Aspen Vale: A Tale of the Gone

by Lopeman, Kenneth

  Kyle was aghast. “We don’t let people rise as goners! We burn our dead, same as you do.”

  “But I thought you said you desired everlasting life with your Lord?”

  “Not as a goner!” Kyle paused, mentally looking for the words that would make the older man understand. “You said you believe that men have spirits… it is that spirit that dwells with the Lord.” Kyle mentally cursed himself for saying “the Lord” again. It was habit; he had been saying it all of his life. But again…the meaning of that phrase was so different here.

  Roger seemed to be digesting this. “That makes a lot more sense than what I had imagined of Jezzites. So what are the Gone, then? Are they the souls of evil men and women, not worthy to dwell with your lord?”

  “They’re just goners,” said Kyle. “They’re like… it’s like a disease. If you catch it while you’re alive, the disease kills you. And then it takes over the body. When you see a goner, you’re not seeing the person you knew anymore. You’re seeing the diseased body that is left behind. And you have to keep that sickness from spreading.”

  “A very apt description,” said Roger. “I must say, that is far more reasonable a belief than what I’ve been hearing about your people.”

  “That much I believe,” said Kyle. “What have you heard?”

  Roger shrugged and smiled. “That you sacrifice cattle and young women to Lord Jezias, worship the Gone underground, and eat every unbeliever you come across if you think you can get away with it.”

  Kyle snorted. “Please tell me you’re making that up.”

  “One of those was made up,” admitted Roger, smiling. The old man made as if to stand. Kyle quickly stood and helped him to his feet. “Thank you, son. The one good thing about getting this damned old; if I rise as a goner, I sure as hell won’t be doing it quickly!”

  “I suppose not,” Kyle said with more mirth than he felt. “I didn’t know you believed in Hell.”

  “Believe in hell? What do you mean? It’s just a word,” said Roger, confused.

  “Never mind,” said Kyle, suppressing his sigh. “Do you need any help getting back to your rooms?”

  “Don’t trouble yourself. I got here by myself, and I reckon I’ll get myself back one way or the other,” said Roger. “I will see you at the council meeting, tomorrow?”

  “You will. Scout Captain Larkin has asked me to share my story with the entire council.”

  “We expected as much. Tomorrow, then.”

  “Tomorrow. Sleep well,” said Kyle. The old man shuffled his way into the hallway. The Kenoshan watched him long enough to make sure he wasn’t going to fall over, and then closed his door.

  Chapter 6

  “There may be a problem.”

  “And hello to you, too, Paulson. How is your day going?”

  “There is a lot of activity in the larger town. I don’t know what it is. And I can’t go in; there is someone from the smaller settlement there, apparently. My face is well known there; they’re suspicious of strangers. If I’m recognized…”

  “Do you think they suspect?”

  “Everything? No. But something IS going on there. And if they decide they need to fortify, it will taint the results, won’t it?”

  “Damn… I’ll see about moving up the time table. It’s time for you to get out of harm’s way.”

  “Don’t worry about me. I already have an observation post ready. Let’s just hope it’s not too late.”

  “Is there any sort of ceremony at the start of these things that I should know about?” Beaupre asked.

  Jake shook his head. “Nah. When Townsend first became Mayor, he tried to set up something where we spent five minutes reminding everyone what we had talked about the meeting before, but that never came to anything. As Jay said, ‘we were all there last time, we know what we said, and some of us have real jobs to get back to.’”

  Beaupre laughed. “I like that attitude. Getting anything done in Jefferson is usually a headache, with all the prayers and pomp.”

  “Prayers? I think the Mother has better things to do with her time than to listen in while we decide what fields to plant,” said Jake. “Are you ready for this?”

  “Yeah,” the Kenoshan said. “Let’s get this over with. I hate talking in front of people.” Jake nodded, and opened the door to the little room Beaupre was staying in. His dog made a noise as if she wanted to join them. “Stay, River,” he said. “Watch over the place.” The dog whined, jumping onto the mattress and laying her head on a blanket, giving the two men a pathetic look. Beaupre shook his head and left the room. Jake closed the door behind them, smiling to himself. Apparently, his home valley did not have a monopoly on opinionated dogs.

