Tunnelers entries 0107 through 0807

0107 — Timberland owned by the Howells-Rush logging company. Enough space between the trees to drive an ATV, but it is treacherous to do so due to the steep hills and thick mud. The local herd of elk can often be found bedded down on the hilltops, where small clearings fill with greenery — 3-in-6 chance of them being here, 1-in-6 chance that they a local is hunting them.

0207 — Old growth forest, owned by the Howells-Rush logging company but untouched for as long as anyone can remember. The uniformity of forest cultivated for harvest is lost as more diverse trees and plants have grown in untrained tangles. Old Harlowe House is cradled in this tangle, a remnant of the silver mining that predated the timber industry here. Stories abound among the older locals of children going missing after venturing into the abandoned building. This generation don’t know how to stay safe like we did, they say, and anyways they heard from their own grandparents that The Harlowes were not good christians.
Beneath Harlowe House by Sam Sorenson can be found here — my only adjustments are to position it as further back in the town’s history than it is presented in the book.

0307 — Rush Loop twists through old growth timberland, owned by the Howells-Rush logging company but unharvested so as not to make for an unsightly view for its owners. Curtis Howell (he/him, 61) lets the woods overtake a plot of land he has set aside as his “getaway,” where he has parked a trailer where he retreats to drink and shoot when he isn’t overseeing his company. He loves to say “never forget where you came from,” while gesturing at the incredibly expensive trailer with all possible amenities. His favorite gun is a Stevens M520-30 trench gun, used in WWII, with an inscryption on it that says “WE LOVE YOU DAD” — a gift from all of his children except Octavia. He also has a 1941 Luger and a M1 carbine. Just down the road is the house of his son and one of the heirs to the logging fortune, Theodore Howell (he/him, 35), his wife Luann Howell (she/her, 36), and their daughter Emily (she/her, 14). Their house is unassuming but the yard is littered with gifts to Emily from her grandfather: largely remote control cars, the expensive ones.

0407 — Howell Ranch, a combination of small horse farm and office building for the Howells-Rush logging company. A gate festooned with cow skulls frames a road past horses in their fields, splitting to lead to either a painfully rustic farmhouse carefully maintained as symbol of all that country living ought to be, and a squat grey building that is part logging company office part garage for the family’s various matching Chevrolet trucks. Deb Howell (she/her, 57) runs a tight ship, overseeing both the farmhands who tend to her priceless horses and any logging business that Curtis isn’t there for.

0507 — The highway passes by state forest, dense and dark. Minimal room to operate vehicles off the road. Within the trees, what looks like a rundown and abandoned cabin conceals a humming nest of surveillance equipment. If it is approached, The Outdoorswoman (she/her, 40) already knows and has moved to intercept the interloper. She is a CIA occultist wearing a thick patterned wool coat, wearing a wide brimmed hat, and holding a hiking stick. She apologetically pretends to be lost, asking for directions back to the road, but if pressed or forced to defend her equipment she is lethal with both the walking stick and the FABARM FP6 Entry short barrelled shotgun in the top of her backpack. Nobody enters or exits town from the south without her knowledge.

0607 — The river and highway run parallel through grass and boulders. A ramshackle building sits to the south of the highway, identified by its gaudy signage as Frank’s Farm. It is a combination antique shop and food stand, run by Frank Gretzky (he/him, 36). Frank accepts donations of whatever strange things locals drop off in his parking lot, and gives away much of it for free. He is openly gay, and many other local queers use his shop as a place of refuge — he lives in the attic, and more than once has woken up at odd hours to cook a greasy sandwich and some fries for a teen who just had a fight with their family, or quietly covered the windows and put up a closed sign to give privacy to the trysts of closeted locals. He is the great nephew of Beth Rush, who he remains close to, and the Rush logging fortune keeps his business afloat and forces the locals to tolerate his flamboyance.

0707 — State forest. Dense and hard to see through, with minimal room to operate vehicles outside of sparse trails. A number of wild bee swarms have their hives here.

0807 — A field full of stumps, concealed by grass grown taller than they are, property of and harvested by the Mckinnon logging company, never replanted. Wildflowers flourish in the sunny field, and it is nearly always abuzz with pollinators. Coyotes hunt mice in the tall grass.