The Winter People

by Bret Tallent

  Nick lowered himself, feet first, into the hole. He risked a glance back at the inflamed doorway and saw them, waiting. The orange of the fire reflected off of them, their eyes glimmering, the light dancing off of their teeth. There was anticipation on their faces, longing. The cries had stopped now and below him, Nick could hear the sound of running water. Then there was the dry shriek of tearing metal and Nick looked up to see the corrugated tin of the roof peeling away. Urgency welled up in him and he let go of his grip.

  The tin roof came away just then and four toothy grins filled the opening. Snow fell into the garage in large clumps, and so did four ghost-like figures. They sprang around the room in wild frustration and finally settled in on the tiny opening in the floor. The hated man thing’s stink was all over it and they screamed in contempt. Behind the receding wall of flames, the others joined them.

  All the while, unknown to any until it would be too late the flames had worked quietly at the hoses to the acetylene and oxygen tanks. Unrestricted, the hoses began to flop wildly around the room, issuing forth their contents. The movement caught the attention of the four figures standing near the drain and they stared at it dumbfounded for a moment. Suddenly a realization came over their faces that quickly turned to fear, then terror, then was erased completely by the explosion that leveled most of the building.

  Nick dropped away into an abyss, distance immeasurable. Unprepared for it, he landed in a bone jarring thud on concrete. His mouth clacked shut and his knees snapped back and gave way to his weight and momentum. Nick rolled backward and down a fairly steep slope, launching him out into space. He landed on his back in icy water and it knocked the wind out of him.

  Blind and in a totally foreign world, he panicked. He couldn’t seem to get his feet under him and it was impossible to tell which way was up. A strong current carried him along and occasionally he would bounce of a side. Nick struggled and finally found air. He sucked it in and repulsed at its smell, and the taste it left in his mouth. But, his panic slowly began to ebb.

  It was then that an explosion above rocked Nick, reverberating painfully in his ears and causing them to ring. It echoed through the tunnel and followed him as the current carried him away. He felt like flotsam, bounced around by rough seas to be cast up on some lifeless lump of land.

  The flow carried him along with increasing speed and depth. Nick struggled to keep his head above the putrefaction and fight the chill settling into his bones. The foul water twisted and dropped, following the confines of the tube. It bubbled and seethed, alive with its debris. Suddenly, Nick was dumped out into an open room, tumbling over odd shapes and strange textures.

  Around him there was a thin veil of light. It was barely enough to make out the shadows of the shapes around him. He was in some type of building with machinery, its whine perceptible even above the roar of the water. It registered then that he was in some kind of sewage treatment plant, and along with that, registered a hope. He had escaped.

  “But to what end?” His mind asked him as he tumbled over rough cylinders that grabbed at him and put little gashes in his clothes. Nick struggled to grab onto something, anything, but the surfaces were too steep and rough, and his momentum too swift. His hands opened up in a myriad of painful gashes and burned from the vile water touching the wounds. He’d lost track of how many times he’d tumbled, and over what, and finally fell into a large vat.

  Floating in its center like a giant spider spewing forth webbing was a large suction pump circulating the water as chemicals were added. Nick went under several times and came up gagging, spitting out the vile water he’d swallowed. Nick tried to get to a side and climb out, but numbness had overtaken him. He was sluggish and weak.

  Then an undertow grabbed hold of his legs and jerked him under entirely. It shot him into another tube, nearly full this time. This tube was much steeper and he felt the skin peel off of him in several places as he came in contact with the walls. Nick managed one last breath before the current engulfed him, scraping most of the skin off his chin on the tunnel ceiling as he did so.

  Suddenly, he had the sensation of free falling and the water had grown noticeably colder. From behind his eyelids he could see a distant soft glow. Nick risked it and when he opened them, his eyes ached from the brightness. He was in a vast area with no concept of his surroundings, any top or bottom, depth or width. There was only the light. It was a beautiful light, soft and brilliant at the same time.

  Nick floated toward it, his lungs aching from their denial of air. Out of necessity he forced his limbs to move and propelled himself toward the light. He swam up to it to embrace it, and welcome it. But the light at the end of his tunnel was his grave marker. He thumped against the ice that covered the surface; that covered him. He wanted to laugh.

