The Winter People (22 page)

All
around the group the air had gone preternaturally silent and the dogs looked
about nervously.  The wind had stopped and there was no sound but the crackling
of the fire.  The flames danced higher and higher still until the restraints of
the Earth and gravity would allow no more.  Glowing embers shot out of the
bonfire and leapt upward, carried away out the opening in the clouds.  The
smoke looked like a reverse funnel cloud but Johnny didn't find it bizarre at
all, it was as it should be.

Johnny
winced as he shifted his weight, his leg ached deep.  From the cold and then
the heat, and everything else he had put it through today.  He shifted back
then stood there reverently and watched the fire begin to die.  His mind was in
another place, another time.  He was with his grandfather in fond memory.  Visualizing
things they had done together, reliving them.  And so he closed his eyes to
intensify the visions.

His
eyes flew back open in a flash, fear on his face.  He swallowed hard and forced
his eyes shut once again.  He fought the urge to open them, open them up and
run. He kept them closed and watched the two at the edge of the woods, watching
him. Blended in with the trees behind him, stood two of
them. 
Below him
somewhere, he heard a low guttural growl from Roscoe and he knew that this was
their time.

In
Johnny's mind he was right in front of the unearthly creatures, eye to eye.  He
looked into their black, soulless eyes and saw only hatred.  A fire deep inside
that hungered for human flesh and misery, a fire that was all consuming.  The
more you fed it the more it needed.  It was a fire that was pain, terrible
pain.  A pain that Johnny couldn't imagine, it was beyond his or any human
comprehension.

Johnny
looked away from those eyes, unable to take any more of their insanity. The
rest of the creature came into focus and it made the Indian tremble.  Roughly
man-shaped, they were over seven feet tall, but not lumbering or clumsy
looking.  They were sinewy and powerful, well defined muscles bulging beneath
the soft snow white fur that covered them.  Their arms hung long at their
sides, ending in huge exaggerations of hands.  Powerful hands tipped with three
inch razors for nails, nails that the one on the right was clicking together
impatiently.

The
head itself was worse than any child's nightmare.  It resembled a grossly
distorted and twisted wolf's head.  The eyes were sharper, angled slits in the
heavy brow. Its ears stood tall and sharp, twitching at every sound.  A white
nose sat at the end of a long series of ridges that forever gave it the
impression of snarling with its black lips constantly curled.  Several rows of
long white barbed spikes protruded from its gums as teeth.  So many that it
looked like a dense forest.

The
impatient one opened its mouth in a howl that blended into the wind and the
other nodded.  Its mouth opened incredibly wide and Johnny jerked, that maw
could easily take his entire head in it.  Then, the gaping mandible snapped
shut in an audible clap, and Johnny jerked again.  The impatient one then began
skirting the clearing, moving in a form that reminded Johnny of cross-country
skiing.  It was unbelievably fast and fluid in its movement, and traversed the
ground in an instant to end up across the clearing from its partner.

Johnny
slowly pulled the bow of his great grandfather from his chest and held it in
his left hand.  Then he pulled one of the arrows from the quiver with his
right.  He opened his eyes and saw that his dogs were standing and staring past
the fire towards the impatient one.  Johnny took several steps towards the ebbing
fire and extended the point of the arrow into it.  The kerosene soaked leather
caught instantly and Johnny wheeled around on his bum leg bringing the arrow up
to the bow as he turned.  In a split second the bowstring snapped and the
flaming arrow was launched.

In
that instant, both creatures lurched for the tasty man-thing in the clearing. 
In mid stride he saw the blazing light coming for him and his face actually
showed surprise, and even fear.  And quick as he was, he couldn't side step
it.  The arrow struck firmly in the left of his chest and buried itself there. 
Tkleah felt the burning inside him and it expanded quickly.  His lungs were
acrid with fire, then his heart and stomach.  The flames filled his head and
his eyes had an orange glow to them.

The
heat filled his arms and legs and he felt heavy and sluggish.  Tkleah leapt at
the man-thing in a final defiant gesture, arms extended in a futile grasping
motion. He burst into a ball of flame, a brief shooting star that winked out in
an instant.  There was a dead calm in the wind for only a moment, then it
returned, angrier.

Johnny
watched in horrified awe as the creature seemed to ignite from the inside out. 
Its movement never wavered, only changed from living to fire to nothing.  It
burned itself out in mid air above the snowmobile, all the while sanguinary in
its expression.  A loathing directed solely at Johnny.  And in that brief
moment of hesitation, as he watched the thing die, Johnny had forgotten about
the other one.

