang out with us, just because we're like you, forget it. It ain't gonna happen." Sebastian folded his arms across his wide chest.

"You weren't listening." Robert interjected. "We don't want to hook up with you. We're here to..."

Sebastian interrupted, "Who the Hell is he? What's he got to do with this?"

It was obvious that Sebastian had accepted Boris as the leader and, like himself, the sole voice of their group.

"Well, you might say he's the reason we're here," Boris said. "He knows all about you, you see." Boris nodded at Robert. "Your Steve was a close friend of his."

There was a hiss as Sebastian sharply inhaled. "How do you know about that?" he demanded.

"Like I said. Robert was Steve's friend, a very dear friend. When he was killed, we came to Montana to see if we could help. We knew that you and Steve were living together and where to find you; after all, we made the arrangements for your new lives... or have you forgotten that? You are family, our kind; we came to help, but you were gone. No word left, no arrangements made... nothing." Boris paused and Robert took over.

"I made it my business to find out what had happened to you. So we know all about the thefts and the liquor stores and the bank robberies... and the murders."

"So? What about it? You gonna arrest us? Turn us in?" Sebastian snorted defiantly.

Robert almost burst out laughing, "I haven't lived as long as I have being as stupid as you are." He said. Several of the rogues angrily started to get up but Sebastian waved them down.

"Not now!" He growled just above a talking voice, aware of the public setting. The others relaxed. He glared at Robert, "So, out with it! What you got to say?"

Boris spoke again. "Of course we can't arrest you and we certainly can't turn you in to the authorities. Look, you're young and new to all of this and we've all been there." Boris raised a placating hand as Sebastian gritted his teeth. "We understand that you don't have all the information that you might have had if your Papa had lived to teach you." Sebastian showed no outward sign of the sting that last bit brought to him. "That's why we're here, in part. We're here to help you, to give you a chance." He paused again and some of the rogues looked at each other.

"Consider for a moment; sooner or later, one of you is going to get injured in some way in one of your robberies. You'll leave blood behind. The police will take samples and make investigations. Imagine what your DNA will show them. Or perhaps one of you will be so badly injured that you'll be captured, perhaps taken to a hospital. What will they think when they examine you and there are no more injuries? What if someone, somewhere sees one of you changing? That's already happened, hasn't it and with what results?"

Boris's eyes bored into Sebastian's but his words were for all the rogues. "Your activities are wrong but we're not here to punish you. But what you've done has put us, all of us, in serious danger and cannot go unchecked. Once you are discovered -- and make no mistake you will be discovered eventually – you will expose us all." Boris paused, gathering his thoughts.

The rogues began whispering among themselves and Sebastian once again silenced them.

"Our kind survive by being invisible, by 'flying under the radar' as you put it. We work very hard at keeping our existence out of the public eye. But once you are captured or your blood analyzed, there is proof and we will be exposed. Our existence becomes the headline on the evening news and every tabloid in this state and then the nation and then the world."

"I imagine you are familiar with the X-Men comics and movies. Special schools and a Cabinet-level Department of Mutant Affairs? It's all very pretty to imagine but the reality would be far less pleasant, I assure you. We'd be hunted down and exposed, one by one. Everyone who looked a little too young for their age would be 'examined'. Blood tests would be devised and put into widespread use on those who seem to be just a bit more healthy than normal. Every drug company on the planet would be after us, all of us, to harvest our blood and our tissue for experiments and research, searching for miracle cures for every disease known to man. The military would do anything to get their hands on us. Damned near instant super soldiers, special forces commandos who are a lot better at sniffing the enemy out than the average human; faster, stronger, and harder to kill."

"And then the fear would set in. From out of all the dark places on earth, the backward areas, the parts where superstition still governs men's hearts, there would come the waves of intolerance and persecution. We'd be hunted down, tortured, burned alive, crushed or impaled or any of the dozen other ways people have used to exterminate us in centuries past. You don't have to go back very many years to find the angry crowds of peasants bearing torches. The werewolf hysteria in the middle ages would look like a picnic compared to what would happen once there was real proof of our existence. And let's not even talk about the fact that most of us prefer to mate with our own sex. The simple fact that we're are different, dramatically different than the average Joe, will be quite enough to sign our death warrants."

"None of us want to end our existence with our bodies battered and broken, our skulls bashed in, our arms and legs wrenched from their sockets. I imagine our fates in the 'civilized' countries would be more refined. Here, we'd simply be imprisoned in medical labs, our blood constantly drained, our skin cut away, denied contact with our mates, caged for the rest of our very long lives like all the other experimental animals. After all, we're not exactly human, so I imagine human rights wouldn't apply to us. I seriously doubt that the good folks in PeTA would come to our rescue. How would you like to live a couple hundred years or longer in a maximum security cage while your parts are harvested shortly after growing back, never seeing the light of day again? If you're lucky, they'd just euthanize you and keep tissue samples to grow in vats."

Boris's chest was heaving, his impassioned speech causing his breath to come in shallow drafts. Robert put a hand on his friend's arm and squeezed lightly, then turned to face the rogues.

"You must stop what you are doing, for the sake of all shape shifters. We are offering you a way out and a fresh start. We'll go with you, help you clean up and dispose of the evidence back at that farm. We have friends who can create new identities for you and manipulate the news reports so the public doesn't hear much about this. We'll take you with us and teach you our ways, teach you our history and most important, show you how to survive unseen in this world as a werebear. Each of us has pledged to stay with you for whatever time it takes to get you settled. We'll raise you up as if you were our own cubs."

"And what do we have to do in return?" The question came from Rick, not Sebastian. Sebastian turned and glared at Rick but Rick returned the look steadily and then shifted his eyes to Boris and Robert.

"You come with us. You follow our directions when we give them. You do as we say in matters of bear behavior. You learn from us, everything you can. You consider how your actions would affect other bears. You help other bears whenever and wherever they need it and when the time comes, when you have stayed too long in one place without aging, you fade away and start a new life somewhere else. That's what you do until such time as you are ready to live on your own." Boris looked at each of the rogues in turn.

"So, that's all we have to do? Just be your boys, is that it?" Sebastian's voice dripped scorn. "Just do what we're told, like good little boys. Come when we're called, like dogs. Obey? Bend over, take it up the ass and then lick your boots." He spat on the ground.

"No, thanks. I had enough of that shit as a kid. 'Why can't you be a good boy?' 'Why can you be good like your brother?' 'Why can't you get good grades?' 'Come here and make daddy happy.' I'm sick of it, you hear? I had it at home, I had it in school and I had it in prison. I ain't gonna have it anymore. No fucking way. Not ever." Sebastian stood up.

"Look, you're angry. You're confused and, I suspect, you're lonely. You need some time to sort all this out. I'm sure you must feel as if we are trying to control you, to run your lives. I'd be angry, too. But believe me, we really do want to help all of you." Seeing the other rogues making ready to leave, Boris reached into his shirt pocket and took out a pen and piece of paper. "Look, here's a cell number. Call me tomorrow if you or any of your boys change your minds, OK?"

Sebastian stood, legs separated, arms folded across his chest, defiant. "Fat chance, old man."

"Still... please, think about it." He extended the paper towards Sebastian. "Robert has some things of Steve's. Call me and give me an address someplace and he'll send them to you. I think you might like to have them, I don't imagine you have much of his." He kept his hand out with the paper between his fingers.

The creases around his mouth tightened but reluctantly, Sebastian took the paper and stuffed it in his jeans. "Are we done here?"

"I'm guessin' we are, if you won't see reason," Larry growled.

"Meaning?" Trey spoke up for the first time.

Before Boris could interject, Larry spat out,

"Meanin' if y'all don't come with us an' change yer ways, we got us no choice. Y'all gotta die." Larry began to grow larger, his muscles puffing out, his chest beginning to barrel and his thighs straining at his pant legs, changing just enough to become frightening as a man. Each of them, bear and rogue, backed up to give themselves fighting room. Suddenly Mitch said loudly, "Wait! Look!"

Mitch nodded at without pointing to a state police cruiser that had pulled up on the other side of the park, moving slowly, observing. The others looked.

"It would appear that someone has alerted the authorities," Boris said. "I suggest that we appear to be having a friendly tussle. A comradely punch on the arm, a slap on the back; we really don't need any more attention, do we?" There was no movement on the rogue's part.

"Now, if you please; before the nice man in the car radios for assistance." He seized Sebastian's hand and shook it and pulled him slightly forward into a brief hug so he could slap him on the back, looking like old friends. Gradually, the others did similar things. Two of the rogues put their arms over each other's shoulders and began walking toward their scoots.

Sebastian's mind had closed, cemented shut by bitterness and hurt. Nothing would induce him to take the offer... nothing at all. Keeping up the pretense of comraderie for the observing police cruiser, he walked along with Boris and Robert as if they were the best of friends but hissed through his teeth, "This isn't finished, old man. You come here offerin' your way or death... well, you just watch your back 'cause I ain't takin' neither of those options."

Sebastian growled, then turned and walked away from the bears. Rick and the others walked with him, with Rick turning his head once to look over his shoulder. The bears were left alone in the park as the rogues carefully motored off, the groups waved to each other and that seemed to satisfy the state trooper. A light wind began to kick up dust from the empty baseball field and the trooper drove off.

"Well, that went well!" Rusty said in a weak attempt at humor. The bears looked at each other.

"You know what this means," Robert said.

"We ain't got no choice now, like I said," Larry chimed in.

"I fear you are right, mon ami," René said, evident sadness in his voice.

Vic chewed on his cigar, shifted it to the other side of his mouth and spoke. "We should get back to a motel somewhere's close by. It'll be dark soon and we need to make plans." He looked up at the sky. "I'd hoped to be done with killin'." He shrugged and rose, walking to the car. Walt, Moose and the rest rose and headed to the vehicles.

This part of Montana had been ignored by the national motel chains, so the bears' choice was limited to the Traveler's Rest Motel, which advertised itself as 'Your Best Bet for a Bed'.

"Our only bet, more like," Larry said as they turned in to the old fashioned motor court.

After checking in, they all met in Moose and Rusty's cabin, which was the biggest. It was still tight with all nine bears together. Normally, there would have been a lot of affectionate groping and nuzzling in such close proximity but now, the mood was grim. Vic suggested posting at least one lookout and Boris agreed. Larry took that job. "Text me on your cell if you see any hint of them," Boris said. Larry nodded and moved off. He crossed the highway and circled behind the abandoned gas station. A discarded ladder provided an easy way up to the roof. Concealed behind the old rusted Sinclair sign, he had a good view of the road in both directions as well as the motel. The sun was setting and the sky was clear; it was going to be cold tonight.

Moose spoke next. "One's not enough. What if they decide to come across that field and hide in those trees or bushes?"

Boris smiled and nodded. "Good thinking, Moose. We could post another but where?" He looked out the window. "We can't climb up on the roofs of any of the cabins, the management might notice and if any of the cabins get rented tonight, vacationers might see or hear us up there."

"How about that?" Rusty said pointing to a utility shed at the back of the motor court. "The row of cabins screens it from the office and if one of us stayed low, no one could see from the ground."

Boris smiled again. "Excellent! Who want to take the first watch then?" René volunteered. "Good. One of us will spell you in two hours. You got your cell?" René nodded and headed out the door, checking the signal as he went. "Mitch, how about you and Rusty giving Larry and René a break in a couple of hours and we'll fill them in on what we've decided. But if either of them calls with a warning, I think it best we scatter. It will make it harder for them to hit us if were are widely separated. Agreed?" The rest nodded but Rusty queried, "What... no 'safety in numbers'?"

Vic answered. "The only way they can kill us is a head shot or a heart shot if they use something big enough. If we're all together, it'll be easier to pull that off, especially if they attack in a group. Separate, they got to hit nine separate targets, all of them firing back."

The next two hours passed quietly. There was no warning text message from either lookout but the discussion of plans inside the cabin was intense. Robert pointed out that they had no way of knowing what the rogues had in mind. "They may just leave, move on, hope to get away from us. They're young, after all, they really don't know our ways or understand the danger. They might just hope by moving elsewhere, their 'problem', meaning us, will just go away."

"Maybe," Vic said. "But remember that Sebastian's killed before. If he gets it into his head to solve his problem here and now, we need to be ready." He turned to Boris, "We should bring the guns in." The big bear nodded. "I think we should pass 'em out now, just to be on the safe side." Vic and Boris went out and got the weapons. When they came back, they discussed strategy and targets.

Mitch and Walt looked at each other. "This really is serious, isn't it?" Mitch said, taking Walt's hand.

Walt nodded. "Looks like."

"Shit, I never figured we'd be in this kind of mess. I mean, it's like a novel or something or a war movie." Moose shook his head then hugged Rusty.

"Well, if we go, we go together." Rusty said solemnly.

Moose hugged him tighter. "OK, bad choice of words, but we stay together, I don't care what Boris says. I'm not leaving you. Period."

Rusty looked up at Moose and put his paw on his lover's thick auburn beard. "Thanks," was all he could manage for a moment.

"It made my blood run cold when Boris and Vic started talking about which one to target first and who would be the easiest to kill. You know we're planning murder here... calculated murder." Rusty stared into Moose's deep brown eyes. Moose shook his head.

"No. Not murder. Self defense and I don't mean just here, I mean when we hunt them down. It's still self defense, for all of us. If what Boris and Robert say is true, these guys will get caught sooner or later and there goes any chance at keeping any of us secret. There will be living, breathing proof of us. The public will have proof we exist and after that, the persecutions will begin."

Rusty looked steadily at his mate. "If we kill these guys, we'll be criminals in the eyes of the rest of the world."

"Well," Moose said, with more than a little sadness in his voice, "I guess we aren't part of the rest of the world anymore, are we?"

The discussion in the cabin continued but in reality, each knew what had to be done. When the talk finally faded out, replaced by a brooding silence, Boris spoke.

"We're agreed, then. If the rogues don't show tonight, we go after them and we keep after them until they are all taken care of, once and for all." Boris looked at each bear in turn. Each nodded, though some reluctantly.

By morning, each of the bears had done a spell of guard duty and each had slept, if only fitfully. There had been no sign of the rogues. The bears loaded up the vehicles and checked out of the motel.

"Which way?" Walt asked as they stood in the cold morning air.

"Well, they've been heading north all along and no one saw any sign of one bike heading south on the highway, let alone eight. I say we continue north." Robert looked around. "With 'Rusty-the-early-warning-system' on our side, they can't sneak up on us. Walt and Vic can ask discreetly at any gas station or diner we pass if they've passed on ahead of us. Just about anyone looking at either of them would think 'biker' and probably wouldn't wonder much why they were asking about eight guys on bikes." Boris nodded in agreement.

Walt took off his jacket and donned his worn Harley t-shirt and pin encrusted leather vest. This wardrobe change, of course, revealed the tattoos on his arms as much as his thick hair would allow. He reached into a small leather bag and pulled out several big heavy, well worn silver rings which he put on every finger. Skulls seemed to be a favorite motif of the jewelry. He put on a black bandana with little skull and crossbones all over it, tying it back on his head as bikers do. He smiled at Boris then fixed his face in a cold 'I don't give a shit' expression.

"Perfect!" Boris said.

"OK, let's go." The rest piled into the three big vehicles and swung out onto the highway, heading north.

Chapter 9

Earlier the previous evening, while the bears had been watching and waiting at the motel, the rogues had indeed headed north on the highway.

"Keep your eyes peeled for someplace to lay up." Sebastian had ordered.

In the dusk, it had been easy to overlook potential hiding places, but finally Jack, riding to the rear, flashed his lights and pointed off the road. The others slowed and turned around, heading back to where Jack had stopped. He pointed to an overgrown, nearly invisible track that lead to a clearing and a shadowy structure. It looked from a distance like just the sort of place Sebastian had been hoping to find. They might be able to lie low here to let the heat die down from their last robbery. It was a barn, abandoned. It was set alone in the clearing miles from the nearest town. The gang rolled up to it and killed their motors. Each dismounted, kicked stands and stood looking at the structure.

"If we sneeze, that thing'll fall down." Ron said.

"Yeah, no way I'm going in there," Trey said, shifting a toothpick in his mouth.

"Well, I don't wanna sleep wet tonight an' it looks like rain." Sebastian said. "Wheel the bikes round back. We don't want those guys seeing 'em if they drive by. Come on Rick, we'll check this puppy out." Sebastian and Rick entered the old barn.

The air was thick with dust, the smell of rotting hay and mouse and bird droppings. Everything was covered with a thick layer of dust. Looking around, the two saw rusted and broken tools and farm implements, some rope and harnesses scattered about. It looked as if no one had been here in some time, months at least.

"Shit, this place stinks." Sebastian moved around the interior, poking at things at random. Rick was more purposeful, looking for a place where blankets could be laid out on beds of straw.

Rick looked up, scanning the beams and roof shingles. "Sebastian, this part of the roof looks good and the support beams look sturdy, so I think this part of the structure is sound enough. It looks rickety from the outside, but it won't come down on us any time soon."

Sebastian snorted, "Since when did you become an expert in construction?"

"I've picked up a few things here and there," Rick said, with a touch of hurt in his voice. "There's enough room for all of us under here and the bikes, too, if we have to. These bales of hay aren't rotted. Actually, it's not bad... kinda nice really, compared to a lean-to at an abandoned rest stop." Rick looked at Sebastian, hopeful that his mild dig wouldn't set off another foul mood on Sebastian's part.

Sebastian wrinkled his nose but didn't rise to the bait. "Only you would call a place like this 'kinda nice'." This time, Sebastian's voice didn't have the usual sarcastic edge and Rick relaxed a little. "Tell the others to get in here and get settled." Rick went back out and in a few minutes and the others had piled inside, claiming spaces for themselves.

"I need a hot meal, man." Trey said, rubbing his belly.

Tony idly lifted his shirt and scratched the thick line of hair rising from his belted crotch. "Yeah, I could go for that, too."

"To hell with that!" Jack said. "I need a drink and not any of that malt liquor shit. Who's with me?" Ron and Kyle both nodded. "Count me in!" said Trey.

"I'm gettin' too well known 'round here, I'll stay put. You can go if you want, but no rough stuff. I don't want the cops throwin' your sorry asses in jail or followin' you back here." Sebastian stretched out on a hay bale. "You stay, Rick." It was plain what was on Sebastian's mind. He reached out and cupped Rick's package in his right hand, looking up into Ricks face with a wide grin, Rick gave a small happy growl. Sebastian continued, never taking his eyes off of Rick, "You guys goin' out for food, bring back eats and beer for the rest of us."

