Bear Blaze

1. Bear Blaze-2

“Cut! That was good, Jess. Real good. Knocked it right out of the park.”

“Thanks, Morris,” Jessica Andrews, local news anchor of New York City News, NYCN for short, rolled her neck to crack it, let down her hair, and took a deep breath. “Sometimes I don’t know why I bother saying this stuff.”

“It pays your bills, don’t it? Doesn’t mean you gotta believe it.”

“Astute observation, Morris. Sharp as always.”

The man behind the camera grinned and started to pack it up. There wasn’t much else to do, anyway; no one was hurt during the fender bender, not even a sprained pinkie.

But the news story had been there. It was almost too perfect, as far as NYCN was concerned: a local woman, eyes fixed on a large man walking down the street whom she claimed had yellow eyes and fur covering him from head to toe, ran a red light, swerved into a light pole, caused the car she cut off to slam on his breaks, which in turn caused the car behind him to rear end him, and eventually caused the local Shifter fire department to show up on the scene, wasting everyone’s tax dollars.

So she’d fabricated the title, Shifters, Good Samaritans or Neighborhood Menace? Her ratings would shoot through the roof.

Jess felt a pang of guilt at that – only temporarily, however. She wasn’t out to get anyone. She hadn’t gotten into television to push her beliefs. She didn’t want anyone to take her word as gospel.

She had gotten into newscasting to inform others to make their own decisions. She’d promised herself to be unbiased, to tell the news how it actually was, and to keep any sort of political spin out of things.

How quickly I lost those ideals, she knew. How long did it take me? A year? Six months? Was I a lost cause the first time I stepped in front of the camera with a microphone clutched in my hand?

Because she knew that the news wasn’t there to tell the truth. The news was there to make people feel a certain way, to make a quick buck, and to push whatever agenda was relevant.

It had disgusted her at first. Maybe in a way, it still did. But she wasn’t stupid. She knew the only way to succeed in this business, to pay her bills and put food on her table, was to play ball. She didn’t have to like it; she just had to do it.

What a world we live in.

She watched as the first responders finished up their jobs. A couple of the Shifters stood around, just watching the rest of the scene unfold. She recognized them: there was Chief Alexander McCready, Jesse Haley, who had been the talk of the town a year back when he’d wound up in a tussle had ended in the deaths of two Shifters and permanently crippled another; she still didn’t know what to think of that even though she’d reported on it; Samuel Carver, who as far as she could gather taught some of the classes where all of the Shifter recruits had scrubbed out for better or for worse, and finally, Thomas Buckner, a man for all intents and purposes just there.

He wasn’t new. He wasn’t involved in any scandals, wasn’t their leader, none of his family had died horrific deaths. He was just Tom Buckner, always driving the truck and keeping his head down.

There were other men, of course: Jim Ortega, John Forbes, Tanner O’Brien, Ryan Smith, that weren’t present. That made up eight members of the Forest, and those eight members had frequently been on Jess’s radar for the past year or so.

She didn’t care one way or another about Shifters. How long ago had their existence came to light? Five years? Ten? It didn’t really matter, not many had seemed surprised by their existence. They’d always been there, so what was the big deal?

Still, it was a hot topic: human rights, Shifter rights, were they the same? Should they be treated the same? Or not?

If anyone had asked Jess, in her official capacity on the subject, she would have given the standard PR spin that she wasn’t to comment one way or another, even if her agenda leaned a different way one week or the next.

In private? She couldn’t care less about if someone was Shifter or not. It didn’t matter to her. But the news, and her boss, and his boss, and on and up the chain demanded that she spin the news one way or another.

She remembered a year back when she’d interviewed a man named Crichton, who had put together a Shifter firefighter team made of outlaws and wanted men. In that case, she’d spun it that the Shifters were doing the right thing: they were going out of their way to save human lives.

After his transgressions had been brought to light, including faking fires and threatening to kill witnesses and other Shifters alike, NYCN had quickly spun the story into just how horrible Shifters could be. They’d been on that crusade for half a year before flipping back to somewhere in between: Shifters could be good, they could be bad.

It didn’t make for substantial news. It was more of the popcorn news everyone seemed to crave these days. There was no substance – but there was money. There was always money nowadays.

So Jess reported, whether she believed it or not, whether she wanted to or not, because in the end, it was all the same to her. If she didn’t report this junk, someone else would, and she would be out of a job and a paycheck. And she certainly couldn’t afford to be blacklisted in this business. Her career would be over if she decided not to report whatever news her boss told her to.

So here I am, reporting this trash. One week the Shifters are the good guys. The next, they’re New York City’s scourge. It never ends. It never will end.

Morris grunted. Jess looked over at him to see him nod towards the crowd.

There were a couple of angry men raising their voices.

