Here is Log #8 Thanx Ledeye for leting me copy it to the forum
Log: 10345
I am alone now.
Reilly left this afternoon together with the rest of the camp. Packed everything on the trucks and drove off. Damn him! Surely he must know that I cant possibly – not in any way – leave with a member missing? What is he thinking?Of course he isn’t thinking... He’s just afraid, and I suppose he is right about that. But I just cant leave without Catherine. I just cant. I owe her too much. How would I ever forgive myself? At least they left me my tent and an uplink. A small comfort.
Log: 10346
I searched all day today, or at least as long as I could before my aching knee forced me back to camp. There was no sign of her . I’ve tried to put it of but I know I will have to look in the are closer to the orb soon.
Jensen’s notes are beginning to make less and less sense; the fragments of information about whispers in the wilderness, the discovery of some sort of animal, or demon, eternal darkness, people disappearing. Days of logs are missing. He is scared now. He’s probably all alone at this point… speaking of final journey, like he knows what is going to happen. I can almost see him in front of me, his eyes full of fear, staring out in to nothing. Like an animal led to slaughter.
Log: 103547
Something astounding happened to day. For the last day or two I am being observed by roaming Argonauts. Sometimes there are only one or two, sometimes small groups. They seem to be drawn to this area. Their numbers have clearly increased during the last two days, I am sure. They have kept their distance so far, but this evening when I came back to the camp, I saw a few of them just as they scurried off like scared animals in to the shelter of the forest. Everything was in shambles of course. They had turned absolutely everything upside down. But the pure facts that they dared to venture this close makes me a bit worried I must say.
But what was even stranger was what they left behind them; an old dirty piece of paper with strange, erratic drawings on it, like the smeared, frantic scribble of a deranged child.
It was hard to make out but I think I could see a twisted, nightmarish landscape with dark, straggling shapes with anonymous faces frozen in silent, terrified screams. Looming above this bleak scene, hovering like silent gods, as if waiting was a sky filled with dark, jet black orbs…