The Howling Valley

“I may be trapped in an unknown valley between my country and Cambodia, but at least my companion and I are armed,” Nguyen Thanh smirked, holding up her captured handgun, “I am not looking forward to the possibility of meeting a tiger or a bear, however; I wonder if I would even be able to stop it with something like this.”

Scotty leaned his head back against the rock wall of the rocky alcove, his helmet making a ‘thunk’ sound, and chuckled heartily.

He’d found a tall enough tree with low branches after leaving Thanh and Vinh by the pool, and had managed to shimmy his way up to the top. He hadn’t been lying: they were indeed in a valley with sheer cliffsides that stretched over a hundred feet up on both sides-an insurmountable obstacle to him and his newfound party. The south had been too obscured by haze and rain, but he hoped that there would be some way-any way-to make their way out of the area in that direction. Otherwise...well, they’d cross that bridge when they came to it.

He’d told Thanh all of this only after returning and insisting that they find shelter before making any major decisions on what to do next. The rain was still pouring, and they’d be facing trench foot or crotch rot if they didn’t get somewhere drier. In the cliff between the bamboo grove and the pool they’d discovered a small alcove, just large enough to fit Scotty, Thanh and their unwelcome guest. After pulling Vinh to his feet, Scotty had made him walk in front of him while they trudged toward their newfound shelter.

“We need to build a fire, our clothes must be dried out,” Thanh said, “but is there anything we can burn? With all the rain...”

“Nope. Everything’ll be too wet.”

“Wonderful.”

It was dark now, but the rain was at least slackening off. Scotty looked at his watch: half past eight.

“We’ll stay here tonight and head south in the morning,” he said, “it’s too dark to make any real progress. I’ll stay on watch for a few hours, you mind taking it after that?”

“Yes. Try not to stay awake too long, Scotty. You need rest.”

“Fine, tell, what’s his name, Vinh? Yeah, tell him to rest up.”

She did, and the man glared at Scotty before clumsily rolling over onto his side, facing away from them. Fucking asshole, Scotty thought bitterly, it’s his fault we’re here to begin with, what fucking right does he have to be pissed off?

“I am glad that you are here with me, Scotty. You seem like a good and dependable man. And thank you for protecting me back in the cave.” Thanh’s quiet voice floated over from the rear of the alcove.

“Well, you saved my life back at the ambush. Now we just need to stick together, and we may get out of this place.”

“I believe that we will do just that. Also, I must ask...what will we do with him?”

Scotty glanced over at the huddled form of the Viet Cong soldier known as Vinh. He did not move, did not give any indication that he cared about what they were saying.

“I guess we’ll take him with us. It’s too dangerous to let him go here, and now that I think about it, I don’t really feel...comfortable, I guess is the word, with the idea of just killing and dumping him. Sure, he’s part of the reason we’re here, but it’s not his fault; he’s a soldier and he was doing his duty, as bizarre as it may sound coming from me. I suppose we’ll hand him over to the brass, if we make it back in one piece.”

“‘When’,” she corrected him sharply, “‘when’ we make it back.”

“Yeah, sorry. Get some sleep, Thanh.”

She smiled at him, her dark brown eyes twinkling at him in the moonlight that poured through the dissipating clouds. Using her damp flak jacket as a makeshift pillow, she curled up and lay still. Scotty, clutching his M-16 in his lap, turned his attention to the darkened jungle, the sound of the nearby waterfall unfortunately hampering his ability to hear anything else that might be skulking around. Just stay sharp and don’t slack off, Scotty, he told himself. That’s when people die, remember? And if they die, they’ll die because of you.

His silent vigil commenced, and he waited.

*****

It was almost midnight when the first scream shattered the relative quiet like a brick through a glass coffee table.

Scotty, whose eyes had been growing steadily heavier in spite of his best efforts to keep them open, suddenly found himself wide awake. He stood and held his rifle at the ready, pointing it into the darkness just beyond the border of their shelter. Had he just imagined that? What the fuck?

Then it came again, clear as day this time. It rang across the valley, seeming to fill the very air itself.

