We’re back at our original landing spot. The envelop is regenerating at an incredible rate. The forest is alive with creaks and groans and wispy rustling sounds as the trees straighten and the bushes and plants soak up the energy running through the soil. The traps are reviving, too. Amid the explosion of greenery it’s possible to make out some of their signs: twisting vines, loose leaves that glide from trunk to trunk, sticky threads of sap dangling innocently from the trees.

The stink in the air isn’t half as bad now.

Such a magical transformation. No matter how deadly it is, it’s still beautiful to watch.

Unfortunately, I couldn’t find where Armbranch’s ‘relative’ (it’s the only word I can find to describe it) was. This ‘new’ envelop covered all my markings. Armbranch didn’t need my help. Taking the Water with him, he disappeared into the woods shortly after we got back here and didn’t return until half an hour ago. He found the creature. He spoke with it and assured me it was recovering well. There’s a little bit less of the Water of the Woods left now. I don’t mind. I just wonder why I never gave the creature any the other morning. Perhaps it was best I didn’t. True, it might have helped me. On the other hand, though, it didn’t know me from Adam. It could as well have killed me.

We’re not leaving until tomorrow. We’ll make a pre-dawn crossing and I have the feeling it’ll go easier for us this time. At least I hope it does. We’ll rest up awhile once we land. Then we’re heading for the mountains.

It’s Halloween today. And it makes me laugh to think how they celebrate it back home. If only I could take just one trap from this place I’d give them all something to scream about.

Battery’s almost gone. I’m going to sit and watch Maya until it runs down.

Going… going…. go

We found the core this morning. It was all a bit disappointing really. I’d been expecting something significant, some man made thing that might add some shape or form to this place. All we found was a bare patch of black earth about fifteen feet wide in the centre of a clearing close to the river. But at least the soil smelled fresh and loamy, like earth is supposed to smell like. It was such a joy to breathe that air and flush the badness from my lungs.

Armbranch soon crushed my new found joy when he said I had to dig down deep to plant the seeds. I didn’t argue. It would have been akin to refusing a blind man help across the road. I spent then next three hours tossing handfuls of dirt aside until I was chest deep and my hands were hot and throbbing.

I uncovered the first root shortly after my fifth break of the morning. Though it was thin and fragile looking, it bucked when I first touched it. Armbranch laughed at that, said he thought something like that might happen but didn’t want to alarm me.

Ha ha. So very, very unfunny.

Once the root settled down, I started digging again. It wasn’t long before I’d exposed a mass of tangled roots. Armbranch joined me in the hole then. He said the seeds needed to be planted in the mass, and I was so very glad he planned to do it. Despite his injuries I didn’t try to stop him when he worked one arm into the mass and released the seeds.

There was no magic reaction, no flash of light or jingle of bells. We simply climbed out of the hole and filled it in.

We’re going to rest here tonight. Armbranch says it’s the safest place on the island now the envelop’s recharging. I won’t argue. Not long ago the vegetation along the borders of the clearing started to shift and rustle like a wind was upsetting it. But there’s no wind, not the faintest breath of a breeze.

Now I can hear creaking noises from deeper in the woods. It’s a dry, wooden creaking, like old roof beams contracting after a hot day. Even before Armbranch told me what was happening, I knew what was causing that sound.

The trees are straightening up.

I got so worried about Armbranch last night I offered him some of the ‘Water of the Woods’ when he woke shortly before midnight. He accepted. But he didn’t drink it. He asked me to rub it into his arm stumps instead.

And what a bizarre feeling that was. Though they looked as hard as diamonds, those stumps were soft and warm to the touch. The Water soaked straight into them.

I’ve been awake most of the night wondering what might happen if I massaged a few drops of that water into Maya’s forehead. When I mentioned this to Armbranch this morning he agreed it might perk her up. It wouldn’t replace what was lost, though. No. The only way to do that is find the Basilod and trap it.

We’re leaving for the core now. Though Armbranch’s hands are regenerating fast, he won’t be able to use them for another few days. He figures he can swim, though. It’s great news. Maybe we can get off this place first thing tomorrow.

Battery almost gone. Won’t stay on long. Resting now. Armbranch is recovering fast. Those shoots are already changing into fingers and what looks like the flat of a hand is forming beneath his recovery sap. He found the envelop’s core. It’s not far from here. He wanted me to go on there alone to plant the seeds, but I refused. I won’t leave him. Besides, I’m exhausted and I’ve no idea what will happen once the envelop starts regenerating.

Will it spring back to life, traps and all? I don’t want to risk it –at least not until he’s fit to travel.

