The Winter People (38 page)

“That’s Hayden’s
wife, Barbara,” he said flatly.

Gary only mouthed
a silent “oh” and let his eyes fall away.  He then turned to join Johnny who
had just pushed past him through the double doors.

“C’mon Gary,”
Johnny prodded as he limped down the long corridor, “we have a lot to do and
precious little time to do it.”

***

In the large
central Sheriff’s office of Copper Creek, sitting on and around several large
oak desks, were the last remaining residents and visitors of Copper Creek. 
Johnny and Mike sat next to each other sipping on the precious juice from a
fresh pot of coffee that Tom had made.  It was too strong and extremely hot,
but neither one cared.  Gary sat on top of a desk that Tom had just pulled a
chair up to and even he was drinking coffee, something he had never liked. 
Sarah remained on her vigil over Nick, though less concerned now that he would
stop breathing on her.  From the rear office near the kitchen Johnny heard an
occasional whimper from Roscoe at the sound of his voice.

Hayden had been
morose and sullen since they had told him about Barbara.  He had cried for the
only time that Johnny could remember and it affected Johnny deeply.  In fact it
had dampened all of their spirits, to see such a strong man brought to tears. 
Each of them wondered inwardly if this would be the end for Hayden, if he would
be any help at all against what was coming.  Everyone here had lost someone
close, someone dear.  And Hayden was just the last member of their little group
to experience that loss this personally.  Yet it still affected them all.  It
brought home to each of them their own losses anew. 

Finally, Johnny
spoke up, “They’re coming,” he said quietly.  And the others only looked
contemplatively at him.  “They will descend upon this building and tear it
apart,” he continued, “and us right along with it.  We have hurt them.  We’ve
destroyed their food supply and killed many of them, and they are not
forgiving.  If for no other reason than to exact revenge, they’re coming.”  He
sipped again from his coffee cup but no one said a word in the long pause. 
They only watched Johnny.

Johnny continued,
“What we’ve done here will slow them down, but it won’t stop them.  There are
just too many openings for them to get in.  Too many weak spots they can
breach.  We need a place that is more secure, more defensible,” he finished.

“What about the
cell?”  Gary offered, nodding his head in that direction.

Hayden spoke up,
“It’s not much of a cell, and certainly not up to keeping them out for long.” 
He thought for a moment then continued, “There is the coal cellar,” he
remarked.  “It has not been used in a very, very long time…except for storage. 
It has a steel reinforced fire door and stone walls.  One entrance…and the old
boarded up coal chute.”

A smile eased onto
Johnny’s face, “That’s not too bad,” he said.  “In fact that’s not bad at all. 
We might just be able to make a stand from there.  But we need to move
quickly.”  Johnny looked around at the group then stood up suddenly and began
issuing orders.  Without a word of protest or a question each of them began
doing as Johnny asked.  It was not in his nature to be a leader; he was usually
quiet and shy.  But these were not ordinary circumstances, and the others were
looking to him to lead them.  Even Hayden acquiesced without word one.

Sarah, Tom, Gary,
and Hayden began moving things they would need into the cellar.  Food,
flashlights, flares and flares guns, blankets, water, matches, and various
other items that Johnny had requested.  After the majority of items had been
relocated, they moved Nick and Roscoe, and Sarah and Tom stayed with them. 
While keeping an eye on their two patients, they began to organize the cellar. 
Gary and Hayden returned for two final items, the acetylene torch, and
Barbara.  Hayden could not bear to leave her up stairs where she might be
violated yet again.  He fought back the tears and carried her lifeless form
down into the cellar and gently placed her in a corner.  No one said a word to
him.

Mike, on the other
hand, was following Johnny around with the tasks he had set for them to do. 
Working as fast as they could, the pair began to tear apart the desks and
chairs.  Mike and Johnny then piled the debris up against the walls wherever
there was nothing flammable.  They placed it all around the building, not just
in the Sheriff’s office.  They were laying kindling for a grand bonfire. 
Everywhere they could and on every floor.  While Mike continued with prepping
the bonfire, Johnny went to the garage and gathered up all the gas he could
find.  He even drained it from the snowmobiles.  If his plan worked, there
would be nothing left of this place let alone snowmobiles.