  It was only a short walk to the council chambers. The other councilmen were already seated. Roger was dozing slightly, while Carpenter, Marolt, and Townsend seemed to be in some sort of discussion with the ambassador from the Ranch. It quickly ended when the two men walked in. “Scout Captain Larkin,” said Townsend stiffly. “You have had an opportunity to speak with this fine Ranger from our Kenoshan allies?”

  “I have,” said Jake, looking through the Mayor. “He has information that I believe you must hear for yourselves.”

  “Well, we figured that,” said Marolt, finding his chair. “We just hope that the time that we’ve lost due to his insistence on talking to you first is time that we can get back.”

  “As do I,” said Lefton, giving the Kenoshan a hard look. “And I’d also like to know why you didn’t come to the Ranch first, given our ties to your settlement.”

  “Again, my apologies,” said Beaupre. “But my instructions were specific.”

  “Don’t be angry with him for following his orders,” Jake interjected, holding his hands up to placate the ambassador. “It’s the sort of information that could cause a real panic. Simon Sczspanski trusts me, and he is not a man to whom trust comes easily.”

  “Jake’s right,” said Carpenter. “And if he’s anything like me and Jake, he’d want his instructions followed to the letter.”

  “Fine, fine,” said Townsend irritably. He turned to Beaupre. “Out with it, though. I don’t like the word ‘panic.’”

  Beaupre took a deep breath, and begun. “Fort Kenosha just survived a huge goner attack. And not the groups of ten or twenty that might form back in the days of our fathers. A true herd. I believe they numbered in the hundreds. Maybe over a thousand. And they attacked during the winter, even through snowstorms.”

  Silence greeted this pronouncement. Finally, Townsend sighed and shook his head. “Take this man back to his rooms, Larkin. When the pass clears, we’ll send some of your Scouts to Kenosha and see if they really did send this man.”

  Beaupre looked baffled. “Don’t you want to hear the whole story?”

  “I’d rather not,” the mayor said. “The Gone cannot move in winter cold. It’s been mild this year, but not that mild.” Townsend turned to the other councilmen. “Clearly this is man is a nomad, and he’s come up with a good story to get a bed out of us, and a place to stay during the storm that just passed. And a bed he’ll get, under guard.” He then turned his attention back to Beaupre. “And when they send word that they’ve never heard of you, Mr. Beaupre, you will be held accountable.”

  “Wait a minute!” Jake exclaimed. “How do you know he’s lying? Who would make something like this up? As Mr. Lefton pointed out, we have trade with the Kenoshans. If he’s nomad, we would find out about it, and he would never be able to pass this way again. I can’t believe there are a lot of places for a man to get supplies. Why take the risk of not being welcome back?”

  “It could be that he isn’t acting alone,” said Lefton. “Maybe he’s part of a band, hoping that we will send men off to help Kenosha, so we’re easier to attack for supplies. Or it could be that Kenosha wants us to believe that they are in distress, so that we’ll give them more favorable trade to help get them back on their feet. If they were ever off their feet in the first place.”<
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  “If that’s the case, our Scouts can find out when they get to Kenosha,” added Marolt, nodding.

  Beaupre look flabbergasted. Jake looked to Carpenter, but the captain of the Longshots was deep in thought. "Hear his whole story before you make a judgment!” Jake pleaded. “The man has a right to tell his story before we start calling him a liar.”

  “Well said.” That was Roger, who had apparently awakened. “And we’ve waited a long while to hear it. Even if it IS a lie… it sounds like a good tale.”

  “The council has better things to do than to hear a good story,” said Townsend, rolling his eyes.

  “Maybe you do, but that’s why we have a council, isn’t it? I vote we have time to hear his story,” said Roger.

  Townsend sighed in exasperation. “Do we really need a vote on this? We know what the Gone can and cannot do. It’s insane!”