“Should I record?” Morris asked. Jess hesitated a moment and then nodded. “You want to get in the shot?”

Jess contemplated. There could be a story here.

“Get ready,” she said, nodding again. “Roll in five, four, three, two, one.”

Morris started the tape.

“This is reporter Jess Andrews, here after the fender bender on 31st Street. Tensions have risen between the local ragtag Shifter fire department and the beloved citizens of New York City – but who is to blame?” she began, feeling the bile rise in her throat at how easily it came to her now on twisting her words to make her beliefs believed. Words like ragtag and beloved would make anyone sway to one side of this growing drama: Shifters versus humans.

She got out of the way and shook her head. Jess thought of the dollars and resolved herself to keep this going as long as she needed.

I’m hollow inside. I’m a sellout. All that matters is the money.

It didn’t take long for the situation to heat up. Jess wasn’t sure what caused it, but she understood enough to realize that for whatever reason, a couple of guys – who were probably drunk – didn’t like the Shifters standing there.

Chief McCready stood at the ready, blocking the rest of his men, but he wasn’t helped any, because the Shifter called Haley was already yelling and waving his hands. Carver and Buckner tried to hold the other man back.

“Get out of our city, Shifter scum!” the first man roared.

“This Shifter scum came out here to save lives! What the hell have you done today?”

McCready spun and roared, “Haley! Shut your mouth!”

“What’s it matter, Chief? These bigots already have their minds made up about us. No matter what we say, we’ll always be Shifter Scum to them.”

McCready said quietly – but not too quiet for Jess to hear, “But everyone else hasn’t. This is only going to cement beliefs in their head, one way or another.”

“I thought we didn’t play politics anymore.”

“Haley!” Buckner was saying. “Give it up, man.”

Jess breathed a sigh of relief. Things seemed to have heated up, but they were quickly diffusing. McCready was talking to the crowd, seeming to calm them – and then it all went to hell when one of the drunk men threw a beer bottle at McCready.

It missed by a good foot and smashed directly into Jesse Haley’s head. Glass and beer shattered everywhere, followed by a torrent of blood rushing down the big man’s face. He roared in anger or pain – Jess wasn’t sure which.

“We’ve just witnessed a beer bottle thrown at one of the Shifters – but was he provoked?” she asked, leaving the question up in the air. She didn’t offer an alternative – which would lead those watching to believe that the bottle thrower was, indeed, provoked. Somehow, he was the victim, not the Shifter bleeding everywhere for absolutely no reason.

Haley was lunging forward. The other three were holding him back, and despite all three of them and their large bulk, somehow they weren’t succeeding.

“Get out of here!” roared McCready. He turned to Haley. “Haley! Calm down! This isn’t what we’re about!”

But Haley wasn’t listening.

“A man taken by rage,” Jess said. Bile.

“Unable to stop his baser instincts.”

She felt sick to her stomach at what she was saying.

“Almost like an animal.”

She hated what she was saying – but she said it anyway.

“Here the police are.”

Jess watched as the police arrived in a cop car. Two officers hopped out, and Jess had done enough of her research on the Forest to recognize that one of the officers was Jesse Haley’s serious girlfriend, Kate Poole. Their relationship had been a hot topic about a month after the news story about Crichton and Haley had broke.

She placed a hand on Jesse’s chest and whispered to him. He seemed to calm down. The three men pulled him back, muttering their thanks to Kate.

“Shifter lover!” yelled a voice in the crowd. Another bottle flew out of the crowd and landed near Officer Poole’s feet, shattering.

Jess watched as the officer smiled and said, “I’ve got it now.” Jess imagined that a bottle thrown at Officer Poole and the words from the crowd would set Haley’s rage off again, but he merely nodded and said, “I love you.”

And the officers turned on the crowd and went to work: in moments, the drunk men who had now just assaulted a police officer were under arrest.

“And just like that, the men have been arrested for assaulting a police officer. But what caused this attack on another person? Was it simply dislike for Shifters, or was there something else done to these men that caused them to act this way? Stay tuned.”

The Shifters broke up and were walking towards Jess and Morris. The camera kept rolling. Jess had dealt with these men enough to know that asking for an interview would be met by nothing more than a scowl, or if she was lucky, a hell no.

Haley looked at her. Blood covered his face. He smiled.

“I hate you,” he said.

Behind him, Buckner looked like he was about to say something. Haley looked at him and for some reason, they both burst out laughing, and with that, the four Shifters climbed into their fire engine and were gone.

Morris smiled and congratulated her on what she’d done, but Jess just nodded without a word.

You’re terrible, she told herself – and it was true. She was. She’d given it all up for money and a career. She felt guilty.

And when they’d sent in the footage and her boss had called her and told her he wanted to move her to a more popular time slot, Jess smiled and forgot all about the guilt she’d been feeling earlier that day.