Beast Bear (Return To Fate Mountain #2)

Chapter

Nine

Serena rose from her narrow dorm bed and rubbed her eyes. Early sunlight filtered through the thin curtains, glowing on a desk cluttered with notes on rescue procedures and wilderness routes. She dressed in a sturdy jacket and hiking pants, then checked her phone. She half-hoped to see a message from Theo, even though she couldn’t admit it to herself when she didn’t find one. Instead, she saw a new academy email. She squinted at the subject line: “Orienteering I Session Starts at 8 AM.”

She stared at the clock on her nightstand. It showed half past eight. She frowned, recalling that this class was supposed to begin at nine. Worry nudged her. She pressed her lips together and decided she would skip breakfast. She grabbed her backpack and hurried out into the dorm hallway. Students passed by, a few chatting about schedule confusion, but she had no time to investigate further. She took the stairs two at a time, boots thumping on the worn steps, then pushed through the exit door into the crisp morning air.

At the staging area, Jade Rivers, the instructor, stood near a small cluster of trainees. Jade wore cargo pants, a warm fleece, and had a compass dangling from a lanyard around her neck. A few trainees looked uneasy, each holding printouts or phone screens that likely showed the same email Serena had read. Jade’s expression darkened when she saw Serena approach.

“Did you get that email too?” Jade asked. She drummed her fingers on a stack of laminated maps.

Serena nodded, breath short from her rushed walk. “Yes, it said eight. I thought class started at nine.”

A tall trainee with a puzzled face stepped forward, phone in hand. “We arrived thinking we were late, but there’s no sign of the main group. Jade said they left an hour ago.”

Serena glanced at Jade, who ran a hand through her hair. “Admin told me a bunch of them already departed,” Jade said. “They must have trusted that email. This makes no sense. The official schedule was always nine.”

Serena observed the confusion in the trainees’ eyes. She noticed a row of stacked boxes near the shed, the usual place for orientation gear. Some boxes were open, gear gone. The group that left must have taken it.

Jade let out a low sigh. “I was going to brief everyone at nine about a landslide on the planned route. Now they’re out there with no idea the path is blocked.”

Serena felt a hint of dread. “They might be in real trouble if they try to push through.”

Jade’s radio crackled. A faint voice echoed through the static. “Trainee… near landslide… ankle… problem.” Then silence.

Jade’s eyes hardened. “I’m canceling this session,” she said. “I’ll radio Administration and let them know we have a possible injury out there.” She keyed her radio and spoke in measured tones, informing Admin of the crisis. Then she turned to the remaining trainees. “Go back to campus. Stay put until further notice.”

Serena stepped closer to Jade, gripping the straps of her backpack. “I have my first-aid kit. I can help.”

“Great,” Jade answered, scanning the worried faces. “Follow me. We’ll head to the route they should have taken.”

They set off on the forest trail, the path winding among tall pines and thick undergrowth. The canopy let in scattered rays of light. The air felt damp, and the soft rustle of branches gave Serena a sense of unease. Jade walked briskly, map in hand. She muttered about sabotage in the academy’s scheduling system, then shook her head. “Maybe I’m just stressed,” she said.

Serena had no response, only a deepening concern that too many odd mistakes had plagued them recently. As they climbed, uneven ground forced them to move in single file. Fallen branches and slippery soil hinted at a recent landslide.

At last, they reached a clearing where the soil looked disturbed. Clumps of uprooted grass and scattered rocks indicated the landslide’s aftermath. In the distance, they saw a cluster of trainees near a slope. One young man sat on the ground, clutching his ankle, while others waved, relief obvious in their faces when they spotted Jade and Serena.

Serena knelt next to the injured trainee. “What happened?” she asked, pulling her paramedic kit free.

He winced, short brown hair plastered to his forehead. “I tripped. My foot sank into loose rubble. My ankle twisted.”

Serena gently checked the joint, pressing lightly around the swollen area. “Feels like a severe sprain.” She pulled out bandages and a small splint. “Hold still. I’ll wrap it. Let me know if it hurts more.”

He grimaced but nodded. The other trainees hovered around, concern etched on their features. Jade stepped aside, scanning the slope. Loose gravel made the area risky. She advised everyone to move back from the edge.

Serena finished securing the ankle. “Keep weight off it if you can.”

Jade helped lift the trainee. “We’ll take it slow.” She eyed the rest of the group. “Follow me, single file. Be careful. The ground’s unstable.”

They retraced their steps, guiding the injured trainee down the safest route they could find. Serena kept a hand under his elbow, Jade on his other side. The walk back felt long, but eventually the pines thinned as they neared campus.

When they reached the main building, Jade grabbed her radio. “I need Alicia here for a sprained ankle. We’re by the main entrance.” A crackle of static signaled acknowledgment. Alicia arrived soon after. She praised Serena’s splinting, then assisted with moving the trainee to the medic bay.

Jade paused next to Serena. “I’m going to find Poppy and report this,” she said. She ran a hand over her face, frustration plain. “That email fiasco… I can’t ignore this.” She hurried off, determined.

Serena watched her go, mind racing through the day’s events. She followed Alicia and the trainee into the medic bay, double- checking her bandaging and ensuring he was settled on a padded bench. Once she was satisfied he was in capable hands, she left.

Back in the corridor, she felt a weight deep in her chest. The suspicious email that changed the schedule, the repeated accidents around the academy, and the near miss with the landslide… it all seemed bigger than a simple mistake. She walked toward her dorm, unsettled by the thought that someone might be purposefully undermining the school.