eric walks quietly past the sign, intent on something ahead of him. although still somewhat boyish in appearance, he's confident and resolute in attitude. his clothes have a distinctly western feel: lucchese boots, levis 501's, mahan cotton shirt. his down parka is unzipped in the sunny, windless, forty-degree afternoon.
lemalle digs through the camping goodies in the back of the land rover, many still in their packages. he helps himself to some sandwiches and a 12-pack of beer.
eric tries to stand. he cries out and falls into the powdery snow, clutching at his ankle.
the bear gets a muzzle full of the stuff. howling unhappily, it backs away, grunting and sneezing. greatly offended, its appetite gone, it lopes into the forest.
eric appears over a snowbank.
lemalle jumps back, startled, and pulls out his knife. he tries the door again. it wrenches open.
eric shoots a couple times, then backtracks and pulls corbett behind one of the rental cabins.
eric takes out the homemade flashbomb. he lights it, tosses it toward mitchell and covers his eyes. it explodes with a muffled pop and a bright flash of white light.
then, from somewhere close by, lemalle fires at them. eric stuffs the .357 in his belt and uses a brick to knock the padlock off the back door of the depot. he pushes corbett inside.
anne marie slides onto the seat.