Aspen Vale: A Tale of the Gone

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Aspen Vale: A Tale of the Gone Page 21

by Lopeman, Kenneth


  The young man wiped his brow, sweating despite the cold. So far, the Gone had only come in small groups. In the hour or so that had passed since his father had returned from the bridge, the Longshooters on the roof hadn’t needed to fire a single shot. The spikes had stood many of them up; once they were immobilized, they had proved easy prey to spears and slingshots. “You know, Dad, I’m starting to think that you were being too hard on yourself,” Seth said. “This isn’t anything we can’t handle. Maybe between the barricade and the trench, you broke the herd up enough for us to manage.”

  “That’s a nice thought, kiddo. I had it myself, a little bit ago. I thought that, maybe once we were off the barricade, the Gone wouldn’t have as much reason to try to go over it, and might wander off.”

  “I sense a ‘but’ coming,” said Seth.

  His dad nodded. He looked incredibly tired. Captain Carpenter had forced him to eat something, but he still had deep circles under his eyes. “Yeah. ‘But’” he said. “Three things. One, we may not be shooting, but we’re not killing most of these goners before they can let out a scream. Eventually, they’ll hone in on us and take the most direct route. Whether that is over the barricade at the bridge, or into the trench and around from the south, they are likely to come en masse eventually. Two, all the stories we’ve heard about Gone herds say that they would pursue people for miles. The little bit of distance between here and the bridge is nothing. And three… three is, the Kenoshan said that those stars and that sound came for three nights. Even if we take this herd out, there may be another.”

  Seth cursed to himself softly. He hadn’t thought of any of that. He looked up into the sky. “How many hours of daylight do you think we have?”

  “An hour. A little more if we’re lucky.” His dad looked to Trigger, who had found himself a nice place to lie between them. The dog had stood up suddenly, and put his front paws over the top of the wall. “What do you see?” his dad asked, and Trig answered with a single, quiet yip. The Scout captain stared in the direction Trig had indicated for a few minutes, and then all at once sucked in a breath. “Mother preserve us,” he said softly. He then put two fingers into his mouth and gave a whistle. “Rory! Are you up there?”

  At first there was no answer. Then, the familiar gnarled silhouette of Rory McEuon appeared on the roof. “I got eyes on you, Jake! What’s up?”

  “Maroon Creek! Are you seeing what I’m seeing?”

  Seth waited for Rory to answer, but he never did. After looking off in the direction his dad had indicated, he had disappeared. Moments later, it looked like every Longshooter on the roof had switched positions, training their guns toward Maroon Creek Road. Seth looked out to the road again. It looked like another group of goners off in the distance. “I don’t get it, Dad. Why is that one so special?”

  “Because that’s just the front of it,” said his father grimly. “Rory just confirmed it for me. The herd is coming.”

  “They’re using the road? Doesn’t that seem kind of odd? Why not cut through the fields?” Seth asked.

  “I’ve no idea, Seth,” his dad admitted. “We saw they had problems in the snow. No one has ever seen them move when it’s this cold, so maybe they are avoiding it to move better, the same as we do.”

  For the first time, he realized that his father was learning how to fight a herd as he went along. The thought both thrilled and terrified Seth. On the one hand, he didn’t feel so bad about feeling lost in the situation he found himself in. On the other, if his dad didn’t know how to get them out of this mess, who did? Seth gripped the handle of his scraper tighter as he watched the mass of the Gone grow longer and longer, seemingly without end.

  Rory took a position beside him; he had been so busy watching the herd, he hadn’t heard the Longshooter climbing the barricade. “I think they’re slowing down a bit,” he said. “Maybe the cold is finally getting to them.” He didn’t curse once. Seth thought that that was probably a bad sign.

  “Maybe,” said his dad. “But we can’t count on that. Rory, I want you to go around to the southwest barricade. Tell them we are going to need two of every three over here now. The rest need to stay right where they are; we’ll still be getting in smaller groups from the south, and eventually these guys will surround us, but we should take out as many of them as we can before they do.”

