The plane lifted off just as the animal reached it, rising to claw at the tires.

They flew hard out of the riverbed, into the sky. Sweat snaked down Dodge’s spine, despite his layers.

Spike was sitting on a crate, his hand clutched to Dodge’s seat.

“Something is wrong with that animal,” Dodge said, banking.

“You think?” Spike leaned over his shoulder. “He’s been camping out at our place for a week. Got into my smokehouse and finished off my salmon and the moose and then went for the outside freezer. He destroyed our greenhouse and would have taken out our door, but I shot at him and he ran.”

“So he’s wounded?”

“Maybe. Not that it matters. He’s the devil, just waiting for us to step outside. Kids are terrified. The wife is hysterical. Had to bring the dogs inside.” He leaned back. “You know what it’s like to have seven malamutes living inside a two-room cabin?”

Dodge didn’t want to imagine.

“We’ve been living off the supplies in the house, but those are nearly gone. I’d rather gnaw off my arm than eat another can of Spam. Just get me close.” He moved over and reached for the door.

“Hold up, Spike.” Dodge came around, low along the canyon. “It’s illegal to shoot a bear from a plane.”

“He’s killing us!”

“I know. Let me see if I can chase him off.”

Dodge came in low, gunning his engine, and the bear looked over at him, rising now to greet the plane. He swiped at the tires.

“Told ya. He’s not afraid.”

“Right. Probably spent the summer lunching on the snacks at the Denali campgrounds.”

“Just get me in for a shot.”

“Let’s call Hank, get him out here.”

“We’ll be dinner by the time he gets here.”

Dodge banked and came around again. This time, he flew twenty feet off the beach.

“Are you crazy?” Spike shouted.

“Just hold on to something.” Because clearly, he’d lost his mind, but—well, Echo was back in his head. “Bears have a reason for everything they do.”

Below them, the bear landed on all four feet and started to lope.

“It’s working.”

Dodge slowed, then gunned the motor as he drew near the bear. It spooked and broke into a run.

Dodge pulled up, banked again, came around, and again buzzed the bear. Scared and alive was better than dead, although the thought of the animal wandering around wounded only to be attacked by a pack of wolves seemed inhumane. They should land and track it, put it down.

But first, Dodge had to take care of Spike and his family.

He followed the bear upriver a mile, two, then into the woods and out across the bushy tundra.

Then he turned back and landed again on the shore.