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May 15th
I can’t believe it. After all this time, we finally found it. I’ve finally found them.
Grandfather’s journal was detailed, but he was always a careful man. It has taken me half my life to decipher the old man’s ramblings. At least, that’s what he would have people think it was, just rambling nonsense. Hidden in the pages and paragraphs of his journal, there was a discovery to be made - a cryptic map. It was a map that would lead us to them. A map to lead us to those who came before.
May 19th
It took myself and Mr. Exler, my hired muscle for this expedition, the best part of a week to remove the rubble around the entrance. All that remains is to pry open the door and see what lies beyond. We were eager to push on, but the hour is late, and we are tired. We will enter in the morning, when we are rested and ready to appreciate what we may find.
There must have been a landslide at some stage, as the arch was almost completely hidden. Parker doesn’t think this is a coincidence. He thinks that somebody blocked the entrance deliberately, to keep others from this discovery. Could my grandfather have done such a thing?
May 20th
We’ve done it! We’re through. Inside we found an enormous cavern, stretching so high that our lamps do not light the ceiling. A great many large rocks stick up from the ground, forming a rough circle. The rocks seem to have been placed here. What’s more, if my books are correct, then these rocks are obsidian. This is very peculiar, as I know of no sources of obsidian for miles around. This is surely the product of an advanced and intelligent race.
May 21st
Two things happened last night. I have no explanation for either.
As the three of us drifted to sleep after supper, there came a low rumble. It was an earthquake, no doubt, although I swear the locals have never spoken of such a thing. The earthquake dislodged some loose stone above the entrance, and we once again find that there is rubble and boulders between us and the door, only this time that door is our way out, not our way in.
However, the misfortune of this can wait. Something far more pressing has occurred. No sooner had the earthquake halted its shaking, than we noticed a pale light forming. It was the rocks. The rocks have begun to glow!
May 22nd
Extraordinary! Absolutely extraordinary! The glowing of the rocks has begun to take shape! There are patterns here! Images? Perhaps even writing! There can be no doubt in my mind now - we stand in the creation of a race far greater than our own.
There is much to learn. Much to record. I will study. I must learn all.
May 24th
Mr. Exler is growing frustrated with me. He grumbles and complains that he is left alone to remove the debris that blocks us in. It seems there is more to contend with than we originally thought. I have no time for this, and I have no time for him. Doesn’t he know we are on the edge of discovery? I can’t afford to stop working.
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May 27th
Disaster. Matthew Exler has perished in another cave-in. The poor soul grew impatient and must have chiseled away too vigorously. There is little we can do at this time, save cover the body and say a few words.
Peter swears that he saw one of the rocks flash moments before the cave-in. He swears the cause was unnatural. Poor Peter, I fear he is losing his mind. He must simply accept that Exler is dead because he wanted to escape. How can anyone dream of escape from a place as wondrous as this?
May 28th
Parker believes he heard movement in the night. He believes we are not alone here. How wonderful that would be! Alas, I think he heard only the scratching of my pencil as I hurry to sketch all that I can.
May 30th
We have exhausted our supplies. To be honest, I scarcely noticed. I have had far too much to think about to listen to the complaints of my stomach. There is moisture enough seeping through the cavern walls to keep us from falling to thirst, but food is a different matter.
Peter thinks that we should call it a day. He thinks that we should turn all of our attention to escape, to returning home.
I feel I am home already.
June 2nd
Parker has become quite useless now that the food has run out. He weeps mostly, or claws uselessly at the rubble blocking the doorway. He mutters to himself constantly. I fear he has gone quite mad. He will be much happier once he gives up on returning to the surface.
June 4th
Parker ate his gun this morning. He died instantly. No matter. At least now I can work in peace.
June 5th
To my surprise, the muttering did not end with Parker. Perhaps he was right after all. Perhaps something is here with us - with me. Sometimes I fancy that the stones themselves are speaking to me. In truth, I have long wondered this, but felt a fool to entertain the idea whilst the others still lived.
June 6th
My own hunger has grown to a point where I cannot ignore it. It is a distraction I do not need. I accepted weeks ago that I will not leave this place. I knew almost as soon as those rocks fell that this would be my life’s work in every sense. I am not saddened by this, only proud. Yet there is still much to do.
I am sure now that these markings are writing. I have seen some patterns repeated, and some linked as if to form words or sentences. I know I am on to something - the stones tell me so. I just need to continue working. I need to work through the hunger.
June 8th
I contemplated eating the remains of my fellows last night. That would not do for a gentleman explorer. I have decided to remove this temptation for good. I have burned their bodies and said a prayer of passing.
They are fortunate, I think, to have funerals in this sacred place. I almost envy them.
The meat smelt disturbingly good.
June 9th
I did what had to be done. I have eaten several of the fingers on my left hand. I hardly felt the pain, I was so hungry. In fact, rather alarmingly, once I had started I found it difficult to stop. Thank goodness I am still strong of mind and will. The fingers I have lost are of no inconvenience to me. I can still work.
If I am clever and careful, there is food about my person for another week yet.
June 11th
Incredible! Quite incredible! The stones have begun to respond to me! They light up at my touch, and the figures rearrange themselves to make new patterns! New words! I have been accepted by them, I feel. Perhaps they wish me to follow them wherever it is they went. Perhaps I will see them with my own eyes.
The whisper of the stones grows louder. I can hear them calling. Jim, they say, Jim, Jim. Jim.
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“Honey, have you seen Jim?”
“Yeah, he was out playing in the shed with some rocks and toys and stuff.”
“In the shed?”
“Mm-hm. I checked in on him earlier. He looked like he was having fun.”
“Don’t you think he’s a bit old to be playing with toys?”
“Hey, if society allowed it, I’d be right there playing with him.”
“What a great role-model you are. Well he’s played right through lunch, and he’s not going to miss dinner as well.”
“Oh, give him another half an hour.”
“Not a chance. Jim! Jim! Jim! Is that boy deaf? Geez. Jim!”
“Hey, mum.”
“There you are. Do you have any idea what time it is?”
“No, mum. Sorry.”
“Whatever, go set the table for supper.”
“Okay.”
“Wait... Jim, what happened to your hand? What the hell happened to your fingers, Jim!”