There was a pause, and then a tomahawk flew down from one of the trees. However, it was not aimed at Lila Jean. Its stone head embedded itself in a log, near the base of the tree, handle standing erect at a forty-five degree angle.

Chase leapt down from the tree. Her knee buckled slightly as she landed, but she remained upright. Lila Jean saw a hole in Chase's left hip that wasn't there before. So, one of her shots had hit its target after all. Once again, the resilience of this girl was something to behold. Even the single spear wound Lila Jean had was enough to fog her mind with pain. She couldn't imagine how Chase must have been feeling.

The two girls stared at each other, uncertain what was to come next. The pile of cheerleaders lay in between them. “Ah didn't think you'd do it,” said Lila Jean.

“Not think...you do too,” agreed Chase. As a disembodied voice in the treetops, Chase had seemed quite threatening, but standing in front of her, Lila Jean could see Chase was barely standing. One stiff breeze might have been enough to finish her off. Blood oozed from her various wounds, soaking her clothes through. “You see? Us not need fight. You drop gun, mean you trust me. I drop axe, mean I trust you. Trust most big thing for peace.”

Lila Jean spat. “That's a mighty nice thought, an' it might even be true, but it's not the only thing. Reckon we also both need to WANT peace. Tell me why ah should want peace with th' lahks o' you?”

Chase shook her head. Through the night vision goggles, lit up with white and pale greens, she looked like a ghost. “It not make sense us fight. Like you say, us much same. Both hunt, both woods, both like cheer! Us should not fight. Think of fun us have out here if not fight.”

“Fun?” asked Lila Jean, surprised. “You don't want to stop at just not killin' each other? You think we can have fun t'gether now? Actually get along? Just drop everything an' be pals, just like that?”

Chase hesitated, wondering if she'd gone too far. Maybe Lila Jean thought she was overselling this. Regardless, she decided to answer the question with her honest feelings. “If choose friend or foe for hat girl, would much want have friend.”

Lila Jean bristled a little as she processed this. “It's Lila Jean,” she said absently, as she tried to sort out her feelings. Why'd this Chase girl have to make this so complicated? She hated complicated. It was so much simpler for Chase to just be her enemy, to just be her die hard family foe, to treat Lila Jean with the hostility appropriate from a Campbell to a Swindle. Simpler, and less frustrating. It kind of pissed her off, that Chase would muddle her first Campbell-killing with such things.

Lila Jean continued to look troubled for a moment, before bursting into a short, uncomfortable laugh. “How amusin'. You really think you an' me can be friends, after all this? Fergit about how ah feel...You 'spect me to believe YOU can just toss aside th' fact that ah shot holes in you an' got your boyfriend's butt whooped? That you can be pals with me after that, lahk nothin' happened? Ah do admit, your li'l 'nice' act had me goin' there, Miss Campbell, but you lost me with that 'friend' bit. You laid it on just a bit too thick.”

“Lie,” said Chase, trying the name out. “Lie, it waste if us kill. Waste if you kill me, waste if me kill you...when so much same. You know it true.”

“Enough. You ain't gonna sway me with your silver tonguery, you Campbell rat,” she replied. “Nothin' you can say is gonna keep you from gettin' what you got comin'.”

Chase closed her mouth. Her fists clenched, not in anger, but out of a sense of helplessness. What could she do to reach her? Was there anything? Was the only thing left to them...a violent death? It couldn't be...could it?

Lila Jean spat again. “Now that we've settled that, here's what ah perpose we do.” She looked at her gun, which prompted Chase to look at her tomahawk. “Ah suggest—an' keep in mind, this is pure suggesture—we count to three. On three, we make our move. Ah'll go fer mah gun, you go fer your tommyhawk...” She looked back at Chase. “An' may the fastest draw live.”

Chase tried to think of something to say but came up with nothing. What more could she do to convince her? If the words she'd already spoken couldn't do it, to keep trying would be a waste of energy. Precious energy. Energy that was leaking from Chase as if through holes in a sieve, dripping off her hand, trickling down her legs, pooling around her feet. She had no choice but to handle Lila Jean like she did the others. If she even could.

The two cheerleaders stood in silence for what seemed like a long time, sizing each other up. “You ready?” asked Lila Jean. Her throat sounded dry. Chase slowly nodded. “Alright then. One...” Chase tensed her legs, ready to jump. “Two...Three!”

Chase jumped. She flew through the air. Her arm reached out. Her fingers opened. Closed around the rough bark of the tomahawk's handle.

BANG.

All of it, she had done too slowly.

She hit the ground, rolled over a couple times, then stopped. She didn't move to get up. She didn't move at all. The blonde lay face down on the forest floor, blood already forming a puddle beneath her. The tomahawk's handle was clutched in her fist.

Lila Jean's knuckles were white on her rifle's barrel and trigger as she lay on her side on the cool, mossy ground. She exhaled, then inhaled. Once her heart stopped pounding, she stood up.

Gun pointed at her enemy's body, Lila Jean walked around the cheerleader pile to stand at Chase's side. She prodded Chase's prone form with her gun barrel. No reaction.

She felt a knot in her stomach. What formed it? Remorse? Regret?