  “That sounds like a ‘no’ vote from the mayor,” interrupted Jake. Townsend glared at him, but he ignored it. “I vote yes.”

  Marolt shook his head. “I have to vote no,” said the Head Planter. “The mayor is right… planting season is only six weeks away if we’re lucky. And with what happened at Three Ponds, our plate is full. We can’t spend our time on stories.”

  That left Carpenter. The old rifleman looked to Jake. “Do you believe him?” he asked.

  Jake looked to Beaupre, looking the Kenoshan square in the eye. “I do,” he said. He then turned back to the council. “And if I’m wrong, we still send people to Kenosha to check out his story, like the Mayor said. In fact, I’m going to go myself and talk to Simon, just as soon as it’s safe.” Jake then looked to the mayor, meeting his eye. “That’s not negotiable, by the way,” he added

  “Then I vote yes,” said Carpenter, turning to the mayor. “Maybe his story is total BS. But we’re going to have to deal with the consequences of it whether it’s true or not. So we’d better at least hear the story, don’t you think?”

  “I know my vote doesn’t count,” said Lefton gruffly, “but you people kept me from going home to hear this story. At this point, I’ll be hearing it any which way. I’d take it as a kindness if we could just do it now so I can be on my way.

  Townsend rolled his eyes, but Marolt nodded thoughtfully. “Both good points. Alright, Kenoshan. I think the ayes have it. Let’s hear your tale.”

  Beaupre still looked a bit incredulous at the exchange that had just occurred, but began to tell the story. Jake watched the council members for their reactions. Roger seemed genuinely interested. At the mention of the roar in the sky and the strange stars, Townsend rolled his eyes again and Marolt pressed his lips into a thin line. It was harder to get a read on Carpenter and Lefton, who certainly seemed to listen intently to the Kenoshan, but let their faces show nothing.

  “The night of the first attack,” said Beaupre, “they came at us from the east, from the hills. The fort folk keep the woods back a good two hundred yards from the walls; helps keep the town safe if a fire breaks out in the forest, and gives a clear line of shot at any goners that may be coming. I was positioned on the south wall, so I didn’t see the first part of the attack, but I’m told they came in dribs and drabs at first. Nothing we couldn’t handle. Simon felt that we shouldn’t waste the ammunition, and so sent a sortie of Rangers out to deal with them. Apparently there were about twenty goners, which honestly was more than we’d seen together in a decade. Usually it’s one or two; most I’ve seen in our valley is three. I don’t know how it is with you all.”

  “About the same,” said Carpenter. “The days of the large herds are done, at least in our valley. Still… twenty is quite a herd. If they’re grouping up like that again, it might be a problem.”

  “Nothing our forces couldn’t handle,” Jake interjected. “But he’s not done. Go on, Mr. Beaupre.”

  Beaupre nodded. “Well, we thought it was over. I mean, it was a large group, but our Rangers have been taking down goners for nearly a hundred years. There were some questions about how it was that they could move with snow on the ground, but it was still early in the season. Some said that maybe their feet had frozen but not the rest of them yet. It had been a fairly warm day for late November. Most of us shrugged it off, myself included.”

  “As the sun began to go down, the moans started up again. We took our places on the wall, but none of us were really worried. A warm night in November is still damned cold. We’d have more work tomorrow, sure, but for the night we would be safe. But the moaning didn’t stop when it got dark. It got louder, louder than I’ve ever heard. Some of the old tales of the Awakening talk about Gone Screams, but I had never actually heard one, not a real one. A smell started wafting over the fort, a nasty stench. Everyone was on edge, and the fort folk who had taken to the Three started to say it was the stench of Death himself. Simon told them to shut up about the smell and put their minds to figuring out what was going on.”

  “We started talking on the wall about how maybe it was a new trick the Gone had learned; to call out in the night when they were frozen, so that there would be larger groups in the day. Well, hell, I’ll be honest, that was MY theory. There were as many ideas about what was happening that night as there were people to have them. Eventually, Simon decided to put another sortie together. If we could hear the Gone calling, it made more sense to go out and get rid of them when they couldn’t move, even if it was dark. It seemed so logical.”