  Nick’s mind swam in the irony of it for only a moment then everything started to get dim. The light above, his thoughts, his awareness, the burning in his lungs, everything dimmed. His last cognizant thought was a prayer for Sarah. In the end, Nick never knew which took him first, the cold or the lack of oxygen. He didn’t much care either.

  CHAPTER 18

  Mike pulled himself up off the floor and staggered over to Johnny. Neither one spoke. The situation was so obscene, so absurd, that no words would do. Johnny gave Mike a commiserate nod then turned away. He turned to peer over the railing and held his flare out to light the scene. Mike moved up beside him and did the same.

  It’s not that it was any less gruesome downstairs than up, or that there were fewer bodies. There were in fact more. It’s just that Mike’s mind couldn’t process any more. He had been overloaded to the point of numbness. Mike could just stare blankly at the carnage below and he was thankful for it. So was Johnny, he needed him.

  As Mike and Johnny surveyed the room below, they recognized a familiar shape lying across the remnants of a couch. It was Barbara. She did not seem to be mutilated, as the blood in her house had led them to believe. Instead, she just appeared to be sleeping. Mike realized that it must have been someone else and not Barbara. A glimmer of hope crossed his face.

  Mike raced past Johnny down the stairs toward her, his heart pounding. He climbed over and around the frozen remains of much of Copper Creek, oblivious to them all. He was totally focused on Barbara. In the back of his mind he knew he was being foolish but he couldn’t help himself. There she was, and she needed him.

  Johnny still stood on the stairs and followed Mike’s progress with his eyes. But in his mind he heard the pleas from all around him.

  “Help us Johnny, we need you.” The voices pleaded. “Help us Johnny, It’s so cold. It’s so cold and dark here Johnny. Don’t leave us again Johnny. There are more now, many more. And we all need you. Don’t let them take us Johnny. Please?”

  “I will.” He replied under his breath.

  “Johnny!” Mike called out. “I’m going to take Barbara back to Hayden. I can’t leave her here.” He said with tears in his eyes. He didn’t wait for a reply but instead lifted her body to his right shoulder. Mike dropped his flare as he did so and it landed in the middle of a tangled mound of corpses. Mike only barely noticed, as he was intent on his cargo and getting her up the stairs.

  But Johnny noticed. He saw it fall near the faces of Dave Burke and Vivian Bryce. He saw the looks of horror and surprise frozen on them. He saw the frosty white of their eyes, clouded by the cold. Then he saw the light start to dim and he realized the flare was going out. So Johnny grabbed another from his pocket and lit it off the first before it died out. He tossed the spent flare over the railing and turned to provide light for Mike to climb the stairs with his load.

  “Get her strapped to your snowmobile.” He said to Mike as he came up the stairs, struggling with Barbara’s weight. “I’ll take care of this,” motioning to the cabin with his head. “And hurry, they’re coming and we don’t have much time.” He finished.

  Even as Mike passed him Johnny took the bow from his shoulder and a kerosene tipped arrow from th
e quiver on his back. Johnny lit the arrow on the flare and pulled it back on the bowstring. The acrid scent of the burning kerosene filled his nostrils and Johnny breathed deeply of it. It felt clean to him. Johnny let the arrow fly and it pierced the drapes on the far wall and embedded in the wall between the front door and the living room.

  The drapes lit instantly and the fire lapped its way up the wall. Bits of the burning drapes floated and flitted around the room catching furniture on fire as it landed. There was so much wood in the rustic cabin that the lower level was ablaze in a matter of minutes and the heat forced Johnny back. He backed away from the growing blaze toward the door, the smoke stinging his lungs. But Johnny didn’t mind, it was a cleansing thing.

  Mike strapped Barbara’s lifeless form to the back of his snowmobile with tie down straps from the cargo area. As he cinched them tight, the wind began to change. It picked up in ferocity and volume, and in it he believed he heard hatred. It screeched and howled, and protested his every move. Mike knew that they were coming, he could feel it. And when Johnny put his hand on Mike’s back, Mike very nearly jumped out of his skin.