I’ve studied Maya closely today. There’s no obvious sign that anything happened her as a result of my counter attack against the Basilod. She’s still lying as calm as ever.

God it’s hard to turn the laptop off. I feel so empty and dead locking out my world it’s almost like pulling a lid over my coffin.

Why didn’t I think to bring a spare battery? Worse still, why didn’t I bring the solar roll across the river with me?

Mustn’t dwell too much on that.

The whistling was real. I wasn’t imagining it. No. Nor was I going insane or slipping into some delirium.

Armbranch was whistling.

And I’ve found him. He’s lying right beside me as I write. Though he’s weak and obviously in pain, he’s alive. That’s all that matters. He’s alive. His hands will grow back. Thin shoots are already visible, sprouting out around the sap that’s sealed his arm stumps. And I…

Wait. Sorry. I’m rambling. I’ve got to try and write the day’s events in a logical order. Otherwise I’ll end up confusing myself and everything might become warped with time. But it’s hard to stay focussed. I’m just so relieved to have Armbranch back, no matter what condition he’s in. I found him shortly after setting off this morning. He was stuck by the hands to a tree stump in the middle of a clearing. Everything around him: the trees, bushes, and other vegetation, had been cleared away. All that remained was mushy, rotting scrub that stank like a sewer.

I knew it was a trap, knew it as well as if I’d been looking at a goat tied to a stake in the middle of a tiger infested forest. But I didn’t care. I had to help him. Without him I had nothing: now way home, no Maya, no hope.

Besides, I was fond of him. Hell yes. He wasn’t just a travelling companion or guide anymore. He was a friend. And I’d never leave a friend in that position. He tried to call out when he saw me. Only a croak emerged. I knew he was trying to warn me. I didn’t stop. I was sick of running, sick of skulking and wandering through this place alone.

I was ready for a fight.

I didn’t have long to wait. When I reached Armbranch I first though his hands had been fused to the stump. They were barely visible against the wood. Then I realised they were encased in a glassy, sap like material. The Basilod’s spittle, Armbranch whispered. Impossible to break free from. The only way to get free was to cut them off.

Cut them off! I couldn’t believe what he was asking. Cut them off! I’d rather have dug up the stump and carried it away with me than cut his hands off. There was little time to argue. Barely were the words out of his mouth when that obnoxious wheezing started up in the trees a few hundred yards away.

I still couldn’t do it. Even as the Basilod swept towards us, I couldn’t bring myself to cut my friends hands off. Instead, I grabbed the laptop and watched the sky. I couldn’t spot the Basilod. The only giveaway was that rattle. It circled the clearing, twice I think, before hovering above us for a few moments. And, somehow, I managed not to open the laptop. Somehow I kept my nerve. I willed an image of Maya into my mind, took a deep breath, and waited.

It dropped slowly, confidently, like a predator that knew the bait’s taken and the prey’s hooked. God how those seconds felt more like hours. Everything slowed, became surreal. Armbranch begged me to run. The Basilod laughed a hissing, mocking laugh. My feet became stones. The instant I felt its breath sweep over me I opened the laptop and aimed the screen upwards. I guess the screen didn’t flicker on immediately because a few moments passed before a pale bluish light flashed above me. I saw something in that light; eyes, cobalt eyes, cold and wide and deep with hate. The thing howled once. Then it was gone, and that howl tailed off into one long, endless scream as it shot off across the trees and left the forest trembling in its wake.

I’ve spent much of the day trying to figure out what effect the light from the laptop had on it. The only conclusion is that the radiation from the screen burned or maybe blinded it. It’s wounded, Armbranch said. And not it’s left the island. Yet, somehow, I can’t celebrate this victory because I can’t help wondering if I’ve damaged Maya in the process. I also can’t get it out of my mind how I freed Armbranch. It mattered little that I only had to amputate one hand off and he cut the second one himself. It still hurt bad.

He’s asleep now. I wonder how long it will take him to recover. Not long, I hope.

Heard another sound a few minutes ago. A whistle. Yes a faint whistle that reminded me of those sounds Armbranch taught me so long ago.

Ha ha. How cruel this madness is to taunt me like that.

How big is this damn island? Armbranch figured the core would be planted as far from the gateway as possible in case anything leaked from the pit and tried to disable it. I must be close. This island can’t stretch on forever. Or can it? Perhaps this is another of the envelop’s tricks. Perhaps it’s fooling me, making me walk around and around in circles until I’m exhausted or madness claims me.

But the compass couldn’t lie, could it?