Ron, Kyle, Trey and Jack left the rest and mounted their scoots and headed up the road to the next town on the map. Jason and Tony headed out, too, looking for a likely diner with orders from the others for grub to bring back. Outside, gathering clouds hastened the twilight as the thrum of exhausts faded on the highway.

Sebastian pulled Rick close and kissed him deeply and with more passion than he'd shown in awhile. Growling softly as he began to shift shape as he stripped, "I'm fuckin' horny as a goat with four balls! How 'bout you give your daddy some honey?"

Rick smiled and was glad that Sebastian was in a better mood, though he didn't quite understand why. Still, he wasn't going to argue. "You got it... all the honey you can eat, daddy." Rick said as he too stripped. Sebastian had achieved near full werebear form. He was far less human than he usually was in this partial shift state and everything was bigger. Rick remained in human form, though. He loved to feel Sebastian's larger cock stretch his throat, and his daddy loved it, too. He completely sheathed Sebastian's rod and the blond bear gave a satisfied rumble, followed by a series of wuffles, huffs and growled noises. This close to full bear form, he was unable to use human words, but Rick understood that Sebastian wanted Rick to shift after the blowjob so he could be bred in full bear form.

Things were looking up for Rick tonight. His concern about the reason for Sebastian's rapid change of mood was lost in the anticipation of being fucked.

Meanwhile, Ron, Kyle, Trey and Jack pulled up to what looked to be the only bar in the tiny town of Floweree. The Oasis obviously served as both the watering hole and social center of Floweree. The place was a lot more crowded than the size of the town outside would indicate. The four seated themselves at the bar and ordered. The click of pool balls and cues competed unsuccessfully with Tammy Wynette urging the cowgirls of the world to 'stand by their men'.

Rolling his eyes, Jack irritably asked, "Fuck, ain't they got any new music in the shit hole?" Kyle turned his head and shushed Jack.

"Remember what Sebastian said: we ain't suppos'd to call attention to ourselves. Jus' keep it nice and easy. If you don't like what's on, you got a quarter, go feed it to the machine and play something else when it's done."

Tammy had changed her tune and was now proudly declaring that her man loved her all the way. Jack rose and went to the juke box and looked over the selections. Eyes in the booths and at the pool table followed him. He looked at the listing, then returned to the bar in disgust.

"Nada, zilch. Hell, looks like this place ain't even heard of ZZTop." He signaled for another beer.

"Well, just keep it quiet... everyone's watchin'," Trey hissed. Jack morosely stared into his beer. Eyes gradually returned to other targets, but returned in short order to the front of the bar, where the front door swung open and a rangy, scruffy man walked in. He looked worn out and worn down. It was obvious that he'd once had some bulk to him, but now he looked, if not half-starved, at least hungry.

Snake looked over the crowd in the bar. It was loud, smokey and properly dim. His eyes narrowed and then he spotted four big bikers sitting at the end of the bar, with an empty stool next to them. These must be the guys who rode the scoots outside and were the reason for his stopping at The Oasis. He ambled over and asked, "This taken?" The closest biker silently shook his head. Snake eased his tired body into the space and looked at the bar keep. "Coors... draft." The four were obviously well ahead of him.

Snake did his best not to look it, but he was down to his last few dollars. Cut loose from the Army after Desert Storm, he'd come home to find his old job was gone, along with the company he'd worked for. The VA docs gave short shrift to the nightmares and panic attacks that haunted him, basically telling him to buck up and get a hold of himself and to just keep taking the pills. He'd come home with all four limbs and no visible scars, so what was the problem? Nothing seemed to fit anymore; not his friends, not his profession, none of it. It was like he didn't belong anywhere in regular society anymore. He'd stopped keeping the appointments, and an overstretched and underfunded system let him fall through the cracks.

When the benefits stopped, he'd bought a bike with the last of the mustering-out money and hit the road, like many a vet before him had. They, too, 'didn't belong anymore'. He had knocked around the country, doing odd jobs here and there, then moving on when he became uncomfortable. He never seemed to quite fit in like he used to and he knew damn well he didn't take to being ordered around. Of course, in the Army, that had been a problem. One of several.

He'd stuck with the last job, in Denver, for over two months. It was different situation in a way he couldn't quite define and it had held him there longer than the others, but like they say, 'last hired, first fired'; and that's what happened all right. The boss had said he was a hard worker and one of the best he'd seen when he'd given him the bad news. "Come and see me next spring, man. We always hire in the spring. Come and see me then." Fat lot of good that did him now. He sold the last of his cd's and the walkman along with his daddy's retirement watch. The watch had been hard to part with, having carried it through his tours of duty; but he knew daddy would rather he survived than hold onto a watch and starve or freeze to death. He'd headed north with no clear plan in mind.

So here he was in Floweree, Montana, down to his last few dollars and his last tank of gas. He wasn't altogether sure about these guys at the bar. There was something a bit 'off' about them, just the tiniest little frisson of 'otherness' running down his backbone; but hey, they were bros and seemed friendly enough in a guarded way. He'd put it down to being jumpy. He hadn't been that jumpy before the Army. But since he'd joined up, he felt like most of his waking hours were spent looking over his shoulder. Too many asshole mud brick villages with Republican Guards around each corner, he guessed. Too many booby traps and ambushed, dead buddies. Too many close calls in the desert; and too many of another kind in the barracks and showers.

Still, he hoped that maybe these dudes would give him a bit of gas from each of their tanks, maybe let him know of any work they knew of. Besides, it had been weeks since he'd gotten laid and two of these guys were kinda cute. One in particular was eyeing him. He shifted his cock in his jeans to give the swelling organ more room. He set down his beer and turned to the one closest to him.

Idle conversation followed, then a round of pool. The older of the two cute ones had definitely kept eye contact longer than was strictly required, and more than once, too; though discreetly enough that none of the regulars seemed to notice. In backwater places like this it was always prudent to be discrete.

The oldest paid for the next round of beers and that was followed by the story of how Snake had earned his nickname in the Army and tales of liberation of Kuwait and the drive into Iraq. More stories followed, but eventually they adjourned to the parking lot. Shortly thereafter, Snake was gratefully siphoning a small amount of gas from each of the other's tanks.

"Thanks, guys. Much obliged." There was a silence, born of Snake's deep distaste for the situation he found himself in. He cleared his throat and finally broke it, if quietly. "You guys mind if I ride with you for a bit? I... I ain't got nowhere to sleep tonight and I could use a decent meal." He refused to hang his head, holding it up and staring each of them directly in the eye.

"Um, I guess it wouldn't hurt none, seeing as it's gonna rain," Ron said, looking up at the dark clouded sky. "You think Sebastian would mind?" he said to Trey.

"Ah, fuck Sebastian," Trey said, slightly slurring his words with excess beer. "This guy's a vet, fer Chrissakes. He needs a place to crash, an' we got a whole fuckin' barn. Fer Chrissakes. We'll grab some grub before we head back too, I'm pickin' yours up," Trey said, patting Snake on the shoulder. Jack belched loudly.

"Much appreciated." Snake said and held out his hand. Trey pulled him into a rough hug.

"Think nothin' of it. Yer a brother, in more 'an a couple of ways I'm guessin'" Trey said and winked.

There was dead silence.

"So, how long did ya know?" Snake asked, looking somewhat embarrassed.

Kyle looked at Trey and then, smiling, looked back at Snake. "Dude, it was pretty obvious that your eyes weren't on the women in that place." Kyle said softly. "Don't worry, your secret is safe with us."

They mounted up and Ron motioned for Snake and the others to follow him. Ron took the lead and rode a bit ahead in case they encountered trouble with the others they'd met with earlier. Snake didn't question the somewhat odd formation, accepting it as just something these guys did. Kyle stayed close to Snake. They stopped briefly at a hole in the wall burger joint that looked original to the 1950s and grabbed some food. Snake tried not to wolf down his burger, but when he was finished before the others could start their second ones and was eating the last of his fries, Kyle went back and got him two more.

Snake began to thank him again but Kyle raised his hand, "Like Trey said, you're a brother, remember? Trey nodded. Jack belched again.

Soon, they were headed out on the darkened road towards the edge of town and the state highway that lead past the barn.

The next morning, Sebastian did indeed mind when he found another occupant of the barn.

"Holy shit, man! Are you out of your fuckin' mind?" he nearly screamed at Trey. The angry sound stirred the others to wakefulness and Trey desperately pushed Sebastian out of the barn, attempting to explain about Snake.

He related all the information Snake had given them and assured Sebastian that no one had told him anything incriminating about themselves. "He don't know we're wanted and he don't know we're anything other than what we look like. We told him nada, 'cept we were staying in this barn. Besides," Trey added, "he's Army, he's a vet. I couldn't just leave him! I had buddies that served in his outfit."

Trey left out certain other details. He didn't want Sebastian to blow his top any further... just yet.

"Well, I don't care. It ain't safe to bring just anyone around, you know that. How do we know we can trust him not to head right back to town and turn us in for a reward, huh?" Sebastian glared at Trey.

"Aw, come on, man! All he wanted was a little gas for his tank and a place to sleep." Trey was getting worried that Sebastian would blame him and when Sebastian lost his temper, there was just no telling what he'd do.

With a sudden change in mood that was becoming more and more common with him, Sebastian quieted down and looked thoughtful. "OK, OK. He knows we're here, he's seen us and the bikes. Maybe it would be best if we keep him with us for a bit, so we can be sure he doesn't head back to the police, keep an eye on him. We can decide what to do with him later." He strode back inside. His eyes moved over the interior and settled on Kyle, who was quietly talking to Snake, rubbing his knee as they sat. "But tell Kyle to stop flirting with him... that's the last thing we need."

"Right." said Trey.

Rick had risen with Sebastian, warm and drained after having given a long and talented blow job to Sebastian and having received a somewhat less talented, shorter, but still satisfying one in return. Hearing Sebastian's angry voice, he felt it was best to busy himself elsewhere. He was looking around the barn, inspecting a sort of side alcove at the back of the structure, when his eye caught something on the floor. He bent down, brushing the dust and straw away with his hand. There was what looked like a recessed ring, nearly invisible in the dirt and bird droppings. A faint straight line not far from the ring was just visible, nearly covered by dust and one of the hay bales.

"Sebastian, come look at this." Rick shoved the hay to one side as Sebastian arrived and lifted the ring and heaved on it, opening what turned out to be a trap door. The hinges on the underside of the door had obviously been well oiled. The trap door, though stiff and heavy, lifted silently.

"Well, fuck me! ... what we got here?" Sebastian said as he and Rick stared down the dark hole and at the stairs that descended. As Rick lifted the door higher, there was a soft click and the stairwell was flooded with light, momentarily dazzling both bears.

"What tha..." both exclaimed. Rick nearly dropped the door.

Sebastian reached out and helped push the door all the way back on its silent hinges.

Sebastian whispered, "Get the others. Tell them to bring guns. Bring a flashlight." Rick hustled back to the main part of the barn and returned in a moment with the others. Each carried a gun and a flashlight. Snake had been given a flashlight but not a gun and stood close to Kyle.

"What is this place?" Trey asked.

"Dunno, but I say we find out," Sebastian said quietly. One by one, the bears descended the stairs, stepping softly and carefully, alert for danger. Even Trey and Jack stopped their arguing.

At the base of the stairs was a large cement-floored room, perhaps forty feet square, with shelves against the walls and extending out into the room, making aisles. A wide space was clear on one side, with doors opening off it. The shelves were filled with boxes and cartons, some labeled, many not.

The bears quietly fanned out and inspected the corners of the room and the hall that extended off it. It soon became obvious that they were alone in the underground bunker. It was just them and the boxes.

Ron moved to inspect some of the boxes. "Looks like food. Cans in these here." he said opening two. "Looks like protein bars in these." he said, opening some more.

"Bottled water over here," Trey called out. Jason found more protein bars and what looked like MRE's. Kyle and Snake opened boxes filled with camp stoves and fuel. Sebastian busily inspected other boxes. "There's enough shit here to feed an army for weeks."

"Look over here," Rick called out. He had opened one of the doors that was set in the wall. "It's all medical stuff, equipment and such." Boxes and bottles were marked with the names of various drugs and antibiotics. Bandages in sealed packets sat next to splints and elastic wraps. There was a pair of high intensity lights on stands and what looked like an examining table. "What do ya think this is... some Army supply dump?

"Nah... more like some survivalist hidy-hole." Sebastian shined the flashlight around. Everywhere the beam landed there were shelves and supplies. Ventilation duct grills were set in the ceiling. The air, though cool and slightly damp, did not smell stale or funky. "Whoever they are, they've got a lot of money." He looked at the fading lights overhead. "I bet these things are run on some sort of battery."

"Here," Ron said, from inside another room. "This looks like a generator and there's cans of oil and a valve of some sort and plumbing." The others crowded into the room. Lanterns, various kinds of flashlights and batteries filled shelves along one wall.

"Wow. They've thought of everything. I'll bet that line connects to some sort of a tank somewheres outside, diesel probably. This valve controls it. The exhaust goes out that pipe up there," Sebastian said, pointing to a large pipe that exited up through the roof of the room. What looked like an electrical panel was set into the wall, with thick conduit leading into it. Suddenly, the generator kicked in and settled into a regular purr. Everyone jumped, then looked sheepishly at each other.

"Timer?" asked Ron.

"That or some circuit that monitors the battery charge level." said Jack.

"Still, we'd better check. Jason, you go up top and make sure we're still alone." Jason nodded and slipped out and back up the stairs.

"Well, none of this is any good to us, 'cept maybe the medical stuff. We can't carry much." Tony nudged a box of canned goods with his foot.

Suddenly Sebastian spoke. "Look for gold." He motioned for the other bears to move and inspect the boxes on the floor.

"Huh?" Ron looked like Sebastian had just spoken Martian.

"Look... for... gold." He repeated, drawing it out as if speaking to a child. "I read somewhere that survivalists don't stockpile money 'cause they think it won't be worth shit after whatever disaster they expect, but they're supposed to have stocks of gold. So look."

The rest busied themselves moving cartons and looking behind things but after an hour of searching, they came up with nothing resembling gold. Books, cd's, vitamin and protein supplements, boxes of hand and power tools, batteries, but no gold. But Kyle did find something Sebastian found useful.

"Hey, guys, look at this! Ammo." He held the door to what looked like a closet open while the other peered in. It quickly became apparent that 'ammo' didn't begin to describe the room's contents. Shelf after shelf of nearly every kind of explosive ordinance imaginable, short of ICBM's, filled the room, floor to ceiling. On another shelf, guns, rifles, automatic weapons all in their crates still packed away in their original packing grease.

Meanwhile, Jason returned. "No one up top but birds and rabbits.

Rick stood, looking at labels on boxes and cans he held. "You know, looking at the dates on some of this canned stuff, I'm guessing no one's restocked in a couple of years. I wonder if whoever set up this place got locked up? Some of those survivalists and militia men are pretty flaky."

"Well, I don't care who left it or why. Right now, it's ours and we're gonna use whatever we can." Sebastian said.

"Hey, what's this?" said Jack, holding up a brick of what looked like gray putty.

"Oh, geez, man, put that down! That's plastique." Trey, who had been in the army for six years before being dishonorably discharged, had specialized in explosives.

"I thought that stuff needed a detonator to go off, pussy," Jack said, tossing the brick to Trey with a harsh laugh. Trey glared at Jack and carefully replaced the brick on the shelf.

"Jackass," he said, clearly bent on needling Jack. "Just stop screwing around, asswipe. You'll get us all killed. Some of this stuff gets unstable when it ages."

Jack puffed up and looked as if he was about to lunge at Trey. Rick stepped between the two. "No," he hissed. "Not here."

Snake observed the interaction, liking the setup less and less.

Sebastian had gone quiet and was looking carefully at the shelves. Ignoring the brewing fight, he snapped, "OK, get what you need and can carry in the saddle bags. Don't forget ammo. Snake, you, too, since you're hangin'."

"I thought we were going to lay low here for a bit, let those guys get ahead of us?" Rick looked at Sebastian.

"Nope." Sebastian's eyes narrowed a bit. "I got an idea. Help me with this." He began to move a heavy box.

Rick and Sebastian dragged the box along a bottom shelf, as Trey and Jack glared at each other over them. Rick looked up. "Get the ammo, like Sebastian said."

Sebastian grunted as the box finally slid off the shelving and onto the floor. "Open this and we'll carry it up a bit at a time." Sebastian grabbed two boxes of detonators, muttering to himself as he climbed the stairs.

Once up the stairs and in the barn, Sebastian paused and scratched the thicket of blond hair on his chest. "Trey, I want you to rig up something to give those guys a real surprise when they pay us a visit. A bang. A really big bang. I want to blow those fuckers into so many pieces they won't be able to find their assholes. Can you do that?"

Trey, eyes glittering evilly, nodded.

Snake, carrying up a box, caught that. He didn't like the sound of what might be brewing here. The sense of 'otherness', of something off kilter, had returned and was stronger now. Snake had never gotten on well with authority, and wasn't above defying it when and where possible; but he drew the line at murder. What was being planned now sounded very much like murder to Snake.

"Jack, you and Ron go with Trey and bring up anything he says will blow up. Stuff it in all these hay bales and along those beams. He looked around. "The rest of you, get some of this hay scattered around the wall. Snake, see if there's some way to lock those barn doors. Don't lock 'em yet." When Snake didn't hop right to it he added, " Well, c'mon, we ain't got all day." The others moved to do Sebastian's bidding.

Snake muttered to himself, "If that fuckin' bastard gives me one more order..." He spat on the barn floor, then went outside to check the barn doors hardware to see if any of it was in operable condition. Most of it was serviceable, but there was no hasp for a lock or pin. He went back in to tell Sebastian.

"Well, what do you want me to do about it?" snapped Sebastian. "Look around, find something."

"OK, that's it!" Snake glared at Sebastian. "Look, I'm sorry I bothered you guys. I don't know what you're up to and I really don't care. I appreciate what you guys did for me last night, but I don't take orders no more and especially from a guy who ain't old enough to fuckin' know shit. I'm outta here." With that, he stomped out of the barn and headed for his bike.