“What was that?!” Thanh’s whisper startled him. He turned to answer, but the hellish scream came again, cutting him off. He couldn’t tell where it was coming from, but he was certain that it was fairly close; probably within a quarter of a mile. It came again, holy shit it was loud! He ducked back into the little alcove and huddled next to Thanh, who was against the wall, silent and unmoving. Vinh had awoken as well and was whispering rapidly to himself, his voice dripping with terror. Scotty didn’t need a translator to know that he was probably praying.

The sound came again, an unholy call from another world that started as a high-pitched scream, but deepened into a drawn-out howl that sent chills down the spines of the trio. After this, they heard in the distance the distinct sound of cracking, splintering wood, followed by a colossal crash. Another howl, then a deep, throaty roar that echoed throughout the valley. Whatever was out there sounded like it was knocking over entire trees now.

Utter horror coursed through Scotty’s veins, poisoning him from within. Thanh reached out and clung to him, the cool touch of her pistol resting against his shoulder. Her breathing was quick, and her free hand clenching his flak jacket tightly. He pulled her into him, and she did not resist. As the screaming, howling and roaring continued, they held one another, both unashamed in their fear of whatever stalked the land beyond their meager shelter.

Another bout of cracking and splintering, followed by another loud crash, but this time it sounded as if it were coming from further away. The howling scream came again, and yes, it did seem to be moving away from them. There was a brief moment of silence, followed by a brief, barking roar. This repeated thrice more and was concluded with a low, almost mournful howl that was almost certainly coming from somewhere much further away than it had been.

There was no sound other than that of the nearby waterfall now. Scotty was still afraid to move, as was Thanh. Vinh was also completely still, curled into a ball on the stone floor of the alcove. Scotty could not see his face, but he was positive that it was screwed up into an expression of pure terror.

“Scotty, please get some sleep. I will take the next watch.” Thanh’s whisper was barely audible over the waterfall.

“Won’t be able to.”

“You need to try, for both our sakes...please? I understand that you’re afraid, I am as well, but you won’t be able to function without rest.”

He looked over at the small woman next to him. Her light brown skin, her button nose, her dark hair, which was normally in a stylish bob, was now disheveled and sweaty. All of it drew him to her eyes, which were as wide as dinner plates. He hoped she wouldn’t see the terror in his own; he was a Marine, after all, and he was supposed to be a fearless fighting machine. But basic biological response to overwhelming stimuli tended to override even the most thorough training, and as Scotty lay down on the cool stone, he accepted the fact that he was very, very afraid. He would not let it control him and dictate his actions, however-he was still a soldier; he had a duty to get back to his platoon and to protect Miss Nguyen every step of the way. He tried to remind himself that he was not weak or helpless, but as he lay down, jacket under his head, he found himself wondering just how true that would turn out to be.

*****

The crunch of river rocks, sediment and sand under their boots sounded nearly as loud as machine gun fire as the trio of Scotty, Thanh and Vinh made its’ way down the southbound river’s shoreline. The sun was out in full force again, without a cloud in the sky to impede it. Its’ aggressive heat rapidly drying their soaked clothing, a small comfort for which they were all silently glad to have been granted. They could see clearly, they were somewhat rested, and they’d munched on some of Scotty’s rations (even Vinh, who Scotty had included begrudgingly in their meager feast).

Vinh, hands still bound behind his back, was in the lead. He never spoke and only occasionally looked back at his captors, but he almost constantly kept his attention focused on the tree lines that flanked both sides of the river. His eyes were always wide and nearly unblinking, and he often had to shake his head in order to move his dark hair out of his eyes.

Thanh and Scotty brought up the rear, only a few feet behind the Viet Cong trooper. Scotty had resolved to always keep his rifle in hand with the safety off, not wanting to have to waste a second in order to bring it into action, while Thanh’s newly-acquired pistol and magazines were tucked firmly into her belt. He’d gone over the basics of its’ use before they’d left the alcove by the pool that morning, but had refused any target practice, reminding her that “if we run into whatever we heard last night out in the jungle, we may need every round we have”.

The jungle itself was merciless not just because of its’ inhospitable nature, but due to its’ propensity for illusion and trickery. Every leaf, frond, branch and trunk could form the face of some twisted, grinning psychopath or terrible beast at the right angle and in the proper lighting. Every breeze that caused even the slightest movement of the flora seemed to resemble the stalking movements of some unknown lunatic. Scotty felt that he should have been used to this feeling by now; he’d spent months wandering through near-impenetrable forest, any stretch of which could be hidden a gang of militant, bloodthirsty enemies. So why was he so terrified now, and why did he feel as if he were desperately out of his element?

