The Winter People
Page 31
Johnny made a gesture to Mike indicating two arrows, straight ahead. Mike nodded, understanding what he wanted. Mike notched two arrows simultaneously, lit their fuses, and let them fly straight out in front of them. At the same time Johnny fired two arrows so quickly to the right, they could have come off of one string. Johnny didn’t wait for the dynamite to explode. He fired two more arrows in quick succession in the same direction.
Mike took the cue and fired two more of his arrows a little further to the left of the first two he had fired. It was then that the first two arrows exploded with muffled thuds and kicked up clouds of spoiled snow. The creatures nearest to the explosions danced to the left but kept coming. At that moment, Johnny gunned his snowmobile and lurched forward to where the first two creatures he had shot had just winked out. Mike gunned his throttle and followed.
The third and fourth of the Winter People that Johnny had shot at disappeared in a white hot flash, just as the second set of explosions went off. The two creatures that had managed to sidestep the first two explosions couldn’t sidestep these and were thrown to the side by the force of the blasts. One of them, who was in between the two blasts, stood up and slowly melted away to nothing in the wink of an eye. The other stumbled to its feet and started coming after them again.
Fortunately for Mike and Johnny, the machines got up to speed before the Winter People could close on them and they squirted through the hole they had made. Once they were past them Johnny turned and headed to the South, keeping to the open fields instead of the trees. He knew it would take longer, but he also knew it was their best chance to stay alive. The creatures hated them now more than ever, and if they ever got their hands on them…Johnny trembled.
Johnny put himself low in the seat and kept the throttle floored. He wanted to put as much distance between himself and the others as he could. He knew it would only gain him a half hour at best, but even that would be welcome. He would need the time to warm up and get his wits back around him. Johnny was near to freezing and fatigue was on the verge of overtaking him. With all he had been through in such a short time, and the cold to compound it, Johnny was nearly spent. He wondered then how Mike was doing.
***
The explosion rocked the courthouse. Dulled by the snow piled up against the outside walls, it still reverberated through the building. Glasses and lamps shook with its force and Sarah could feel tremors through the floor. Then there was far off sound of thunks and clangs against the roof or the side of the building. Sarah even heard a window or two shatter somewhere upstairs.
“What the hell was that?” Tom wondered aloud.
“That was Nick.” Sarah replied.
“How do you know?” Tom pressed.
“I know.” Was all she said. And she did know. She could feel him. He had just blown up the gas station and had taken a bunch of those bastards with it. For the first time since Gary had come back alone she had hope. Nick was alive. She knew it. He was in a dark and wet place, tumbling.
Nick was fighting to breath, and Sarah coughed one as if it were her that was taking in the water. She could smell the putrid water all around her, and feel its cold seep into her bones. There was the disorientation as he tumbled over and around in the dark. The wonder when dim light shone on strange objects. And the pain when ragged bits cut into his flesh and exposed it to the filth he was floating in.
Sarah could feel it all. Nick was alive, but he was getting weaker. He was cold and wet, and he was tumbling. Then Sarah felt the sudden drop into an abyss. Nick was scared, so scared. And his lungs were burning for air. A hope. A light. Then demoralization. Sarah felt it all. The last thing she felt was a prayer for her from Nick, and then icy cold. Sarah snapped out of her fugue to see Gary and Tom staring at her, concerned.
“Nick’s still alive,” she said, “but he won’t be for long.”
“What? How do you…what are you talking about?” Tom asked.
“I felt it.” Sarah replied, and started to put on her snowsuit.
“I know you want him to be alive, Sarah,” Tom said, “but don’t be foolish.”
“He’s alive.” She repeated. “I have to go and help him.” And she continued to dress in her winter gear. Beside her, Gary was also gearing up.
“Sarah?” Tom pleaded. “Gary, what do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m going with her. I promised…” was all Gary said and continued to don his winter wear.
Tom turned back to Sarah, “Where, where are you going?”