Why not? If everything else in here defies nature then why should I depend so much on a gadget. Just because it’s inanimate doesn’t guarantee it can’t be manipulated. I’d be a fool to trust it. Yet, I’ve got to trust something in here because I’m coming to the point where I don’t even trust myself. Half the time I’m not aware whether I’m awake or walking in my sleep. At times the landscape around me seems to change every time I blink.

I’ve got to trust the compass. There‘s no other choice. Whether it’s damaged or not, I’ve got to use it to focus on. Without it I’d be truely directionless.

Laptop battery is running down fast. Maybe it’s time to light another fire. I don’t care anymore. If the battery runs down and leaves me exposed, I’ll light a dozen fires in here. Yes. Toast the place to hell and leave a charcoal road for the demons to follow when they spill up from the hole.

Maybe they can deal the Basilod better than anyone. I heard it earlier. At least I think it was the Basilod. Either that or it was some nasty memory rising up to mock me.

Must be losing it. Didn’t sleep last night. No. it was more like a coma. And since I woke i’ve been wondering if the laptop is the true reality in here and I’m just a part of its dreams as it slept. That’s insane. I don’t care what anyone says. That’s insane, a true sign I’m spiralling into someplace deep and dark. I can only hope that when I see light again there’s enough sanity left to guide me out of here in one piece.

Ha! I’m the laptop’s dream as it sleeps. What a fucking nightmare!

Maybe if I turned it off it I might ground myself more to the true reality. I even found myself envying it earlier. Yes. Envying it because it slept to well and I couldn’t relax for a moment. I won’t turn it off. Nor will I wake it up. I’ll let it sleep. Waking it up would only wear down the battery. I’ll only wake it up when I need its help.

Haven’t heard the Basilod. Maybe it’s left the island.

Wandering. Lost. How long have I been in this place? How long more must I tramp through this hellhole?

So tired. Must rest. Must…

Stopped again. Need shelter. Need rest. The Basilod came so close earlier, so very, very close. It was hunting me. I’m convinced of it. Why else was it trolling the forest like that?

As if it sensed me, it circled the area where I was hiding. Finally, just when I thought it was moving off, it made a long sweep off to my right before swinging back and settling on the tree I was sheltering beneath. I don’t know why I didn’t break from cover. I guess it was some sheer, primitive survival instinct that froze my legs and stopped my breath.

The entire tree creaked and groaned and sagged beneath its weigh. I even felt it sink a little into the ground before settling at a rude tilt. I saw nothing up there, nothing but a few moonlit clouds and a smattering of stars. Oddly, I felt angry and cheated. To be so close and personal to this thing without seeing as much as a glimmer of an eye was like looking into a mirror without seeing any reflection. Sounds crazy, I know. But that’s how I felt. Cheated.

In hindsight I guess I was lucky. Perhaps the sight of the thing would have sent me shrieking through the forest.

It didn’t see me. Hell! It was looking straight down at me. Its breath chilled me. It’s stench caught in my nostrils. Its slobber dribbled down and pattered onto the ground all around the tree.

But it didn’t see me.

Why? The laptop, that’s why. In my panic I forgot to switch it off. By the time I realised I was bathed in its light, it was too late because I’m sure the slightest movement would have drawn the beast. Then I remembered how I’d tested the camera all those months ago, and how the light in the Parawerthan had affected it. Was the light from my world now blinding something in here?

It’s the only explanation I have for still being alive.

The worst experience of all wasn’t the fear. It was the longing. I felt Maya up there. God help me but I felt her presence. It was like an overpowering scent. I wanted to call out to her. I needed to call out to her and tell her everything would be okay and that we’d be home soon and picking October damsons. But when I opened my mouth to call, my throat muscles locked and not a single croak emerged.

The tree shifted, but the Basilod didn’t budge. Even if it couldn’t see me, it knew I was there. I’m convinced of that. Then the tree lurched with a violence that sent branches crashing down and I was tossed aside. After that, I don’t remember much. I just ran and ran and ran until I collapsed and fell asleep.

Still exhausted. Despite the low battery I can’t turn the laptop off now. No. I’ve got it on ‘sleep’.

Trekked all day yesterday and half the night. Had to stop before I collapsed. So tired, so cold again. But I won’t light any more fires again –at least not for a while. I know now why Armbranch warned me. The fire’s a form of trap, too; a stealthy, deadly trap that could be the nastiest of them all. It tricked me. It lured me into such a false sense of comfort I barely noticed the threads of smoke coiling down around me. I must have dozed off because when I awoke I was surrounded by a gooey grey mass that seared my eyes and clawed at my lungs.

I  dived to the ground and crawled my way out through the smoke. Another few moments and I’d have suffocated in that filthy cocoon. The ‘smoke’ experience taught me one thing. It is possible to light a fire, but, like it was animal, I need to be really, really careful with it. It brought a whole new meaning to the concept of ‘playing with fire.’

