The Station, Part 20

Why am I so tired? Ever since finding Frontier 2, I’ve felt oddly drained. Like that damn weed has actually gotten into me during my short time there. Hell no, I’m not going to get paranoid like that. That shit does not feed off still living things. I’m certain of that. Again, I just know that. So when did I sleep last? Hard to remember when. I just remember what I saw when I slept. Those beings. So real.

My tunnel theory just got another boost. I tried another Tunnel Rounds and its been a more or less straight run. Sorry I haven’t been conversational through it. Been thinking about Sam. For a guy I didn’t really know all that well, I’m not sure why I’m so damn angry at him. I feel guilty and just plain angry about it, but I can’t help it. These issues are going to have to wait. I’ve reached the end of this particular passage and, for the first time since I’ve been here, I think I truly am scared right now.

Through the passage opening there is a fog. It’s extremely thick and stops abruptly at the tunnel opening, as if something were blocking it. Not a tendril of the stuff is inside the tunnel. I’ve turned up my light to maximum and I can still only penetrate a few meters into it. The first thing I checked for was a floor. It’s there, thank the stars. But beyond that I have nothing else to tell you. I’m seriously considering turning back and finding another tunnel that might take me around this place, but I already know that this was the only Tunnel Round coming from Frontier 1. The prospect of losing time over my chickenshit attitude keeps me locked in place right here, at the mouth of the tunnel. There it is swirling and twisting, all a dare to get me inside. I want a fucking gun again. This time I might really need it. All I have are these beacons, which honestly, don’t mean jack shit anymore. I mean, I’ve been placing them at each entrance and since each one is coded, I can draw a makeshift amp on my HUD. It isn’t much right now, but I’m getting a much better appreciation of the size of the whole structure. And each time I find a new chamber, it just keeps adding to that immensity.

Yeah, I know I’m stalling. I’m trying to find where my balls went, okay? Give me a break here. If you could see how thick this stuff was you’d damn near shit yourself thinking about going inside too. And I don’t want to overtax the suit’s recyclers right now, if you know what I mean. I’ve got the spare flashlight gripped firmly in one hand. It’s the only thing that approximates a weapon. Pathetic, but I feel a little more secure. It’s solid, unlike whatever this ethereal substance is. Here goes nothing.