  “We need to go, now.” Johnny said above the wind’s wail.

  “Don’t wait for me,” Mike replied, “I’ll be right behind you.” And even as Mike pulled away from the cabin-tomb, the flames leapt at him from the ruined doorway. Mike followed Johnny back the way they had come, to roughly the center of town. Again he pulled up beside Johnny and stopped. Johnny leaned close to Mike so he could be heard above the wind and the snowmobile’s engines.

  “Keep your engine running,” he advised Mike, “we are going to be leaving in a hurry. They’re coming for us now. I’ll try to keep them off of us while you torch the town. Open up the buildings first with the dynamite then send a fire arrow to start them up. Use a flare to ignite them. And if you see any of them coming for you, use a fire arrow on it.”

  Mike nodded and reached for a flare from his pocket. He lit it and wedged it in his handlebars. Then Mike wedged a quiver of arrows on each side of the cowling. He took the bow from over his shoulder, notched a dynamite arrow, and lit the fuse. As he pulled the arrow back against the string he began to tremble. Fear washed over him and he couldn’t seem to hold the bow still. He finally pointed it in the general direction of a cabin and let it fly.

  The arrow fell short of the cabin and buried itself deep in the snow. “Fuck!” was all he said then he grabbed another one. A moment later the snow erupted in a huge cloud that was whipped into a frenzy by the wind, and partially obscured Mike’s vision. The report from the explosive rang on Mike’s eardrums but was muffled by the snow and the wind. “I’ve got to do better than that.” He chided himself. He didn’t have that many of the dynamite arrows, and it was a lot harder to shoot them with his gloves on than he realized.

  Mike notched the second arrow and lit it. This time he had settled down somewhat and his aim improved. The arrow sank into the wall just below the roof of the cabin directly in front of him and Mike watched intently as the fuse sparkled down into the stick of explosive. Mike instinctively turned away with the flash of the explosion, and after its report turned back to see bits of wood and other debris littering the pristine white of the snow. It looked like a bomb crater, scorched and lifeless, but Mike knew it was just the cabin below the snow line. As he looked closer, he could see bodies in the ruin and he had to look away. He wouldn’t think about that he decided.

  Mike grabbed a kerosene soaked arrow and notched it in the bow. When he touched it to the flare it lit up brightly for a moment then decreased to a steady burn. Black soot drifted off the burning rag like tainted snowflakes, carried off in the wind. Mike launched it at the ruined building before him and it disappeared into the dark hole in the snow. As he watched, an orange-red glow started to fill the hole then Mike saw flames starting to peek out over the sides. Satisfied, Mike reached for a dynamite arrow.

  Johnny was setting up his arrows and a flare much as Mike had done when he hear the first explosion. He knew that Mike had missed, even without “seeing” it, because of the sound. He knew that Mike was scared, but hell, he was too. But he also knew they had to do this. He only hoped Mike could pull it together, and keep it together, until they were done. And as if in answer, Johnny heard the second explosion and he smiled under his facemask.

  Johnny notched a fire arrow in his bow, and waited. He closed his eyes and let his mind scan the streets. That’s when Johnny saw them emerging from the trees along the path they had taken to get here. There were four of them, and they were closing quickly. Johnny had to wait until they were close enough that they couldn’t sidestep the arrows. It would be close.

  Boom! Another cabin had been destroyed.

  The four Winter People moved quickly and deliberately toward Johnny, unafraid of the two puny humans. Johnny ignited his arrow and let it fly, and just as quickly notched a second, lit it and let it go as well. By the time he had let the fourth arrow sail, the first one had hit its mark, and so had the second. The lead creature and the one to his left flashed out in a brilliant white and were gone. But the other two sidestepped so quickly that the arrows meant for them buried themselves harmlessly in the snow between them.

  Boom!

