It was sometime in the late afternoon when Mark liked to take a nap. The silhouette in the doorway looked familiar but didn’t manage to rouse Mark’s attention until it spoke. “Get out of bed, you lazy slacker!” the gruff voice of Pete Mitchell insisted. “Get your clothes and pack on and meet me out front, we’re getting out of here.” “But boss, my ankle,” Mark blurted though he was only half awake. “Yes, please, bring your ankle with you,” Pete growled before slamming the door and stalking downstairs to the common room. Pete had bottles of water in all his pockets which gave away the fact that he was leaving to those gathered in the room. Big John led the charge to action by stepping around the bar to intercept Pete before he could exit the inn. “Where are you going?” he asked threateningly. “Out of my way, Big John, unless you’re looking for trouble,” Pete challenged. “Me and my partner are getting out of this town right now.” “But what about the bears?”