Over what? Killing a Campbell? That was nothing to regret, it was something to celebrate. No. No, it had to be something else...right? Maybe she regretted the fact that the feud was over already? Yeah, that had to be it. Couldn't be anything else, really. She was merely kicking herself, because she didn't let Chase live long enough to breed and make more Campbells to be killed. Oh well. She did her best and there was no shame in that. Besides, a fresh throb of pain from her spear wound reminded her that Chase was a bit too dangerous to let live, anyway.

She looked at the motionless powerhouse for a moment and felt uneasy. She sure looked dead, but perhaps it would be prudent to make absolutely certain of it.

However, just as she moved to aim the rifle at the back of Chase's head, Chase popped up and yelled at her, tomahawk in hand. Blood streamed down her face and drooled from a new hole in her chest. Startled, Lila Jean stumbled backwards in surprise. She tripped over Junie Grievance's arm and fell on her back. As quick as she could, she sat up and re-aimed at Chase's face.

But the tomahawk was already leaving Chase's hand. Lila Jean nearly adjusted her aim to shoot down the projectile, but saw it was sailing high. There was no risk of being struck by it.

Had Lila Jean time to think about it, it would have occurred to her that Chase's aim ordinarily was not that bad. She might have noticed Chase was not looking at her, but instead, past her, and that her expression had transformed into one of pure terror. But Lila Jean was trapped in the moment. She could think of nothing more than the war she was waging. She took it as a miss and was happy to do so. She shot Chase again, this time in the stomach.

The impact of the shot threw Chase onto her back. Her head lolled to the side, and her eyes closed.

Lila Jean was shaking. Was it over? Only as the ringing of the gunshot faded from her ears did it occur to her that there was something odd about the way Chase behaved in those final seconds. But Lila Jean did not have the chance, or need, to ruminate on it long. At the sound of a heavy rustling of brush behind her, Lila Jean understood. Chase didn't miss her unintentionally. She was aiming at something. It just wasn't Lila Jean.

Lila Jean leapt up to her feet and whirled around. Her jaw went slack.

Standing in the bushes, on its hind legs, was a massive grizzly bear.

Easily nine feet tall. It's brown fur looked green through the night vision goggles, sharp fangs dripping with saliva. The tomahawk was embedded in the animal's skull, straight through its right eye. Fear seized Lila Jean with no resistance. She knew enough about bears to know that beneath that coat of fur was over six hundred pounds of solid muscle. In that mouth was strength enough to crush a bowling ball. In those arms was strength enough to separate a human head from its shoulders with one swing.

The beast battered her first with a guttural roar, a roar of pain and especially fury. The sound reverberated in Lila Jean's bones. Her eyes watered. She felt herself shrink at the power of this horrible, primordial rebuke. She felt herself become nothing in the presence of such a monster. The angry beast reared back a huge, heavy paw, then swung it at her like a clawed wrecking ball.

With shaking hands, she flung the rifle up and shot the bear. She had to imagine the bullet hurt the beast, but there was no way a mere bullet could stop the incredible, barreling force aimed at her.

WHAM. The paw hit her like a semi to the side of the body. Her upper arm took the brunt of the blow, shattering instantly. It could not absorb the entire scope of the paw's vast force, though, and Lila Jean felt a couple ribs crack as well. The impact also tossed her off her feet, where she collided hard with a tree, and slumped to the ground.

Amazingly, she had held on to the gun. As the bear rounded on her, she swerved the gun around and fired again. The bear recoiled but remained standing. Judging from how much angrier the bear seemed to get, the shot must have hurt, but not enough to kill the bear or drive it off. She tried to put a third bullet in it.

The hammer clicked, but nothing happened. She tried again. Empty. Empty, and no time to reload.

As the bear stomped over to her, her mind tore through her options. Run. Climb. Play dead. None of them realistically seemed like they would save her life.

The bear stopped in front of the girl. She stared up at it, frozen in terror. Tilting its head to look down at this pitiful, tiny human, it raised its paw for a second, final, swing. All Lila Jean could do was pray for a miracle.

She got one. Just as the bear was about to bring its paw down on Lila Jean, a figure leapt out of the darkness and onto the bear's back, wrapping its arms around the bear's neck. Chase?!

The bear roared in fury, turning away from Lila Jean to try and reach behind its back to get at its attacker. “Lie!” Chase called, ducking beneath its paws. “Shoot bear! Shoot bear!”

Lila Jean didn't need to be told twice. She had an extra clip in her backpack. Her hands went to remove it, but found she wasn't wearing it. Had it been knocked off by the bear? During the fight with Chase? She looked over where she and Chase had their duel by the cheerleader pile and saw it laying on the ground. She ran for it.

Chase climbed up to kneel on the bear's shoulders, wrenched the tomahawk free of the bear's eye, then chopped it into the bear again, this time in the dome of its head. The bear roared in pain and threw another paw at her.

Lila Jean slid onto her backpack and ripped it open, the zipper squealing. She rifled through its contents, heart racing. Chase climbed back up on top of the grizzly. Again, she yanked the tomahawk out of the grizzly's head and brought it down, this time aiming it at the bear's other eye. Shunk. With an eruption of blood and pus, she found her target. The bear gave another demonic howl.

“Him not can see, Lie!” shouted Chase, letting go of the tomahawk and leaving it embedded in the bear's face. “Not hard to shoot now-” WHOPPP! The bear succeeded in swatting her. Chase careened off the beast's shoulders. She hit the ground hard enough to bounce once before rolling to a crumpled, bloodstained stop.