  “Sounds good, Jake.” With that, Rory jumped down the stepped haystacks and ran off.

  The steady flow of goners continued. A smaller group emerged from the houses directly across from Seth. They began heading for the school, but then one of the goners in the herd screamed. The smaller group peeled off to the north instead, joining themselves to the main body. “I didn’t know they were that smart,” remarked Seth when he mentioned it.

  I’m not sure about smart,” his dad replied. “The Gone have a strong herding instinct. Lord Jezias made them that way. One goner, on its own, is no threat unless it surprises you. But a herd? A herd can push down walls, flow over entire towns. Their strength is in numbers. And they will have numbers tonight.”

  Men began to join them on the wall from the opposite side, including the Harpers. They took position next to Seth. “Mother be merciful, Jake,” said Tom. “Is that what you faced at the bridge? How did you hold them so long?”

  “The same way we’ll hold them here. Rotating men off the main level to keep them from getting too tired. We can’t wait for them to push here; there are more than enough of them to shift bales of hay. We have to try to spread the herd out as much as possible, so that the dead ones don’t pile.”

  “And if we can’t?” asked Tommy.

  “Then we retreat into the buildings,” said his dad. “We have some provisions in there, and hopefully we can thin them out enough to make sorties. Eventually, we’ll get them down.” Seth noticed that his dad sounded a lot more confident with the Harpers than he had a moment before. At first he thought that maybe his dad had seen something that had changed his mind, or had had some brilliant idea to defend them. It took him a moment to realize that neither of those things were true. His dad was simply trying to keep their morale up, so that they wouldn’t lose hope. His father had just let him see his own fear, even though he couldn’t let anyone else see it. He met his father’s gaze for a moment, and nodded. His father nodded back. Seth wasn’t able to say why at the time, but that nod meant more to him than all the “I love you, sons" he had heard in his entire life. He had been shown more than love today. He had been shown trust.

  “The charges are set, Jake,” he heard Rory say down on the ground. “There aren’t many of them, but they’re there. The runners are in position, and Jay is ready with the signals.”

  “Good,” his dad said. “You’d best get back up on the roof, then. You’ll do us more good there.”

  “That’s what Jay said, too,” he said. “I told him what I’ll tell you now. Go straight to hell, Captain. My eyes aren’t what they used to be. Get me closer, though, and I can still shoot the ass off of a hummingbird. I’ll stay here.”

  “Did you tell your wife to go to hell, too?” asked Tom Sr. with a half a grin. “I figure she’s probably still up there?”

  “Well, of course she’s up there. Not a damned thing wrong with HER eyes,” he said. “And she ain’t worried. She thinks Jake here will keep me out of trouble. So it’s his ass on the line, not mine.”

  “Rud,” said his father, not taking his eyes off the herd. “I’ve been telling Beth all along that I needed a babysitting job, to keep me responsible.”

  Tommy leaned in towards Seth. “Did your dad really just say ‘rud?’” his friend asked under his breath. Seth could only shrug in reply. You could never tell when adults were going to try and sound cool.

  The herd was now in full view. It could no longer be contained by the road; several of the creatures walked through the snow on either side. It slowed the herd down at the edges, which gave it the appearance of an arrow headed straight for them. At the sight, Seth wanted nothing m
ore than to crawl off of that barricade and go hide in the gymnasium with everyone else. He looked to his right, and saw the same fear in Tommy’s eyes. But a look to the left showed him his father. He didn’t look scared. At that moment, he didn’t even look tired. All Seth could see in those eyes was determination

  Longshooters began to open fire from the roof. A few of them scored hits to Gone’s Sacks, and those creatures fell midstride. But the vast majority of shots were being aimed at the legs and knees. It took a moment to understand; with limited ammo, the riflemen were taking higher percentage shots. It was extremely difficult to hit a target as small as a Gone’s Sack from the range they were at, especially when they couldn’t actually see it. Aiming for the entire lower body? That was far easier, and if they could incapacitate the creature, it was no longer a threat; the most likely thing that would happen would be that it was killed by the stampede of its fellows.