Must try and sleep now. Must try and…

Something’s coming. Hell. Something’s coming through the woods. No! Not through. Above. I recognise that sound, that terrible wheezing.

God help me! The enemy’s here!

Fire’s burning nicely. It’s so relaxing to feel the heat massage my face and to watch the steam rise from my clothes. I’m going to stay here awhile until my clothes dry and the warmth loosens the chill clinging to my bones.

I’m not sure why Armbranch was so dead set against lighting a fire in here. I’ve had no problems yet. Okay, so the smoke stinks of mould and looks greyer than any smoke I’ve seen before. I can live with that. It doesn’t drift far either. It’s gathering into a small cloud about twenty feet above me. Again, it doesn’t bother me. Maybe it’ll give me some cover if anything comes.

I’ve been thinking about that creature again, that ‘other’ Armbranch. Why had no ‘wind’ come here to rescue that it and carry off the remnants of the Envelop? I don’t know. When I find Armbranch it’s the first question I’ll ask him.

I doubt if I’ll like the answer.

It’s so cold here, so cold and damp and stinking and miserable. I think I drifted in and out of sleep a few times because I remember dreaming about Maya. Then again, I’m so confused it might well have been a hallucination.

No sign of the Basilod. This place was so silent last night the sound of my breathing seemed to echo about the trees. I don’t dare imagine for a moment that the Basilod has left the island. No. The greatest fear that plagues me now is that I’ll hear Maya calling through the trees, calling me to come to her.

I’ll never be able to resist that call.

I’ts so cold, so damp; and though the sun rose an hour ago it’s still so terribly dark here. I’m going to light a fire. I don’t care what the wood turns into or what the flames might attract. I need warmth. I need light.

I need a friend.

Made a horrendous discovery this morning. Barely an hour after working my way out through the wall and putting some distance between me and the clearing, I found a creature semi-buried under a pile of fallen trees. I’d have missed it completely if I hadn’t stopped to relieve myself and seen the hand poking out from under the pile. It was only then I noticed the pile of trees looked more symmetrical than the rest of the chaos. In fact, it looked almost like a miniature wigwam.

Instinct told me the trees hadn’t fallen randomly that way. That same instinct also told me it wasn’t a trap. No. There was something so very familiar about that hand, something that made my stomach turn and my legs weaken. My first thought was that it was Armbranch. It wasn’t. When I worked my way in under the trees I found a creature lying inside that was much older. True, it looked like Armbranch in many ways. It had the same type of skin, the same spindly arms, the same crazy head. But its face was older, more weathered looking.

Armbranch in a hundred years, perhaps.

Even now I’m still trying to figure out if it was really dead or simply held in some coma like animation. Did Armbranch know this creature was here? Was that one of the reasons he insisted on coming here, to help or save it? Is the creature I found related to Armbranch in some distant way?

I’m sure of it.

I’ve made some markings around the general area so we can find it again. That’s if I find Armbranch, of course.

After that, things went better than I expected today. There were no more surprises. I kept trekking south through this fallen jungle. Yes there were traps. But apart from a vine that made a feeble attempt to snatch at the Purdy, not a single one attacked.

Yet the memory of that creature lying under those trees remained with me all day like it had somehow planted its spirit inside my head. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Everywhere I looked: in every shadow, tree, mound of vegetation, and pool of water, it was there looking back at me. I wish now I’d stayed with it longer. Maybe I should have given it a proper burial instead of the rough cover the Envelop provided.

I can’t help wondering if the same thing might happen to Armbranch. If he died, would the envelop respect him and try to cover him in a similar manner. If so, I might never find him.

I’m settling here for the night under a great tree that still has a coating of leaves clinging on. Whether I’ll sleep or not is another matter.

Things went well with O’Heir last night. After a brief email exchange he accepted our story without question even before Justin took him under the house to show him the evidence. The old cop emailed me later thanking me for everything. It was a huge relief my gamble paid off. Okay, so it was a calculated gamble, a chance I took based on what Justin knew about him. It was still a huge risk. O’Heir could have been lying about his background all along.

In fact, things went so well I couldn’t help wonder if Justin had told him already.

Yet, if letting O’Heir know he wasn’t hallucinating all those years ago might have lifted one weight off his shoulders, I can’t help wondering if I replaced it with another. Justin’s simmering away over what happened to Maya. If he comes to the boil he might be difficult to handle –even for a cop like O’Heir.

I’m leaving this clearing now. And, no matter how things work out outside, I hope to never see the inside of this wall again.

