The Howling Valley

Evening came, and with it, silence. The fear crept as a horde of ants into a cadaver: they had not found a suitable place to take shelter, and were now forced to travel under the sinister and oppressive thumb of the darkness. As night itself fell, the moonlight served only to light what was a few feet in front of them, and nothing more. Scotty and Thanh, even after having reloaded their weapons, were not remotely reassured.

As they clumsily traversed the region, moving slowly but surely, they remained unaware of the presence that slunk through the trees nearby, a pair of large, gleaming black eyes peering intently through the growth at the three visitors. The eyes themselves stood over thirty feet above the ground, supported by a colossal frame that moved almost silently over the forest floor, in sharp contrast to the impression it had made over the last few days. In truth, it knew these lands, as well as how to avoid being detected within them when the situation called for it.

As it slipped between the trees, treading softly as it could, it did nothing but observe. Closely monitoring the progress of its’ unwelcome guests, learning how they moved and operated, it waited. Waited to see what they would do, waited for the perfect opportunity to...intervene. It had suspected that something new had entered its’ territory the day before when it had discovered their tracks near its’ kill at the river, and from there had managed to pick up a faint scent. It had searched the bamboo forest, where the trail had lead it, and had made a show in hopes that the intruders would be scared off entirely. But it was not to be, and now-after the loud noises and ultimately seeing them for itself-it was ready for a whole new hunt.

*****

The clearing was dimly lit by nothing more than the moonlight as the group stopped to catch its' breath. Hours after running away from the river and they still had not found a suitable shelter in which to rest for the night. Their legs and lungs burned from exertion, their breaths were labored, and their bodies generally run ragged. Scotty leaned against a large tree, his rifle clutched limply at his side as Thanh took a swig from his canteen before swatting at an insect that flew into her face. Vinh stood several feet away, doubled over, trying to catch his breath. Sweat poured from their brows, as well as every other part of their bodies, as Vinh spoke to Thanh.

"He says we will have to stop soon, even without cover. We can't continue at this pace, Scotty, even you look half-dead."

"Gee, thanks," he gasped.

"It was not an insult, and you know it," she said, a touch of irritation creeping into her voice, "we are all on the verge of collapse."

"I've hucked as far as you have, you think I'm not aware?"

"Of course not. I'm just concerned for the well-being of the group." The irritation seemed to have increased a little.

Scotty took one more deep breath and leaned his head back against the tree, his helmet making a dull 'thunk' sound against its' bark. "I'm sorry, Thanh," he said quietly, "I know. I know you're just trying to talk sense to me. I'm really sorry, I'm just...tired and really scared. Please forgive me."

She put a hand on his shoulder. "There's nothing to forgive. I worry about you-about all of us-that's all. You need us, we need you, and right now we all need to rest. You are strong and capable, but you're not immortal; we can settle here and take shifts on watch like before."

"Too exposed," he whispered, "we need cover."

"Then let's start looking around," she said, before looking over at Vinh and whispering to him in Vietnamese. He responded in kind.

"He agrees, let's start searching."

"All right. We stay together, though. No splitting up; I don't want anyone getting lost."

Together, they ducked behind the tree, squinting in the dark for somewhere they could hunker down for the night. As they did so, a loud snap sounded from somewhere deeper in the woods. They all started, Scotty raising his rifle and pointing it into the gloom; Christ, what he wouldn't give for a fucking flashlight. He heard Thanh fumble to pull her pistol out of her belt, followed by the metallic 'click' of the safety. Another crack, coming from behind them. Scotty whipped around, sensing his companions do the same.

"Back to the clearing. Now."

They moved as one, slithering back out into the moonlit space, where they had some chance of seeing what might come at them.

"Into the middle. Back-to-back, cover the whole area. Thanh," Scotty whispered, "give him this." He reached down and pulled his personal 1911 out of his' holster, whereupon he handed it to the very frightened photojournalist. She complied, and whispered to him in Vietnamese-whereupon he looked at Scotty, gun in hand, and bit his lip, eyes wide. He nodded, and turned away from his Marine counterpart, raising the weapon and training it on the trees in front of him. Thanh did the same, with considerably less confidence and more than a slight tremor in her grip.