“What do you think it was? An animal of some kind, I’m sure, but I have never heard an animal call like that before.”

“I have no idea,” Scotty replied, “and I’m not so sure that I want to find out. It sounded big enough to knock over trees, and that’s more than enough to keep me from wanting to get a look at it.”

“I agree. I am no zoologist, and I have no desire to study-“

Vinh stopped suddenly, and Scotty nearly plowed into him. Before he could chastise the man, however, he looked ahead and saw what he was sure was the reason for Vinh’s action. All three fell silent at the sight before them.

Stretching across the shallow, gurgling river was a felled tree, approximately forty feet in length. It had broken off near the base, the bright yellow wood within contrasting sharply against the deep brown bark. The break was crude and mangled, indicating that a truly violent and powerful force had caused it; globs of sap were hardening throughout the sharp and mangled spires. Around twenty feet along the trunk was a series of deep, parallel gashes that had to five to eight inches deep apiece. They stood out like flesh wounds on a human torso.

No, Scotty thought, his blood chilling even in the immense heat, those can’t be what I think they are. There is no fucking way that those could be claw marks. I refuse to believe that, he thought crazily, nothing alive is big and powerful enough to snap a tree that size off at the fucking base.

Vinh turned his head to look at Thanh, and he spoke briefly in a hushed, terrified voice.

“He says we must go, and go quickly. He says that there is something terrible here and that we cannot linger,” Thanh whispered.

“No fuckin’ shit, come on,” he hissed back, “and let’s pick up the pace. We don’t know how long this valley is, and we need to leave before the locals know we’re here.”

Thanh did not reply. Vinh was silent. Scotty put on a brave face in order to hide his sheer terror, which was not helped by the sight of odd indentations in the shore: extremely large prints that appeared vaguely lizard-like, each digit ending in a round, deep puncture that signified a set of extremely large nails-ones that made his Ka-Bar look like a pocket knife. As they went around the broken stump of the felled tree, he saw that they were pressed deeply into the sand and sediment all over the immediate area, where they seemed to turn back into the water, and he assumed that their owner had stormed back into the jungle after mangling the tree.

He didn’t know whether or not Thanh or Vinh had noticed the tracks, but he decided against saying anything about it anyway. Everyone was terrified enough already, and there was no reason to pile onto that. Instead, they pushed forward, trudging their way down along the river, its’ current and the calls of a few birds the only sounds to hear.

Ten minutes later, Thanh stopped and grabbed Scotty’s jacket sleeve. He stumbled a little, then stopped.

“Thanh, what-“

“Look,” she whispered, pointing to the opposite bank.

He peered across the twenty-foot span of water to where her finger directed him, and he saw the new omen that the valley had seen fit to present them with, splayed out in a vile, grotesque display of unhinged lunacy upon the dull brown sand.

It appeared to be a deer carcass-or, rather, half of one. Only the front half of the animal was present, while the back was missing entirely. The offal spilled sloppily from the ripped abdomen, one forelimb twisted so far off its’ axis that it stuck almost straight up in the air. Blood saturated the ground around the primary wound, and even from a distance Scotty could see the cloud of flies that had gathered around it to feast. Where the hind section of the animal was now, they had no idea.

Vinh spoke quietly to his captors. Thanh’s head snapped over to look at him, and she listened.

“He says we must leave now, that it is unwise to linger around a recent kill. He says that whatever did this will likely be back for the rest of the animal.”

“I know,” Scotty replied quietly, “I used to hunt as a kid. Let’s move.”

In silence, they moved further south. The dead deer faded into the distance behind them, the flies that swarmed around it far too concerned with their meal to notice the departure.

*****

“Why did you join the Marines, Scotty?”

Scotty snapped out of his paranoid near-fugue state and looked down at the earnest, curious, and very pretty face of the photojournalist walking next to him. He apparently hadn’t answered quickly enough, and she continued her line of questioning.

“I’m sure it is a common question, one you receive often, but my curiosity is overwhelming.”

