My God! It’s true. Everything Keyes said is true. There is another place, another world. I’ve seen it. Wonderful things.

The tunnel empties out into a… I don’t know what. A kind of forest, I think. It’s so hard to describe right now. I only took a quick peek outside and the images are still a flurry in my mind. It was a forest out there, a jungle, a really dark and hot jungle full of the weirdest vegetation I’ve ever seen. I didn’t recognise a single plant.

Must sleep now. Exhausted. When I finally gathered up the courage to go deeper along the tunnel my adventure only took a few hours. It feels like I’ve been awake for centuries, though. It was so hard to climb up from the pit. But I had to. I feel like I could sleep for days and if I don’t cancel the scheduled post it’s possible I’ll sleep so long I’ll wake up with O’Heir standing over me. And that wouldn’t do. Not now. Not after what I’ve seen.

I’ve told Maya about it already. When I mentioned those trees I could have sworn her eyelids flickered.

Okay. The headache is gone and I’m feeling fitter. Probably best I didn’t go last night. I was too sick, and the thoughts of leaving Maya alone for any more than a few minutes sickened me even more. A few hours sleep did my guts the world of good.

So I’m ready.

In case I don’t make it back, I’ve scheduled a blog post to run in two days with my full name and address on it and the location of the spare back door key I’ve hidden outside. I’ve also included O’Heir’s real name and contact details. If anyone’s reading this, please, please contact him and show him these posts. Make him understand that Maya can’t be moved. That’s so important. I’ve also made out a will and written a letter for both our families to read. These are sitting on the kitchen table. Two days. With any luck this won’t take more than two hours.

Couldn’t go. Couldn’t leave Maya. Tomorrow. I’ll go tomorrow.

O’Heir called earlier. I didn’t answer the door, but I’m sure he knew I was here. Part of me wanted to answer, wanted to tell him everything. Another part of me wanted to run him off with the shotgun. I can’t. They’ll all come then and Maya will die when they move her. He might play nice, but all this is partly O’Heir’s fault, too. Why didn’t they leave us alone? Screw him. Screw that vet. Screw them all! If they come again maybe I will use the gun.

There’s only one route out of here now. I must go deeper into the tunnel, follow Keyes, and find something to help Maya. At least she’s not getting any worse. I’ve brought a mattress and blankets down to make her comfortable. Better get ready. Better eat something. Got to keep my strength up if I’m to go farther along the tunnel.

God I feel sick.

Dammit! Just read yesterday’s posts. I can’t do that again. Anything could have happened when I was drinking, and my head hurts like hell. A bottle of wine for Maya? Lunacy!  If she woke she’d probably have broken it over my head for being so dumb. Did I call the vet? I don’t think so. The main phone’s still disconnected and there’s no calls registered on my cell. It’s probably well I got so pissed. Otherwise I might have got farther in the car. I found it this morning, rolled to a stop ten yards down the lane. I hadn’t even managed to get it started. I’d left the door open and the driver’s seat is all wet from the rain. At least I hope it was rain.

Can’t do that again. Drink, I mean. But… but it’s so hard to look at her without needing something.

Back again. I been tinking. I’m going to call vet. Everything’s his vault. He put pressure on us. He made us go down there an open the hole. I’ll call him and tel him what I tink. Then I’m goin to kidnap a doctor. I’ve got a gun, you know. A big gun. Bang bang. Doctor’ll make Maya better. He’ll stay here until he does. Once she’s bettre we’ll explore the tunnel. Keyes is there. I’m sure of it. Sometims     it’s like I can hear him call my nam.

Need annuther drink now………………….

Crazy. Everytings gone crazy. Can’t sleep. Can’t leave the house. Can’t leave Maya. Spent last night wit her in pit. It’s nice there, nice and comfortable. Whiskey’s better than any blanket to keep out the cold. Just came up to get anoter bottle and taught I’d write a bit. It feels good. Writing, I mean. Whiskey’s good, too. Bushmills ten years. An excellent vintage, old chap. Ha ha. Good to warm the blood me old granny used to say.

My sleeping beauty hasn’t stirred. I’ve brought a bottle down fro her. An Aussie chardonnay, her favourit. It’ll cheer her

when she wakes. Must go. Getting cold and beauty will                    be geting lonely.

