There was a smell. And it was not the cow; the wind was wrong for that. I have been in trenches. I have crawled through mud churned with the gore of the living turned dead. I know the smell of death. It was everywhere.
Part of me wanted to believe this was a grand jape, a joke to end all jokes, myself the butt. That Tommy and the others were hiding in the temple, or had slipped out and around me and were safe and warm in their houses, waiting to laugh at me upon my return.
But I could not deny the smell of death, and the knowledge that Tommy and the other thirteen fools were never coming back.
The temple waited. I trembled, I shook, I am not ashamed to say I wept. But at last I set foot inside and found nothing—or so I thought. It was empty, the floor bare save the patterns Tommy meticulously laid into the black-and-white stonework. Even though it was empty, I felt no relief. No release. Because of that smell.
And then I noticed it. The gentle inhale and exhale, the steady pace of sleeping breath.
Something was there, and I could not see it. Something slept, breathing deeply, soft wet exhalations. My eyes insisted nothing was there, but I could hear it, I could smell it. I ran then, from the temple and the woods, then shut and locked the gate behind myself, haunted and hunted.
Tommy and Mary and the rest are gone. Whatever they did, they left something behind.
JULY 30, 1925
I hate them. I hate them all.
AUGUST 15, 1925
Following I have transcribed the instructions he left for me. I don’t have his book, the one he found and brought here, the one he took his terrible instructions from. His brother took it and I was too shell-shocked to stop him. I am only sorry I don’t have it so I cannot burn it. I am only sorry I did not take my knife and gut Tommy as he tried to walk into the trees. I am only sorry I ever met him, ever knew him, ever loved him. He gets to be dead and I have to live with what he did, what he made.
The burden is mine now. Tommy saw to that. He must have hated me, I think. Or he did not know, he did not suspect, he did not realize. But I cannot be generous to him or his memory. Not after what he has done.
I will watch at the gate. I will stand sentinel to the horror they left behind. And every moment for the rest of my life I will be haunted by the sound of that breathing, wet and slow and waiting, and breathe out my own hatred for my friend and his thirteen fools.
* * *
—
No, I will not bear this alone. Their children will know, and carry this burden, and remember what their parents did for them. To them.
To us all.
JULY 21, 1925
Instructions left by Tommy Callas on behalf of the Callas, Pulsipher, Nicely, Stratton, Young, Harrell, and Frye families, to be followed exactly:
We have paid the price and secured our prize. It is not what we expected, but we have faith god we must have faith we have to have faith faith is all that is left to us we have faith that the transaction will be honored. Prosperity and protection on all our blood from this moment onward through all generations of time.
We have paid this first price and when the last of us has been consumed, it will be me, I have witnessed them all except my beloved Mary and myself we are all that are left and Mary sits as though already consumed, here but gone from me all the same, I have loved her and it led us here so I must have faith I will have faith.
When I am consumed it will sleep and it will protect us and we will have given you what our parents could not give us what our country could not, we will have secured your fates and prosperity.
Prosper.
Prosper.
It is your right. It is paid for.
Set a watch. When it wakes if it wakes it will need to be fed. This deal has been sealed with our blood and will continue with our blood. Feed it and prosper and feel our love. My Mary was a woman built from love burning with it fueled by it and now she has burned out.
Set the watch.
Do not leave the gate open.
Do not let it go hungry.
Do not forget that we love you and you deserve this gift.
It awakens. Our time is over. We will be consumed for our children and our children’s children and our children’s children’s children.
The price is paid willingly and with faith for the future that the future will hold the faith with us and we will endure through you I have faith I have faith I have faith I have faith but oh god there are stars beyond its maw and they are stars I do not know and my Mary has gone to them and now I will too.
Farewell.
JULY 15, 1926
They did not believe me, did not want to believe me, these brothers and sisters and children, until we entered the temple and the screaming started. It is not a monster for me, and yet it is my monster. I am not covered by Tommy’s blessings, but I still suffer the cost.