"Eh, fuck you, too, ya bastard!" Sebastian muttered, intent on his plan. 'There'll be time enough to hunt him down later and teach him not to fuck with me,' he thought. Through the open barn door, he watched Snake wheel his bike off its stand, kick it into life and motor off. When Snake was out of earshot, he stepped outside to put the next part of his plan into action. He walked away from the barn and flipped open his cell. Only one bar glowed on the screen. 'Maybe closer to the highway,' he thought and moved off towards the road, watching the screen as he walked. Finally, just before reaching the concrete, he had four bars and he fished out the paper Boris had given him earlier. He punched in the numbers and waited. On the third ring, Boris picked up.

Making his voice a convincing mixture of sincerity and reluctance, Sebastian spoke into the phone. "Some of the guys have been talking and, well, they want to take you up on your offer. I think maybe they've got a point. It's too hot around here for us now anyway, so maybe we should clear out. Go somewhere with you guys and maybe start fresh. I know this won't be easy and that you don't trust us... why should you? But maybe we can just sit and talk, make some plans? I know I flew off the handle, back when..." The voice on the other end interrupted him.

"No, I was out of line. I get that way, sometimes and say things I don't mean. I'm... sorry." There was another pause.

"No, we can't. Jason's had trouble with his brakes and took a fall, and Tony's chain's broke." There was a pause. "Hey, listen," Sebastian said, as if the idea had just struck him, "why don't you come here? There's an old barn here that's in decent shape, at least in the back it is. It looks like a big storm is kicking up, so riding's not the best idea, anyway. Maybe one of you could take Snake into town so he could get a replacement chain and some other parts and shit while we talk?" A question was obviously being asked on the other end.

"Oh, no... he's healing, but the chain's fucked," Sebastian improvised. "No one around here's seen Snake, so that should be OK if he goes. Really? You will? Thanks. I guess... maybe... I guess you guys really are all right." Another pause.

"What? Oh, yeah. Well, where are you?" Sebastian listened, a smile flickering at the corners of his mouth. "OK, well, you take the state highway north about five miles. There's an old falling down grain silo. Start looking on your right, you'll see an old road about 200 yards later. Turn on that and follow it, it leads to a clearing and the barn." After another pause, Sebastian said, "OK, See you then. And...." Here, he lowered his voice and amped up the sincerity. "I'm sorry, I was wrong about you guys. I really owe you one."

Sebastian flipped the phone closed with a snap of his wrist and shoved it back in his pocket with a short but wicked laugh. "And I'll pay off, too... in spades." He set off for the barn at a trot.

Chapter 10

Once they'd reached the old grain silo Sebastian had mentioned in his directions, the bears pulled off the road to confer. At Vic's insistence, they decided to scout the area first before proceeding.

"We need to know what these guys are up to. I don't trust any of them as far as I could throw them. This whole thing stinks of setup," he said and the others nodded.

"Agreed. But we must use caution. Their senses are as sharp as ours, if not as experienced. We should stay down wind of the barn as much as possible." Boris said.

"That's it over there in the clearing, I think, no?" René was pointing to the old barn with the peeling paint and lantern-jawed doors. Boris nodded.

"So, what did he say on the phone?" Moose asked.

"It wasn't so much what he said as how he was saying it," Boris said, peering ahead into the clearing. "He was being quite the prodigal son and was so very charming, very believable, but we all know we cannot trust him. René, you, Vic and Robert fan out and reconnoiter. Don't provoke them, and don't get brave. Come back and get us once you know where they all are. We need to know if they are all in a group or have scattered." The three nodded and moved quickly and quietly off, melting into the brush and trees. Their large size belied the ease and stealth with which they moved.

Vic crouched, mostly concealed by the underbrush and a large boulder. He could see the barn, and a few of the rogues moving around inside of it. The breeze made it hard for him to catch scents to tell how many there were. Silently he moved from behind the big rock and to a clump of trees. He was working his way around through the woods opposite his companions. He was just about ready to go back to report when a voice broke the silence.

"Don't move. Don't even breathe, or I'll blow your head right off," the voice said quietly. The gun muzzle pressed harder into the back of Vic's skull. Vic froze where he'd knelt to examine what looked like a footprint. He tried to catch a scent but failed. He assumed it must be one of the rogues. The woods grew silent except for the rasping breath of Sebastian and some far off noises of woodland creatures.

"You guys don't give up, do you?" Sebastian had risen up from behind another large boulder where he had hunkered down when he'd heard Vic carefully walking towards the clearing. As luck would have it, the breeze had kicked up and he'd been downwind of Vic. He pushed the gun a bit harder into Vic' skull. "Get up."

Vic rose from where he had been kneeling behind a thick tree trunk and slowly stood.

"Hands up!"

Vic complied.

"I figured you guys would take precautions. Where are your buddies?" Sebastian adjusted his weight from one foot to the other. Vic began to raise an arm to wipe the sweat from his brow.

"No!" Sebastian snapped. "You don't move until I tell you."

Vic risked speech. "Look... don't make this worse than it already is. We can work some..." A soft sound from behind them silenced Vic and made Sebastian shove the gun harder into the back of the bigger bear's head.

"If that's one of your buddies, you both die." he rasped.

"Oh, for fuck's sake!" Vic growled, losing his patience with the youngster. "Use your senses. That's a squirrel up in that tree behind you. Surely you can hear that. You're a werebear, make use of it!"

"Oh, sure. You guys come in here, all big and important, know-it-alls. You're so much better than us, you know so much more than we do. Shit. What do you know about us or me? You've got your buddies, your little harem. I've got fuck all. What do you know about anything, about losing someone?"

Sebastian's angry, almost incoherent speech puzzled Vic. He thought rapidly. He could tell that under the 'little boy whining' Sebastian was at the ragged edge of control, barely holding it together. Whatever it was that was eating him, was pushing him almost over the edge.

He tried expressing sympathy. "Look, loss is a part of living for everyone. It's a part of our lives, too. We live so long, we're bound to see people we care about die while we... go on. It's one of the hardest things we have to come to terms with. Steve would have taught you that." Vic paused. "And as a mater of fact, I do know about losing someone." Vic tried to move ever so slightly into a better position while he spoke.

At the mention of Steve's name, Sebastian sucked in his breath sharply. They knew. Somehow they knew. Momentarily, he let his mind flicker back to the times he had with Steve, and the aching feeling of aloneness he fought daily to bury with sex or drink. Then his mind snapped shut and his resolve returned.

"Well, you're about to loose something else, man. You think you know about me? About loss? Well, think..." Sebastian's finger tightened on the trigger just as his eye caught a movement at the edge of his field of sight. At the same time, they both heard what sounded like a footfall or the snapping of a twig. A squirrel had gone too far out on a rotten branch, and had fallen to the ground as the branch snapped. It chattered angrily as Sebastian jerked partially around. Vic took advantage of his momentary break in attention and started to move forward and down. Sebastian moved his arm rapidly back and fired.

The deafening report of the gun silenced all noise except the thud of Vic's body as it hit the ground.

"SHIT! Shit, shit, shit!" Sebastian stared intently at the still figure. There was no movement, save for rapidly-widening pool of blood seeping around Vic's skull. Sebastian waited a few moments longer, nudged the still body a few times with his foot. The big man was obviously dead. Satisfied, he grunted and moved off at a run towards the clearing and the barn beyond, thinking of Steve.

Minutes later, when he reached the barn, the others were putting finishing touches on the explosives.

"They're here!" Sebastian said loud enough to be heard but without shouting.

They all looked up.

"Already?" Rick asked.

"Yeah, I just killed one beyond the clearing. You hear any vehicles?" he snapped. The others all shook their heads. Rick was staring at Sebastian, white-faced.

"WHAT? You think I was going to let them sneak up on us? Shit. Now I gotta come up with something else to get them in here. If they're close, they probably heard the shot... dammit!" He kicked a bale of rotting hay, scattering a family of mice. Rick stepped in close to him.

"Sebastian, I'm sick of the killing. Why does it always have to be fixed with a bullet? Why..." Sebastian glared at Rick, cutting him off.

"Because it works, fuckbrain! Because it's the only way to kill one of them."

"One of us!" Rick corrected. "Sebastian, this is crazy. If we go to them now, maybe we can..."

"Can what? Obey? Settle down? Join them? No fuckin' way! I don't want any part of that... or them. You follow me, you understand? Think you can do that? You take your orders from me and if you don't like it, you can get the hell out. I don't know why I hooked back up with you again, anyway... cripple-boy."

The old schoolyard taunt cut like an ax, slicing through Rick and leaving him bloodied and empty. He turned and looked at the barn floor. He could leave, but what was there for him in the rest of the world now, anyway? He thought of Benny and Freddie, and felt sure Sebastian wouldn't let him go very far. He thought about what Sebastian had said about Snake, how he'd catch up to him later. One against seven wasn't very good odds, even when you were a shapeshifter. Besides, he was in too deep, there'd be no help from the human world who were likely hunting them all as suspects even now. Sebastian was the only person he'd every really connected with on any level. It was Sebastian that had healed him, made him whole. If Sebastian wanted him gone, or dead, what else was there?

"So, what's it gonna be?" Sebastian demanded.

Rick hung his head and mumbled, "I'll stay with you." he said, but his mind was already thinking about ways out.

"What was that? I don't think me and my boys heard you?" Sebastian gloated.

Rick raised his head. "I said, please let me stay with you... you guys."

"Yeah, that's what I thought!" he crowed "Get your ass busy, we got company comin'."

With no real place to turn, Rick silently made up his mind. He shoved a bale of hay against the barn wall, hiding a slab of plastique. He wanted to appear to be busy enough so that it looked like he had fallen back in line.

'Aw, hell,' he thought to himself. He turned, looking over his shoulder as the others scurried about, unclear on which way to go, but sick with staying where he was, sick of the killing. He walked out of the barn, looking as if he was getting a tool or checking on something. He moved slowly, then began to walk more rapidly, a resolve forming in his mind. If the humans couldn't help him, perhaps his own kind would. He grabbed his bike and started pushing it towards the clearing. If he hurried, he might be able to reach them before any more blood was spilled.

Some distance off, Snake watched the barn from the safety of the trees. He'd wait a while longer, hoping to see Kyle come out of the barn. Maybe he'd get his attention and get him into the woods for a talk and a little afternoon delight. He might even decide to cut loose from that group and hook up with the Snake tonight. That could be sweet. But then he heard the gunshot and although he didn't know who had fired a gun, he suspected it was Sebastian. When Sebastian came running across the clearing, he was sure he was right. He melted back into the trees and started working his way back to his bike, intent on taking the road leading away from all this. He waited just a while longer, hoping. Then he'd seen someone come out of the barn, at first mistaking Rick for Kyle. He stopped to look more carefully.

Snake watched Rick move off at a trot, pushing his bike as he went. 'Damn but that fucker must be strong to move that kind of metal that fast.' Snake thought. It was just spitting rain now, but it was likely to get a lot wetter. Earlier, he had been fully intent on leaving the barn and its occupants behind forever. He wanted no part of Sebastian's plan, whatever it was; but he'd circled back. He just couldn't get Kyle off his mind. He was sure if he could get Kyle by himself, Kyle would break away and leave with him.

Snake's cock was hard at the thought of some more of Kyle's sweet ass. Last night had been good and not just because it had been a long time. It had been primal, intense and rough, but tender too and that boy had the furriest butt he'd ever had the pleasure of pumping; and man, did he ever know how to milk a cock dry! He rubbed his crotch and felt the wet spot that had soaked through his jeans.

His own ass still tingled from the vigorous fucking it had received in return from Kyle. 'That little fucker might not be as long as me, but damn! His prong was thick and boy, he could pump it out!' Snake thought to himself, remembering how his ass hole had been stretched almost to injury by the thick stubby meat of the younger biker and how full his guts felt after.

Inside, Sebastian had climbed up the ladder to the hay loft and went to the cracks in the wood siding, looking out to see if he could spot the other weres or their vehicles. As he watched, images of his life with Steve flickered in his head distracting him and causing him to ignore the brief glimpse he had of Rick pushing his bike away from the barn. He wanted a drink, badly. Most days, getting drunk was the only way to shut off the voice and shut out the images in his brain. He shook his head hard and tried to focus his eyes on the road through the rain that was just starting to fall. Down below, Trey and Jack were going at it again.

"Here, fuckwad! Give it to me, you'll screw it all up that way." Trey said, reaching for the wires and detonator. "Can't you do anything without fucking it up? Give it!" Trey demanded.

"Like hell I will! I ain't stupid. Just back off, I know what I'm..." Trey lunged for Jack and the wires.

Several things happened at once. Sebastian, drawn by the sound of Trey and Jack's voices raised in anger, moved to the edge of the hay loft. Trey's lunge for Jack took his feet across a set of wires that connected a detonator that had just been placed in a slab of plastique, causing him to lose his balance. Jack's attempt to keep the wires away from Trey and in his possession caused him to turn partially away from Trey. As Trey crashed headlong into him, Jack fell forward, touching the bare ends of the detonator wires together, completing the circuit. The last thing Sebastian knew as the blast lifted him high through the loft's collapsing roof was Steve's face, looking at him, filled with sorrow and disappointment.

Working on the theory that 'more is always better', Sebastian's crew had placed far more plastique around the barn than would be necessary to blow it up. The amount used would have leveled a sizable apartment building. In rapid succession, the blast blew the above-ground wooden structure into thousands of unidentifiable fragments, mixed with the body parts of the seven biker bears. Bits of skin, meat and fragments of bone were blown outwards in a wide circle, wider by far than the crater made where the barn once stood. The concussion also imploded the generator's fuel tank, concealed in what had been made to look like a tumbled down tool shed in back of the barn. The vaporized diesel formed a cloud of flammable droplets that was ignited by the second blast caused by the detonation of the rest of the munitions still stored in boxes at the base of the open stairwell. The resulting fireball incinerated what was left of the building and much of the surrounding vegetation. The remains of the plastique in the underground bunker completed the devastation. As the blast echoes died away, the only sound was the hiss of burning wood being doused by the falling rain.

Stunned and literally blown off his feet by the concussive blast, Rick rolled on his back, gasping. He'd gotten a good distance up the road but even at this distance, the blast had knocked the air out of his lungs as it flattened him and his bike. He'd hit his head on the ground hard enough to knock him unconscious. Perhaps ten minutes later, he was awake. It was pouring like the clouds had opened up and were dumping buckets. Splinters of wood had gashed his skin but they were healing quickly, pushing out the slivers as they healed. Finally managing to sit partially upright Rick tried to get up. Dizziness returned and he slipped in the newly made mud and hit his head again, but he saw three wavering pinpoints of light in the distance before passing out.

Snake was blown off his feet by the same blast. Being further away from the barn than Rick was, he was mostly uninjured, just knocked out by the impact with the ground. The rain pelted him as he lost consciousness and not yet possessing the accelerated healing abilities of the others, he stayed knocked out for some time.

The pinpoints of light resolved themselves into flashlight beams, carried by the werebears.

"Boris, there's a crater back there big enough for a couple of trucks, and I don't mean SUVs," Moose said. The flashlights illuminated the wreckage of what had once been the barn and outbuildings scattered around them. Several trees had lost some or all of their limbs. Wood fragments littered the ground. "What the FUCK was that?"

Boris shook his head. "I have no idea. It had to be an explosion, but of what? If it was the rogues, where'd they get enough explosives to make a bang like that? They certainly couldn't have carried them on their bikes."

Walt, Larry, and Mitch joined the group. They had lagged somewhat behind Boris' and had seen and heard the explosion from the highway. "What the hell happened here? It looks like a meteor hit." Walt was shining his flashlight over the area. He nearly tripped over a set of handlebars. "Oh, hell. It looks like those guys got caught in it." His light shone over more bits and pieces of motorcycle. Suddenly, a low moan caused them all to turn and look.

"Isn't that one of them?" Rusty asked, moving toward the man who was lying on the ground a ways ahead of them. The rest followed him.

Mitch knelt beside Rick. "Get some light over here." He peered closely at the barely conscious man. "Can you talk? No, don't move. Lay still. What..."

Rick shook his head and raised himself up on one elbow. "I'm OK, just... winded. I hit my head, but nothing's broke. I'm OK." He started to rise, then fell back. Moose put out his hand and helped the still-dazed man to his feet.

"What happened here?" Boris asked. The other had formed a circle around Rick. They silently waited for him to answer.

Rick swallowed and looked around him. The now driving rain, which had kept the explosion and subsequent fireball from igniting an uncontrollable fire, had soaked everything. He began to shiver. He looked at Boris, and asked if they could get under some kind of shelter.

"In a minute. First, you tell us what happened here. Where are your buddies? And where's Vic?" the big bear said over the sound of the rain. "We followed your leader's directions and pulled off the road back there. Vic thought it would be a good idea if some of us scouted ahead, just to be on the safe side. René and Robert came back, but where's Vic?" The tightness in Boris' voice betrayed his concern.

"I don't know about your friend. I'm not even really sure just what happened back there, but I can guess. Sebastian was setting a trap for you. He intended to get you into the barn to talk things over, and then, I'm not sure how, get out and blow the place, with you in it."

"That was a mighty big explosion. There ain't nothin' left of the barn back there," Larry said, glaring at Rick.

The captive's breathing was still ragged and steaming in the cold, but he looked a bit less damaged as the blood came back to his face. He'd stopped shivering as his were metabolism began to warm him. "It wasn't just a barn," Rick said.

"What do you mean?" Rusty asked.

"I don't know exactly what the place was, but it looked like a survivalist hide out or storage depot... at least, that's what Sebastian thought. There were rooms under the barn, food supplies and a generator, and medical supplies. Guns and ammo; lots of ammo and plastic explosives... that putty-like stuff. Trey and the rest were putting it all around the barn while Sebastian went out to see if you guys were coming. When he came back; him and me argued." He paused and looked around, catching the eyes of some of the bears. "You gotta believe me. I hated all the killing. I didn't want any part of murdering any more, certainly not more of our kind. So I left. I got out, took my bike with me. Something must have happened and set off the explosives." Rick pointed at the bike lying not to far from him on it's side, "I was going to see if I could find you, warn you. Then it felt like I was flying, and then I hit the ground." He stopped.