  They now picked up their pace and were moving at a blinding speed toward Johnny. He shot another arrow and nailed the third creature in the chest only fifty feet away. Scrambling, Johnny notched another arrow and was barely able to get it away as the fourth creature leapt at him. The heat of it winking out just a few feet in front of Johnny singed his hands and his face beneath the facemask. But Johnny only blinked it away, as he saw two more creatures moving along the tree line to the South.

  Boom!

  Then Johnny saw five more of the unholy beasts moving along the tree line to the North. Things were getting real bad, real fast. Mike still had to destroy six or seven more cabins, and Johnny knew it.

  Boom!

  But, he was getting faster at it Johnny admitted and let a fire arrow sail at the nearest creature. Left, left, right, left, right, left, left the arrows flew, all but the last one hitting its mark. “Damn.” Johnny muttered to himself and grabbed another arrow. He was running out. He only had a handful left.

  Boom!

  Johnny took out the last of the five only yards from him and sighed with relief. But there was little time for sighing, as three more Winter People emerged from the trees at the far end of town. They sprinted toward Mike in a haphazard course, making them difficult to target. They were also putting Mike between themselves and Johnny so he couldn’t have a clear shot.

  Boom!

  Mike didn’t see them, Johnny realized and panic welled up in him. Johnny took aim over Mike’s back as he bent down to get another arrow, and let another fire arrow fly. Mike saw the arrow fly over his head and turned to his right in time to see the first of three creatures flash out of existence. He notched his fire arrow, lit it, and took aim at one of the remaining two monsters. The creature didn’t need to sidestep it as it was a complete miss, and Mike cursed himself. So Mike did the only thing he could think of, he ducked down on his seat and let Johnny take care of them.

  As soon as Johnny finished with the two remaining creatures heading for Mike, he turned on his machine to face the four others that were approaching from the other end of town. They were using the buildings that remained as shelter while they moved upon them. Johnny let the fear that had worked its way into him seep out and focused on the creatures. He closed his eyes and lit an arrow. He waited patiently for a moment, and then let the arrow fly.

  It struck the creature squarely in the chest as it rounded the corner of a cabin.

  Boom!

  Johnny did not open his eyes. He bent down quickly and reloaded his bow. He let another arrow fly and it hit the second creature in the eye as it peeked around a corner.

  Boom!

  Johnny would not let himself be distracted by what Mike was doing. He had let his gift take over and lead him. Some
thing he should have done before, but was either unwilling, or unable to do it. Now, he saw that it was the only way. He loaded another arrow and paused. This creature was not as brave as its brethren, and there was less cover for it as Mike was making an inferno of the town of Donner Colorado.

  Boom!

  And in the flash of the dynamite, the creature lunged as fast as it could toward Johnny and Mike. But Johnny was ready for it. He dipped the arrow tip to the flare, ignited it, and let it sail. Without missing a beat, Johnny pulled another flare from his pocket, lit it, and wedged it into his handlebars next the dying remnants of the first flare. Behind him, he knew that Mike had done the same. There was a brief lull in the wind just then, a moment of indecision. The pause was peaceful to Johnny. He was lost in his gift.

  Boom!

  The explosion not only splintered the framing of a cabin, it splintered the peace that Johnny had for that brief moment. That’s when he saw them. Not two, or three, or five, but fifteen or twenty of them. From all sides they came, and Johnny suddenly felt trapped. He had a wall of fire behind him, and a wall of perverse hatred before him. And only three arrows left.

  Boom! The last cabin was leveled to ruin and Mike quickly followed that arrow with a fire arrow. The entire town was ablaze and Mike was sweating beneath his clothing from the heat. He was almost giddy from the destruction he had wrought, but then remembered why he had done it. As Mike turned to regard Johnny, he saw the movement at the edge of his vision. Wisps of snow moved manlike among the trees and in the open field all around them.

  Mike was a piss poor shot, he knew, he could barely hit the buildings he had fired at. So what he saw now dropped his mood like a lead weight. He was useless with the fire arrows at these types of targets he decided and reached down and handed the four or five he had left over to Johnny. Johnny looked at him confused for a moment then took the arrows. In return, Johnny handed him his entire quiver of dynamite arrows, which he had not used. Mike was happy about that, as he didn’t think he would need to be as accurate with them.