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wagging, and then found a spot to do her business. Zach stood still, and when Savannah finished, she barked, and he took a bag out of his pocket and picked up the pile, tying a knot at the top.
    The past two days had revealed just how self-sufficient Zach had become. Garrett had tried to help him with different things, but Zach had told him to get lost. Finally, he’d backed off, and Zach had only asked for his help once—when he’d needed oregano for the spaghetti he cooked.
    In his bear form, he stood on his hind legs and clawed at a tree, then rubbed his back against it, marking it, letting other bears in the area know this was his turf.
    He sniffed around the peripheral edges of the forest some more, hoping to stay downwind from Savannah. That damn dog had an incredible sense of smell and had charged him yesterday. Thankfully, he’d seen her coming and had shifted back into his human form.
    After the explosion and waking in the hospital in Seattle, Washington, the government had set him up in a really crappy apartment down in south Seattle, right by the airport. So close, in fact, his bed shook depending on what way the planes took off. Shortly after arriving there, he’d felt something building within him, almost like another force growing, wanting to take over his body. To fight it, he’d worked out relentlessly, thinking perhaps it was a level of rage he didn’t understand, anger at being discharged, being relocated to Seattle, and the extreme hatred for his overseers and what his life had become.
    Imagine his surprise when he sat in his apartment and one moment he was just an average guy, then the next, a black bear.
    Needless to say, panic had ensued as he’d stared at his reflection in the blank television screen. He’d stared into the same tawny eyes he saw every morning in the mirror, yet, a black bear had gazed back at him, a light-yellow glow hugging his fur.
    He’d been so freaked out and panicked, he’d roared, and then suddenly, he’d returned to his human form. As he’d run his hands over his naked body, he’d noticed nothing different. He’d looked human, his breath had come in short spurts as his panic had receded, and the clothes he’d been wearing had been lying in tatters to his right.
    A loud knock had sounded on his door, and he’d looked around hoping whoever it had been would go away.
    “What the hell’s going on in there?” the apartment manager, Frank, had yelled.
    Garrett had stared at his clothes and glanced back over at the television, seeing his reflection once again. Yes, he’d been human and not a bear.
    “Garrett!” Frank had screamed.
    He’s not going away .
    He’d run into the bedroom and plucked some sweats from the floor, then moved back into the living room. Panicked, he’d turned on the television, found Animal Plane t , and muted i t .   Taking a deep breath, he’d opened the door.
    “What’s up, Frank?”
    “I heard something,” Frank had said, trying to look over Garrett’s shoulder.
    At age sixty, Frank stood at a thin five-foot-six with beady black eyes and a completely bald head. He’d also been retired military and worked for Garrett’s keepers, the government that had issued the experiment that had left him with the odd ability to change into a damn bear. “It sounded like a … a dog, or bear, or something pissed off.”
    Stepping to the side, Garrett had wiped sweat from his forehead as he’d motioned for Frank to enter. “I was doing some push-ups and watching some television.”
    Frank had gazed at the T.V. and then around the room again. “You know I got a no pets policy.”
    He’d nodded. “Yeah, I know, old man.”
    Garrett had had no idea if Frank knew of his ability, but had figured it would be best not to ask. How would that conversation have gone? Hey, man, did you know I can turn into a bear? He hadn’t seen that working out too well.
    “Okay, soldier. Just keep it down in here.”
    “Yes, sir,” he’d mumbled as he shut