Chapter 2The Thing That Mimics Us

The driver took a swig of water and pulled out his phone to show us a video.

"Look. That's a mimic bear."

"There have been a lot of videos online recently about these things attacking people."

"They say they stand almost ten feet tall and weigh nearly a thousand pounds. One bite can tear a grown man in half."

"And they're smart. Scary smart. They can mimic human movements."

"A while back, a college student on a graduation trip was lured in by one pretending to signal for help."

"By the time he realized something was wrong, it was too late. He couldn't outrun it."

As the driver spoke, a wave of relief washed over us.

We were lucky. If we hadn't realized it sooner...

"Lily, let's go. I don't feel safe here," Jess urged.

I nodded vigorously.

It was 2:25 PM.

We said goodbye to the driver and hurried towards the nearest town.

By evening, the weather had turned cool and overcast.

With the windows down, the breeze helped clear the lingering fear in our minds.

"Seriously, what are the odds?" Jess muttered. "We just wanted a nice trip, and we run into something like that."

She sounded annoyed, but her tone was much more relaxed.

I sighed. "Yeah. If it weren't for you, we'd probably be ghost stories by now."

Jess glared at me. "Don't jinx us!"

"Bang!"

Before she could finish, a loud noise cut her off.

The car started shaking violently.

"What's happening?" Jess panicked.

I gripped the steering wheel tight and managed to bring the car to a stop.

"I think we blew a tire," I said, checking the dashboard. Sure enough, the rear right tire pressure warning was on.

"Look, there's a repair shop right there!" Jess pointed ahead.

She scanned the surroundings nervously. No sign of the mimic bear.

"Let's go. We can't waste time."

"It's getting dark. It's too dangerous to stay out here," I agreed, driving the limping car to the shop.

A skinny man sat at the entrance. Seeing us, he grinned.

"Ladies, car trouble?"

Jess and I exchanged a look.

We both knew what this was.

We'd read about scams like this—shops scattering nails on the road to puncture tires and charge exorbitant fees.

But we were in the middle of nowhere, with no surveillance cameras.

We had no choice.

"How much for a patch?" I asked, suppressing my anger.

"Five hundred bucks. Cash or card?" The man's grin didn't waver.

"What? You—" Jess started to lunge forward, but I held her back.

We couldn't afford a confrontation here.

We paid the money.

"Do a good job," I said coldly.

The man pocketed the cash, beaming. "Of course! You're VIP customers. I'll fix it up real nice!"

...

Jess stomped off to scroll through her phone while I watched the man work.

I checked the time. We should still make it to town before dark.

Suddenly, Jess ran towards me, her face pale with terror.