Maya’s still unconscious. I ventured farther along the outer tunnel. Found the skeleton of some biped creature that almost filled the tunnel from wall to wall. It’s not an ape. The skull’s too wide, too flat and conical. It has fangs, too. Row upon row of them, serrated and angled back into the jaw like a shark’s.

I didn’t get close enough to test how sharp they were. I dropped the skeleton with both barrels and kept firing until every bone was broken. I’m still trembling. It wasn’t the sight of this thing that bothered me, or that the walls absorbed and muffled the gunshots. It was the skeleton’s pose. It looked like it had been frozen in mid stride when it died.

Didn’t Keyes say something was following him? Is this it? Did whatever sealed the tunnel also seal up this thing? If so, what attacked Maya? And what might happen if the machine stops working and the tunnel fills in again?

I feel better now I’ve destroyed the skeleton. It’s like I’ve struck some kind of blow back for my wife. And I’m not finished yet. Oh no. Not by a long ways. I’m only getting started.

It’s so cold here. So very cold. Maya’s alive, at least in some comatose way. Her breathing and pulse are slow, but strong. When I peeled back her eyelid I saw a flicker of life in there.

Can she see me, recognise me? I don’t know. She doesn’t respond to my voice.

She’s trapped in the outer tunnel. I tried to carry her out twice. Both times she went into gasping convulsions the instant we passed the machine. That tunnel has become her life support. Whatever is in there, whatever’s in that air, is keeping her alive. She can’t be moved. Nor can I call for help. No matter what I told the paramedics, they’d insist on removing her. They’d think me mad. So would the police. They’d arrest me, maybe even think I had something to do with it.

My poor, poor, Maya. Don’t worry. I’m coming back soon, once I’ve written up these notes. This is my diary now, you see, my log. At least if anything happens me, there’s a record left behind. I have no fear now. All I care about is Maya. Nothing more. I’d gladly trade places with her. If the thing that attacked her returns, I’ll deal with it. If it doesn’t, then maybe I’ll go and look for it.

The Purdy will settle things quite quickly between us.

Something has happened my wife. I’m writing this as my statement. Something bad has happened my wife. I’m putting it right here in black and white because I’m not calling anyone for help. She’s been dragged into the outer tunnel. There was something in there with her. I couldn’t see it properly, but I know it was there. I smelled it, a sour, dead smell.

When I placed the ‘pass’ tight to my skin it glowed and burned itself coolly onto my chest. It’s fixed there as permanently now as a tattoo. No pain, just a tickling sensation. By the time I passed through the gateway the thing was gone.

Something’s happened my wife but I’m not calling for help. I’ll finish this. Think what you want. I don’t care. Not anymore. She’s still down there, unconscious. I’m going back down there now. I’m going back down to use this pass thing to enter the tunnel. And I’m going to blow the fuck out of anything I meet. The Purdy’s all the help I need. I’ve plenty of ammo, too. Plenty of ammo.

Something’s happened my wife. Something bad.

We’ve been attacked. Must write this. Phone not working. Must let someone know. I didn’t harm her. Went dow nstairs. Trapdoor smashed. Maya screaming. IIIIIIII…. Someting downstairs. Not her. Something else. Itt dragged her into the tunnel.  There was           Something came for me, tried toooooooo     Damn hard to write. I       think Maya’s dead. Get gun and

Even in the rain, Carlingford’s beautiful. But its beauty was tinged by our mood. We could have been at a funeral all day for all the good the scenery did us. We’re going to take the machine apart tonight. Yes. Take it apart and smash most of it up.

O’Heir can have the hand. We’ll tell him we found it lying somewhere around the lake, preferably the far side of the lake. If the vet or that guy from the museum want to search around, they’re welcome. Just as long as they don’t ask too many questions and don’t want to look in here.

I want nothing more to do with Keyes’ nonsense. Absolutely nothing.

Maya’s not happy either. She’s downstairs now hammering at something. Shit! It’s not her that’s hammering. It’s something else. It sounds like…

Maya wants to leave the house, too. First she thinks we should go back down there, switch the thing off, and hope the opening seals. She says the tunnel could cause structural damage.

I refused. I’m not going back down there. And neither is she. Not today anyway. We’re getting out of here, going to Carlingford. I don’t care if it rains all day. We need to get out of this place. It’s impossible to make a plan while we’re under this roof. The memories are too fresh. That stench is still lingering. She’s piled wet towels against the basement door to stop it leaking out.

