It’s like crack for these bears.”
“What the hell is this place?”
“We call it Grizzly Flats. I’m Magnus Ursus.”
Greg never studied Latin, but he thought he knew what that meant.
“Big Bear? Seriously?”
“I prefer Magnus.”
“Mind telling me what my friend is doing down there?”
Greg motioned to the pit. Marco spoke up before Magnus could.
“Dude’s got a screw loose, bro.”
Greg spun to face Magnus, waiting for his answer. Magnus stood up on his toes and waved to a girl in the crowd.
“Ursula, please come over and join us. Now.”
She emerged with a shopping bag and set it at Greg’s feet. Her blue eyes sparkled as she pulled out several honey bottles. Every one of them was shaped like a smiling little bear.
Greg took a step back and almost tumbled into the pit. Magnus grabbed his shoulder to stop him from falling, but Greg spun around behind him. He had his forearm wrapped around the old man’s neck before anybody in the crowd could react.
“Nobody move or he’s a dead man.”
Several of the men inched closer. Magnus brought his hands up to wave them off. Greg thought he could kill the crazy bastard if he had to, but then he and Marco would never get out alive. He dug his heels into the ground at the edge of the pit, tightening his grip around the old man’s windpipe.
“Have one of your men untie my friend.”
“Why don’t you do it yourself?”
The words were barely out of Magnus’s mouth before he pushed back with all of his might. The instant momentum sent them both plunging into the pit. Marco screamed as Greg slammed back-first into the ground. Magnus came crashing into him a second later, knocking the rest of the air from his lungs.
The old man grunted as he rolled onto his side and stood up. Marco took a swing and missed. The old man countered with a straight arm that sent him to the ground. Greg could see the bloodthirsty crowd lining the edges of the pit. He willed himself to breathe as he looked up. Magnus took a step forward and brought his boot hard into the side of Greg’s head. Cheers erupted from up above as Greg’s vision blurred, flickered, and faded.
Chapter Two
Greg twitched and stirred. He felt the ropes rubbing against the skin on his wrists and ankles, but knew he wasn’t on the trash pile. The smell was different this time, like campfire mixed with perfume. He lifted his head to look around when somebody giggled.
The girl with the bag of honey was down at the end of his cot. She twisted a washcloth into a bucket of water. He took one look at her face and knew that she was stoned out of her mind. But her eyes were the iciest shade of blue that he had ever seen. He felt drawn in by her peaceful gaze, trapped inside of the shy smile that slowly parted her lips.
She was in her early twenties, maybe a little younger. The rough tips of her work-worn fingers gently massaged the bottom of his foot.
“Rise and shine. That tickle?”
Greg let his head drop back to the pillow as she washed him with warm water. He was almost asleep again when he heard a familiar voice.
“That’s enough for now, Ursula.”
Greg turned back to look at honey girl. She gave his toes a little peck and stood up. There was a bear paw tattoo on her left shoulder blade. He traced her spine with his eyes as she sauntered out into the cool night air.
Magnus strolled around the cot like he was lost.
“Sorry to break up your little party.”
“I’m just glad you didn’t get here until after she licked all the honey off.”
“Keep cracking jokes, if you want. Just remember that your friend isn’t exactly enjoying the same amenities that you are.”
Greg strained against the ropes, but knew it was no use.
“Is he okay?”
“For now. The bears don’t usually come until after dusk. Unless it’s trash day, of course.”
Magnus chuckled and picked at his fingernails. Greg jumped right back in: “You can’t leave him down there all night.”
“I can, and I most definitely will. It all depends on you, Greg.”
“How do you know my name?”
“We know exactly who you are. I’ve had my eye on your cabin ever since you arrived in our neck of the woods. It’s not every day we get a celebrity up here.”
Bad Citizen Corporation was the last thing that Greg wanted to talk about at the moment. But, he was willing to try anything to save Marco from being eaten alive.
“How do you know about my band?”
“What band? I was talking about those people you saved down by the beach. It was all over the local news for a few weeks.”
Magnus held a folded newspaper up for Greg to see. It was a regional rag called The SoCal Sentinel.
“I’m just screwing with you. Everybody’s probably heard of your band by now. See for yourself.”
Magnus held the newspaper up for Greg to read. The page was open to a trashy gossip column. Greg checked the date. It was weeks old.
LA Buzz: What Happened To The ‘Punk Rock Cop’?
by Leslie Thompson, Staff Reporter
According to acquaintances, Greg Salem, a Virgil Heights police officer who burst into the spotlight last year, hasn’t been heard from in months.
Salem was involved in an on-duty shooting during which he claimed the underage suspect pulled a gun. He was put on leave. The weapon in question was never recovered, but the search for it led to one of the biggest gang busts in recent years.
He was back in the spotlight two weeks later when he rescued a couple of hostages during a tense beach standoff, which left one suspect dead. But Salem, who is also a former singer of LA-based punk band Bad Citizen Corporation, hasn’t been heard from since. Is he dead, or simply hiding out? Working undercover, or writing another album?
There were another dozen paragraphs, but Greg stopped reading. He already knew how that story ended. Magnus brought the paper down with a slap.
“Like I said, you’re famous.”
“She’s got a pretty good imagination.”
“Perception is reality.”
Magnus folded his arms