"Well, that's as may be. Could just as easily be that you're here as a decoy or distraction, keep us busy while your buddies are just waiting to pick us off." Robert was looking daggers at Rick, his paws just itching to get themselves around Rick's throat.

"Um... I don't think so." Moose said from a little ways off. He pointed to a severed arm and the badly-damaged head of a man. The arm at least looked like it belonged to Sebastian; it was still wearing the sleeve of the jacket Sebastian had had on when they had met in the park. A more careful inspection revealed more body parts.

Rick gave a quiet moan when he heard the news. He looked down.

"Don't waste tears on that one." René said.

"You didn't know him." Rick said quietly.

"Perhaps not. But he wanted to kill us, would have killed us, but for the grace of the good God. So do not weep for him." René, usually the pacifist, was grim-faced and tense as he spoke.

Boris turned to the others. "There is more to this, I think. Moose, you and your mate take this, this, would-be murdering son of a bitch to the car. There's some rope in the back of mine. Tie him up and watch him. We'll scout around here, see if we can find any more survivors... and where the Hell is Vic?"

"I'm here," growled a deep voice. Vic stumbled out of the shadows, looking like the victim of a particularly nasty ax murder, covered in sticky red blood the rain had not yet completely washed from him.

"Jeez, man, what happened to you?" Larry said. Both Walt and Mitch immediately went to Vic.

"Oh, that young fool tried to shoot me." Vic put a paw to his skull. "But his aim leaves something to be desired... also, his knowledge of his were senses. Bled like a stuck pig, though. Easy boys! You'll get all bloody." Vic nevertheless hugged his cubs fiercely. "S'OK, no lasting damage," the big bear muttered softly to Walt and Mitch, then turned to the others.

What did you guys do here? That kid took off after he shot me. I kept still for a bit until I was sure the wound was good and closed. I started to follow him, keeping in the trees as much as possible Took me a while, but then BANG! I get knocked flat again. Big-assed explosion." Vic grinned. "I was too old for this shit a hundred years ago!"

Relieved laughter echoed around. "Vic, why don't you go with Moose and Rusty and take this guy and his bike back to the car. Sit down there and take a rest out of the rain for a bit. We'll take a look around here." Boris motioned for the other to fan out and begin a search. Moose and Rusty herded Rick ahead of them, while Vic followed, peppering them with questions.

Once back at Boris's vehicle, they examined Vic's head. The deep gash caused by the bullet was nearly healed, fresh pink skin formed a thick rope that followed the track of the bullet that had nearly taken his life. In time, the scar would fade. It would take longer for the hair to grow back.

"Hey, easy, boys... that damn well hurts!" Vic winced as Rusty gently probed the area. "Don't fuss, I'm OK. I'm more interested in who this guy is and what happened."

Moose filled him in on what details they knew, with Rick adding a few extra details and once again protesting his innocence.

"You shut the hell up!" Moose barked at one point, snarling at Rick.

"No, let him speak." Vic looked at Rick speculatively. "Somehow, I think he might be telling the truth... at least mostly." He pulled Moose aside and away from the vehicle and spoke softly. Rusty followed. "Remember, he was the one who looked uncomfortable with Sebastian's attitude when we met with them and I caught something else from him then, too."

"Guilt, probably." Moose said.

"No. Remorse... or regret," Rusty corrected. "He didn't 'feel' like the others to me."

"Ya think?" Moose was plainly still unconvinced. "Well, maybe. But I don't like it and if those others are still out there..." He left the rest unsaid.

"Here's the rope. Tie him up." Vic tossed the rope to Moose, who tied Rick's hands behind his back and then trussed his feet for good measure. They all sat, watching each other. Rusty absent-mindedly massaged Moose's shoulders while they watched and waited, rubbing the same spot over and over.

"You've done that spot, lover. Try the other side."

"OK," Rusty said and continued kneading Moose's left shoulder, looking off in the distance.

Moose sighed. Rusty was obviously distracted. Soon, the noise of the other bears became noticeable as they worked their way back to the cars.

"Anything else?" Vic asked.

"Nothing. At least, nothing we could find," René said.

"Well, there ain't much left to find," Larry said.

"Not so fast. Look what we found over by that ridge of trees." Boris and Robert walked into the group, pushing a lightly scratched but otherwise intact Snake ahead of them. Snake's hands were tied behind his back with his belt, and he was struggling to walk and keep his pants up at the same time.

"TWO survivors?" Vic said. He turned to Rick. "Did you know about this?" Rick shook his head, still a bit dazed.

"You think there could be more out there?" Rusty asked, plainly worried.

"Well, I can't be positive, but I just don't see how anyone or anything else could have survived that explosion. It's a miracle these two did. What bodies we found were literally blown to pieces. We found some parts of heads, but there's no way we can tell which parts belong together. There just isn't enough. Larry found bits and pieces of at lest five different bikes, probably more; but it's the same problem; just not enough left to piece together."

Boris rubbed his beard. "Judging by where we found him," pointing at Rick, "and the fact he wasn't all that badly injured, I'd say that part of his story at least checks out. That had to be one huge pile of explosives. If there was an accident, and this one left before that, he could have survived. But the others, if they were anywhere in that blast radius; well, even our kind wouldn't survive that. Boris looked back towards the devastated clearing. "I think we can assume that, except for Rick and this one here, they're all dead."

"So... what's your story?" Boris prodded Snake with the butt of his flashlight. Snake began to tell the group of how he'd fallen in with the rogues. The rain began to fall heavily again.

Later, the bears were quiet as they made their ways back to the other vehicles. Hardly any words were spoken. Each was shaken, not only because of the gruesome deaths of the rogues, but also their own close brush with death. Weres often lost their old human habits of worrying about death and thinking of their own mortality. Some even grew careless of their own safety. But something like this brought it home to them in a forceful way.

"Could we have somehow survived that?" Rusty asked as he opened the car door, breaking the silence. He was still unsure of the extent of were powers of healing. Moose watched Rick intently, as the others moved to their vehicles.

Vic chewed on an unlit cigar, "Don't be foolish," Vic muttered. "there wouldn't have been enough of us left to bury."

The rain had once again tapered off, it was full dark now. The storm clouds were blowing away, leaving a clear, starry and moonlit sky behind.

"And now, I fear we have much work to do, and not very much time to do it in." Boris said. "We can leave no traces behind. Any body parts, even scraps of skin or fragments of bone could yield DNA evidence. They would most certainly be analyzed. And the anomalies would betray our existence. Vic, do you feel like walking?"

Vic nodded.

"Good. I suggest we form a line and walk across clearing, through the barn area, and into the trees on that side. Keep a set distance apart, and do not miss anything. Any remains, no matter how small, must be collected. Robert, there is a roll of trash bags in the boot. Will you get it?" Robert nodded and fetched the plastic. He unrolled a bag for each of them, stopping at Rick and Snake, looking a silent question towards Boris.

"I think we must use them, too. We haven't much time. Someone will have heard the explosion and will come to investigate by morning I'm sure." Boris said. Robert handed them a bag each as well, while Walt untied them.

"I don't know about this," Moose said. "We're pretty remote here, you really think someone will come? I say, keep 'em tied up. We can do the job ourselves, just slower." Larry nodded in agreement, but Vic disagreed.

"We may be remote, but someone is bound to come to investigate. I don't think that everyone will have mistaken that blast for thunder. We can't leave any clues for them and we need the two extra sets of eyes and hands to have a hope of covering all this ground in time. I say, put 'em to work." Vic shifted the unlit cigar in his mouth.

Moose shrugged his heavy shoulders. "OK, if you say so."

It was a huge task, one made all the more urgent by the waning of the moon and the faint light showing in the eastern sky. Day was not that far off and daylight meant the possibility of investigators. All but Snake had were-enhanced sight and smell and that saving grace made the job possible. Not long after sun up, the grisly task was done. Another rain was moving in as they finished, likely as heavy as the last if the report on the radio was accurate, and that was a blessing as foot prints and tire tracks would be washed into the soil. The bags filled with remains were stuffed into the vehicles.

Walt and Vic took Snake and Rick's bikes, respectively. Walt topped off Snake's tank from the fuel cans in the back of the truck. Snake objected but there wasn't much he could do. Rick was numb to everything and just accepted the situation.

"We will bury these remains deep in the earth, far from here." Boris sighed. "The border is not far and I know of a an old abandoned mine that would be perfect for our needs. Luckily, there are many places where we can cross unobserved." He was silent for a while. "Such a waste." he sighed again, shaking his head.

Chapter 11

Rusty sighed. "Well, that's over, at least. Can we head back now, Boris?"

"Hardly. You are forgetting that a mess has been left for us."

Rusty smacked his forehead. "I forgot! The farm!"

Moose groaned and looked at Boris. "Damn me, another garbage detail. Well, I vote we make these guys do most of the work this time," he said, gesturing to Snake and Rick. Snake started to protest, but Larry cut him off.

"If he's tellin' the truth... IF he is, mind you, he didn't have nuthin' to do with what happened back there. An' I don't think it's all that wise to let a stranger in on, well, you know..." Larry's voice trailed off, but he looked directly into Boris' eyes.

"My friend, I think it is too late for that." Boris's voice was sad.

"Too late? What the Hell you mean, 'too late'?" Larry was about to argue, but Boris motioned for quiet.

"You are forgetting what the young man said when he was telling us his story. He was waiting for Kyle, hoping for the chance of some, what did you call it, 'afternoon delight'?" He looked at Snake, who blushed and nodded. "He implied that he had had sex with one of our departed cousins the night before. That is what you meant, correct?" Once again, Snake nodded.

"Aw, shit! You mean you didn't just fuck him, you got fucked, too?" Larry was appalled.

"Yeah, so? What's it to you? You're all are queer, ain'tcha?" Snake said defensively. The other bear's faces showed various shades of puzzlement, anger and frustration.

"Well, there is one way to check," Boris said, reaching for the still-tied Snake. Snake shied away apprehensively. Both he and Rick had had their hands re-tied once they had finished helping with the clean up in the area surrounding the barn. Snake raised his hands in a defensive gesture.

"No, young one, I mean you no harm. This will seem odd but it is necessary. I need to smell you. Then I promise, I will explain this to you."

"What kind of weird ass shit is this?" Snake was clearly nervous and unconvinced. He attempted to shy away again, but Larry had ahold of one arm and forcefully moved Snake closer to Boris.

"Just shut up and stand still." Larry growled.

Boris said softly, "Trust me, this is... necessary. May I?" The big bear calmly waited. Snake considered; the man who apparently held all the cards was politely waiting for his permission. It was a kind of respect he wasn't used to being given unasked. He silently nodded.

Boris sniffed carefully at Snake, his nose taking in the myriad scents that the man gave off. His werebear senses were at their sharpest when processing scents. Like their ursine relatives, werebears ' sense of smell was exquisitely sensitive, far more acute than any human's and superior to any animal's. He snuffled at Snake's hand and lingered at the nape of his neck. Snake squirmed, but Larry put a heavy paw on his shoulder. Snake stilled and Boris finished his inspection with a prolonged sniffing of his head. He straightened, looked at the other bears and nodded.

"It is faint, but there is no mistaking it, were, mingled with human. He will change." Vic gave Boris a concerned look as if to ask a question and Boris almost reading his mind continued. "Luckily, he is kindred and that's a blessing, it will make all this easier for him; but yes, he will become as we."

"Will someone tell me what the fuck is goin' on here?" Snake demanded. "Now? In English?"

"I will." Boris rumbled. "Untie him, please." Larry did so, with obvious reluctance.

Boris sighed deeply. "My friend, listen carefully to me..." For the next ten minutes, Boris explained to Snake what was going to happen to him, beginning with the moment of sexual pleasure that began the inexorable change that was even now working in his body. He concluded the short course in the werebear facts of life by stripping and demonstrating his shape shifting ability. To anyone in a receptive frame of mind, Boris's performance would have been awe-inspiring. Boris was without a doubt an impressive bear in full form. Snake was, however, not in a receptive frame of mind. He watched, ashen-faced, struggling to keep from bolting in screaming terror. It was a measure of his grit that he did not run or scream.

Boris slowly changed back and rested a paw on Snake's shoulder. "I'm sorry you had no choice in this. That is not our way," he said softly.

Snake was so stunned he didn't even flinch but he finally found words for his churning emotions.

"What am I gonna do? Can't we do something? Can't it be stopped? What the hell am I gonna do?" He glared at the bears. There was no answer from any of them.

"This is one fucked-up social disease, you know that?" Snake said still trying desperately to disbelieve, hoping to awaken from this nightmare.

Boris bristled at that. "We don't see it as a disease, any more than you would see being left-handed as a deformity," he snapped. "This is the way we are. It is as natural to us as your form is to you." Edging back from his anger, he calmed himself and continued. "I know this is a huge amount to take in all at once and believe me, I would spare you this if it were at all possible; but it isn't. I know you have been changed without your knowledge or consent. Kyle should never have had unprotected sex with you, but perhaps he didn't know, didn't understand what would happen. On the other hand, perhaps he did; we can never know now. I seriously doubt that Sebastian was very diligent in his duties as a daddy bear." Boris began putting his clothes back on, Robert handing them to him as needed.

Vic stepped forward and placed a paw on Snakes shoulder. "What's done is done and you have to deal with it. But we will be here to help you get your head around it so you can move on. It won't be easy, but you're family now and family sticks together. This other guy, Rick here, says you weren't involved and Rusty says he senses that you're tellin' us straight; so we don't blame you." Vic looked up at Boris. "Maybe we should leave Snake here, one of us could stay with him. There's no need to involve him at the farm, is there? We could pick him up on the way back." He looked at Snake, then back at Boris. "He's just had quite a shock."

Robert spoke. "I disagree, Vic. True, he may not have been involved with the rogues and what they did, but this will be his life from now on. He needs to see the consequences and more important, know why we were ready to take the action we were forced into... or would have been forced into." He looked at Boris. Boris nodded slowly, along with René.

"So, Vic... will you go along with this?"

Before answering, Vic turned to his cub. Walt in turn looked at Mitch. Both nodded and Vic turned back to Boris.

"OK. I can see where it might be useful for him to understand what these guys were up to. He also needs to see why it's important to clean up thoroughly when messes are made. He should know what he's getting in for and why we're doing what we're doing." He paused. "I agree."

"Good. Then let's get moving. I want Rick and Robert leading, they know the way best. Larry, I'd like you to ride with Snake. You can fill him in on some of the finer points of werebear life." Boris had a slight smile at the sides of his mouth.

"Huh? Why me? I still don't trust thi..." Boris cut Larry off.

"Let's just say I think it might be a good idea for Snake to hear about all this from another southern boy. Humor me." Boris's voice carried just the slightest edge to it in spite of the smile.

"OK, but I ain't gonna like it, no sir." Larry grumped and herded Snake to one of the vehicles.

It was frustrating having to keep to the speed limit, but Robert was adamant about not risking any unwanted police attention. The sun was well up when they reached the farm. It had the same abandoned air it had, had on their previous visit. The barnyard cat watched them cooly from the porch and only bristled and hissed when they approached the stairs. It bolted off into the grass and slunk under the house.

The clean up efforts centered on getting the two bodies out of the dry well. Fortunately, the winch on the front of Mitch's new truck was sturdy enough to raise the broken bits of concrete and wood beam that had been tumbled down to cover them. Snake, as the thinnest of them, had been pressed into service, lowered down the shaft to loop the cable around the items so they could be raised. Once that was done, there was more room to raise the bodies. Snake was hauled up and Vic lowered to complete the job.

"I guess we should be grateful to Sebastian's crew for having done a good job of wrapping the bodies. No blood that I can see." Vic was peering intently at the bodies as he tied the ropes around them and they were raised.

"Poor guy. Wonder if lived here all his life?" Moose held his nose as he wrapped the farmer's bloated body in extra plastic with Rusty's help.

"I wish we could give him a proper burial. He didn't deserve what happened to him." Rusty said.

"Well, a lot of people who die don't deserve to... but at least his killers won't kill again. That's some justice." Mitch helped heave the body into Boris's Suburban, then returned for the rogue's corpse. The others were carefully brushing away tire tracks and foot prints with a downed tree branch and some sacking from the barn.

By the time the well had been restored to its previous dilapidated state, Larry had exited the house with René. "All done! I gotta piece of bread in the toaster and set so's it will catch the curtain afire in the kitchen. I opened the window so's it'll look like the breeze blew it too close and it caught over the toaster. That place has gotta be over a huner'd years old. All that wood's gotta be drier than a bleached bone in west Texas. Won't take much and the old wiring looks pretty iffy as it is. I rigged it so's some of it will short in several places, too. Won't be noticed and it'll help spread the fire along. Let's git!" Wisps of smoke were already beginning to waft from the kitchen window.

Within minutes, with the last of the tire tracks swept away, all three vehicles and the two bikes were back on the highway heading north once again. Behind them, the first dark smoke was rising from behind the low hill that concealed the farmhouse and barn from the road.

The highway took them past the old grain silo and the track leading back to the now demolished barn one last time. There was no evidence of police activity yet as they sped by. Rick looked out the window at the site.

Robert spoke softly to him. "Let it go. It's over now."

Rick just shook his head and looked down at his feet.

As the miles unrolled, the sun moved overhead. Robert, Rick, Boris and René were in the Suburban, with Larry, Snake and René in the Avalanche. Moose, Rusty and Mitch were behind them and Vic and Walt were on the hawgs bringing up the rear. There was little conversation in the three vehicles except for René and Larry filling in Snake's knowledge of werebears. Snake obviously still didn't entirely believe what was going to happen to him and René's patience was wearing thin with tiredness; but Larry, surprisingly, calmly answered Snake's incessant questions and explained and re-explained as often as necessary. René dozed, oblivious to the subtle change in Larry's demeanor. When he traded driving with René and finally nodded off, his bearded face bore a small smile.

"What now?" Moose asked as the vehicles turned off a highway in favor of a much narrower country road.

"We follow Boris. We cross the border someplace where we don't go through a border crossing station. We pack all the remains in that mine he knows about." Mitch's eyes were intent on the road and vehicles ahead. "I don't know exactly where we're heading, I'm just following along. Boris said he knew places where we could cross." His eyes flicked across to Rusty, who was falling asleep, resting against Moose's bulk. "I see our early warning system is shutting down."

