The Winter People by Bret Tallent Read Free Book Online Page B

there staring at himself, he couldn't explain why he
felt this way.
    He rubbed a hand
across his chin and felt the stubble that had always plagued him.  No matter
how often he shaved, Hayden always had a five 'o clock shadow.  He raised one
bush of an eyebrow, sighed, and shook his head.  He then turned to find his
clothes hanging on the back of the door and quickly dressed, remembering why he
was up.  He shut off the light and left to the living room to finish dressing,
his progress followed by the snap, crackle, pop of his joints.
     
    ***
    Hayden plodded
slowly towards the Ranger Station, his snow chains thumping and hammering at
the fender wells and the pavement.  Out the windows of the Suburban he could
see the clouds being tossed about by the wind, shapeless forms that seemed
foreign and surreal against the backdrop.  The sky had been crystal clear when
he had gone to bed, now he could see the storm moving in.  In the distance was
darkness.
    A void without
light or stars or even the mountains that he knew were there.  It was simply a
dark nothing with no depth or edges.  It was a wall that was moving towards
him, enveloping everything in its path, and devoured the land with its
progress.  This was the first time Hayden had seen a storm front with form. 
This truly was a front, a visible wall that stretched across the heavens to the
north.  It looked unnatural and somewhere deep inside him a primitive voice
said, "Be afraid."
    Hayden pulled into
the driveway of the station and his headlights flashed across the back of a
dark colored Subaru, black, he thought.  It had New Mexico tags and he assumed
that it belonged to one of the two Johnny had mentioned.  He drove up to it and
parked beside it, the Ranger vehicles were no where in sight.  Probably in the
garage so that they could start them in the morning, he thought.  Hayden left
his vehicle running and honked the horn twice.
    Three forms, dark
against the light from within, emerged from the building which served as office
and part-time home to the Forest Rangers.  The first two were fairly tall, the
third considerably shorter by nearly a foot.  They were bundled and they walked
quickly with their heads down.  It made Hayden think of mourners that were late
for a funeral.  A bad comparison he decided.  The two taller figures crossed
his headlights and started for the passenger door while the shorter made his
way to Hayden's window.  He knew that this was Johnny from his size and the
limp.
    Hayden rolled down
his window and motioned for the other two to climb on in.  All he could make
out of Johnny beneath the fur lined parka was his large brown eyes and the scar
that partially closed the right one.  "Howdy John!" he yelled above
the wind, the cold air causing his throat to ache as he sucked it in.
    "Hayden,"
Johnny shouted, "This is Nick and Mike, the guys I told you about,"
motioning to them with a tip of his head.  "I figured it would be easier
if they showed you the Jeep.  I gotta stay here, but I'll see you when you get
back."
    "Don't wait
up for us John.  I can talk to you tomorrow in town.  Your shift's ending then,
isn't it?"
    "Yeah, I go
back in the morning."
    "I'll see
that these two get home.  Good night John."
    "G'night
Hayden, I'll look for you tomorrow."  Johnny didn't wait for a reply; he
turned and quickly ran a hobble skip run to the door.
    Hayden understood,
this cold was hell and probably didn't do much for Johnny's leg either.  He
rolled his window back up and turned to regard the two young men who had
climbed into the front seat with him.  They were taking off neoprene ski masks
that attached in the back with Velcro, but left their toboggans on.  When
Johnny had said kids, he was expecting eighteen or so, but these guys were in
their mid to late twenties.  Hayden's surprise was visible.
    "Which one of
you belongs to that WRX?" he finally said.
    "That's
mine.  I'm Nick Boscoe and this. . ."
    "Must be Mike
Gallegos,"