Snap! Another one, though where it came from was anyone's guess. The dense jungle disoriented them, threw off their directional hearing. Everything seemed to come from everywhere now, and that put them at a disadvantage. Then, a short, barking roar rang out, making them all jump. That was strange, Scotty thought, very strange indeed. A predator doesn't make itself known to its' quarry, he thought; not a good one, at any rate. Another loud crack and a brief crash as it knocked over something sizeable.

"It's toying with us," he whispered.

"You think that it's intelligent enough for that?!" Thanh whispered back. Before he could answer, Vinh interjected angrily. Thanh went quiet again, and Scotty could only assume that he'd told them both to shut the fuck up and pay attention.

He was convinced, as periodic cracks, snaps and guttural barking occasionally broke the silence of the Vietnamese night. that they were not only being hunted, but deliberately fucked with. It's trying to shake us, he thought crazily, it tracked us here and now it wants to soften us up before it moves in. A child playing with his food before he eats, Scotty thought grimly as he scanned the spaces between the tall trees with his rifle.

Then, there was a much softer 'crack' from behind Scotty, one that very clearly came from the edge of the clearing. Before Scotty could react, Vinh shouted something and there was a single deafening gunshot as he fired Scotty's .45 into the darkness. A deafening scream as something absolutely colossal swept into the clearing, bellowing and snarling as it went. Scotty was struck violently and thrown back at least five feet, landing hard in a heap of terror and confusion. His ears ringing from the gunshot and his body pained from the impact, he rolled onto his back and looked up to see an absolutely fucking massive form that he couldn't entirely make out towering above him-fucking hell, it had to be thirty feet tall!-with a pair of inhumanly long arms that connected to a lean, but powerful torso. The head was large and roughly humanoid-shaped, but it sported a pair of long horns that swooped back in vague s-shapes, ending in wicked points that could have gored a water buffalo. And beneath those were a pair of large, black (or was that just because of the dark?) eyes that glittered like pieces of obsidian-and they were looking directly at him.

The head ducked low, and it began to stalk toward him. He began to fumble around, and realized that his rifle was pinned underneath him. He rushed to move enough to where he could pull it out, but just then there came a shout to his left, followed by three gunshots. The monster whipped its' head around and roared, which was met by the barking of fire from Scotty's M-16. He'd managed to free it from under him, brace it between his knees and roughly sight the thing in. Multiple rounds found their mark; the thing screamed and reared up, Scotty getting a glimpse in the low moonlight of the thing's hands. They were huge, almost lizard-like in appearance, with opposable thumbs, and each tipped with a wicked, curved claw that reminded him of the scythe blades he'd seen used to cut grass.

The screams and howls of the beast had been frightening enough from a distance, but to hear them up close was something else entirely. They were utterly alien and terrible, roars of primal rage that dripped with malice and predatory dominance. This thing was the master of its' domain and they were mere upstarts; even against the gunfire it did not cower or submit. Instead it screamed in pain, surprise and anger as it brought its' forearms down to the ground with a dull 'boom', its' barely-lit visage barreling toward Scotty. He instinctively half-jumped, half-rolled to the left as it flew past him, Scotty sensing a gaping maw packed with huge, pointed canines and a very long, almost prehensile tongue. It rammed into a tree, barely fazed as it turned and reared up again, roaring.

His rifle had locked back empty. Vinh was firing at the thing, shouting and spitting at it, as Scotty scrambled to pull another magazine out of his kit. As he extracted one, dropping the empty one from the rifle and fumbling to load in the new one, a few errant gunshots rang out as someone was trying to do damage. It screamed and whipped its' colossal arm (Jesus, that thing alone has to be almost three times longer than I am tall, Scotty thought) around toward an unseen assailant. There was no scream, but that didn't mean that someone wasn't going to wind up with a broken back or a split gut if it kept swiping, so Scotty decided to make a drastic decision: he opened a pouch on his kit and felt the smooth, ovular metal surface he was looking for...

"EVERYBODY GET DOWN!" He hoped that they were both alive to hear him.

The metallic clinging sound of the grenade's safety lever springing away from the rest of the explosive seemed to ring as loudly as the monster's cries in his ears. The pin dangling from his left index finger, he reared back with the steel device clutched in his right hand, and arced it high into the air. He turned and jumped into the trees, landing on his stomach. He shot his hands up, covering his head.