Moose grinned. "Yeah, he's like that. Full awake, then snap, he's out. Tell the truth, I could use some sleep, too."

"I think we all could. We've been keyed up for days, it seems like, running on adrenaline and damn, but I'll be happy to get those bodies out of here. I just hope the stink doesn't stay."

"Yeah, I know what you mean, but it can't be helped. I'm gonna try to catch some sleep. If you get sleepy, poke me and I'll drive for a while," Moose said.

"I'd like to poke you," Mitch grinned tiredly, "but I'd probably fall asleep in you."

"Hey... worse ways to fall asleep!" Moose settled against the door frame and seat back and draped a heavy arm protectively across his sleeping partner's chest and belly.

Mitch focused on his driving and the hours and miles unwound. Boris lead them on a number of back roads and county highways, gradually heading westwards. At some point, they had crossed into Canada, but Mitch couldn't have said exactly where. Late in the afternoon, he led the small convoy off the road and onto a beaten dirt track that gradually got more and more rutted. The land was growing more mountainous, the vegetation sparse and covered with dust. Even in spring, it was a bleak and empty landscape.

The track finally gave out and Boris pulled up at the base of a gully between two hills, one larger than the other. The other pulled up next to him. Everyone piled out and stretched.

"Geez, I'm stiff and not in a good way, either," Robert said, arching his back and raising his arms above his head. His shirt rode up and he scratched the thicket of belly hair that was revealed.

"This way, I think." Boris said, walking off up the gully, intent on finding the entrance to the mine. In short order, he called softly to the others.

"Over here. Robert, can you bring the large torch? It's behind the front seat."

Soon all the bears were looking into the dark entrance to a long abandoned mine shaft. Twisted iron rails led into it and it was framed with decayed timbers. A few scraggly weeds grew at the opening and the dirt was undisturbed. A soft, short green furze of grass brought on by spring was untrampled. It was obvious that no one had been in the shaft for some time.

"OK. You need to back the vehicles here and unload everything, bodies first. Robert and I will go ahead and see that the way is clear. There is supposed to be a vertical shaft some ways in, so we must be careful. Go slow and step carefully. Vic, you and Mitch bring the torches from your vehicles... oh, sorry, Mitch, I mean... oh, I can't think... what is your word?" Boris's weariness was showing.

"Flashlight?"

"Yes, flashlights. Bring what you have, we'll need as much light as we can get."

Meanwhile, Robert had flicked on the Suburban's headlights. They shone into the mouth of the mine shaft, illuminating it for some yards in. Beyond was inky blackness. Boris and Robert entered, their lights scanning back and forth as the walked slowly.

Moose and Rusty hefted the body of the farmer, trudging into the mine following the beam of light from Vic who was walking beside them, lighting the way. The air grew more dank and musty as they walked

Rick and Larry carried Freddie's heavily wrapped remains, following the beam of light Walt provided.

"I can't see shit!" Larry grumbled.

"Here it is!" Boris called out as his light illuminated the plunging vertical shaft that has once been the glory hole of this mine. The broken rails led off to the right, following a branching tunnel that sloped downward at a shallow angle. Another tunnel led off to the left. An old wheel with a fragment of rope hung over the shaft.

By unspoken consent, they paused a moment and were quiet before letting the shrouded bodies slide over the edge of the shaft. A moment later, there were two distant splashes.

"I am sorry for the old man." Rick said.

"You should be." Boris replied.

"He shoulda had a funeral," Snake added, speaking for the first time since they had arrived at the mine.

"Well, if you believe in a soul, it has long since left the husk of the body we found. Our bodies all return to the earth in one way or another when our time here is over." Robert said quietly.

"We have no time to waste, gentlemen. Let's get the rest of the remains and commit them to the earth as well." Boris lead the group back out, carefully picking their way over fallen rocks and the twisted rails of the old ore cart track.

It took nearly an hour to unload all they had bagged from the blast site at the barn, but finally the vehicles were empty of bagged remains and motorcycle parts.

"Now comes the delicate part." Boris said.

"What?" René questioned, looking at the mine entrance.

"We need to carefully pull down some of those supports near the shaft so the area just above it collapses into the shaft. It is dangerous." Boris said, exercising his talent for understatement.

"You're kidding!" Mitch was incredulous. "You'll get us killed!"

"No, if we are careful, we should be OK. But it must be done, we want no one to be able to find anything we've buried here. Ever."

"Well, why not attach ropes to the beams and pull them out with the trucks." Mitch said.

"An excellent plan, my friend, but we do not have enough rope to reach," Boris said. "This is something we're going to have to do manually."

Carefully, the bears skirted around the vertical shaft and attached ropes to the aged beams supporting the roof overhead. "I knew I should have paid attention in ze mining school," René joked weakly as he carefully fed one end of a rope around a splintered base of one beam prop. Only Rusty thought it was funny, and even he didn't laugh much.

"OK, pull on those ropes, but slowly, mes amis." René said once he had returned, dusting himself off a bit. Moose and Boris grabbed the rope ends and Walt, Vic, Robert and Mitch grabbed ahold as well.

"Now! Easy... one, deux, three," René said, and the bears began pulling with a steady motion.

There were several loud creaks and a splintering sound as some of the wood moved, but mostly what they heard was the sound of rock crumbling and falling. The timbers were severely rotten and gave way with only a little encouragement from the ropes. The entire gallery beyond the glory hole collapsed, as did the ceiling directly above it. Thick clouds of dust billowed around them. As it settled, they could see that the glory hole was now filled with rubble to nearly half its height.

Coughing and choking, the bears stumbled their way back out the main tunnel. Now clear of the worst of the dust, they tuned to look.

"Well, that's one kind of tombstone, I guess." Larry said grimly.

The others turned away and slowly walked ahead. Moose, Rusty and Boris brought up the rear. Boris's flashlight was growing dim. The damp air was thick with dust and a faintly rank odor. There was another light rumble from behind them as more gravel and rock trickled into the pit. Moose moved his light overhead and then along the walls of the tunnel briefly, then returned the light to the floor

"We've done a good day's work, I think." Boris's voice betrayed his deep tiredness. Up ahead, the light from the Suburban's headlights glowed faintly as they neared the entrance.

"LOOK OUT!" Moose bellowed, diving and shoving Rusty hard. Rusty shot forward and down, safely out of the way. Overhead, a rotted timber gave way, weakened by the fissures opened when the gallery around the glory hole had collapsed. Moose's lunge had knocked Rusty to safely out from under the beam as it cracked, then hung for a moment. Almost in slow motion, the beam gave way, with a good portion of the rock above coming with it. Moose twisted and pushed to his right, knocking Boris off balance and covering him with his body. The beam hit Moose squarely, pinning him on top of Boris. The fractured rocks fell and covered them both.

Rusty at first scrambled forward to get away from the falling rock, not fully realizing what had knocked him down, but then he turned and with a loud cry of anguish lunged back toward the heap of rock covering Moose. Ignoring the ominous creaking of rotted timbers around him, he scrabbled furiously at the rocks, tearing at them.

René and Vic ran back into the tunnel. Vic tried to drag Rusty back to safety, but Rusty, already half changed, shoved him away.

"NO!" be bellowed, clawing frantically again at the rubble. Vic staggered back.

René ran forward, shifting to half-form for greater strength and began to help clear the rock and in a moment, Vic followed suit. The rest of the bears by this time had run into the tunnel as well, their flashlights adding to the light from the headlights of the Suburban.

"Oh, god, oh god, oh god, oh god!" Rusty was crying over and over as he heaved rocks aside. Suddenly, the half-light revealed Moose's shirt. Redoubling his efforts, Rusty cleared the jagged rocks with his lacerated paws and revealed Moose's torn and bloody back. René and Vic cleared the smaller rocks covering his legs. There was a moan and a twitch and it appeared that Moose moved, but it was Boris under him who made the noise and movement.

"Boris, hold still for a moment, mon ami," René said. "We must clear the beam." He turned and looked at Vic. "Ready?" Vic nodded and gripped the piece of wood that covered Moose's head. They both lifted on the count of three. Rusty moved forward and reached his scratched and bleeding paws to Moose's dust-powdered face. His auburn beard was completely covered with grayish-brown dust, making him look like a statue that had been knocked down; marble-cold and still.

A deep sob welled up from Rusty's chest and broke as tears streamed down his furry face, making furrows in the dust that covered his fur and beard. As he caressed his lover's forehead, Moose's eyelids flickered and opened.

"Rusty? Are you OK?"

With a cry, Rusty practically threw himself on Moose's frame, hugging and sobbing, unable to speak. René and Vic gently raised him off Moose's body. "Careful, Rusty, his back. We need to move him carefully, Boris is under him and might be injured, too." They carefully raised Moose and shifted him so they could reach Boris.

Boris coughed and spat rock dust. "I think I am all right. I can move my legs now. My arms are OK. Help me up, if you would." He said.

Vic gripped one arm and René took the other and raised the big bear up so he could stand.

Rusty was tending to his lover, stroking and alternately holding his hand and brushing hair back from his face. Moose looked a bloody mess, dark patches of blood staining the rock dust and grit that covered him. Suddenly he heaved himself into a sitting position.

"Are you all right?" he stared intently at Rusty, who gulped and nodded, then went into a coughing fit, trying to clear the inhaled dust from his lungs.

"Never mind me, are you OK? Can you move your legs?" Rusty was anxiously feeling every part of Moose he could reach and touch.

Moose nodded and managed to stand up, still shaky and needing Rusty's shoulders to steady himself. It was apparent that his head alone was not stained with blood. The cuts and scrapes, all but the deepest ones, had stopped bleeding and were healing. A long deep gash on his back still seeped, but his head was only dusty, not bloody. The beam that had given way had fallen on him, but his head had been in the apex of the inverted 'V' shape the broken beam had formed, creating a space for his head and a support for the rocks as they fell. Moose's big body had sheltered and saved Boris's head from being crushed by the falling rock; a living shield.

Boris moved over to Moose and looked directly at him. "You saved my life." He hugged the bloody, dust-covered bear gently, wincing with pain as he did so.

There was more ominous creaking. "Let's get out of here... now." Vic said.

Rusty helped Moose limp out of the tunnel while Vic did the same for Boris. René led the way, holding a flashlight in each hand. The others followed behind. They had just reached the mouth of the tunnel when there was a loud rumble from deeper within the tunnel. A gust of fetid air was followed by a thick cloud of dust and grit.

"Move! Get away!" Larry shouted. One more loud crack sounded as the opening into the mine shaft collapsed, spilling debris at the mouth of the tunnel. Rick was knocked down by a large rock that rolled out, but otherwise, there were no more injuries.

Boris's face had been scratched badly but was rapidly healing. His right wrist appreared to have been broken when Moose fell on him, but otherwise, he was remarkably unharmed. His clothes were torn to shreds, as were Moose's. Rusty had found two more deep lacerations on Moose's left shoulder and right leg. Walt spoke quietly to him while the others were sorting themselves out and dusting off.

"If you lick the wounds, it will help them heal faster. They look pretty deep, but they should heal OK. Your Moose is one tough son of a bitch." He hugged Rusty. Still in half form, Rusty nodded and fell to work using his elongated ursine tongue to help heal his lover.

As pulse rates and breathing returned to normal, Vic looked around. "Now, this is my idea of a fun road trip!" There was moment of silence, then Larry started to giggle. René started to laugh and soon all the bears were laughing releasing the tension of the last days and minutes. Snake alone wasn't laughing. He was closely watching Moose and Rusty, eyes intent. They widened as he watched the edges of the deep cuts on Moose's shoulder and back gradually close as thick scar tissue formed to knit them together. He watched Rusty change to his human shape. He looked around and indeed all the bears that had changed to rescue Moose and Boris had regained their human appearance.

"Shit. You weren't kidding, were you? About the injuries and the healing up." Snake had gotten very quiet.

"Werebear's natural processes are all accelerated. As long as the injuries aren't catastrophic or the head severely damaged, we can heal remarkably well." Robert said.

"And I'll be like that?" Snake asked quietly.

Robert nodded.

"Coulda used that in Desert Storm a couple a times." Snake muttered.

"And reveal to your buddies just what kind of soldier you were? Being a bear has its advantages, but it isn't always as easy as it seems." Robert's face was friendly, but his tone was serious. "Being a bear imposes some, ah, unique restrictions.

"I was pretty good at hiding things in the service." Snake said

"Some things are easier to hide than others," Robert said. "Your body will heal whether anyone is watching or not. You can't control that. If you were unconscious and a medic was tending to you..."

Snake nodded and turned back to watching Moose, but his face was more thoughtful now.

Meanwhile, Boris was trying to flex his broken wrist and failing. The grind of bone on bone could be clearly heard. Moose hugged Rusty. "Hold off a minute, OK?" He walked over to Boris, still a bit wobbly on his feet but feeling much better.

"Boris, let me look at that. Don't move it, just hold still." Boris looked at Moose, who answered the unasked question.

"I'm a physical therapist, not a doc, but I've set bones and relocated shoulders and done a lot with sports injuries, too. Here, let me feel." Moose moved his large hairy paws over Boris thick wrist. It appeared to be still swollen and was lumpy as well. Moose looked intently at the wrist and felt carefully. His thick, blunt fingers were surprisingly gentle. Boris's face was impassive, but his eyes narrowed with pain.

"Uh-huh. Hmmmm.... Vic. Hold his forearm and don't let it move. Rusty, take his hand and fingers, hold them tight. When I tell you, pull. Steady, not a jerk. Don't let go until I tell you." He looked up at Boris. "I'm going to press when Rusty's pulls. The trapezoid and capitate carpals are pushed up and out of place, but not broken. I'm going to press them back into position." He paused. "It'll hurt." Boris nodded.

"Ready?" Boris, Vic and Rusty all nodded. "Go."

Rusty pulled, Moose pressed and twisted, Vic grunted and Boris yelped.

"OK, you can let go." Moose stood back, while Vic let go of Boris's arm and Rusty released his hand. "Try moving it now."

Boris gently flexed his hand and wrist. It hurt like fire, but there was no more grinding noise and the joint moved freely. Boris grinned and gave Moose a one-armed hug. Moose hugged back.

Boris looked at Moose and Rusty, still covered with dust and blood. "I was right about you two. You have both come in very handy on this little adventure. I was right to listen to my gut." He patted his belly. "Always listen to your gut."

Once they had changed to more presentable clothes, Vic asked Boris, "Is there a town anywhere near this god-forsaken place?"

"About a half an hour's drive from here, I believe. I fear there won't be a Hilton there."

"I don't care what kinda flea-bag joint it's got, as long as it's got a shower." Larry growled. The others nodded agreement.

The three vehicles and the bikes carefully made their way back up the rutted track towards the road, leaving behind them the remains of eight bears and one old farmer, mingled together, deep down in the earth.

Overhead, the moon was just beginning to rise in the evening sky.

Chapter 12

The run back to Boris's house in British Columbia was uneventful, especially after the events of the past days. The release of nervous energy after the explosion and elimination of the rogues had affected each of the bears differently, but Boris's and Moose's near miss in the mine shaft had sobered them all. Each of the bears seemed to be eager for the trip to be over now and to be back in familiar surroundings. The two survivors of the blast were taking things rather differently. Snake was naturally anxious, still not knowing fully what to expect in the weeks ahead. Rick was very quiet and rarely spoke more a sentence or two at a time. Relieved now of worry about the rogues, the others were beginning to think once again about their normal lives and all the usual problems and interests that entailed. Moose and Rusty especially were concerned about how they would arrange their lives. They had been staying at Vic's place as Moose had his first change, then waiting for Rusty to have his. Boris's phone call had pulled all of them away and propelled them into the events of the past couple of weeks.

The Trans-Canada highway climbed steadily into the Rockies, but traffic was sparse, and the convoy of three bear-laden vehicles closely followed by two motorcycles made good time. At a pee and rest stop the next morning, Moose and Rusty were talking as they got out of the front of Boris's Suburban. Rusty had been driving to give Boris a chance to rest his wrist, which was still aching and tender from its dislocation. His snores could be heard from the back seat. Rick had finally fallen into a fitful, dream-disturbed sleep as well.

Moose kept insisting to Rusty that he was fine and fully recovered from being half buried alive the previous day, but Rusty wasn't buying it.

"Be a tourist. Rest up. Sit back and enjoy the scenery. Boris marked the map for me, so I'm good." He looked at Moose with concern in his eyes. "Take it easy. Sleep if you want. I'm fine, really."

Moose reached for Rusty and enveloped him in a bear hug. "Always worrying about me, ain'tcha?" He squeezed him again.

"You know I do."

Moose kissed his lover and looked him in the eye. "I love you, you worry-wart."

Rusty hugged Moose tightly. "You know, I've been thinking. We both look different enough that we should probably consider a move when we get back home. You can work anywhere, your skills are portable. A PT can find a job just about anywhere, and certainly you could open your own office if you wanted. This might be just the time to do that. My pension goes with me, at least for the next twenty, thirty years. When we have to move again before people notice we aren't aging, you can still be a PT somewhere else. But my pension won't go on forever. Maybe I should start thinking of something to do, you know, to sort of give me something to do in my next life."

Moose started to giggle.

"What? I'm being serious here." Rusty couldn't quite bring himself to glare at Moose, who's belly was now shaking with laughter.

"I just had this mental picture of chubby, hairy Celene Dion, standing on the prow of a ship, singing, 'My Pension Will Go On'" Moose flung his arms out and leaned forward. He ducked, but didn't quite avoid Rusty's well-aimed swat.

"THAT'S for ruining a perfectly good movie," Rusty said, grinning from ear to ear.

They climbed back in the SUV. Rusty folded the map and tucked it into the sun visor. "You know...."

"Uh-oh. I know that tone." Moose was still smiling at his mental image from Titanic. "You're planning something."

"Well, I like coffee, and you like coffee. What about a coffee shop? I mean a nice one. Comfy seats and a couch and some arm chairs, newspapers, live music some nights, maybe an open mic night sometimes. Fresh roasted beans, we could sell those, too." Rusty's eyes had a far away look.

"You just keep thinkin', Butch. That's what you're good at," Moose grinned.

"What's with all the movie quotes? You don't think it could work?"

Moose smiled at his lover. "No, Rusty, it's a good idea and Charbuck's needs competition. It would provide a good cover for you; for me, too, for that matter. And when we have to move on in twenty years or so, we could open another one someplace else. People have been drinking coffee for a long time, I don't see them stopping any time soon."