  The first row of the Gone impaled themselves almost immediately. Seth thanked the Mother that the spearhead of the attack had come in at a place where they had managed to put up two rows of spikes instead of just one. By some miracle, not even one of the spikes broke. The herd began to spread out a bit around the wooden defense, as if unsure how to proceed. Then, one goner put its hands on the shoulders of one of its impaled comrades and began to push. Another one behind it did the same, impaling the one in front of it. One by one, the Gone in the back rows began to do the same. At first Seth didn’t understand. But then he saw one of the spikes begin to crack. It gave way in an explosion of splinters. The two goners that had been impaled by it fell to the ground, still connected by what was left of the stake, fighting each other in their attempts to stand back up. The Gone nearest the sudden gap surged towards it, the press of them turning more stakes into kindling.

  “Damn. Sorry, Dad. Marty and me thought that those would do more good than they did,” said Seth.

  “Don’t be sorry. They did exactly what they were meant to,” said his dad. “Those kinds of defenses are good for nomad bands, but for goners, they are just a way for us to slow them down without risking ourselves. It gave our Longshooters a few minutes to do some thinning.” His dad raised his voice so that everyone near him could hear him over the Gone screams. “Once they get through the second line of defenses, I want everyone to do everything they can to keep those goners from pushing on this barricade. Keep a firm grip on your weapons! Kill as many as you can! Those of you who just came from other parts of the wall, take up a position wherever you can. When you get the signal, haul ass back to your original spots!"

  “What signal?” asked Tommy.

  “Don’t worry, kid. You’ll know it when you hear it, I guaran-godsdamned-tee you!” said Rory, giving a cackle.

  The space between the first row of defenses and the second wasn’t terribly long, so the Gone didn’t throw themselves onto that row of spikes like they had the previous one. Instead, they made as if to push them down, as if they were a wall. Seth saw one goner impale its own hands on two separate spikes, leaning into the space between them, mouth biting at the defenders above him. A scout’s spear ended that one, but the one next to it began to push on the body of the first. More pieces of the outer ring failed, and more goners began to attack the inner. Seth shot his scraper out, catching a newly impaled goner. The sharpened blade went through cleanly, and magenta ichor spurted from the bisected Gone’s Sack as the creature went limp.

  Rory’s gun roared out next to him, and he gave a victorious cry. Seth hadn’t seen what Rory was aiming at, but whatever it was, he had clearly gotten it. “Nice shot,” said Seth.

  “You bet your ass it was! I saw the shot you just took, too. Good job, you little kakhead,” Rory said. The man actually seemed to be enjoying himself. “Now you just have to do that three thousand more times, and we’ll be in the clear!”

  After that, time became a blur to Seth. Aim, strike, pull back. All along the barricade, the other defenders were doing the same. The second row of spikes actually held on quite a bit longer than the first, perhaps because the Gone hadn’t been able to build as much momentum as they had the first. Eventually, they did give way, but by that time, the pile of bodies had already begun to center on the spikes instead of the wall. Instead of creating a ramp like what his father had experienced at the bridge, the bodies became another barrier. The Gone would scramble to the top of it, only to be knocked back or killed by the defenders when they reached the top.

  It was getting harder to see. Seth took a pause to look to the sky. Sure enough, it was getting dimmer. Had the attack really gone on so long? “What are we going to do when it gets dark?” he asked. “This hay is too dry to bring torches up here.

  Tom Sr. cursed. “He’s right, Jake. I don’t know why we didn’t think of that before."

  “Could we try to toss some torches on the other side? Maybe set the spikes on fire?” suggested Tommy.

  Seth’s watched his dad shake his head. “If the fire catches on a goners clothing, and they manage to reach the barricade, the hay is going to go up anyway.” He looked up to the sky, much as Seth had a moment before. “The moon was full three nights ago. If the skies stay clear, we should have some light tonight. We’ll have to make due.”

