The Heroes of Howlin Ridge

My Dearest Virginia,

It has been almost a year since I last felt the gentle warmth of your touch or heard the soft melody of your voice. Three years since I last gazed into your deep, indigo eyes. Every day apart, the memory of our love fades like a dream faced with the hard light of morning. I cling tightly to the heart-shaped locket you sent me in hopes that it will keep our connection strong. I swear to you, Virginia, some nights I can feel your heartbeat right next to mine.

I think back often to the time before. Before the war, before the country splintered, before men went mad. We were just school-children back then. We spent our youth on the football field. They called us the heroes of Howlin Ridge, the paper did, when we won that game, me; your brother, Tommy; and Big Duke.

It was Duke who convinced us to enlist. Not long after the New Confederacy declared their independence, they were desperate for people. Promises were made. We couldn’t resist, we were sure there wouldn’t be any fighting, all of this would be worked out between men in power, it would be tense for a while but in the end, it would settle again. But nothing settled as more factions formed. There was no avoiding the war.

We went into the war expecting glory, the heroes of Howlin Ridge. But in this war, there is no use for glory or heroes, only survivors, and we have precious few of those. We had no idea what we would see in the dark places of battle, no idea what had been awakened by the mixing of blood and oil and hate in the deep places of the earth.

We were stationed at Fort Kilgore in Morgantown, right on the front lines. Our first few skirmishes were small fights between us and the forces of the New American States. Most days were filled with tense waiting and watching for any incursion from the north.

After six long months of nothing but the occasional dust-up, we were finally given a mission. There were rumors of a chapel across the border in Uniontown where the northern forces were preparing an attack that dwarfed all their previous attempts. We were elated, another chance for the heroes of Howlin Ridge to find glory, as we were wont to do. We were to go in, scout the area, see what was being prepared, and then report back. We went to bed that night excited with visions of thwarting the enemy and coming home to a hero's welcome.

We left under cover of night, planning to cross the front line at the northern trailhead of the Appalachian Trail. Few people watched the trail any longer, it was too rugged for any size military unit to go through, so it would just be the three of us. Long-range communication had been disabled shortly after the war started, so we knew there was no calling for help. It was just us and we were excited for that fact.

We crossed the border in the dead of night, it was deserted just like we planned, and made our way to Uniontown. We encountered no one, most people had abandoned the area around the front lines. However, just to be safe, we moved at night and hid out during the day in one of the many abandoned houses. Those were good days, we were full of cheer and anticipation, talking often about what we might encounter and how we might fight it. Duke would play his guitar and Tommy would play the harmonica just like they used to do at the bonfires on Friday nights.

When we approached Uniontown, we found none of the resistance we had expected. Instead, we found only death. At first, it just seemed like there was something wrong in the trees. We were in the height of spring but the leaves seemed to already be turning. We noticed the change but thought nothing of it.

The leaves got thinner and thinner until eventually one would have thought we were in the throes of winter except for the unseasonably warm temperature. Eventually, the death in the trees spread to the world around them. Flowers wilted, grey and lifeless grass barely hung on to the dry earth. Tommy got spooked but Duke just teased him like he used to and Tommy kept going more out of spite than anything else.

We were about five miles out when we saw our first body. We saw the checkpoint from a distance and started to talk about how to bypass it, before Tommy noticed that nothing was moving. We watched for an hour just to be sure before we approached the scene. Sitting on the ground and leaned against the guard booth was what was once a man. He looked as if he’d been dead for years. His uniform identified him as Private Santiago. His log book’s last entry was one month prior.

Private Santiago wasn’t the only soldier to find a sudden end. All over the checkpoint, there were the remains of men who seemed to have met their maker in the middle of daily tasks. People dead in the middle of meals and while lying in bed, soldiers fallen at their desks and at their station. Even the food stores had rotted as if they’d been left for years.

We picked our way past the death and kept moving towards the chapel, the world growing grey and colorless as we approached. Even the homes seemed to be aging far beyond their years as if the world was decaying at an alarming rate. Duke was ready to turn back, convinced we’d be dead if we continued to move forward, but we got him to keep going, we hadn’t noticed any signs of the aging on ourselves. Whatever had happened seemed to have happened all at once.