They continued their discussion as they drove westward. Boris quietly opened one eye and listened for a bit, then smiled and went back to sleep.

In the next vehicle, conversation had lagged. Robert was focused on the road when Snake broke the silence. Snake had been looking out the window at the scenery, but now looked over at Robert. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure... what's on your mind?"

"Well, you remember when Boris was, um, sniffing at me?" It was obvious that Snake still found that more than a little strange.

"Yeah."

"Well, he said something about me being 'kin'. Now, I know nearly all my family, and I know none of them are Canucks, and none of them have visited there... so how could I be 'kin'? And none of my people's got a name like Boris."

"Snake, when Boris said you were kin and that that would make things easier, he wasn't talking about blood relationships, at least not like non-weres would. What he meant was that you have a...," Robert searched for a word to describe what he was trying to get across. "You've got a genetic 'affinity' for weres. No, not exactly that, but... Look, when someone who isn't kin is changed, either with their knowledge or not, it usually goes very badly. The new were often goes mad. They simply can't take what the change does to them mentally. Their minds just can't cope. Most kill themselves, not always an easy task for a were. A few manage to hang on to a part of their sanity, but those often become dangerous, unstable, giving in to their animal side completely. They become savages, but savages with a human cunning and deviousness. They are the most dangerous of all, rogues. Some of the ones you fell in with may have been like that. Certainly Sebastian wasn't taking care to change only ones who were kin. Rick said something about Sebastian possibly killing one of his earlier 'recruits', likely because of that.

Snake pressed Robert further. "So what if you are 'kin'?"

"It means that your body will adapt more easily to the changes. Another werebear still needs to change you, but you are more predisposed to being one of us. It mostly means that your mind will accept what happens to you without losing sight of your humanity. It means you will have more control of your bear when he comes out. You will remain in control, the bear won't control you. Mind you, you will have to work at that control, it doesn't just happen. And the first change is painful and sometimes difficult. That's why its so important for the one who changed you to be with you, so you can learn from their experience."

Snake looked anxious. "But that won't happen with me, will it. I mean, he's... Kyle's dead, right?" Snake thought for a moment. "He probably wouldn't have known all that much about it, anyway, would he?"

"Most likely not, Snake. He was young, and had probably only just recently gone through his first changes himself. But don't worry too much. One of us will be with you. You know you're welcome to stay with us for a while, until you get your bearings." Robert waited for Snake to continue.

"It's strange. I'm scared by all of this, but I'm kinda looking forward to it, in a way. I've always liked big, thick, hairy guys. Being in a room with all you, naked... well, that's like every wet dream I ever had, all rolled into one." Snake paused, and his next thought came out almost as a whisper. "What if I lose it? What if I go nuts and eat people... or drink their blood?"

Robert laughed out loud at that. "Hell, man, you're mixing up your movie monsters! You don't think we're going to let you run rampant, do you? Pillage the countryside?" Robert stared straight into Snake's brown eyes. "We don't eat people, Snake. And bears stick together. We'll be there for you, don't worry. You'll be in good paws." He paused. "You'll do fine and none of us has ever run amok and devoured a village, even our first time changing." He smiled and put a heavy paw on Snake's thigh. For the first time in hours, Snake seemed to relax.

"Robert, have you ever... you know... changed someone?"

"Once, a long time ago; it didn't work out." Robert stared out the window. "Boris says the wise bear thinks three times before changing someone. Just because a person is kin doesn't mean he'll make a good bear. After all, Sebastian was kin and look what he did. He was a risk that Steve was willing to take for love. I know that if Steve knew what kind of trouble Sebastian would cause, he never would have changed him. I think it's a good idea to watch and wait, maybe for years before taking that step. Once it's done, it's done. There's no going back." He looked over at Snake.

"There, now I've gone and made you worried again." He patted Snake's thigh again. "You're a stable, responsible, disciplined man; you'll be fine. Still, being a bear isn't all fun and games, and that's the gods' honest truth. You just lived through an example of the not so nice part; but it isn't such a bad life, you know. There are compensations, some of them quite nice. Think about it... who else gets the chance to re-invent themselves every twenty or thirty years; change their lives pretty much how they want?"

René, who had been quietly listening, spoke up. "And continuous good health is nothing to sneeze at either, if you'll pardon ze, how you say, pun."

Snake smiled. "No more aches and pains, huh?"

"Exactement, mon ami. No colds, no flu. No cancer. No AIDS. No heart disease. No arthritis..."

"OK, OK!" You've sold me... where do I sign up?" Snake was grinning now.

Robert looked ahead out the windshield. "You already have."

They drove on in silence.

Later, stopping for fuel in the early afternoon, everyone was stretching. Vic bought some newspapers and handed one to Larry. They scanned them rapidly, searching for any news stories about bodies or mine shafts or mysterious explosions. They found nothing.

"We had the radio on news channels all morning in the truck," Mitch said. "No news."

"And in this case, no news is very much good news. I'd be more worried about that barn and the explosion than the mine, though," Vic said. Walt nodded.

"Well, nada 'bout either one," Larry said, folding up the paper and handing it back to Vic. "Looks like we dodged a bullet this time, boys!"

"This time, mon ami," René said soberly. "But what of the next?"

"Yeah... ," Larry said, more quietly.

The hours passed along with the miles, with the bears taking turns at the wheels. By nightfall, they had reached. Boris's place. The filthy vehicles pulled up, flanked by the mud-spattered motorcycles. A brief thunderstorm outside of Sicamous had turned the road dust to mud, streaking the SUV's and making them look like entrants in a cross country race. Everyone piled out, stretching and talking.

"Bozhe moi, I DO like road trips, but it's good to be home," Boris exulted, working the kinks out of his back. "Oh, leave the stuff, Robert. A good soak in the tub and then bed for all of us, I think." He was already moving up the steps to his house.

"I'm for that," Vic said. Vic, Robert and the rest followed Boris up the steps and into the house. Boris listened to the message machine and decided that nothing was life-threatening. Robert hurried downstairs to fire up the hot tub, and the others hit the bathrooms to relieve themselves and to shed clothes.

Rick and Snake stood in the large living room, looking somewhat lost. Each avoided the other's gaze. Boris held up a paw as he finished listening to the last message. Larry came back into the room, naked and drying his hands on a towel. Boris gestured towards Snake and Larry nodded.

"Come on, Snake, I'll show you where the can is."

Finished with the phone, Boris put an arm around Rick's shoulders. "Come with me and I will show you the downstairs. You can help me get the cover off the hot tub, and there is a bathroom down there as well." Rick gratefully followed Boris.

Having used the bathroom and helped with the cover, Rick was listening as Boris described the view out of the large sliding glass doors that opened on the deck.

"You can't see as much in the dark, of course, but in the daytime or with a full moon, the view is spectacular." Pine scent wafted in the open door. Rick stood and inhaled. Behind him, the others were coming down the stairs, naked bears intent on a relaxing soak in the large hot tub. Within moments, Vic, Walt, Rusty, Moose and Mitch were all settled in the tub, each sighing, eyes closed and reveling as the heat soaked into their tired bodies. Snake and Robert were the last down the stairs. Boris and Robert joined the others in the tub, and Rick, a bit reluctantly, joined them. Boris made room for him and patted him on the shoulder.

Robert stared as Snake and Larry approached the tub. "Damn, will you look at that thing? He's hung like a cart horse!" His eyes tracked from Snake's crotch down the length of his thigh, following the tube of man flesh that lolled against it.

"If that thing ever gets hard, there won't be room in here for the rest of us," Vic chuckled, looking up from the hot tub.

"I ain't pretty, but in some circles, I'm popular," Snake grinned. "My daddy used to say I'd been whupped with the ugly stick."

"Well, some kind of stick, that's for sure." Larry got in the tub and made room for Snake next to him. "You get longer when you get hard? Or thicker?"

"Well, mostly just hard. I do get a little longer, and the tip flares out some, too. Wanna see?"

"I think this is something that will take an up-close inspection. A prolonged, up-close inspection." Larry grinned back at Snake, his eyes crinkling at the corners with good humor and lust. "How about we postpone that inspection and soak up some heat first?"

"Sounds like a plan." Snake stepped into the tub, his cock floating up with the rising water until he sat fully down. René and Vic both gave appreciative looks at Snake's endowment. "NICE meat," they both said together, and then broke out laughing. Soon everyone was chuckling or giggling.

"We're all getting punchy," Mitch said, his arm over Walt's shoulder. Walt's paw was lazily stroking Mitch's leg, which was pressed tight against Vic's.

"We're all tired... more than we think." Boris yawned. "It has truly been an adventure." The talk continued in fits and starts, discussing the events of the past days, analysing characters, with Rick adding some details that were unknown to the others. Snake filled in a little about his family and personal history, but all the bears truly were tired, and it wasn't long before they were all stifling yawns. The periods of silence lengthened.

"I could stay here all night," Robert said, sighing, eyes closed.

"You would look like a prune. A winkled, furry prune," Boris said with a smile.

Robert opened one eye and gave Boris a look that said, 'Later for you!'

"Well, I am for bed," René said, looking directly at Vic. His foot was rubbing Vic's from across the tub. Vic looked at Walt and Mitch.

"Go, papa," Walt said, nudging the blond bear in the side. Mitch nodded, too. "Go."

Vic rose up, his cock at half staff in spite of his sleepiness. His lighter skin coloring meant that his thick cock was more pinkish in color, and even the tip that was just starting to peek out of its shrouding foreskin was lighter than the other bear's. "Come on, you French talking bastard. There's a big ol' bed up in that dorm room Boris added upstairs that should hold the two of us nicely. You can correct my French. I haven't used it for years."

The two ambled up the stairs, Vic talking about water lilies and gardens and cranky old painters.

Mitch and Walt looked at each other. "Time for us to hit the sack, too, I think," Walt said, fondling Mitch's nut sack. "Thought you were tired! Horny papa bear!" Mitch grinned back. They both got up and reached for towels to dry off with as they went upstairs to the room they had occupied when they first arrived. Moose and Rusty soon followed. It was evident that they had been stroking each other under the water. Both were hard and fully erect as they padded up the stairs. Rusty's reddish-blond fur contrasted nicely with Moose's much darker, auburn coloring.

"Horny bears... gotta love'em!" Robert poked Boris in the belly. "Time for bed, big guy."

Boris grunted and patted Robert's leg. "You are right, we should all get some rest." He heaved his bulk up and extended a hairy paw to Rick as Robert climbed out and reached for towels.

"Did Boris show you the bedrooms?" Robert asked. "No? No matter, just follow us."

"Um, I think I'll just hit the sack out on the couch," Rick said. He carefully placed the towel on the shelf after drying off. Robert quietly whispered in Boris's ear and the big bear nodded.

"Rick, you are of course welcome to sleep on your own if you prefer, but there is no need to sleep on the couch. There are several beds for you upstairs in the large guest dorm if you wish to use one. But Robert and I would be pleased if you spent the night with us." Boris looked at Rick, hoping the younger bear could overcome his reticence.

"I don't want to intrude, and, well, I kinda.... I mean I...." Rick's voice trailed off.

"Rick, there'll be no pressure, just you sleeping with two bears at your side, warm and comfy. Better to sleep with someone, don't you think?" Robert said. Both he and Boris felt that Rick needed security and support just now. "You can always head upstairs if you change your mind."

Rick hesitated, then nodded. He knew that Boris and Robert meant well, but he wasn't sure he was ready to let others into his life just yet. He followed the two to their bedroom. The large, fur-covered bed was in the center of one wall, lit by two low bedside lamps. The room was spacious without seeming huge. A partially open door to one side obviously led to a bathroom, and another pair probably to closets. A fireplace on the opposite wall completed the cozy room. Boris and Robert drew back the covers and Boris indicated that Rick should climb in. Then he and Robert joined him, settling in comfortably, each laying a paw on Rick's chest and belly. Rick at first felt as if he was being hemmed in, but then relaxed, feeling safe and protected by the two big bears, one on each side.

"Just relax now, Rick. There is plenty of time to sort things out, to come to terms and think about the future. For now, just let the worries go. The bad stuff is behind you now. You can let it go."

Rick said quietly, "But there was good stuff too."

"I know," Boris said and brushed Rick's beard with the back of his hand, "but good and bad, it is done now and we want you to know that you have a place here if you want it."

"Both of us agree on that." Robert said patting Rick's chest.

"I'll think about it." Rick said and stifled a yawn.

Boris's deep voice seemed to lull Rick's senses. The scent that rose from the bedcovers, or maybe from the two bears themselves, seemed warm and spicy, and reminded Rick somehow of baking and Christmas... pine trees and cider and cookies in the kitchen. The sense memory comforted Rick and helped him off to quiet, peaceful sleep, the first in a long time.

"Night," he mumbled as sleep overtook him. Robert and Boris smiled and cuddled close to the younger bear.

Back at the hot tub, Larry woke from a light doze and looked at Snake. "Hey, looks like it's just us good ol' boys."

"Yeah, the others all went off to bed, though I doubt if they're all sleepin'," Snake said with a smile.

Larry put a paw on Snake's cock and stroked softly. Snake nearly purred. "You minded to make use of that thing tonight?"

"You bet!" Snake was showing extreme interest in Larry's attentions, his cock rapidly becoming rigid. The tip broke the surface of the water, foreskin nearly retracted. Although he didn't know it, his libido was already adjusting to the changes that were beginning in his body. Larry bent in for a kiss, and Snake nuzzled the Texan's thick beard. The kiss turned into a prolonged tongue wrestling session. They broke, and each stood, their dicks and bellies pressed together, hugging and fondling each other.

"Well, call me soft, but I kinda like a bed under me when I'm doin' the nasty... wanna go upstairs and find us a bed in that dorm room Boris talked about?"

Snake nodded, and the two played grab ass on their way up the stairs. They crossed the dining and living rooms and passed the hall way leading to the main floor bedrooms and climbed the second stair case to the converted attic area. At the head of the stairs, they heard grunts and gasps from Vic and René. It was obvious in the dim light from the stairwell that the two had taken the first bed immediately across from the stairs, and were already far advanced in the typical werebear friendship rituals.

Both had shifted to half form and René was panting as Vic growled, "Oh, YEAH! Right there... that's the spot!" René's bulbous tip was rubbing up and over Vic's prostate on the in strokes, and the bottom of his cock compressed it on the way out. Thick, glistening ropes of pre-cum dripped from Vic's twitching cock. René made small in and out motions with his hips, stoking the gland repeatedly. "Oh, FUCK yeah!" Vic shivered.

"I am almost there, mon ami," René rumbled in a deeper than usual voice. Hunched over Vic's thick body, his arms were wrapped around the hairy bear's middle, his crotch pressing against Vic's furry ass. The dim light showed little detail, but the sounds conveyed a sense of urgency. "Zut alors, I shall cum!" René growled and drove his cock in hard. Both were oblivious to the others watching them.

Vic grunted and braced, while René hammered his ass and unloaded. The stubby tail at the base of René's spine twitched in time with his contractions. Vic could feel the heavy hot spurts of René's seed as he hunched against his butt.

"That is so hot!" Snake breathed, watching intently.

"Yeah, that Frenchman does a pretty good imitation of a top," Larry said quietly.

"No, I meant...um... their fur and... and their shape." He turned to Larry. "Will I be able to talk when I'm a bear? Will I look like that when I fuck?"

"Oh, they ain't bears yet, leastways not full bears. That's what we call half form. You can still hold things and open doors and such and talk. Easier to walk and pee in that form, too. Full bear form, well, you are a bear and yeah, I bet you'll look just as hawt when you're a bear."

"Fuckin' hot," Snake said again.

"Well, you'll be there soon enough," Larry said, giving Snake a squeeze. Snake's cock twitched..

Snake looked up at Larry. "How long, you know, how long until I... until..."

"Until you change? Well, let's see. You fucked with that rogue about a week ago, and it takes about four months, so you do the math." Larry paused. "Don't worry, we'll be with ya." Larry looked down at the still half-starved looking man. "In the mean time, we need to get some meat on those bones of yours and I know jus' where you kin git some high quality liquid protein," he said, with a wolfish grin.

Snake didn't say anything but walked to one of the beds further along the wall. As they walked by, Vic winked a large brown eye at the pair and grinned.

Larry laid down on the bed and pulled Snake along with him. Snake put out a hand and stroked Larry's thick meat. "Could you, you know, change while we have sex?"

"Best not, son; at least, not yet. You're not were yet and I'd be hard to take, even in half form. I'm not braggin' when I say that... I don't wanna hurt ya. This is good for now."

Snake nodded and attached himself to Larry's upright member and began to suck and tongue the thick flesh, lapping up the sweet pre-cum that flowed from it.

"Damn, you leak a lot!" Snake said, looking up from his task.

"Less talk, more action," Larry growled. Snake happily returned to his job. Within moments, Larry was bucking in Snake's mouth, moaning and writhing.

"Oh, man... I'm gonna... I cain't.....I......AAARRUGHHHH!!" Larry's hands gripped the bed as he shot volley after volley into Snake's waiting mouth. Snake swallowed as fast as he could, humming and growling and holding on to Larry's legs as he strove to keep up with the flood of bear seed. Larry's tanks finally emptied themselves and he stopped bucking. His breath rasped and his chest heaved. Snake nuzzled the now-flaccid cock and let Larry's thick bush help clean off the stray blobs of bear cum from his stubbled face.

"Keee-rist! WHERE did you learn to do that?" Larry asked.

Snake just smiled and flicked his tongue a few times rapidly.

"Hellfire, I jes' figgered you got your name from that piece of meat you're hung with, but I reckon it's because of somethin' a bit further north."

Snake grinned. "I ain't tellin'."

Larry chuckled and pulled Snake up close for a cuddle. After their heart rates had returned to normal, Larry reached down and began pulling at Snake's cock, playing with the foreskin and teasing its length.

"Now, I want that in me," Larry whispered. "Bet you're right good at tenderizing ass."

Snake nodded and asked, "How do you want it?" His meat was hardening rapidly, with a big drop of precum making the tip slippery.

"Well, I like it any way, but I'm kinda partial to 'classic bear'."

"You mean all fours?" Snake was on his knees now, his cock pointing straight out towards Larry.