  “I’ll tell you what I’m seeing now, and I’m not sure I like it,” said Rory. “There, to the north. There’s a lot of kak flying around in the air.”

  “Not more of them!” said Tommy plaintively as he thrust his scraper out. His scrapper caught the goner in the chest, but that was enough to knock it back into its fellows.

  “More likely just wind, kicking up the snow,” said Tom Sr.

  Seth noticed that his dad didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t have time to remark on it. Another goner had hit the top of the pile. His scraper took it in the neck, but the blade stuck on something, and the weapon pulled free from his grip as the goner fell back. “Kak!” he cried. “I lost my scraper!”

  “Have one of the reserves take your place, then, and try to find something else to use…” His dad trailed off as the people on the roof began to cheer. A moment later, so did Rory. “That isn’t any fucking wind!” he cried. “Those are horses! It’s the Ranchers!”

  Seth turned his attention to the North. At first, all he could see was a cloud of flying snow. Then, here and there, large shapes began to appear through the icy cloud. It was men on horseback, at least forty of them. They rode into the line of goners still streaming in from the Ruins, blowing a hole through them. Several of them began firing from horseback, and a large part of the herd began to peel off towards them.

  “C’mon, men! We aren’t done yet!” shouted Seth’s father. “We need to thin these bastards out so we can get out there and help those cowboys! Rory, get up to the roof and tell Jay to use those charges. Everyone, get back to your original positions!”

  Rory handed Seth his gun. “You ever use one of these before?”

  “No,” Seth admitted.

  “Then don’t try now.” Rory clicked a lever on the rifle, and handed to him. “If anything tries to climb the wall, you hit them in the forehead with the butt of the rifle. Don’t do anything unless it’s a last resort; if you lose my gun, I’ll kick your ass so hard you’ll be passing leather for a month!” With that, the rifleman practically slid off the barricade and headed for the Ell.

  Seth turned his attention back to the action. The herd seemed to have split into two parts right were the Ranchers had trampled a hole. The Gone that had been in the front of the herd didn’t even seem to notice that anything had happened; they kept shambling towards the school. Those behind went after the men on horseback. They had set up near some of the houses on Heather street, forming themselves into a sort of semi circle, pouring fire into the pursuing creatures. So intent were the men on the prey in front of them that they didn’t seem to notice that one of the smaller groups had emerged behind them. It looked like six or seven to Seth. He tried to scream out a warning, but the Gone in front of him drowned out the
sound, and the men probably would never have heard him over their own gunfire anyway. He watched in horror as one of the Ranchers was pulled from the back of his horse. The other goners set upon him almost immediately. A second man almost met the same fate, but one of their dogs came out from nowhere and threw itself at the creature, taking its neck in its jaws. That got the Rancher’s attention, and a few of them dismounted to deal with the group. They were just starting to remount when a yet another group of goners emerged.

  Seth turned to his father, about to plead with him that someone needed to get out there, and at least tell the Ranchers what they could expect. But just as he was opening his mouth, an explosion sent him to his knees. Another followed quickly on its heels, this time behind him. “What was that!” he exclaimed.

  “Our diversion,” said Tom. “All you need is a stick of dynamite and a good slingshot."

  “I don’t get it,” said Seth plaintively. “Why not aim for the goners themselves?”

  “See for yourself,” said his father. Seth stood again, his legs shaky. Most of the Gone that had been attacking were still there; it was hard to distract a goner from so close a meal. But a great deal of the ones behind them began peeling off in the other direction. When they got to the place the explosion had been, two more sticks sailed from off the roof, further out along the perimeter. “A quarter-stick of dynamite would take out five goners, or maybe even more, but that’s small potatoes,” said his father. “By using it as a distraction, we thin the herd out.”

  “If they go all the way around us, they won’t be more than two or three deep,” said Tommy. “We’ll waste ‘em for sure!”

  “I think the explosions spooked the horses,” said Seth, pointing towards the Ranchers. A few of the animals seemed to have thrown their riders and ran off, and a group of two or three had gotten separated from the main body. “They need our help.”

 

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