Jrahl
began moving on the man-thing as did Tkleah.  His movement was fluid and
graceful, direct and full of purpose.  Each great stride covered nearly six
feet and he was insufferably close to the fire when he saw Tkleah die.  His cry
in the wind was brief and Jrahl felt his fever, it unsettled him.  Fear was
something they were not accustomed to, and this angered him.  Jrahl paused for
only a moment then continued, his expression showing even more disdain for the
puny things.

Jrahl
rounded the fire in a whisper, undetected by the prey.  He stopped suddenly
when he saw the two vermin bare their teeth at him and make a bold noise, a
noise that Jrahl found amusing because of its futility.  He glared back at them
in response and continued forward.  The scent of prey was in his nostrils now
and the hunger had taken over.  Jrahl would feed, and feed well on this one. 
And out of spite he would rip apart the thing's vermin as well.

Johnny
knew the other was very near, too near to use the bow again.  He let it drop
and began to slide the axe out of his belt.  Behind him he heard the dogs and
he whirled to face
it. 
But as he turned, his leg would take no more and
it lost what strength it held. Johnny fell to the side, the axe only half out
of his belt.

Roscoe
leapt at the dark thing and bit down as hard as he could on the arm he had
found.  He felt his teeth sink into the flesh of the thing and it made him want
to gag.  Its flesh was hard and difficult to hold onto, but Roscoe would not
let go.  He locked his jaw and instantly began to shake from side to side.  The
dark thing howled and it made Roscoe crazy, crazy with blood lust.  An old
voice was inside his head goading him on, and it made him shake harder.

Ouray
leapt at it as well but was not quite as quick as the younger dog.  A quick blow
from a huge hand caught Ouray in the ribs and knocked him over the top of the
snowmobile.  He landed with a hard thud and the cracking of ribs on the frozen
ground. The dog let out a sharp cry as the air was forced out of his lungs and
the pain began to register.  There was a searing pain in his side and his lungs
would not refill with air.

Roscoe
was having the ride of his life.  Up and down and side to side he went as the
dark thing tried to shake him off.  But the Pitt Bull would not let go.  He was
beginning to taste its blood and revulsion swept over the black dog, but still
he would not let go.  He felt a crushing weight strike his side and still he
would not let go, it only made him more truculent.

Ouray
felt light headed and his world was going dark.  He lifted his heavy head to
see Roscoe fighting the dark thing, over the top of the snowmobile seat.  Then
his head dropped to look at his own form, broken and immobile on the hard
ground.  Ribs protruded from the long gashes in his side.  The thing's claws
had sliced cleanly through flesh and muscle and bone.  Blood and even some of
Ouray's innards were beginning to pool on the ground next to him.

Suddenly,
the dog felt very tired and his head was too heavy to hold up.  He could no
longer see beyond the snowmobile and all he could hear was his own heartbeat,
slowing.  The cold was upon him and his body racked in tremors.  Then there was
darkness and no sound at all, only the pain and the incredible cold…Then only
the cold.  Then nothing at all.

Johnny
scrambled frantically to pull the axe free and finally managed it as the thing
stood over him, smiling.  Roscoe was hanging on one arm shaking wildly, but the
thing ignored him.  Johnny glanced at the dog and saw that his side was
bleeding profusely from four deep gouges there.  The dog was wild eyed though
and either didn't notice or didn't care.  Johnny saw only one chance and he
took it.

The
Indian jerked and rolled quickly to the left, towards the arm the dog was
hanging from, towards what remained of the fire.  The beast wheeled as Johnny
did so and scooped at him with its left hand, striking only rock.  Johnny
rolled right into the coals and his suit started to smolder, but the thing
stopped short.  It stood there, contemplating.

Johnny
took the time to stand and get a good hold on the axe.  The creature took
several good swings at Johnny but would come no closer and they were short.  He
raised his head and bellowed in frustration.  Then he looked back down at
Johnny and one side of his lip turned up in a grin.  The huge thing raised his
arm, and Roscoe, above his head, then flicked the nails of his other hand in
front of Johnny's face.

When
Johnny saw the razored fingers approaching the weakening, nearly limp form of
Roscoe, he did the only thing he could think of.  He swung the axe as hard and
fast as he could, catching the thing off guard and landing a blow to its side. 
The blade bit into the stringent flesh and stopped.  The impact passed through
the handle to Johnny's hands and he felt as though he'd hit concrete.

It
bellowed again and this time there was pain in its cry, its head stretched
towards the heavens.  It looked back down at Johnny and there was a new
determination etched on its face.  Never removing its gaze from Johnny, it
calmly reached over and pried the dog from its arm.  Roscoe had no more
strength and gave little resistance.  The thing tossed the dog aside like an
apple core and he landed heavily somewhere to the front of the snowmobile.