I’ve finally decided that O’Heir must be brought in on this. I’m down to a quarter battery power and if I leave it any longer I might never get the chance to communicate with him. It’s for Justin’s sake as much as everyone else’s. Up to now I’ve baulked at keeping him fully updated on the situation here. But I can’t hide the reality any longer. I’ve mailed him a full update. I’ve also asked him to summon O’Heir and briefly fill him in what’s happened our family since that hand fell out of our wall.

Once I’m done with O’Heir, I’m leaving the clearing and going after Armbranch. I’ll leave before dawn tomorrow. After that, well…

That clock in my head is ticking off minutes now. Forty-eight hours, he said. If he didn’t return by then I was to leave. There’s only seven minutes of those forty-eight hours left and there’s still no sign of him. Just as bad, there’s no sign of the Envelop regenerating itself either and that fills me with dread.

His last words are ringing loudly in my ears.

“Head for the river. Take your chances.”

No! No! No! I can’t. At least not until I know he’s failed.

But how the hell am I going to know that? Do I have to wait here until the trap wall collapses and something terrible comes crawling from the pit? No. I can’t just sit idly here. Not indefinitely anyway. That might only benefit the Basilod. Then again, it’s been so quiet here I’m starting to wonder if it’s left the island already. Has Armbranch failed? Has the beast moved on and left the island to deal with me?

A selfish part of me keeps insisting that if that’s the case then it might give me a slim advantage to get off the island. It’s a tempting but disruptive thought. Even if he failed, I can’t believe Armbranch is dead. Not for a single moment can I imagine he’s gone and our struggle is over. No. I’d have to see his corpse before I’d believe it.

Three minutes to go. Might as well be three days. He won’t be back. Something’s happened to him and I can’t sit around any longer thinking about it. I have to make an alternative plan. After so many days sitting on my ass I’ve got to do something.

But what?

Go after him, that’s what.

Rationing myself to one logon a day. Finally slept a few hours last night before a crackling snapping sound woke me shortly after dawn. It came from the wall and I initially thought Armbranch was coming through. He wasn’t. It was only a small section of the wall flexing for some reason.

Thankfully it stopped after a short while because if it hadn’t I’d have surely emptied both barrels of the Purdy into it. Even after it had stopped shifting about, it was hard not to become paranoid. For the next ten minutes or so my nerves were so edgy it was all I could do not to flee from this place. It’s so very hard to think of that wall as a type of ally instead of an enemy.

To make things even worse I started imagining I heard noises coming from the pit. I still haven’t dared look down there. No. I’d rather jump into it instead. Occasionally, as the afternoon slowly dipped into evening, I almost welcomed that idea whenever it sprouted in my mind. Can’t help thinking that if Armbranch doesn’t return, jumping into that pit might be the easiest and quickest way out of here.

Are there demons down there? If so, what kind of demons are they and will they break through if Armbranch’s plan fails?

And would I have the balls to jump down there?

No. I don’t think so. Besides, I owe it Maya to give this my best shot. I’ll go down fighting, not crying. She’s looking good tonight. So good, in fact I’m sorely tempted to use up more battery. I won’t. I’ll try to keep that last wonderful glimpse of her fresh in my memory, use it to stave off the growing darkness in my mind.

Still no sign of Armbranch; and now there’s a little clock in my head counting down the hours. Time to sign off now.

Can’t stay on long. Battery’s running down fast. Armbranch hasn’t returned. Darkness is falling quickly so I guess he won’t be back tonight. Even for him, it’s probably too dangerous to travel by night.

Not much happened here today. Once Armbranch slipped out through the wall I marked his exit point with some sticks and spent the afternoon prowling around the clearing. I didn’t go near the crevice. No matter how tempting it is to break the monotony by taking a look down there, I won’t.

God knows what I might see staring back up at me.

I don’t know how I’m ever going to sleep tonight.

Armbranch is leaving to try and find the core this morning. I want to go with him but this time he insists on going alone. Too dangerous, he says. I’d be safer here. Even if I don’t like it, I’ll admit he has a point. I’d only be holding him up and getting in the way if he’s attacked.

The thoughts of staying here alone fill me with dread –especially now the laptop battery is running down so fast. If that goes I’ll surely be on my own. And it probably wouldn’t have made much difference if I’d brought the solar roll. I doubt if it could harvest anything from the sky in this gloom.

Forty-eight hours. That’s how long he wants me to wait. If he’s not back by then I’m to strike out for the river and take my chances. Ha. He tried to sound hopeful when he said it. He even managed to smile. We both know the reality, however. Even if I made it back across the river, I’d never, ever make it back to the gateway.

I doubt if I’d last a day without him.