“He blew up the gas station.” She replied. “He blew it up then ended up in a drain. He’s in the drain and tumbling over stuff. I saw something that looked like a spider.”
“Damn! That sounds like the treatment plant.” Gary said excited. Tom looked at him dumbfounded. “I worked there over the summer for some extra cash.” Gary explained, and then proceeded to put on his goggles.
“He’s under the ice.” Sarah continued. “He came out in a big void of water under the ice. He’s drowning. I have to go to him.” She demanded.
Tom tried to get his mind around this, “Okay Sarah, let’s say that he is drowning at the treatment plant.”
“That sounds like one of the big holding ponds that the water dumps into for final processing.” Gary interjected, now donning his gloves.
Annoyed with Gary’s acceptance of her delusion, Tom continued. “Sarah, if he’s drowning its already too late. You’ll just go out there and get killed by those things.” He tried to dissuade her.
Angry, Sarah defended, “I watch the Discovery channel! I know about near drowning! You’re not dead until you’re warm and dead! Isn’t that right doctor?”
Tom bit his lip. “Yes, that is right,” he admitted, “but that’s only if you can get the victim to the proper care. We don’t have anything we would need for something like that. And even if by some miracle we did revive him, after so long under water he would most likely have severe brain damage.”
Sarah had finished dressing for the cold, as had Gary, and headed for the garage. The last thing she did as she left the offices was grab the two flare guns and a box of flares. As she and Gary walked down the hall to the garage, she handed a flare gun to him and a handful of flares. Tom followed along protesting the whole way.
“I have to go,” Sarah said flatly, “he’s my brother.”
Finally, Tom acquiesced. He couldn’t stop her. “When you find him you’ll need to start CPR right away. And don’t stop until you get him here.” Tom offered. “And don’t bother to warm him. We’ll take care of that here. The CPR is the most critical thing for your brother.”
Gary paused at the workbench in the garage to grab a coil of rope and an ax. “We might need these.” He suggested. “We should just take one snowmobile so one of us can give CPR to Nick. Johnny’s has that thing behind it that he brought Hayden and Roscoe in on, that should work.”
“Good idea Gary.” Sarah replied. “You drive, and I’ll take care of Nick.”
Sarah and Gary stood side by side with the flare guns held before them as Tom opened the big door. They climbed the mound of snow to Johnny’s machine and Sarah stood watch as Gary checked the gas tank then started it. It grumbled to life almost instantly, and Gary was mildly surprised given the cold. Sarah climbed on behind him and wrapped one arm around his waist. In the other hand she held the flare gun. Gary had his tucked inside his coat pocket. Gary felt giddy warmth in his stomach when Sarah gave him a squeeze letting him know she was ready.
Even as the big door was closing, Gary hit the throttle and they eased forward, headed for the treatment plant. It was late in the afternoon and with the cloud cover and snow, it felt like twilight outside. Before them they could see the surreal orange glow of the gas station as it burned, reflected off the low lying clouds. Gary pointed the machine in that direction, down the main street toward the other end of town. He pushed the throttle as far as it would go, not only for Nick, but also for what else might be on the street with them.
Sarah kept her vigil up, searching the buildings and streets as they went by until at last the town gave way to a fenced in cluster of squat square buildings and flat areas. These flat areas were the ponds, she knew. And as Gary pulled up to open a gate large enough to drive a car through, she pointed to the first pond past the last building. Gary nodded and eased the snowmobile in that direction.
He pulled the snowmobile alongside the pond and killed the engine. Gary tested the ice that covered the pond gingerly at first, then with his full weight. It was strong. This was both good and bad. Good for them to walk on, bad for them to chop through. Gary took the rope and ax and followed Sarah out onto the ice. They stopped halfway out to the center and off to the right side.
“Here.” Sarah said, pointing to the ice.
