The Winter People

by Bret Tallent

  “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.

  Johnny whispered at Gary, “do you have a bolt ready to go?’ he asked, never taking his eyes off it.

  “Locked and loaded,” he replied, “what do you want me to do?”

  “When I light my fuse, let that sucker fly. Then get your ass back down the stairs.” He said. Then he continued, “Tom, light us up.”

  Syrhal took a long stride toward Johnny and his hatred pulsated in his veins. He took a second step and the fury began to build. He felt it in the others as well. They crowded in behind him as he moved toward the one. Deeper and deeper the rage went until his stomach was a tight little knot. So blinded by his fury was Syrhal that he never noticed the puny things adding the fire to their sticks. Nor did he pay any heed to the sharp pain in his arm, where a steel rod now protruded. So focused on his rancor was he, that only the stink of the one filled his nostrils. The pounding of his own wrath in his ears did not allow him to hear the cries of alarm from his brethren, or the explosions from somewhere above.

  Johnny had locked eyes on Syrhal and the two could only focus on each other. He had let his arrows fly to the upper reaches of the old hotel even as Gary’s crossbow bolt hit the behemoth’s arm. Mike had also let his flaming arrows go to other areas of the Big Empty, but he was capti
vated by the beast that was bearing down on Johnny and Johnny alone. Johnny stood his ground, dropped his bow, and retrieved a hand flare from his pocket. He lit it just as Syrhal launched himself.

  Once he had fired his bolt, Gary scrambled backwards down the stairs into the coal cellar. The outer room was suddenly thrust into panic and confusion and blood lust. Gary fell over the acetylene tanks and fell hard onto his butt, but he never took his eyes off of the scene unfolding above beyond the steel door. Madness, it was total madness. Mike and Johnny had fired their arrows into the upper areas of the building, which ignited the gasoline soaked rugs and hallways. Two explosions rocked the timbers of the old building, and caused great flashes of bright white light, which in turn ignited other areas of the rooms above. It was a cacophony of flames and bright lights, bright lights and flames. Gary watched Tom drop the torch, still lit, and scramble back down the stairs into the cellar as well. He was followed closely by Mike, who was still holding his bow. Only Johnny stood alone at the doorway, between this world and the chaos beyond.

  The torch that Tom had dropped ignited the old dried floor next to Johnny, but still he held his ground. And still the giant beast leapt for him. Johnny held the lit flare before him like a talisman and waited for Syrhal to reach him. All the room around him had gone berserk but all he could see was Syrhal. And as Syrhal reached Johnny, Johnny thrust the flare at his injured arm. But Syrhal managed to swat it aside and hit Johnny squarely in the chest sending him sprawling down the stairs and into the rear wall of the coal cellar. Syrhal rolled once then stood bolt upright and took a final step toward his prey. He grasped Johnny around the throat and lifted him off the floor, his feet dangling like a rag doll. Johnny gripped the monster’s hand to no avail. He could only watch as the beast raised one massive arm as if to strike, stretching out his talons.

  Hayden remained at the foot of the coal chute while all the others backed away from Johnny and the creature as quickly as they could. To Mike Hayden yelled, “Close that damn door or they’ll all be in here with us!”

  Mike raced up the stairway and pushed the heavy door closed, then wedged a piece of wood between the bottom of the door and the floor. “Done!” he replied, and turned back to the scene unfolding in their safe room. Tom and Gary were frozen in fear, unsure of what to do. Hayden would not give up his post at the chute, and Sarah had moved between the thing and Nick. Johnny continued to struggle in vain to free himself from the grip of this monster in their midst. And Mike was just plain out of answers.

  Suddenly the room gave off a pink glow and Syrhal felt a sharp pain in his back. He stopped in mid strike and let Johnny fall to the ground. Syrhal turned around, confused. Standing before him was a tiny female thing holding a flare gun. Sarah had fired her last flare at the back of the creature and it buried itself deep between its shoulder blades. Even now Syrhal could feel the burning starting within him.

  “That was for Nick,” Sarah said defiantly, with loathing in her voice. Then Syrhal simply ceased to be.

  The screams and shrieks of the others echoed in the building and drifted through the climbing flames, and beneath the steel fire door. In a panic they ran, they ran this way and that. But none of them could escape the inferno. So close were the quarters and packed was the building that the flames actually drove them to the center of the building. One by one they began to wink out, and in doing so fed the flames even more. Even the ones that were not injured, that had no blood to show, had nowhere to go. So they only stood there and let the flames take them.

  ***

  The heat from the fire all around them turned their little sanctuary into an oven. It was only the fact of the ruined door to the coal chute that allowed them to stay in the cellar. It allowed in fresh cold air that countered the heat and smoke coming from behind the fire door. For the first time in a long time the group relaxed. It was over. At least the immediate threat was over. A few of them had survived, they still needed to get to civilization, and Nick was in no way out of danger.

