I tapped my fingers on the wheel of my old Dodge Dakota, as the tires bump and lurch over the rocky road. Twin lines of tall trees fenced the path to Hell’s Gate, two mountain peaks that curve toward each other, reminiscent of devil’s horns.

A rabbit darted onto the road. I slammed on the brakes so hard, they squealed. My chest slammed against the wheel, and my grip slipped as I shrieked. The truck fishtailed, sending up a cloud of dust to float through the sunbeams flashing in my eyes.
As the truck lurched to a stop, I wondered if my stomach would follow on its heels, or if I’d throw up the organ along with the contents of the yogurt I’d had for breakfast, now sour in my throat.

“Kat!” Lola screamed from the passenger seat as something big, sleek and black exploded from the bushes. The form sailed in front of my windshield, clearing two car lengths before disappearing into the settling dust whipping around the opposite trees where the rabbit had gone.

I trembled, as I pushed my bangs from my face. I glanced at Lola, who stared in the direction the black animal had gone.
“What was that?” She cowered against her window.

I cleared my throat. “A bear?”

“Bears aren’t shaped like that.”

The dust settled on the windshield, as my heart pounded. The forest returned to the regular ebb and flow of nature. I commanded myself to take a deep breath, and shake it off.

Lola laughed, a shaky sound that vibrated in her throat. “Well then. Shall we continue?”