Bye bye. We’re leaving.

Couldn’t sleep. Didn’t even try. Both of us want to leave the house. But go where? To Dublin, to the airport, to… Hell, I don’t know. Maybe we should go to O’Heir and confess everything. Or maybe we should just get in the car and drive for a while. A few hours away from here might clear our heads. I can’t stop thinking about all the stories about this place. The fairies, I mean. It’s nonsense. Has to be. Pure nonsense. I think we’ll …

It’s true! God help us. Everything is true, every word of it. The machine works. A doorway opened. Or at least it looks like a doorway. No matter how I try and convince myself the opening in the rock was there all the time, I know it wasn’t. There was nothing there before. We checked so many times. The wall opened.

My God! There’s another tunnel now beneath the house, an outer tunnel.

The instant we connected the rope wire from the log to the frame the whole thing began to wheeze and vibrate like it had come alive. Insane, I know. But true. When the sound settled into a kind of rhythmic purring, a cloud of luminous blue mist poured out of the skull and drifted in behind the veil.

Maya looked behind it first. The face of the wall was gone. Melted away into a tunnel.

God, I can’t believe I’m even writing this down. Maybe it’s my brain that’s melted. And the stink that emerged, a thick stench of rottenness and death that smelled so fresh yet so very, very old. If Maya hadn’t dragged me away I’d have puked. As it was, I barely made it up the ladder my legs were so weak.

Like it was alive and free for the first time in centuries, that stench followed us up and spread through the house. We had to leave every window and door open for an hour to get rid of it. Yet, it’s not fully gone. It’s still here, in this room, in my head, lodged there the way the stink from the crypt lodged there.

What have we done tonight? Have we opened Keyes’ real tomb?

Another wet day. And it doesn’t help our mood. After last night’s fiasco I was hoping to bring Maya out for a drive this morning, maybe take her over to the coast to Carlingford Lough. She hasn’t been there before, and it’s beautiful.

Nothing but caution kept us from trying out the machine last night. Caution, and if I’m truthful, fear. We weren’t ready. It’s as simple as that. We simply went down there, spent some time examining it, and decided to walk away.

It was easy. The walking away, I mean. What isn’t easy is to stop thinking about it. It’s impossible. Every time I close my eyes that machine is there. It’s waiting for us. That’s what it feels like. It’s just waiting for us to come and start it up.

Couldn’t go through with it. We went down there, but just couldn’t go through with it.

Time to go downstairs now. Time to see if all this is true or some huge, terrible joke. If you don’t hear any more from us, well…

Spent the day working. Finally submitted one of my projects this evening. It’s a relief to have it done with. I’m sure they’ll offer me more work but I’m not sure whether I’ll take it. Probably not. At least not for a few weeks anyway.

Spent the afternoon listening to OK Computer. There’s something about that album, something haunting that really fits the mood in the house right now. Ever since we opened the box, it seems so cold in here now. It’s been raining all morning. Weather forecast says to expect more.

We’ve decided to try the machine tonight. Too many people are becoming curious as to what we found. All it would take is for one to discover the truth and all this will be taken from us. We won’t let that happen. It’s our find. We’ll see this thing through. I guess just making that decision is a start. Whether we fully go through with it or not is another thing. We’ll see. At least Maya is feeling better. For the first time in days she’s got a smile on her face.

Once again we’re left with the question, what next? I don’t know. Neither does Maya. She cut a strip from the ‘pass’ last night. Just like Keyes said, it didn’t burn. When she held it over a candle it didn’t even blacken or crinkle.

So, what next? I guess there’s nothing else left now but to see this thing through. It’s either that or call O’Heir.

Someone called Holton rang earlier. I answered the call, thought it was a number I recognised. This Holton guy said he was from the National Museum, said he’d heard we’d found something and wondered if we’d care to discuss it. He offered to come here. Tomorrow. To be honest I was half temped to take him up on it. It would make all this so much easier. But what would Keyes want? Not that. I’m sure of it. The man went to too much trouble to keep this secret. We’d betray him, spit on his grave, if we passed it over to others.

Holton took it well when I declined his offer. Too well, I think. Time now to pull the phone cord. Won’t make that mistake again.

So, what next? I have no idea.