The explosion was even louder than the monster it had meant to silence. The sounds of the entire world had been replaced by the ear-shattering detonation, and Scotty looked back to see the beast low to the ground, roaring and howling in what sounded like pain and unbridled fury. He saw it turn back towards him jerkily, before he heard a ‘pop’ over the ringing in his ears. A gunshot! So at least one of them had survived!

It recoiled slightly, and bellowed before apparently changning its’ mind and turning around to dart-surprisingly fast for something its’ size-back into the jungle from whence it came, like some great and terrible wraith. Scotty struggled to his feet, dragging his rifle with him and he stumbled into the center of the clearing, his eyes wide as dinner plates and his breathing labored and harsh, listening as its’ horrifying vocalizations faded into the distance.

A presence to his left caught his attention. He turned to see the stumbling form of Nguyen Thanh, 1911 held limply in her right hand, her form illuminated softly in the moonlight. Her expression was one of abject terror and exhaustion, a trickle of blood running down her temple and left cheek. She finally choked out one solitary sentence after they stared at one another for several seconds.

“I...I ran out of ammo and I couldn’t manage to reload. I’m sorry.”

He took a step toward her, and she half-walked, half-fell the rest of her way to him. They embraced, her falling into his arms, him supporting her small, light body as she began to sob into his chest. He said nothing, just held her tightly against him, one hand caressing her head as she vented her fears, frustrations and uncertainties through tears, and tears alone.

*****

Dawn came, and with it the discovery of their Viet Cong companion.

Vinh had been knocked clear off his feet by the monster during the fight, and had collided hard with a tree at the south edge of the clearing. His torso was covered in deep purple and yellow bruises; the impact had likely ruptured several of his vital organs and broken countless bones. Scotty didn’t know if the man had died instantly, but he sure hoped that that had been the case.

The two survivors had elected to stay by the clearing and try to rest after the brutal confrontation. They had simply gone behind a large tree, fallen down next to it and passed out (luckily no inquisitive centipedes had crawled up either of their pant legs). They had gone to look for their missing comrade once it was light, both genuinely concerned about what had become of him.

In a heap on the ground, there he had been. Eyes closed, the pistol Scotty had given him twenty feet away, with its’ mag empty and the slide locked back. He’d fought til he couldn’t, and hadn’t lied down. He went out like a true soldier, like a real man, Scotty thought. Fuckin’ A, Vinh, you earned a ticket to Heaven if anyone ever did, you tough son of a bitch, you. Enemy or not, Scotty had to respect that kind of courage.

He refused to leave the fallen VC crumpled up in the clearing. He carried the man’s body behind the tree they’d slept behind, and proceeded to lay it down, crossing the arms and straightening the posture. Scotty wished he could have buried him; the guy didn’t deserve being left out to rot like this.

“The motherfucker,” Scotty snarled, Thanh looking up at him as they stood over Vinh’s lifeless body, “I don’t care how big it is, I will pay that thing back for this. Even if I don’t kill it, I will give it something to remember us by until the day it keels the fuck over.”

“We need to escape, Scotty. That is the priority.”

“I know,” he said, “but if I get the opportunity, I will rip that thing a new asshole, mark my fuckin’ words, Miss Nguyen.”

“How much ammunition do you have left?”

“Two rifle mags. Couple for my .45, plus the claymores. Those might come in handy. Oh yeah, and one more grenade.”

“We’re lucky it took the brunt of the first one.”

“No shit. Now let’s get on the road here, that thing might show up again; it’s tough as nails, and I don’t want to be here if it decides to come back and tango.”

Leaving the body of their fallen companion behind, they checked Scotty’s compass and struck out southwest. It was around this time that they discovered a temporary solution to their food shortage issue: a cluster of durian trees that were situated a quarter of a mile from the clearing. Thanh pointed them out, claiming that they were, in fact, a very popular fruit in her country. Scotty thought that they looked like pinecones, and that they smelled like a mixture of rotting flesh and onions (he didn’t admit the last part, out of fear that he might offend her).