And that’s where Gary started chopping with the ax. With each blow he landed, it reverberated and traveled back up the handle to his hands. After a short while, his hands were numb and he was exhausted from the workout in the cold. He handed the ax to Sarah and took out his flare gun to stand watch. After a while, Sarah handed the ax back to Gary.
They continued like this for several minutes until Gary started to see water. “Now what,” he thought, “it’s not like we can dive in there after him?” As Sarah widened the hole, Gary thought feverishly. What could they do? And that’s when he ran to the closest building. Hanging from hooks on the side of the building were large debris nets. He had used it to remove trash and animals that had fallen into the pond in the summer and hadn’t been able to get out. Gary plucked the net off the wall and returned to Sarah just as she finished with the hole.
Sarah saw Gary holding the net and understood. It looked like the nets on the end of a long pole that she had seen around the pool back home, only larger and much stronger. Sarah put a hand on the pole and directed it for Gary. Within a few short moments Gary felt something. He recognized the feeling as he remembered pulling a sheep out of this pond last summer. How the sheep had ever worked its way into the fenced in pond they never knew, but Gary had to get it out. He had also puked right after he had dragged it to shore.
Gary traced the outline of the body on the bottom of the pond until he found what he believed was the head. Then Gary bit his lip. Not a body. Not a body. Not a body he told himself. He glanced over at Sarah; half afraid that she had heard what he was thinking. If she did know, she wasn’t showing it. Gary sighed and focused on the task. It was Nick. He was trying to save Nick.
So Gary worked the net over Nick’s head and started to haul him up. He was so heavy it took the two of them pulling together to get him to the surface. He’d nearly slipped out of the net on several occasions, but Gary’s experience and quick reflexes kept him snagged. Finally, Nick’s head came to the surface. Gary put all of his weight onto the long pole to keep Nick at the surface, and Sarah reached down and grabbed onto the hood of his coat.
Gary released the debris net and helped Sarah to drag Nick’s lifeless shape out of the hole and onto the ice. It took everything the two could do to manage the dead weight, and Gary had nearly fallen in to the water himself. But they finally had managed to lay Nick on his back fully on the ice. His clothes were tattered and parts of his exposed flesh shown through in several places. Nick was a pale blue and his eyes were vacant orbs in his head. As the diminishing snow began to stick to him, they loaded Nick onto the litter attached to the back of the machine.
Sarah climbed on the litter with her brother and began the CPR motions, although the flex of the litter made the chest compressions useless. But she did not stop. Two breaths and thirty compressions, two and thirty, two and thirty she continued. Even as the snowmobile lurched forward she continued. Her face freezing in the biting cold and wind, she continued. With her eyes tearing as much from the wind as from what she was doing, she continued. She wouldn’t stop.
Sarah’s arms ached and she was light headed from the breathing, but she continued. And when the big garage door worked its way open, Gary and Tom literally had to pull Sarah off her brother so they could get him to the offices. They laid Nick across one of the office desks they had cleared off and Sarah finally allowed Gary to assist her with the CPR. Gary took over compressions while she breathed for her brother, one breath and five compressions, and so they went as Tom looked Nick over.
During compressions, Tom managed to get Nicks clothes off of him so that he was clad only in his soggy underwear. There were gashes and abrasions all over Nick’s body. Fortunately, none of them was bleeding right now. Next he laid blankets all over Nick and took the two space heaters from Hayden and placed them on either side of Nick. Tom knew that Hayden was at least alive, and would probably come around without too much trouble. But Nick was in bad shape.
It’s not as though Tom didn’t want to help Nick, he just didn’t know what to do. The man was dead. No heartbeat, no pulse, he was blue and nearly frozen solid. Tom guessed that his core body temperature had to have been around fifty degrees, and by all accounts, he had been this way for at least twenty to thirty minutes. The CPR was useless he was sure, but at least it kept Sarah busy.
