Devil's Pass by Sigmund Brouwer Read Free Book Online Page B

attention.
    â€œBut I didn’t bring you here simply to tell you how much I loved you all. Being part of your lives was one of the greatest achievements of my life, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything, but being there for all your big moments meant that I couldn’t be elsewhere. I’ve done a lot, but it doesn’t seem that time is going to permit me the luxury of doing everything I wished for. So, I have some requests, some last requests. In the possession of my lawyer are some envelopes. One for each of you.”
    Webb glanced at Mr. Devine, who stood at the side of the room holding envelopes fanned out like playing cards.
    â€œEach of these requests, these tasks,” David continued, “has been specifically selected for you to fulfill. All of the things you will need to complete your task will be provided—money, tickets, guides. Everything. I am not asking any of you to do anything stupid or unnecessarily reckless—certainly nothing as stupid or reckless as I did at your ages. Your parents may be worried, but I have no doubts. Just as I have no doubts that you will all become fine young men. I am sad that I will not be there to watch you all grow into the incredible men I know you will become. But I don’t need to be there to know that will happen. I am so certain of that. As certain as I am that I will be there with you as you complete my last requests, as you continue your life journeys.”
    On the television screen, he lifted up his glass again.
    â€œA final toast. To the best grandsons a man could ever have. I love you all so much. Good luck.”
    The video ended and his grandpa was gone.

ELEVEN
    NOW
    It didn’t make Webb feel any better that Sylvain had been correct in saying it wouldn’t take long for Brent Melrose to find him.
    When a kid on a mountain bike approached Webb on the path through the trees, Webb was thinking about bears. And how all his previous ideas about cleverly climbing a nearby tree to escape a bear were not so clever after all.
    First of all, Webb knew that grizzlies can’t climb trees, but black bears can.
    That was good. If you have a choice between out-climbing a grizzly or out-climbing a black bear, it’s the grizzly you want to out-climb. Grizzlies are huge—not that black bears are tiny—and more unpredictable and bad tempered.
    Webb also knew that if you’re attacked by a female grizzly it’s better to play dead. But with male grizzlies, you are supposed to fight like crazy and hope for the best. Hit them on the nose, scream and kick. Prove to the male that messing with you is a mistake.
    As if a 150-pound human is going to make a 600-pound grizzly think that it’s a mistake to get into a fight. Sure. And Elvis is still eating donuts, and the Toronto Maple Leafs are going to win a Stanley Cup one day.
    But second—and to Webb, this was the crucial issue—how do you know whether you are being attacked by a male or female grizzly? Yes, if the grizzly is with a couple of cubs, go ahead and assume it’s female. Other than that, how are you going to know? Wait until you are on the ground trapped underneath it and then reach down and see if there’s anything to grab?
    Like that would put a male grizzly in a better mood.
    All Webb’s research about bears in the north, at least when it came to trees, had been wasted though.
    Norman Wells wasn’t very far south of the tree line, the point in the Arctic where trees won’t grow.
    The spruce trees on the path were barely higher than his head, and the trunks of the trees were skinnier than his arms. Climbing to the top would only put him at the perfect level for a bear to chomp on his butt.
    Turns out, too, that Webb should have been more worried about the kid on the mountain bike.

    The kid, who looked about twelve, stopped in front of Webb. Short dark hair. Freckles. Jeans. Blue hoodie. And attitude.
    â€œHey,” Webb said. He