Page 12 of Blacktail

“The. Forest. Of Bones.” Apple spoke slowly, as if to a rather dull kitten. “That’s what we call it. Chipmunks, I mean.”

“We’re in the fucking woods,” the bear said. “Perhaps you’ve noticed. There’s often forests here in the forest. It’s common.”

“I’m aware. But not like this.”

The bear drew in a deep breath, blew it out slowly. “Like what, then? Exactly?”

Apple looked heavenward. “The bones—they loom. There’s thousands of them. Acres. Of bones. As far as the eye can see. Hence, ‘Forest of Bones.’ ” He paused. “Although, I’ll admit you’re a lot taller than we. Perhaps it’s not quite so impressive at your height. Though it’s still quite a sight. Sepulchral, like.”

“I’m a bear. I like dead things. I make them myself, quite often.”

“Not like this,” Apple repeated. “I’m telling you, there’s a lot. Like, a lot a lot. More than you’d think. Have you heard of a lynx who went by the name of Hate?”

“Can’t say as I have.”

“He was the first,” Apple said. “Probably still out there, somewhere…at, you know…the bottom of the pile.”

“Of the Forest,” the bear said.

“Yes.”

“Of Bones.”

“Yes.”

“I’m assuming that means there were others? In this pile? That came after the lynx, I mean?”

“Oh yes. Many. Many-many.”

“Lynx, I assume?”

“A few, yes. But only a few. Hate was thought to be the fiercest of them. After Blacktail made such short work of him, the other lynx…Well, I suppose they found pressing business elsewhere. But then…”

“Get on with it.”

“Word gets around,” Apple said. “This hill right here”—Apple stamped one tiny foot to illustrate—“is prime hunting ground. A lot of beasts would like to claim it. I imagine that’s why you’re here, come to think of it.”

“I’m just out for a stroll.”

“Hmm. Well, not long after the lynx, the cougars came—I forget how many, but quite a few. Everyone was sure that would be the end of the little wolf cub, but…nope.” The little chipmunk leaned forward. “Can you guess what happened to them?”

“Forest of Bones?”

“Precisely. Then a wolverine, then wolverines—plural, I mean, several of them. All at once, like. Then a pack of wild dogs, then something called a honey badger—”

“A what?”

Apple wagged his tail. “Many of us wondered the same thing. They’re from the Deep South, apparently. Do you know what a zoo is?”

“No.”

“It’s a place men make. They—Well, never mind. Not important. But the honey badger said he’d been kidnapped as a cub. He was a fierce little fellow, I’ll give him that. He probably came as close as anyone—which was not very close, but still, he put up a good account of himself before…well. Forest of Bones.”

“I see,” the bear said. “I’m sure this fellow was quite the scrapper. And the rest as well. I myself make a point of being polite to cougars. However…”

“Yes?”

“I notice that you didn’t mention any bear in that list.”