  “Nine of his Rangers and a valley man went down, striking east. There was no moon that night, so they all had torches. We watched them head towards the edge of the eastern forest. About halfway there they stopped. We could hear the screaming get louder, which I hadn’t thought possible. Then we saw all ten torches start coming back to us, FAST. Simon had the guns brought up to that part of the wall, and yelled at the men to open the gate for the raiding party. Then we saw one torch fall behind the others. I don’t know if the man fell or got caught. It started moving forward again after just a moment, but it didn’t matter. It fell to the ground, and in that moment we could see. There were dozens of dark forms chasing them. Many of them fell on the Ranger, but many more kept coming. The dropped torch went out soon enough, but we knew what was coming now. Not being able to see them just made it feel scarier.”

  “The rest of the sortie made it back safely. We immediately pulled the bridge in and started placing barricades behind the doors of the gate. The Gone eventually made it to the ditch we have built around the walls of the fort. For any normal group that would have been enough to stop them. But there were so many of them… the ditch started to fill up. The press of the Gone behind them pushed the ones in front in, and the goners behind THEM pushed those ones in. Thankfully the ones in the moat kept trying to use other goners to climb up, and so they couldn’t gain enough leverage to start pushing on the walls. They’re made of thick wood, gentleman; two rows of them with supports in between. But the sheer number of them…I think the ditch saved our lives that night. We stayed on the walls until dawn, ready with bayonets. At one point, those stars came over again, but didn’t fly over us this time. They were way off to the south, and it was quieter, and we were busy, so most of us paid it no mind.”

  “None of us got any sleep that night. I had lost my bayonet; it had gotten lodged in a goner’s skull. So I was running along the wall with a club all night, trying to give the other men on the wall a break when they needed it. I was slick to the elbow in goner gore. We were all exhausted, but we had only lost the one Ranger all night. There had been a lot of climbers, but not enough to put stress on the wall, and they had been easy enough to deal with. All of us were exhausted, so Simon decided to let a third of us have four hours sleep just before dawn, then another third, and so on. I was lucky enough to be in that first third.”

  “My head no more hit the pillow then some kid was waking me up. When I got back on the wall, it was full daylight, and I could see the herd. It was like nothing I’d ever seen. The entire meadow was full. You could barely make out
individual goners… it was a like a lake on a stormy day, when all you see is motion and you can’t really make out any individual wave. The Gone began to encircle the fort. There was some talk about trying to stop them, but there were just way too many out there to try another sortie, especially with the moat full. That afternoon the clouds came back, and by evening it had started to snow. The goners never froze. They never even slowed. With the walls encircled, there was no chance at getting any sleep now. Every fighting man in the fort had a place on the wall, and a lot of the non fighting men and women as well. Even at that point, no one seemed terribly worried. We still hadn’t lost anyone since they’d reached the walls. The Gone didn’t seem to be thinning, but we had weeks of food in the fort. We were mostly just glad they weren’t heading off to the south; Jefferson doesn’t have walls like the fort. Thankfully the Gone were focused on the meal in front of them.”

  “The stars came back for a last time that night. Or at least the roar did. They sounded like they were to the south again, but much, much closer. It was a dark, snowy night; we could barely see the Gone outside the walls, let alone the town down in the valley. But I had a terrible feeling. So did some of the others. Simon came and told us to keep an eye out for anyone coming up from Jefferson. I hoped to God that we were wrong. But we weren’t. That morning, we heard the first of the gunshots ring out. By the afternoon, we could see the first refugees start heading up the pass towards the Fort. They didn’t stand a chance. The Gone were thinner on our side of the wall; there is a nearly vertical cliff face that falls into the valley. But I don’t think those first people had a single fighting man with them; they were just the ones who dropped everything and fled. The goners on that side fell on them as soon as they noticed them coming up the road. Some of my kin turned and ran, east or west into the tea fields and grazing pastures. No one went south, which told me that the town was lost.”