"Shit, yeah." Larry gave Snake's meat a slurp and then scrambled into the classic position. Snake moved behind him, spat in his hand, and worked it into Larry's waiting hole. He slicked his own cock with a combination of Larry's saliva and his own, along with own his precum. He centered his rigid meat on Larry's hole and adjusted his stance a bit.

"You ready?"

"More than ready, buddy. Feed it to me."

Snake paused, "I know you can't be a bear when you're fuckin' me, but..."

"...But their ain't no reason I cain't be when you're pluggin' me, right?"

Snake slapped Larry's ass, "Get to it, you horny fucker."

Larry growled in a bit deeper voice than usual, "Way ahead of you, son!" Larry took very little time, and as he changed to half form, Snake rubbed this hands through the growing fur, bent forward and began rimming the bear's increasingly furry hole. Snake had the odd thought of bestiality, but pushed the thought aside as Larry growled out, "Fuck! Eat that hole! Make yer Daddy happy!"

Snake eagerly obliged, stroking the growing bear cock as he did so. After slicking the bear's hole and nibbling on the stubby fat tail (which was met with a string of appreciative obscenities) Snake reared up, positioned himself and pushed into Larry's ass. It resisted for a moment, then opened. Snake looked down and watched his tip disappear into Larry. He slowly pushed himself in, an inch at a time watching in awe as his cock was devoured by the furry ass in front of him. A deep rumbling sigh escaped Larry.

"Oh, man! That feels so fuckin' great! And damn me but you're a long one! If y'all grow any from yer change, yer gonna have a monster, even for a werebear!" Once he was all the way in, Snake paused and waited, savoring the heat of Larry's gut surrounding his cock. Larry wiggled his ass and pushed back, letting Snake know that all was well.

Snake began to stroke, pulling nearly all the way out with just his tip still in Larry, and then sliding back in to the hilt. He was in no rush and stroked in and out with a pace that ensured his cock rubbed Larry's nut for as long as possible without being too slow. He set up a steady fuck rhythm, but varied his angle up and down and side to side. Larry was an appreciative bottom, and worked his ass muscles to increase the friction Snake was feeling. Each was working to make the ride good for the other, and soon both were sweating and moaning with pleasure. Snake didn't jackhammer, he kept his steady pace which both teased his own cock, keeping it just on the brink of orgasm, and built anticipation in Larry's ass.

By the time Snake couldn't hold off any longer, Larry was nearly whimpering with his desire to be filled with Snake's cum. He pushed back hard twice onto Snake's cock, the second time matching Snake's final forward thrust and ejaculation. Both cried out and shook with passion as Snake pumped his life into Larry. Larry's cock shot in time with the twitch of his tail and he moaned, sharing the orgasm with his new buddy. The spasms continued, slowly becoming less frequent. Finally, then both sank down onto the damp sheets. Larry kicked out his legs and lay flat, with Snake laying on top of him, still deep inside.

Larry turned his head to the side so he could speak clearly. "Stay in me, boy... don't pull out."

Snake grunted and hugged the bear under him. "I ain't goin' nowhere."

They lay like that for a long time, Snake nuzzling in the fur on his partner's back, drinking in the musky ursine scent, a scent that made him feel oddly secure and happy. But eventually the pair had to break contact. Larry, still in half form pulled a sheet over them both. Snake lay face to face with the bear, kissed him on the muzzle and nuzzled down into his broad furry chest. Larry wrapped his arms around the younger man and they fell into a deep sleep.

During that sleep, Snake's changing body and mind continued the necessary preparations for his first change, even though that was still some time off. Kyle was, of course, Snake's papa, the bear who had made him; but Snake had never had the chance to bond with him, and now never would. But the newly-developing were mind required a 'sire' to bond with, a sort of arch-type to model on and look to for guidance and support during the first change. He needed to imprint on an elder bear. One of the bonding mechanisms, in fact the strongest of them, was smell. Unconsciously, Snake nuzzled and rooted for the smell of the bear with him. He slept most of the night with his nose buried in Larry's armpit, inhaling his scent and pheromones. Silently but efficiently, unnoticed by either Larry or Snake, neural pathways were formed in Snake's brain, connections and linkages that would provide Snake with the image and identity of the needed papa bear to bond with.

Those same processes were at work in Larry too. The constant scent of a changing Cub would activate them. He wouldn't realize it for weeks to come but he was going to change, too. Some weres did, and some didn't, when they became a Papa; but Larry was one of those that would. He would grow broader shoulders, a thicker neck, wider hands with thicker fingers, and be thicker from back to front and put on a bit more weight giving him a round belly to be perfectly framed by suspenders. He'd get a bit taller, his nose would become a bit larger and his chin a bit more pronounced. His balls would grow larger and hang in a longer sack and his beard and hair would gradually develop distinguished grey markings. His attitudes and mannerisms would change, too; mellowing out his sometimes combative personality. He'd take on some paternal mannerisms. He would settle comfortably into being Snake's Papa Bear.

Back downstairs, Moose and Rusty were in each other's arms, chest to chest and belly to belly. Their cocks lay against each other, warm and slick with their mingled precum. They both sighed together. Rusty pushed Moose over onto his back, and nuzzled the auburn fur of the bigger bear. He found a nipple and latched on, sucking hard and tonguing it, lapping and nipping. Moose writhed. Rusty spent a lot of time working over Moose's broad chest and then moved down to his thickly furred belly, finding the navel and tickling it with his tongue. Moose's rigid cock, fully extended now, tapped at Rusty's head.

Without speaking, Rusty rose up on his knees and put one leg over Moose's cock and crotch, but didn't straddle his ass over the straining pole. Instead, he lowered his own meat, now quite large, to rub against Moose's. His body was still smaller than Moose's, and always would be; but he was larger, thicker, and certainly hairier than he had ever been in his life. He was pleased with his new bear body, in both its human and bear shapes. His weight settled on Moose, who growled with pleasure. Rusty began to hunch Moose's gut.

"Oh, I fuckin' love it when you fuck my belly, man!" Moose growled again, and hugged his lover tight to increase the friction he was feeling against his own cock and tummy. Rusty continued his fucking motions, the precum from both of them slicking Moose's belly fur so Rusty's cut cock slid more and more easily through the thicket.

"You, too, fucker," Rusty growled, his voice surprisingly deep. Moose began to hump in time with Rusty.

Suddenly, Rusty began to change. His strawberry blond body hair thickened and covered the few bare areas of his skin, his arms and legs grew heavier. The fur was nearly white, but tinged with a orange hue. His ears shifted on his head and his face began to transform itself, creating the bear muzzle. His eyes turned a deep brown. His cock flattened somewhat, and the baculum formed within. With some effort, he arrested the change so that he was in half form, still able to talk and stroke his lover's beard with paws that still retained most of their human dexterity.

Moose eagerly changed as well. His earlier problems with changing had been overcome, and he managed it now with more smoothness, if not the speed of more experienced bears. Still, he was beginning to enjoy the change for the pleasure of it, not just the end result. He, too, halted the process before completion. His now nearly full ursine head turned slightly so he could focus his own chocolate brown eyes on Rusty.

"Gawd, I love being this way with you," his basso voice rumbled. "Wish we could stay like this all the time!" His claws raked down Rusty's back, leaving red furrows in his fur that rapidly healed. Rusty threw back his head and did his best to smile with his bear face. His eyes closed in pleasure, as he continued to hunch Moose's belly, their cocks straining against each other, slipping next to, then on top of, each other.

Rusty picked up the speed, his eyes lit with lust and love. "Fuck me, Norman." Rusty started to move up so Moose could drive his cock into his ass.

"Aww, too late!!" Moose grinned, then groaned and thrust up and forward hard against Rusty's balls, crotch and cock. He gripped Rusty's back tight and shuddered as he pumped out shot after shot of scalding hot seed, filling what slim space there was between their two forms. The slick cum coated their bellies.

"Feed me," Moose rasped; and Rusty raised up and moved forward, offering his slimed cock, the tip flared and extended from his bear sheath, to Moose. He was right on the edge, and when Moose's elongated bear tongue touched the underside of his shaft, Rusty quivered and began a volley of heavy spurts. Moose drew Rusty's meat into his muzzle, using his tongue to wrap around the tip and shaft, its moist warmth stimulating the pole so that Rusty bucked and shuddered. Moose made the suckling bear noise as he milked Rusty's cock.

The spurts reduced in volume and intensity, and finally Rusty pulled out and sank back down on top of Moose, his belly cemented to his lover's, his beard meshed with Moose's, face to face. His legs were on either side of Moose's hips. He kissed Moose, long and deep.

"Let's sleep like this."

"You mean stuck together?"

"No, doofus! Like this, in half form. I get off waking up next to a bear."

"You got it," Moose rumbled. They peeled themselves apart, and Moose and cuddled Rusty close to his chest.

Mitch and Walt were spooned, dozing. Mitch slowly surfaced as he felt Walt's hefty meat thickening and poking him in between his ass cheeks. Mitch smiled to himself and raised his leg, while hugging Walt's hairy forearm across his chest. Walt stirred and pushed forward, his cock searching for its home. Mitch let go of Walt's arm and reached back to help. He gently guided the solid tube of hot desire to its target. Feeling the wrinkled surface texture of his lover's pucker, Walt slowly pressed forward. He grunted heavily as his tip cleared Mitch's muscle ring.

"Gods, I've missed this. I'm so glad you can take me easily now," he whispered in Mitch's ear. He strained forward so his cock was nearly buried in Mitch's ass.

"Mmmmmmm... damn, you feel good, woofer," Mitch sighed. He hugged Walt's arm tight. "Slow and easy, OK?"

Walt nodded, and kept to an easy pace, using mostly his tip to stimulate Mitch's chute. He whispered in Mitch's ear all the while. "My cub. My hairy stud bear. My thick, horny bear of a man. My fucker. You feel so good to me. I love doing this with you. I love making love to you. You're my life. I fucking love giving you my seed. Oh, Mitch...," and his cum flowed into his lover, filling him as he hugged Mitch tight and pressed himself against his back and butt as tight as he could manage.

Mitch and Walt held each other and slowly drifted back into sleep. Walt's cock shrank and slipped out, but about half of him remained wedged between Mitch's cheeks. Their breathing kept time while the night sounds rose and fell outside Boris's house.

Later that night, Rick awoke. Beside him, Boris and Robert's soft snores and warm bulks reminded him where he was. He realized he hadn't been troubled by the anxious dreams. He had no desire to get up and move elsewhere. For the first time in a very long time, almost longer than he could remember, Rick had a feeling of genuine belonging. He turned on his side and was pleased that Robert did the same, so that all three of them were now spooned. Robert quietly draped an arm over Rick's middle and pulled him slightly closer. The rhythm of his snores resumed. Rick tentatively put his arm similarly over Boris's bulk. Boris grunted and sighed, and then hugged Rick's arm to his chest. Rick opened and closed his hand a couple of times, running his fingers through Boris' thick chest hair and sighed. In his half dreaming state he mused; he'd never known any man as kindly as either of the two that slept beside him. He put his nose to Boris' back and drew his warm scent in deeply, drifting off to sleep again.

The next morning, everyone rose at different times, so breakfast was a do-it-yourself task. By the time Rusty and Moose wandered into the kitchen, Walt, Vic and Rick had pushed the two bikes to the garage and we deep into an overhaul of both while Mitch watched and enjoyed the conversation. Larry and Snake were out exploring Boris's property, and Rene was still asleep. Moose and Rusty had stayed in half form all night and were still. Boris was in his kitchen, grinding beans for another pot of coffee. He looked up and saw the two pelted bears and growled in appreciation. "Nice! If you are hungry, help yourselves," he said, gesturing toward the pantry. Both bears padded over to the shelves and began collecting the makings of a bear sized breakfast. Still somewhat clumsy in their bearish forms, Moose and Rusty slowly changed back to human form.

"You're handling your changes well. Vic tells me that you have not had many opportunities to practice." Boris poured the water into the tank and set the machine brewing and the two began preparing their breakfast. Soon Moose and Rusty had heaped their plates high. Boris occupied himself with some clean up while the pair ate. When they were at last finished and more or less full, Boris sat at the table with them.

"If you don't mind, I should like to have a talk with you both."

"Uh-oh... sounds serious. We do something bad, Coach?" Moose sounded like an errant high school football player who's missed another practice, but there was a twinkle in his eye.

Boris caught that, and chuckled. "No, my friends, do not be upset. But I did want to chat for a bit." He looked at the two weres sitting across from him. "I wanted to say that I find you both much more than meets the eye." He looked first at Moose. "You have been thrust into unusual and threatening circumstances, yet you have remained calm and sensible. You have a steadiness about you. And in spite of your size, you move much more quickly than I would have expected. Back at the mine, you acted quickly to save your mate, pushing him away from danger. Well, I would have expected that. But you also have a large heart to go with your large frame."

Here, Moose blushed. He was used to his size being commented upon, but not to being praised for his heart.

"Once you were sure your mate was safe, you moved faster than I ever would have thought possible and put yourself in grave danger to save me. If it had not been for your body sheltering mine, I would almost certainly have been crushed. You saved my life, at the risk of your own. I thank you with all my heart." Boris looked straight into Moose's eyes. "If ever you need help, no matter what, you have only to ask."

Moose mumbled an embarrassed thanks.

Boris turned to Rusty. "You, my friend, are unusual; and I don't just mean your coloring. You have an ability I have never seen before in a were. Our senses are very acute, one might say preternaturally so. But when you knew the rogues were close to us, back in that town... You weren't sensing them with sight or sound or smell, were you?" Rusty shook his head. "I thought not."

"It was something...," Rusty started to reply, but Boris interrupted him.

"It was something else. Yes, I thought it was," Boris nodded

"But it's more. When I sense any of you, or Norman, it's.... clean. Fresh, I mean, not tainted. When I sensed those others, it was, well, not exactly dirty, but more unclean, somehow," Rusty said, anxious that Boris understand what was still puzzling to himself.

"Well, this is very interesting. It will need closer investigation, but that can wait for another time. I wonder, though ..."

"Wonder what?" Rusty asked.

"I wonder only if it might be in some way connected with your being a kermode." Boris looked thoughtful, and then laughed. "But, as I said, another time. I trust you both slept well, or at least got some sleep last night." Boris's eyes twinkled. "I get the impression, I cannot think how, that many of my guests last night slept rather less than usual!" He grinned wolfishly. Moose and Rusty looked at each other and smiled.

"What was your first clue?" Moose asked with a big grin.

"Well, the fact that you are covered in each other's cum might have something to do with it." All three roared with laughter.

"Now, you both know you are welcome to stay here as long as you..." Boris stopped as Rusty started to say something.

"Thanks, Boris, but we..."

Boris held up a paw. "No, I know. I was about to say that you are both anxious to get back to your home. I know you have plans and arrangements to make. But if you will allow me to make two small suggestions?" He looked at the pair.

"Shoot," Moose said.

"Well, I do not know if Vic has discussed this with you yet, but there will come times when you will feel an overwhelming urge to run free as a bear, to roam the woods and experience your full ursine nature. Do not try to suppress that urge. Honor it whenever and wherever you can. Such urges happen to all weres, and they are an essential part of our being. What I mean is, when you consider where to move when that become necessary, seriously consider a small rural town. Not just for the anonymity, but for the proximity to wild places. There are many bears who live in Canada for that reason, and a good number in your northwest as well. If you really think an urban setting is more to your needs or desires, at least consider someplace in this general area, Vancouver, or Seattle perhaps. Someplace within a short drive to wilderness."

"We have been talking about a possible move, but we haven't gotten all that far in our plans. I can go anywhere, and my Norman would really like to open his own practice. And he still has family, even with the divorce, so he feels a bit tied. It's all still up in the air."

"Well, give it serious thought." Boris sipped coffee contentedly. He wasn't worried about these two. They had shown a great deal of steadiness during the stress of the past days, in spite of their newness to everything. Boris had watched them carefully, and the bond between them was a strong one, likely to withstand the test of time.

"You mentioned two things?" Moose asked.

"Yes. Well, there is time for this, of course, but you will also need to be thinking about finances. You will live a long time. You, my friend," nodding at Rusty, "will outlive your pension. Of course, you can work at another profession, but some savings will come in handy, and I mean money you can put your hands on some time in the future, decades or even centuries from now."

"You mean a kind of trust?" Rusty asked.

"Oh, my no. Trusts are too closely watched and regulated for our purposes. Besides, we have to think long term. But there are ways. When you have had time to sort things out and make some plans, come to me and we'll talk further. I help many bears in this way, this is sort of my speciality." He rose. " And now, I think we should help Mitch with the cleaning of those vehicles."

The other two rose, and Boris swept them into a massive bear hug. "Welcome, brothers."

Chapter 13

The remainder of the morning and the afternoon was taken up with various chores and projects. Mitch left the motorcycle mechanics to wash the filthy vehicles, with Boris, Moose. Rusty helped by cleaning the interiors. That job turned out to be far more time consuming than any of them had anticipated. So did the motorcycle maintenance. The bikes, Snake's in particular, had been through a lot without much attention being given to their care.

The next morning they were all up earlier and worked hard towards finishing the general cleanup. "That bike of mine has never sounded happier... thanks, man!" Snake hugged Larry.

"If you two can stop making out for a minute, help us carry these tents in here, will ya?" Mitch shouted. Laughing, Snake and Larry went out and each grabbed a tent and carried it back into the garage. Mitch and the others followed with other equipment that had been washed and dried out in the sun. Boris directed the stowing of the camping equipment they had used as 'camouflage' on the recent road trip. It was past one when hunger drove them all indoors.

"I have a suggestion." Boris said while stroking his luxurious beard, "There is a pond not far from here, just a half hour's walk. We can all grab food and drinks and make a picnic of it for the afternoon. I say enough of labors... time for fun!" Boris looked expectantly at the others.

His suggestion was greeted with cheers and whoops. He and Robert handed baskets and coolers around and the bears began filling them with the necessities of a bear's picnic. In no time, they were on the trail leading to Boris's pond.

The pond sat in a small valley, little more than a depression, but surrounded by stands of tall pines and a rocky outcropping to one side. The pond itself had a sand beach in a crescent around about half its diameter and was fed by a natural spring which kept it clear, fresh and cool. A stream ran from it further on into the woods. A fire pit that looked natural but in fact had been made by Boris and some friends the year before was placed between the end of the path and the rocks and in the middle of the widest part of the beach. A sturdy picnic table sat close to the rocks. The portable grill was set up and the charcoal fire started for the grilling; other goodies laid out on the table.