Just
as calmly, the thing pulled the axe from its side and tossed it past Johnny
into the fire.  Its arm was mottled in a pale gray where Roscoe had chewed it,
and strands of gray ran down its side from the gash there.  It let the injured
arm fall to its side but raised the other up in front of it.  Then it took a
step towards Johnny.

Johnny
tried to raise his arms up but it was much too fast for him.  Its hand swung
around in a blur of white and caught Johnny on the shoulder, knocking him to
the side and backward, over the fire.  Johnny landed on his back and felt the
air knocked out of him.  There was a tremendous throbbing in his left arm and
stars floated around his head. The thing's ululation cleared Johnny's head and
he looked up to see it across the fire from him, preparing to leap.

Johnny
reached behind him with his right hand and pulled out a handful of arrows. He
stretched as far as he could but the tips couldn't quite reach the coals of the
fire.  Inches, it was only inches.  Johnny glanced back at the thing and saw it
leaving the ground, a hell born projectile aimed at him.  There was a smug look
on its face as it registered the situation.  Johnny's attention was brought
back to the fire by the loud "POP!" of pitch.  The tiny explosion
rocked loose a log and it plopped down beside Johnny's arm.

He
moved the arrows across to it and they ignited instantly.  Johnny turned them
upward before him just as the thing cleared the fire.  There was actual
astonishment on its face as it fell towards Johnny.  The flaming weapon caught
it in the chest and its weight forced Johnny's hand back down to the ground,
which gave a strong backing to force the arrows deeper.  It landed half on
Johnny, half on the solid earth.

Its
weight was oppressive and again the Indian felt the wind knocked out of him.
The thing stood almost instantly, towering over Johnny, staring at the broken
shafts protruding from its own body.  There was puzzlement on its face, then
realization, then fear, and then anger.  Johnny began scooting backwards in a
mad scramble for survival while these emotions registered on the thing.

Jrahl
stared down at the insect thing in disbelief, already the fire within him
spreading.  In that brief moment before the flames consumed him he made no move
toward the human.  For the first time in his life, he understood fear and
pain.....and dying.  Jrahl cocked his head slightly as he studied the human; he
understood a great many things now.  Then the flames filled his head and he
winked out.

Johnny
moved perhaps six feet from the thing and stopped, it made no attempt to
follow.  It only stood there and stared.  It stood there and looked at him and
its expression changed, it softened somehow.  Johnny was confused and stared
back at it puzzled.  The thing ignited in a luminescent glow, a white hot fire,
and was consumed.  And again Johnny thought he saw something in the face of the
burning dead.  It seemed as though it cocked its head and gave an expression of
remorse.  Then it was gone.

Johnny
stood slowly.  His body ached all over and the fingers of his left hand were
numb.  He could feel the cold seeping in through the tears in his suit and
chill the blood running down his arm.  Limping around the fire he pulled the
empty quiver from his back and tossed it into the flames.  On the far side,
near the front of the snowmobile, he found his bow, broken.  It had been
snapped in two somehow during the fight.  He picked it up and threw it into the
fire as well.

A
whimper brought his attention back to the front of the machine.  Roscoe was a
heap several yards forward and to the left.  His side was bleeding, though not
profusely as before, and his breathing was shallow.  Johnny knelt by the black
dog's side and comforted him.  He scraped some snow from the ground and rubbed
it across the wound. It wasn't deep or even lethal, but the dog was exhausted.

Johnny
picked up Roscoe and gently carried him to the litter.  He laid him on it and
wrapped him in the skins and blankets that he'd carried supplied in.  The dog
looked at him appreciatively then laid his head heavily on the skins.  Johnny
turned around and looked solemnly down at the body of Ouray.  His eyes welled
with tears and he looked away.  It was as he had seen, and he had been unable
to change it.

Johnny
sniffed and rubbed a glove across his eyes.  He bent down and lifted the broken
heap as gently as he could and carried it to the fire.  Johnny let Ouray slip
from his arms and fall into the red hot coals.

"Go
with him Ouray. Hunt with him. Be with him.” Johnny mumbled between hard
swallows and the bright bursts of flame on the dog's body.  It was little more
than a campfire now, but it would be enough.

Johnny
turned and hobbled back to the snowmobile and climbed on it.  The motor
grumbled, reluctantly at first, then more enthusiastically until it was a high
pitched whine. Johnny glanced back at Roscoe then gunned the throttle.  Hayden
needed him in a bad way, and he only hoped that he wouldn't be too late.