Tom thought hard. He didn’t have an IV line or any fluids. He had no way to check his blood, or warm it for that matter. He had no oxygen, or ventilator, or trach tubes. He had nothing. The only thing Tom could do was to warm him. He had to get his core body temp up and see what happened. And blankets and space heaters would not be nearly fast enough. The only other way that Tom could think of was peritoneal lavage, but cutting this man’s belly open and pouring warm water in it, in this setting?
Almost instantly he shook his head no. “That was invasive. Flushing the peritoneal cavity with warmed sterile saline was far too dangerous,” Tom argued with himself, “and he didn’t even have sterile saline.”
“Nick was already dead, how much more could he do to him?” Tom replied to himself.
“No, I don’t have the supplies,” Tom rebuked.
“Boil some tap water. If he lives you can worry about peritonitis later.” Tom pressed.
“And what if he does recover? What if he starts to bleed out when the blood starts to circulate?” Tom countered.
“Use a needle and thread, paper clips, rubber bands, anything. Just keep him alive long enough to make it to a hospital.” Tom came back. And that’s when Tom decided it. He was going to cut this man open and pour warm water into his belly.
“Sarah,” Tom started, “the only hope we have is for me do peritoneal lavage and try to bring his core body temperature up. You need to know that I don’t have anything I need for something like this, so the word crude doesn’t even come close.” Tom explained.
“I don’t care Doctor,” Sarah replied, “He’s dead if you don’t do something, anything. You do what you have to and I’ll accept whatever happens. I just can’t, not do anything.” Sarah pleaded.
“Just so you know,” Tom continued, “I have to cut open his belly and lavage its interior with warm water. All we have is a knife for the cutting, and tap water for the lavage. If I do manage to bring him around and something goes wrong from the incision, I don’t have anything to deal with that. Also, there is a strong possibility of infection, organ failure, hemorrhage, any number of things.”
“I don’t care.” Sarah replied. “Just do whatever you have to.”
Tom nodded and went to the kitchenette where Sarah had made coffee earlier and put on the two largest pots he could find to boil. Then he took a large glass bowl full of water and placed it in the micro
wave. While those heated, Tom retrieved a large hunting knife from Hayden’s desk drawer and heated the blade with a flame from a lighter the others had brought back from the general store.
Once the knife blade had cooled some, Tom rinsed it with the alcohol they had also brought back. Tom stood over Nick with the large hunting knife in his hand, trembling. Jesus, he wanted a drink. Tom licked his dry lips and turned down the blanket to reveal Nicks abdomen. It was blue and unmoving, save for the motion of the CPR being done. Tom sighed and placed the knife blade on Nick’s stomach. He needed a drink.
CHAPTER 19
Johnny had skirted the woods and come up on Copper Creek from the South of town. The woods were alive with the depravity of the Winter People and so intent was Johnny on shutting out their thoughts, that he had nearly missed the soft “Thank you” that followed him from Donner. The warmth of that thank you filled Johnny with a renewed sense of purpose and conviction. He was no longer afraid of what the others could say, or had to show him. He no longer had any doubt about himself, or his gift.
And so Johnny decided he no longer needed to shut out their thoughts. In fact, he needed to hear them. He needed to know as much as he could about them. What he thought had been his main purpose was now complete and he realized that he had not one or two reasons for being. He had many. Johnny now knew that as soon as one task was done, there would be one, or two, or a dozen to take its place. Johnny’s life was for the soul purpose of using his gift to help other people. And right now, there were some people in Copper Creek that needed him in a bad way.
So Johnny opened up his mind and let them come on in. Their taunts no longer had a paralyzing hold on Johnny. No more could they torture him, or twist his mind with their perverse desires. Johnny could see clearly now, more clearly than he ever had. And as he listened to them, he actually felt sorry for them. Their entire existence was pain, the pain of their hunger. Johnny pitied them. And as if his pity was a magical thing, as if his lack of fear freed his spirit, they no longer wanted to be in his mind. It was now they that were trying to shut Johnny out.