They proved tastier than he’d expected; sort of a mild and sweet flavor that he found himself appreciating more and more as he sat with Thanh at the base of the tree, scooping the flesh from its’ husk with his knife after slicing the thing open. Each of them sat in silence, slurping them down, simply grateful to have found sustenance of some kind-even if Scotty thought that they smelled foul.

After loading as many of the durians as they could fit into Scotty’s bag, they continued on their way, avoiding the river and moving as quickly as they could in spite of their sore limbs and minor injuries. It was still slow going, what with having to climb steep inclines, traverse uneven slopes and push through dense foliage, all while swatting at insects and looking out for the bestial creature that had attacked them the night before.

“Do you think we scared it?” Thanh asked while they were hiking through a clearer section of jungle. “I hope that we did, and that it never comes around again.”

“I hope so too, but I don’t know. Like I said this morning, it’s clearly tough as nails; it survived a direct impact from a frag, for Christ’s sake.”

“It may have died later...”

“Maybe. I don’t want to hang around long enough to find out. It’s already killed one of us, and...” He sighed and trailed off, leaving the sentence dangling like a worm on a hook.

“Are you upset about Vinh, Scotty?”

“Christ, woman, how are you this good at reading people?”

“I’m a journalist, remember? Even though I mostly take pictures, I have to be good at reading others.”

“Fair enough. And yeah, I...I am. Upset, I mean. The guy was my enemy, and he tried to kill me. To kill us, even, but...when he saw the danger we were in, he stood by us and did the right thing. I half expected him to shoot me when I gave him my gun last night, or to try and run off. I thought he'd attack me after I cut his bonds back in the bamboo forest, but...he didn’t. Maybe he would have eventually, I have no idea, but...look, I just feel...conflicted, is the word, I suppose. I’ve felt that way about the war for a long time; nothing about it is simple or straightforward. Vinh made it even more complicated for me, and...fuck, I’m just angry and confused.”

“It sounds to me as if you’re going through an existential crisis of sorts. I would say only this, Scotty: he may have been your enemy, but Vinh and his comrades are people like you, who want to protect the families and the land that they love-much like you do, Scotty. To suddenly see a person as human when you’ve been trained to see them as a monster will certainly shake your belief system to its’ core; that is neither unusual, nor is it a sign of weakness on your part.”

"I think you're right," Scotty said quietly.

"I know I am," she continued, "I've been documenting this war and the effect it has on many of those involved in it for several years. I have seen some of its' horrors up close-close enough to reach out and touch. The disillusionment you feel? I feel it too. I personally discovered that once you look past the propaganda and see it for yourself, the truth is apparent, whether others accept it or not: war is a cruel bitch, and nothing about it is easy."

"Hearing you swear is so bizarre to me, Thanh."

"Fuck you, I don't have to be professional out here," she said, before laughing softly. Scotty joined her, chuckling along as they made their way toward the foot of the eastern mountain range. They'd discussed their plan earlier, and he decided to follow the mountains the whole way down-which, in hindsight, Scotty, thought, should have been their plan all along. It would allow them to look for caves, or maybe even a pass, the entire time that they traveled.

The first half of that particular wish was granted at around three o'clock that day. They'd reached the cliffs several hours before, and had walked alongside them ever since until Thanh, looking closely at the rock face, spied a crevice that was about three feet wide and three times as high leading into the mountain. They stood ten feet from the entrance, partially obscured by the wide fronds of a large plant, staring at it apprehensively.

"You think another leopard's in there? Maybe a tiger?"

"Shut up, Scotty."

"Don't act like I'm being unreasonable."

"It probably would have let us know by now, Scotty, if it were here."

"I could toss my other grenade in there." That earned him a punch on the arm.

"Let's just look," she whispered, "we need somewhere to stay and this could be it."

Scotty readied his rifle, and the photojournalist pulled her .45. He lead the way, and squeezed through the crack and into the stone passageway. It narrowed almost to the point of discomfort while canting to the right. Then, it opened up into a far, far wider space, and they stood side by side after exiting the entrance, peering into the near-pitch blackness.

From what Scotty could make out, the space was at least thirty feet wide and half that in height. They couldn't be sure exactly how far back it went, however, not without a light source.