"Vic and I will watch the grill, you bears rinse off in the pond. I think you will find the water agreeable." The others shed clothes and ran for the water, while Boris and Vic worked on making spiced meat patties from the ground beef while the grill warmed.

Vic popped a bit of the raw hamburger in his mouth. "Mmmmm... yours or Robert's? I can't quite identify..." Vic shrugged. "I give."

"Ah, those are mine. It's just onion, some garlic salt, Worcestershire and a bit of coriander. Oh, and a dash of soy sauce. Robert makes a killer egg salad and a potato salad for which I've never found an equal. I think he put big tubs of both in one of the coolers."

Vic search for the salad and found it, along with the beers. He opened one and handed it to Boris, then took one for himself. He tipped the bottle of Moosehead up and let the cool liquid quench his thirst. He gazed at the others, frolicking in the pond.

"It's good to see the all playing so well together."

"Yes, we all seem compatible. I trust that we'll all play as well after lunch," Boris grinned.

"Spoken like a horny bear!" Vic hugged Boris from behind. "They're all naked, why aren't we?"

"Because grease splatters hurt, but that is no reason to deny me the pleasure of seeing your naked body," Boris said, smiling fondly at his cooking companion. Vic did a slow striptease for Boris, and was startled with the hoots and hollers of approval from the other bears.

"Go, Daddy! Go, Daddy!" Mitch and Walt chanted together from the edge of the pond. Vic threw a couple of hamburger buns at them.

Boris, laughing at the antics, tended the burgers. Vic went back to setting out the condiments and buns. Moose and Rusty, dripping wet from the pond and both sporting impressive erections, moved in to help.

"You two look like you were having fun," Vic said, handing Moose a package of extra large plates.

"Damn me, but that Snake's got a talented tongue. He shoulda been in the Navy, the way he snorkles." Rusty laughed. "He still looks half-starved, but I bet he'll bulk up nicely. Are those burger ready yet, Boris?" he said, peering hungrily at the grill.

"In a moment, my friend. Go call the others, would you?"

Rusty trotted off to let the other know that lunch was nearly ready. The stocky bear's fur glowed a reddish gold in the sun's rays and Moose looked after him, lust and love shining in his eyes. Rusty found René on his knees, sucking Robert. Larry was semi-reclined, sucking René. Snake was demonstrating his talents again to Mitch; Walt and Rick were cuddled leaning against the rocks, talking motorcycles, and occasionally fondling each other.

"Come on, guys. Protein shakes will spoil your appetite. Food's on!"

"C'est impossible! The appetite of ze ours is never spoiled!" René said but in short order they had all broken their couplings and crowded around the grill and table. Plates were filled, and the bears distributed themselves around the table, with the overflow sitting on blankets. Beers were passed around.

"These are great!" Rick said, nodding between mouthfuls at Boris, who accepted the compliment with a smile.

Snake devoured everything on his plate, but waited until others began reloading their plates before getting up to take seconds. Vic leaned over and nudged Boris and said quietly, "It looks like Snake is doing justice to a bear's appetite; did you bring extra?"

"Silly bear, of course I did. It wouldn't be a bear's picnic without 'extra'." He looked at Snake. "We need to get some meat and much more fat on him. I know it's weeks until he will change for the first time, but he needs to make up for lost time... or in this case, lost meals. I wouldn't be surprised if he has thirds or fourths and I'm not about to discourage him if he does. If he and Larry would stay with us, I could be sure he would be beefed up in time. But I am not sure that will happen."

"Oh?" Vic asked, raising his eyebrows. "You know something we don't?"

"Well, Snake and Rick are rather like, how do you say... 'oil and water'? They don't mix that well, and I rather think that Rick will be staying with us for a while." Boris smiled.

"You dawg! That's why you been pushing Larry and Snake together!" Vic play punched Boris on the shoulder.

"Only in part, only in part. Regardless, I think that Snake will be a handful. Even though he seems to have accepted his new circumstances, I sense he's troubled about it too. I think it's why he avoids Rick. I think part of him blames Rick for being changed, even though he didn't have anything to do with it. Anger, especially unfocused unreasoning anger, doesn't have to be logical. I also think he will do better with someone who's background is similar to his own. Larry fits that bill far better than either I or Robert would. Besides, have you seen the way that cantankerous ol' bear looks at him? That man is in love!"

Vic smiled, "Yeah, I think I noticed that only about a dozen times or more since breakfast. Now Rick, well, the world hasn't been very kind to Rick. He's had a lot of fucked up situations in his life so far. He opened up some on the way back here, and it's amazing he's not a total sociopath after all he's been through. He could do with a couple of good papa bears to show him that love he missed out on growing up, give him role models... standards to live up to." Vic looked at Boris. "I don't think he could do better than you and Robert."

Boris laid a paw on Vic's thigh. "Thank you. Both Robert and I have grown quite fond of him in a very short time. He's a genuinely good soul with an eagerness to please. I think with proper guidance he will overcome his unfortunate beginnings as a bear. I think he will do us all proud."

"Believe it or not, I've seen worse cases turn themselves around in circumstances not nearly as fortunate. I have a lot of faith that Rick will do just that. He's got an inner strength he's just starting to discover. All he needs is someone to treat him with love and respect and I know he will get that with you guys." Vic reached over and gave Boris a kiss. "You'll be great mentors."

Seconds and thirds having been consumed, along with additional beers, the friskiness had resumed, both on the blankets and on the picnic table. Vic looked over at Rick, who was laughing and kidding with the others but not actively taking part in the sexual horseplay.

Boris stood up, brushing crumbs from his chest fur. "And now, I think it's play time. With so much young blood around, I am beginning to feel we are being ignored, don't you? Shall we show them how it's done?"

Vic grinned with eager lust. "Why not? Can't let the young'uns have all the fun, now, can we?" The two headed towards the picnic table where Rusty was taking everything Moose could give him. The crowd of bears were growling with pleasure, watching the pair's sweaty coupling.

"What all y'all really need is a sling," Larry said. His paw was fondling Snake's butt and Snake was watching intently as Moose's monster vanished in Rusty's furry ass. Rusty was on his back on the table, and Moose was jacking him with one paw, while he worked one of his nips with the other. His eyes rolled back in his head and he shouted as he shot deep in his lover's ass. Rusty squirmed and wriggled as he was loaded.

"Nah... slings are for lazy fuckers," Vic said scratching the healing scar on the back of his head absently.

Larry gave him a look. "An' jus' what do you have down in that changin' room of yours? You an' me have both had ourselves a turn or two in it over the years."

"I didn't say I wasn't a lazy fucker..." he said with a mischievous grin, "I'm just not today." Vic stepped up next to Moose and tapping him on the shoulder. "Can I have the next dance?" Moose looked at Vic, his breath rasping, sweat pouring off his face and chest.

"If it's OK with Rusty." He looked down. Rusty nodded, squeezing Moose's paw with his hand. Vic stepped up to the plate, centered and drove in with one vigorous thrust that scooted Rusty partly across the table and made the bear yelp in appreciation.

"Yeah!" Rusty's eyes rolled back. Vic grabbed his thick legs and hauled him back to the edge of the table and began a thorough job of pounding the strawberry blond bear's hairy ass. "Damn, son, you've sure gotten furry! That cock of yours is some sight, too. You like showin' it off for us, don'tcha? Moose musta been fuckin' you regular, filling you up with bear seed from that fuckin' telephone pole of his."

Vic continued pounding Rusty's rear, all the while talking dirty to him, hunched over him, giving no quarter. Rusty loved every minute of it, knowing that Vic was playing this role just for him, tapping into the exhibitionist streak that was usually buried in Rusty's personality. Up till now, only Moose had mined that particular vein; now, Vic was making it public. Vic's muscular furry butt and muscular thighs bunched and clenched as he drove his cock deep into Rusty's cum-filled tunnel. Vic looked over at Moose.

"Man, your cum makes damn fine lube... nice and silky smooth." He turned back to Rusty. "Ready, man? " Rusty nodded. "Here comes! Gonna fill that bear ass of yours, son. You'll have plenty of lube in there, fucker!"

Moose came up behind Vic and clamped his nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, twisting and rolling them. Vic growled out, "I'm gonna shoot!" Moose continued working Vic's tits and added to it by biting Vic's hairy shoulder; with that, Vic trembled and jerked spasmodically as he shot his thick load into Rusty's waiting ass. It looked like Vic would never stop pumping Rusty's chute, but eventually he withdrew the slick, glistening fuckpole, red and still swollen, from Rusty's rear.

Moose kissed the blond bear's neck and released him, patting his furry butt.

Vic reached out and grabbed Boris's arm and hauled him over. "You game, you Russkie bear fucker?"

Boris, far from being offended at Vic's abrupt invitation, scrambled up on the table as Rusty made room for him. Vic greased his bloated pole again as Boris put his heavy legs up on the blond bear's shoulders.

Vic grinned evilly. "Let's kick this up a notch, OK? Change with me."

Both bears began to metamorphose into full bear form. Each became a magnificent specimen of bear flesh; torsos, legs, arms, heads transforming before the eager gaze of the others. The table groaned with the additional weight but held. Vic toyed with Boris's hole, popping the flattened head of his bearcock in and out. Boris growled out a command, and all but Snake could understand that he had said the ursine equivalent of 'Fuck me, dammit!'. Even Snake got the gist of it when Vic nodded and sheathed his meat in Boris's ass.

Boris's cock, that had been half extend from his sheath, was now fully engorged and a fat blob of precum was jolted out by Vic's sudden intrusion. Boris's growls and vocalizations seemed to add to Vic's intensity. He was hunched over Boris, his belly nearly rubbing the Russian bear's cock, thrusting faster and faster into the big bear's body. Each impact sent waves rippling up the sides of the bear under him. The precum flowed steadily out of Boris's cock, making his belly slick and shiny. Vic's heaving gut rubbed against Boris's rigid pole and compressed his ball sack. Boris thrust upward, matching Vic's pounding thrusts.

The crescendos of growls, expressions of ursine delight and the scent of bearsex increased the sexual interest of the others. Watching was fun but not nearly enough for the others. The sensual stimuli combined to excite the libidos of the others and within moments, desire flared. Couples and triples formed, kissing, fondling and groping. An almost crazed lust overtook them, the passionate need to couple with their own kind, to be with and in each other, to link and to bond, drove the bears into increasingly tight groupings. Vic roared thunderously, accompanied by Boris' growls of pleasure as they orgasmed together; but neither were much noticed by the group of horny bears by this time involved with their own pleasure. Eventually, all but Boris and Vic were in one huge bearpile, spent, covered in cum, holding and stroking each other tenderly as they each came down from their sexual highs.

Vic pulled out of Boris, his meat still rigid thanks to the internal penis bone that always formed in full bear shape. Boris had shot all over himself and was rubbing it into his fur with his huge paws. They both lumbered upright and quickly changed back into human form. Vic hugged Boris and the two stepped around the bearpile and made their way into the water.

"Guess we showed them, eh, old man?" Vic chuckled.

Boris laughed. "That we did. I don't think that picnic table will ever be the same, though. I must remind Robert to build the next ones more sturdily and to add at least one more."

The others in the pile slowly disengaged, some looking a bit dazed still.

"Wow... that was something," Rick said. Snake nodded. The two had been avoiding each other for the most part, but the bearpile had brought them together, at least temporarily.

"It's good to let the bear out sometimes, no?" René said, giving Larry a hug.

Larry hugged back and gave the French Canadian bear a friendly grope. "You got that right, bro!"

"You know, I never thought of it, but fucking's thirsty work," Mitch said, "any more beer in the cooler?"

Walt bent over one of the coolers and opened it.

"Now, that's what I call a pretty sight!" Moose said, appreciatively.

"And I'm lucky enough to get to see it every day!" Mitch agreed.

"Plenty left in this one... who wants one"? Walt asked, straightening up, two bottles in each paw.

The rest of the afternoon passed in easy conversation, some naps and some more friendly coupling, this time with less intensity as they were all more or less sated. The new bears had cemented clan relationships between themselves and their elders and the bonds of family were strengthened by it. They'd all become closer to each other since their arrival at Boris and Robert's place weeks ago.

Rick was laying back on one of the blankets. Robert held him from behind, running his hairy hands through the younger bear's chest hair. Rick reflected on the afternoon as he watched the others play wrestle, nuzzle and kiss and horse around in the water, "This," he thought, "is the way weres are supposed to be."

"I wish Sebastian could have seen this," he said softly.

Robert kissed his neck, "Why do you say that?"

"Because, maybe it would have changed him; maybe he would have finally understood." He reached behind with one arm and hugged Robert.

"Maybe..." Robert said and kissed the young bear on the top of his head, smiling to himself.

The sun was beginning to drop below the tree line, and the shadows lengthened. Feeling the need to clean off, most of the others headed back into the pond of a rinse off and some final friskiness before they all headed back to Boris's house.

Boris leaned back, Vic's head pillowed on his belly. He sighed and looked off across the pond, enjoying the sight of his bear buddies playing in the water. Vic nodded in their direction.

"All this yours, Boris?"

"Yes. I was able to buy it a few years ago when the man who inherited it decided he didn't want to forsake the temptations of Montreal night life and decided to sell it. A friend alerted me that it was going on the market, and I quickly put in an offer." Boris idly thumbed one of Vic's nipples.

"I envy you the land and space, man. Tahoe is getting way too crowded. Developers are everywhere."

Boris nodded. "That was my primary concern in buying the extra land. If development ever reaches here, it will be well beyond my sight and hearing. The privacy is a great comfort. I wouldn't want to have to give up the gatherings I host here." Boris looked down at Vic. "I hope you and the others can come this summer. It would an ideal way to introduce our new brethren to the rest of the weres."

We'll do our best. I know Mitch would like to meet the others, and I'll tell Moose and Rusty. Maybe if you talk to them, too?"

Boris nodded. "I shall. And to Snake and Larry, though Larry already told me he would be here for our regular midsummer gathering." The big bear leaned down and sought for the nipple he's been rubbing, his lips and tongue parting the fur. When he found it, Vic groaned, then growled loudly as Boris chewed on the meaty nub.

"Aww, fuck, man! You sure know how to get my motor runnin'..."

Snake looked at the two from his vantage point on the rocks. "God damn, don't they ever run out of steam?" Everyone else laughed.

"Hell no!" Larry said, "But you'll find that out soon enough."

Epilogue

Several days later, Boris and Robert stood on the deck, naked, looking down as Snake and Larry mounted their bikes and waved. Rick had decided that the bike he'd owned would only bring back bad memories and so he'd given it to Larry. He'd get another, he knew that. He enjoyed the open road far too much, it was one of the best things about being on his hawg with Sebastian. Maybe he'd even build one from the ground up. Larry could build good memories on his old bike and he would build good memories on his new one. Larry offered to pay but Rick turned him down saying that if he wanted to pay him back he should take long rides with Snake and enjoy riding.

So, Larry had cashed in his return ticket, and he and Snake had made plans to return to Texas on the road, with a stop in Colorado to see some old friends of Larry's. Rusty and Moose had left in Mitch's truck two days before, and Vic, Mitch, and Walt had hit the road in Vic's Avalanche the day after. Snake and Larry were the last to depart. After strapping on helmets, they gunned the scoots and roared off.

"You think they will make out OK?" Robert asked.

"Yes, I think so. I think it will be good for Larry to have the responsibility of a cub. Snake will need a strong hand, too. He was rather amenable here, but he was still a bit at sixes and sevens, still grateful to know where his next meal was coming from and happy to have friends he could trust. His natural independence will surface soon enough, and then he will be a handful." The big bear laughed. "I don't envy Larry the task, but he will be equal to it, I think." Boris's arm went around Robert's shoulder. "It helps that there is a bond of affection growing between them. They're growing closer by the hour."

"Heh. Thanks in no small part to you, you old grump. I noticed you kept arranging for them to have time together and jobs to do together." Robert put his head on Boris's shoulder.

"And I think the next time you see Larry, he'll look a bit different."

"Really? How?" Robert asked his curiosity piqued.

"Well, I could swear that Larry's grown in the last week or so. He seems taller and bulkier, not by much, but I've seen it before."

"Seen what?"

"Well, long ago when my Alexander changed me, he too changed. I had known him, watched him filled with lust, memorizing every detail of his form for years before he showed me what he was and I accepted the gift we all share. Alexander was a bear of impressive size and bulk... and became more so after I became his mate. He told me it happens sometimes. I think it's going to happen to Larry, too."

Robert smiled, "Well, like he says, 'ever'thang's bigger 'n Texas '." Robert had managed to capture Larry's facial expression, tone of voice and drawl perfectly.

Boris laughed, "Indeed!"

Rick, also buck naked, stepped out onto the deck with a tray of cold beers. He set the tray down on the table and joined the two in looking out over the scenery.

"I am very glad you decided to stay with us, Rick," Boris said, taking a beer. Robert nodded. Rick colored slightly.

"I'm glad you asked me, but I'm still a little hesitant. Are you guys sure that..."

"Quite sure. It will do him good to have someone else around to argue with. OW!" Boris yelped at the slap on the rump Robert gave him. Robert softened it with just a bit of a smile.

"Well, it's true. I'm a solitary old grump, as Robert is always pointing out. He likes people around, so it's nice to have a third here with us and there is a small business proposition in Vancouver that I am interested in that will take my direct attention for a while. I will be away for a month or so. You are most welcome to stay as long as you want, Rick."

Robert nodded. "As long as you want." He looked at Rick, who smiled back at the two bears who had taken him in. They'd given him a sense of stability and belonging. They'd opened their hearts and home to him, something no one else had done so easily and without asking anything in return.

Boris raised his glass, "To those we love!" The other two clinked their glasses against his and repeated the phrase and all drank.

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PapaWereBear has other werebear stories at http://www.geocities.com/papawerebear1

UrsusMajr has further, non-werebear, stories on the Nifty.org site, in the Gay Male/Adult Friends section, under the directory "Bear".

PapaWereBear and UrsusMajr have another joint werebear story that will appear on Nifty.org, called Mack. Look for it under the Gay Male/Adult Friends section.

Happy reading!