As we approached the chapel, the town around it looked like ancient ruins of a far gone civilization. The wood of the houses had rotted and fallen apart and all that remained were shadows of the places that once stood.

In the middle of all of this stood the chapel, not much different than the one your daddy preached in. Somehow still standing amongst all of the decay. We entered searching for any explanation for the horrible scene outside. Just before we gave up when Tommy called out that he’d found something. In a broom closet behind a metal shelf, there was a small set of stairs that seemed to lead to a cellar of some sort. For just a second I considered ignoring it and going home, we’d already scouted and had plenty to report, but we were the heroes of Howlin Ridge and glory was waiting just down those stairs.

Tommy was the first down the stairs, stepping carefully and double-checking each foothold. When he reached the bottom, he froze. We called out to him to know what he saw but we heard no response. That was enough for Duke; he bounded down the stairs with a deftness he hadn’t known since the football field, ready to come to the aid of his best friend. Duke was screaming for his friend when his voice was cut off suddenly.

At that point, I knew I had to go after Duke and Tommy, but I couldn’t go in like them. I searched around for another entrance to see if I could come in from a different point. Maybe whoever was holed up down there had a bead on the stairs. There were no trap doors or secret entrances but I did find a spot where the floorboards were loose. I pried up the boards and looked into the inky darkness that was the cellar. There was a faint bit of light coming from the stairwell and there I saw Duke and Tommy standing, perfectly still, stuck in a moment. I looked around for whatever it was that had ensorcelled them but saw nothing. There was no way in but the stairs and if I was ever going to get my friends out of this I had to join them.

I stood at the top of the stairs and breathed deeply to collect my courage and, Virginia, I can’t explain why, but my mind went to that heart-shaped locket you gave me. I gripped it tight in my hand and took the first step. I worried it might be the last time I ever saw your face.

I moved slowly down the stairs and kept my eyes to my feet. When I reached the bottom, I chanced a glimpse at the room and what I saw will never leave my eyes. The room was covered in blood and what I can only describe as pieces of men and robes were scattered all over.

I scanned the room, taking in the horrible scene when my eyes alighted on something in the corner. It was something and not something at the same time. Some weird glitch in the world like whatever was supposed to be in that space was just missing. It seemed to suck in all the world around it and no light could pierce it, like a living black hole. It moved sluggishly like it was tired.

As I stared at it a bright light seemed to originate in the middle of the being. It became brighter and brighter until I could barely keep my eyes open, it expanded until it filled the room and my mind was flooded with visions.

I saw the death and decay expanding. I saw the hills of Appalachia grow dead and shadowy creatures cover the land. As they moved across the land everything they touched died. I saw Fort Kilgore overrun with shadow and death and I saw you, at our home, as the shadows approached, staring sadly into impending doom.

I squeezed the locket tightly, focusing my mind on the intricate carvings around the heart. I fought back against the darkness in my mind, thinking on the light of your love and the warmth of your countenance.

When I opened my eyes, the light had gone out and Tommy and Duke were on the ground. The shapeless thing stood up, stronger. I met Duke’s eyes just as his shaking hand pulled the pin on a grenade. “Run,” he mouthed just as the light left his eyes. So I ran, up the steps and out of the chapel just as the ground rocked and the walls buckled.

I stumbled out and sat on the dry, dead ground and wept. Wept for the loss of my friends, for the death of glory, wept for the heroes of Howlin Ridge. I walked back towards the front lines, through the grey and the quiet and the death. I walked until green entered the world again, til I could hear the song of birds again, I walked until I could walk no more. Then the world went black.

I woke up this morning in bed. Apparently, I made it just past the border and was found by a patrol. I slept for three weeks. They say I’m going home soon. They sent another group but there was no chapel to be found. No rubble or sign of a destroyed building. Just death all around. No sign of Tommy or Duke. They have a lot of questions, but I have no answers. Only crazy stories of shadows and death.

I still have your heart-shaped locket. I hold on to it while I sleep, it’s the only thing that protects me from the shadows coming back. It protected me that night and I don’t believe this is over yet.

With all the love I have to give,

Eugene