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Apart from the general sound of the engine and the wheels going over the terrain, there was not much noise in the truck. It was as sleek inside as it looked outside. Steph was pleased that she had not been put next to the cave lion, which must have been in the hold in the back; something she knew but the two men didn’t know she knew. The grey leather seats were comfortable but seemed an unnecessary expense. Steph smiled. It was odd that a part of her dad’s frugality had rubbed off on her and chosen such a moment to make an appearance.

“So what are your names?”

Steph asked, half eying the small arsenal strapped to the ceiling of the vehicle. The larger man also kept glancing up at the weapons, periodically touching one.

There was a moment’s hesitation from the smaller one before he replied, without looking back from the wheel,

“Kelvin said we are not to give names in case we get implicated in anything by mistake.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, just the line of work we’re in.”

The larger man sniggered drawing a scathing look from his partner.

Steph sunk deeper into the leather. She supposed it didn’t matter whether she knew the men’s names or not. Even if they had given her their names, she doubted they’d have been genuine.

She looked out the window. Davey had told Steph the signs to look out for that would let her know she was getting close. A tree that had snapped in the middle in a storm was, he said, the most obvious one. From there it was suggested she get them out the car and walking, using the excuse of not wanting to alert the bear as the reason to dump the truck.

They passed a small tree that, to Steph’s eyes at least, looked as if it had snapped in the wind. Was that the tree? Was that the landmark? It didn’t seem as obvious as Davey had suggested it would be. It wasn’t even snapped in the middle exactly. Should she suggest stopping now? But what if it was the wrong tree and they were too far out?

Steph’s concerns were quickly alleviated when they trundled past a huge pine that looked as if a giant had kicked the top down. It was an odd sight. The top of what was left of the trunk was splintered horribly but the branches below it still showed some greenery.

“Stop,”

Steph muttered.

“What?”

“Stop!”

she repeated forcibly.

“Why?”

said the smaller man, slowing down but not coming to a complete standstill.

“We’re there. We need to get out here or the bear will hear us!”

That sounded legitimate to Steph, but the man just clicked his tongue and sped up once more.

“We want him to hear us, so he comes out to play,”

said the larger man touching the weapons again.

Steph could see the logic. It was not, however, what she wanted.

“But the truck won’t be able to get up the slope!”

she said, her voice a little more urgent as she watched the trees pass them by; the small ben’s eastern slope getting closer into view.

“This one will,”

said the man driving.

“Anyway, if the worst comes to the worst, we just get out at the bottom of the hill.”

“Yes, but you can’t do that,”

Steph said, shutting her eyes and pinching her nose.

“Why not?”

“Because as soon as the bear hears a motorised vehicle, it will run! It is why we only use electric ones. It has associated the motorised ones with our local vet and being brought in for checks. So it runs.”

Steph was impressed with herself. Both the story and the faked disbelief in having to explain so obvious an error was, in her mind, a moment of genius. Even so, had the act landed?

The smaller man slowed the car to a stop.

“What are you doing?”

asked the larger one.

“You heard her! If we get too close he’ll hear us and run, and then we’ll have to chase the bugger!”

The larger man shrugged.

“Could be fun. I’d be up for a proper chase.”

“You may well be, but we don’t have the time. We need to sort things out sooner rather than later… people are dying, remember?”

“How could I forget?”

huffed the larger man, already choosing what he wanted to take with him from above his head. Steph watched. He settled on his rifle and two handguns. He caught Steph watching.

“They’re dart guns,”

he grinned. “Look.”

He pulled back the chamber of one of the handguns and, sure enough, a sleek-looking dart was inside.

“Looks real though, doesn’t it?”

“And the rifle?”

Steph asked.

“Ah,”

the man said.

“better to be safe than sorry. Things don’t always go as planned.”

“No, they don’t!”

said the smaller man helping himself to a rifle to the right of his head.

“Although, it would be best if it did.”

He then turned to his friend.

“You sure you don’t want to use this instead of them?”

he gestured at the rifle he had taken down that, Steph recognised, was a tranq gun.

“I suppose I should,”

the larger man sighed.

“Not as fun though. You carry it for now and I can take it when I’m there.”

With that, he opened his door.

“He’s the better shot,”

the smaller man said, noticing Steph staring at him. He too got out of the cab. Steph followed.

“Hang on!”

“What?”

asked the larger man, turning around.

The smaller man then chucked the keys to the truck to him. The large man caught them, looked at them, rolled his eyes and put them in a side pocket before zipping it up.

“Zip pockets.”

The smaller man shrugged.

“I know I need them, but they never seem to be on the clothes I like.”

Steph then noticed his eyes flick towards the rear of the truck before he turned to follow his partner.