  ***

  In the months that followed the massacre at Copper Creek, Nick had been struggling to recover. He had survived the makeshift surgery but had not come away from his near drowning unscathed. There was some brain damage after all. His mind was as sharp as ever, but he couldn’t get his body to do exactly what he was telling it to do. Nick was learning to walk all over again, and had a speech therapist to help with his communication. So when he stood by himself for the first time to recite his wedding vows to Debbie, Sarah and Mike both cried. It had been an uphill climb, but Sarah knew he was going to be okay. She could sense it. She knew that he spent much of his time deep in thought, trying to fight the memories that threatened to invade his soul. However, Sarah knew that her brother was strong, and with the help of his new wife, Debbie, he would overcome those as well.

  Sarah only wished she could overcome her demons as easily as Nick seemed to be conquering his. She had seen and lost too much to forget it, and part of her thought that maybe she shouldn’t forget it. Part of her thought that forgetting would diminish what had happened, diminish the people that died. She would come to terms with the loss she had experienced, or at least she hoped to. It was the evil and the terror that haunted her the most. So Sarah did what strong people do and found a way to deal with that as well. Once Nick had married, and the pain inside her had subsided, Sarah began her own therapy of sorts. Sarah began to let people in.

  Mike had stayed with Sarah for a while after they had returned to Albuquerque. He had hung around for Nick, in case there was anything he could do. But, Sarah and Debbie seemed to have it well in hand. So Mike stayed for Sarah, and he stayed for himself. There didn’t seem to be any point to going back to California, back to his regular life. Nothing was regular any more, and there wasn’t really anyone else who could relate to what he had been through. So Mike hung around with Sarah because he didn’t really know what else to do. After a short while, Mike felt a spark for Sarah. Something he hadn’t ever considered before, but now? Life seemed too short not to explore it, and Sarah wasn’t saying no. So Mike moved back to Albuquerque sooner than he had expected, and was willing to just take one day at a time and see what happened. Mike was at peace with his decision even though he was still having nightmares, but they were fading. He couldn’t seem to entirely erase the images from his mind and many a night he woke up in a cold sweat. Although, Mike had discovered that he was much more confident. He was more confident in his decisions and in his actions. Before the ski trip he was painfully shy. But that didn’t seem to be a problem for him anymore. After all, what did he have to lose?

  Hayden on the other hand had lost everything. He had lost his wife, his friends, his town. With the loss of his wife, Hayden felt like he had lost his life as well. Yet at the same time Hayden found a strength he never knew he had, and he found a new purpose. Hayden made it his goal to rebuild what had been taken from him, to rebuild Copper Creek. There were a few survivors, hiding out in various buildings, or cabins that had been missed. There were also the few that had been out of town, and relatives of the ones that had perished. Hayden decided that he would be there for them. He would stay in Copper Creek because that is where Barbara had always wanted to be, and where she was now buried. Hayden would make Copper Creek his town again. It was what Barbara would have wanted, and Hayden was not about to let her down again. Hayden would live the life she had wanted for the both of them.

  Gary was living too, living with his Aunt in Idaho. In his Aunt he had found a precious gift, he had found a part of his own mother. His Aunt and his mother were so much alike that Gary often felt as if his mother was still with him. He could hear her voice in his Aunt’s every time she called him to dinner, or smell her perfume sometimes when he went into the bathroom. Gary was also distancing himself from the horror he had seen and his memories of his mother were slowly becoming more pure, less them. Gary also quit playing World of Warcraft; it no longer held any interest for him. Gary had seen the real monsters, and
Gary didn’t really want to fight monsters anymore.

  However, Johnny still had demons to fight. In the hours after the town began to mourn, Johnny began a new journey. He knew that several Winter People had escaped their trap and were even now moving north, back to the ice fields above Canada. He also knew that as they travelled they would take lives, trying to replace what Johnny had deprived them of. Johnny could not let this happen. He could not let his actions lead to the deaths of other people. So Johnny began a journey. He had his choice of any number of snowmobiles in Copper Creek and picked the one he thought was best. He packed supplies, fuel, and an injured pit-bull onto a makeshift sled that he towed behind him and left town just as authorities were coming in. He would follow the others as long as he had to. He would track them down and put an end to what had been started in the tiny town of Copper Creek. But Johnny also knew deep down that this would not be his last journey.

  Tom Willis had also begun a journey of his own. But it was not a journey as far and as noble as Johnny’s. Tom travelled only as far as the closest bar, but then stopped just short of the nearest bottle. He had wanted a drink so badly, but then he couldn’t quite bring himself to do it. He could not let Lucy down like that. Besides, he had found something in himself that had been missing for a long time. Something that Lucy had always seen, but he’d been too consumed with self-loathing to notice. Tom liked being a doctor. He felt good helping others. So he decided he would do what he could to help out Hayden and Copper Creek. They were his patients now.

  Author’s Note

  The Winter the Stars Fell is a documented event, and truly significant to many peoples so closely tied to nature. The tragic events that befell the eighty-seven settlers of the Donner party as they tried to cross the Rockies in winter, led to the deaths of many of them. However, it was the cannibalism that is mostly remembered from their story. Winter in the Rocky Mountains is often long and harsh, and the fact is that many lives are lost or disappear entirely, most without explanation. There is also the legend of the People Eaters. This is as real to the Ute as any history lesson. So when I began to write the story of Copper Creek, it began with a simple question. What if?