“I was drafted,” he said simply, “I come from a...not very wealthy family, I guess you could say. Not like they could have paid off the recruiters or politicians in order to get me out of it, you know? Also my dad served in the Second World War; he was in the Navy. He essentially bullied me into going to boot camp, into not dodging.”

“He sounds as if he cares more about upholding a legacy than whether or not you live or die,” she said incredulously.

“You’re right, I think,” he said quietly, “but I was the one who folded. I could have run to Canada, but...I didn’t. I gave in, now I’m here risking my ass for nothing. It’s my fault, really.”

She was quiet for a moment before Scotty chuckled. She looked at him quizzically, and, noticing her confused expression, said “you know what’s funny?”

“What?” She asked.

“He wasn’t even a soldier; not really, anyway.”

“Who wasn’t a soldier?”

“My dad. He was a cook; he worked in a battleship mess hall during the war. The only time he fired a rifle was in basic training. But he wouldn’t hear any talk of not doing my duty; I would either be a man and fight Charlie or he’d disown me. All so he could live vicariously through his son and pretend to be part of the lineage of American heroes, a group of regular G.I. Joes.”

“And so you ended up here,” she mused.

“I did. Now I’m stomping through some hidden valley of death in the middle of nowhere with a photojournalist and an enemy soldier trying to avoid something that’s ripping up trees and cutting the fucking wildlife to pieces.”

“That is somewhat hurtful, Scotty. I haven’t held you back or caused any problems for us, I don’t think.”

“You haven’t,” he sighed, “I should clarify that I don’t regret being here with you personally. You might not be a soldier, but you listen, you’re sharp, and you’ve already saved my life. If I were going to be trapped out here with a civvie, you’d be at the top of the list.”

She smiled and looked out at the river. “Then I suppose it’s fortunate that you already have me.” Scotty could have sworn that he saw a hint of a blush on her cheeks.

“What about you? When did you learn English, and why did you choose this career path?”

“The short answer is that I learned as a child,” she said, “my father was a diplomat and performed extensive work in the United States embassy, both in Saigon and in the U.S. itself, and he felt it would be a useful skill for me to possess. I have also been to the States several times, and I greatly enjoyed it; in fact, I hope to relocate there someday. As for my career? It was after my father was assassinated in his office by a Northern spy several years ago. I was told that they considered him a traitor to the Vietnamese people, and that he was aiding the enemy.”

“Jesus,” Scotty said quietly.

“Yes. I chose this path because that was when the conflict became...I suppose you could say, real...? For me? The war took my father away from me, even though he was not a soldier. The infiltrator shot him dead with a pistol merely because of his work. That was when I knew that I needed to show the world the reality of the war, and what it takes away from us all. I wanted to show them the truth of it, not just propaganda like Thieu, Giap and your President. That it’s cruel, devastating and complicated, not glorious.”

“Sounds noble,” Scotty said, thoroughly impressed by this explanation.

“I did not do it to be noble, but I appreciate the sentiment,” she said, looking out at the river, “I did it because I felt that I needed to”

“Makes you nobler-and smarter-than me, at any rate,” he said, “I’m only here because it was either this or risk imprisonment and disownment.”

“Mm. I disagree, seeing as I’m standing right here beside you in this so-called valley of death,” she said, “how smart does that make me?”

Scotty began to laugh softy. Even though she was still looking at the river, he could sense the sly smile on her face.

*****

“It’s human, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it’s human. You see what’s left of the uniform, right?”

“I do. I simply do not want to believe it, Scotty.”

From beside them, Vinh muttered in Vietnamese, then suddenly spat on the pile of bones and decayed cloth on the cave floor.

“He says it is one of the French dogs from before your time. One of the occupational troops from the colonial days, when it was still called French Indochina in the West.”

“Guess we aren’t the first ones to find this place,” Scotty mumbled, “doesn’t bode too well for us, does it?”

“I will not be like him, and none of us will if we keep our heads,” Thanh said seriously, “no more talk like that, Scotty.”

“Yes ma’am,” he said, smiling and giving her a mock salute. She rolled her eyes.

“I suppose we’ll stay here tonight, then? I am not terribly comfortable sleeping next to a corpse, but better that than exposed to both the elements and...whatever is stalking around this place.”