Johnny then took
his bounty to the top furthermost office, and from there he laid trails of
gasoline from the offices out into the hallways and down the stairs.  He also
took the few remaining sticks of dynamite he had and placed them within several
offices on the upper floors of the old converted hotel.  Then with whatever
precious juice he had left he doused the piles of kindling along the outer
walls.  He even used whatever spirits he could find in desk drawers and office
shelves.  Before long the fumes were almost overpowering and Mike and Johnny
retreated to the relative safety of the coal cellar.

Once inside he and
Mike gathered what few arrows they had left.  There were two with sticks of
dynamite still attached to them and half a dozen with kerosene soaked rags. 
Then there were another half a dozen with only the standard hunting tips on
them.  And of course they had the ten or so bolts for Gary’s crossbow.  Johnny
glanced over his shoulder at the coal chute; Lord he hoped that opening was too
small for them to get through.  Even so, he placed Hayden at that area with a
handful of flares.  The
others
were fearful of fire Johnny knew, but in
their rage he did not know if it really mattered to them that much.

***

Johnny had barely
finished stationing Hayden to watch the coal chute when the first of the Winter
People came knocking.  Gary was in the process of loading his crossbow when
something slammed hard into one of the huge bay doors, and he’d nearly dropped
the bolt he was placing in it.  Sarah held her flare gun before her, trembling,
and Roscoe whimpered.  Tom stood near Hayden with the other flare gun and
looked about nervously, then did something he had not done in a very long
time.  Tom prayed.  Johnny and mike loaded their bows as well and finally
Johnny spoke.

“We need to get
them all in this building,” he said.  “We need to make sure they are all
here.”  And a window upstairs broke just then.  “Be patient,” he continued. 
“Be patient and just defend our position.”  Another window shattered somewhere
and there was an ear popping screech as the metal of the bay doors gave way. 
Barely a whisper, Johnny went on, “Let them come, but try to injure as many as
you can.  The more their blood flows, the better.  When the time is right I
will use my last two dynamite arrows, and Mike, you use the last of your
kerosene arrows.”  Lastly he turned to Tom, “Tom, give your flare gun to Hayden
and come man the torch at the door.  Keep them off of us for as long as you
can.”  Tom only nodded and handed his flare gun to Hayden, along with a handful
of flares for it.

Tom moved toward
the torch and struggled to light it.  He was shaking so badly he couldn’t make
the striker work.  Tom took a deep breath and concentrated hard.  Finally he
managed to get it lit and adjust the flame to a narrow band of blue.  He was
slightly surprised that the whole building didn’t just go bang, what with all
of the fumes from the gasoline wafting about.  But he supposed the
concentration wasn’t high enough for that.  Tom trembled once more then climbed
the cellar stairs to a position outside the door to the coal cellar, just as
the cries and shrieks of the
others
began to fill the Big Empty.  God,
he needed a drink.

***

Syrhal seethed
with anger at the puny man thing that had wrought such devastation upon his
brethren.  Not since the arrival so many years ago had they known such defiance
and fear, and fear was something Syrhal was not accustomed to.  The very
thought of fear made his stomach churn and his lip curled in distaste.  Fear
made him angry, and his anger fueled him and fed the rage exuding from every
pore.  This was more than the feeding time now, Syrhal would make this
personal.  He would find the puny man thing and do things to him that even his
own twisted mind could not yet fathom.  No, it would not be quick for this one
he decided.  It would not be quick for any of them.  And with that thought he
threw himself at the large flat wall.

Syrhal hammered at
the flat wall and rattled and shook and flexed, but it did not give.  He
hammered again and only managed to dent the infernal thing.  Not that is should
have been possible, but his rage grew even more.  Syrhal punched his razor
talons into the metal of the flat wall and they sank up to his fingers.  With a
grin so wicked and evil so as to turn any man’s blood to ice, he pulled his
hand from left to right and created four long gashes in the wall.  Syrhal
peered in the opening and saw the tiny toys the man things rode and his eyes
narrowed.  Then, using both hands, he pried the opening apart in dying screech
of tearing metal.  The opening was now large enough for him to pass through,
and he did.

