Vengeance & Honey
The roar in the distance makes me check my safety once more. It is still off. I peer down the scope, hoping to catch a glimpse of them in the orange glow of dusk, but they are not stupid. At least, the ones that are still alive aren’t. Natural selection at its finest.
I’m the last one standing, my fellow apiarists long since slain. In their defence, our foes are relentless, several times our size and built to decimate a setup like this. We thought bunching all the hives together would make them easier to defend, but it just made them easier to find. I only hope I have a chance to teach someone else that lesson one day.
I have one job. I am a Royal Guard. I must protect the queen. Well, queens. There are eight hives remaining. If we lose one, we’ll lose them all. All of our eggs are in one basket. Sort of. I mean, technically that is also true, all the Henkeepers are half a mile down the road with a similar grouped setup, but they only have to contend with the crafty little foxes. No fox is going to tear your arm off or crush the air from your lungs. Rabies or salmonella might get them eventually, but no Henkeeper is getting mauled to death tonight. Lucky bastards.
There’s another roar. Closer this time. I hear the buzzing intensify behind me. My tiny sisters know what’s coming. They will defend their queens just as vigorously as I will, more so, they will die to protect them. I’m hoping I don’t have to.
The first one breaks from cover. It is a juvenile, too young to know better. I don’t want to shoot it, but what choice do I have. I don’t have enough bullets for warning shots. I kneel down and double tap, right in the heart. The bear stumbles and skids to a halt, kicking up a cloud of dust. There is a guttural roar from the tree line, far louder than before. I’m guessing that is Momma bear. Great. Just what I needed. I’ve pissed them off.
Three burst out at once, hoping to overwhelm me. I take slow, deep breaths, firing on the exhale. One, two…one, two…one, two. Each bear falls, although the last one is close enough that I could reach out and pet it. If four had charged, I’d be dead already.
I see movement as several bears start to move away. Maybe they are done for tonight. Maybe I can finally get some rest.
No such luck. A huge grizzly charges out, twice the size of the others, a look of pure anger in its eyes. Momma bear. She wants vengeance. And honey. Vengeance and honey sounds like an awful 80’s rock band. God, I hope that isn’t my last thought.
I try my trusted technique, firing twice, but it doesn’t stop her. It doesn’t even slow her down. I fire till I am out of bullets, but still she charges. I’m all out of options. I pull the knife from my belt. Hand to hand combat with a bear. What could possibly go wrong. Sure, I’ve trained for this, but in the simulator I could laugh it off and hit reset when I got mauled alive, which was every single time. There’s no extra life out here, no respawn.
The bear crashes into the first hive on its path straight for me. The inhabitants burst out, spoiling for a rumble. They swarm the bear, going for its eyes and nose, anything that is vulnerable. Still it charges. It really wants me dead. Ten feet. Five feet. Two feet…
I roll as the bear lunges for me, its arms outstretched. If it grabs me I’m dead. If it bites me, I’m dead. If it claws me, I’m dead. I’m genuinely surprised I’m still alive. I slash at the bears armpit, hoping to catch an artery. All I am doing is pissing it off. I’m just another sting, a pesky bee.
I guess if I am going to go out, this is how to do it. Fighting to save the queen, surrounded by my sisters in arms.
The bear rears up on its hind legs, ready to crash down upon me. I drape myself over the nearest hive, the knife held out in front of me. If she wants this honey she is going to have to come through me.
No problem says the bear. She doesn’t actually say that, she uses the universal sign language of swatting me sideways. It is effortless, like I am a bug. As I land in a heap I have to think fast so I don’t stab myself with my own knife. This has to end now. Any longer and the other bears will come back, and then I’ll really be dead.
She tears the lid off the hive and jams her face in. Hunger has briefly overridden her desire for my blood. This is it, my one chance. I run and leap onto her back, the one place I am safe from teeth and claws. I bring the knife down again and again, holding on with my knees as she desperately tries to buck me off. With each fresh wound she gets weaker, until her legs buckle and she slumps to the ground. I keep stabbing until my arm goes numb. You would too.
When I am certain she is dead I drag myself to my feet and assess the damage. Two hives destroyed, but six remain. It will have to do. Backup should arrive tomorrow from the Colony, and then I can rest. Until then, I need some energy. I hold out my hand and catch a long golden strand of honey with my fingertips as it drips towards the floor. I lift it to my mouth and let the sweetness wash over me. Then the guilt comes. This isn’t mine.
I pull a jar out of my backpack and place it under the flow of amber lifeblood.
It’s a good job honey doesn’t spoil, we need every last drop.
