Maya and Derek had been hiking for three hours when they heard it.
A low, deep rumble.
Derek grabbed her arm. “Don’t move.”
The bear stepped out of the trees—massive, brown, eyes locked on them.
“Run!” Derek shoved her back. “Go! Now!”
“Derek—”
“RUN!”
Maya stumbled as Derek pulled a hunting knife from his belt. The bear charged.
Derek slashed at its face. The blade cut its snout. The bear roared and swiped, claws tearing into Derek’s shoulder. He screamed.
“DEREK!”
“Get out of here!” Blood soaked his arm as he struck again.
The bear knocked him down. The knife flew from his hand.
Maya ran.
Branches whipped her face as Derek’s screams faded into silence. She stopped, gasping.
Nothing.
She couldn’t leave him.
Moving quietly, she crawled back. Derek lay motionless, covered in blood. The bear stood over him, circling.
Then she saw it—his chest moving. Barely.
He was alive. Playing dead.
Her mind raced. She couldn’t fight the bear. Couldn’t outrun it.
Then she remembered the car.
She ran back, tore open the trunk, grabbed a gas canister, rope, and a lighter—and ran again.
The bear was still guarding Derek.
Maya poured gasoline in a wide circle, leaving a narrow gap. She soaked the rope and laid it as a fuse.
“HEY!” she screamed, stepping into view.
The bear charged.
Maya ran through the gap. The bear followed.
She struck the lighter.
Flames raced along the rope. Fire erupted, trapping the bear inside a wall of flames.
It roared in rage.
Maya didn’t wait. She dragged Derek to his feet. He leaned heavily on her, blood soaking his shirt.
They stumbled through the forest and reached the car. Maya drove like her life depended on it.
Because it did.
They reached the hospital in twenty-three minutes.
Derek survived—sixty stitches, two days in recovery.
When he could finally sit up, he looked at her. “You came back.”
“Of course I did.”
“You saved my life.”
“You fought a bear with a knife,” Maya said. “We saved each other.”
He took her hand. “Marry me.”
She laughed through tears. “Ask me again when you’re not in a hospital gown.”
He did. Three months later.
She said yes.
The wedding guests laughed at the bear story, thinking it was exaggerated.
But Maya and Derek knew the truth.
Sometimes love means running.
And sometimes it means coming back—with gasoline and a lighter