Syrhal’s success
was relayed in the wind and his brethren retorted their glee.  At this, others
began to gain entrance to the hidey hole these things were using.  From its top
to beneath the drifts of snow piled deep against its walls they entered. 
Through ruined openings and laughable blockades they entered.  From every side
and every vantage point they entered.  And still more came from the woods
beyond.  They had swarmed this place with all of their numbers, and each of
them with a singular desire.  Revenge.

***

Gary saw the first
of them at the top of the stairs and he felt his crossbow fire.  He did not
even remember doing it, but away the bolt went.  It sank solidly into the wall
beside the thing’s head and Gary only mumbled, “fuck.”  Then he reloaded the
weapon as soon as he could.  In the mean time, both Mike and Johnny picked
their targets and let their arrows fly.  Direct hits, but this only slowed the
progression of their targets.  They each reloaded and fired again, and again. 
For every three arrows they sent in to the maelstrom of evil, Gary could only
send one.  But each of them was hitting their targets, and none of them the
same one twice.

There was just
then a pounding at the rear of the room and splinters of wood bounced down the
coal chute.  Hayden reacted and fired the flare gun up the chute and could hear
a cry of alarm, and then saw a bright flare of white light.  He quickly
reloaded the gun and faced the cold breeze forcing its way down the chute.  The
arctic air stung his face and made his eyes water.  But he held his pose, and
his ground.  So many years as a police officer had made his actions
instinctual.

Then a blur of
white followed a huge hand into the ruined opening and it reached out for
Hayden.  He fired again, and again there was a flare of bright white light. 
Only this time it was followed by an unbearably loud blast of wind that howled
through the opening.  Hayden winced at its volume but continued to load another
flare into his gun.  The others in the rooms seemed to not even notice it.  But
they did, they were just preoccupied with other things.  Hayden knew that, but
he still felt as though he was on his own back here.  That is when Sarah came
up beside him.

Sarah was feeling
like a fifth wheel.  There wasn’t any room for her at the door; it was too
crowded as it was.  And Nick seemed to be sleeping soundly, even given the wild
shrieks of the wind and the
others
in the Big Empty.  So Sarah did the
only thing she could think of and walked over to where Hayden stood vigil.  He
had already managed to take out two the damn things but there was an icy wind
funneling down the old coal chute, and she didn’t know how long he would be
able to stand there and take that.  Especially not after all he had been
through.  So after he had reloaded his third flare she pulled his arm down and
nudged him aside so that she could take a stance in front of the chute.  It did
not take long for another arm to come bursting into the opening, looking for a
way in.  And Sarah shot it.  While the flash of light died down Hayden moved
over and she moved aside to reload her gun.  Hayden only gave her a nod.

By the time Mike
and Johnny had fired all but their “special” arrows, the Big Empty was filled
with white upon white.  The
others
climbed over each other in a vain
attempt to reach them, but Tom held them at bay with the torch.  They formed a
writhing sea of white that undulated with rancor and fury.  But they did not
advance.  Outside there were more that were still trying to find their way in
and slowly filled the building, but they did not advance upon them.  They
should have reached them, Johnny thought.  They should have been able to
overrun their position, sacrificing a few to attain their goal.

Just then the
undulating sea began to separate, like the Red Sea for Moses.  And at the other
end stood a singular form, towering a good foot above the rest.  Johnny knew
that it was their leader.  He also knew that it had a special hatred for him. 
A hatred that went beyond their feeding time, which went beyond all Johnny had
done to them this day.  It was a hatred born of the past.  Johnny knew that
this was the one that his great grandfather had nearly killed all those years
ago, and that in the end this was the one who had killed his great
grandfather.  And as if in response, it reached up and gingerly ran a single
talon down the length of a scar on its chest.