The Breach - Ghost Country - Deep Sky

to. I was shivering hard when I woke, could feel the sound from the opening, like it was going right through my body and making my bones hum. Got up fast and saw that Graham was out there, too, and the fat guy who works for him, Kurson, I think his name is. Both asleep. I woke them and they were as surprised as me to find themselves there.
    Back in the room with the door shut, could not seem to relax. A woman from DOE, someone’s assistant, spilled a few Cheez-its and tossed them in the trash, and I blew up at her, seriously thought I would physically attack her until the others calmed me down. I apologized later.
    What the fuck is up with someone coming to get us? What is it, a couple days now? I don’t even know. This is bullshit. When this is over someone’s getting an earful from me and probably legal action. Seriously, what the fuck?
     
    QUITE A FEW HOURS AFTER LAST ENTRY
     
    I sat next to Ruben a long time and read to him from a paperback he had in his desk, in case he can hear somehow. Maybe I just did it to try blocking out the sound from the chamber.
    Then, I don’t know why, but I got up and went out there, out into the chamber. Stood staring at the rip/opening. It’s beautiful, and you know what else? When you’re looking at it, the sound is not entirely bad. I’ll probably tell Graham to try it for himself, I think he’d be able to appreciate it.
     
    I GUESS A DAY LATER
     
    Pretty bad tension among the people down here, I guess it is to be expected with us all crammed in like this. I am not fitting in with the group much at all. I can’t wait to get out of this place and never see these people again. Another bad argument a little while ago (the third or fourth one) this time with me against almost all of them, except Graham and Kurson.
    A few of the guys teamed up and tried to demand that we stop going to the chamber to listen to the sound up close. They are saying that it does something to us, and that we’re causing grief as a result. But we aren’t causing ALL the arguments, I don’t think. So nice try, but you guys can fuck off. I shouldn’t get pissed like this.
    The sound is pretty soothing now. It’s all that keeps me in my wits down here. When will they come for us?
     
    TIME IS HARD TO FOLLOW LATELY, I THINK IT IS A DAY LATER
     
    I have this weird, shitty hunch about Ruben Ward, but don’t want to write it down.
    Also, I have to admit, I’m having a hard time staying focused, and today my right arm was shaking for like an hour when I was out in the chamber. But it’s not from the sound. I really do like it quite a bit.
     
    QUITE A LOT LATER
     
    My hunch is Ruben is faking now. Was really unconscious at first, of course, but faking now so that he can stay out of the arguments and not have to side with me against all of these fucking people. It pisses me off if it’s true. I tried really hard to wake him up just now, hitting him in the face even. Then many of the others pulled me away from him (of course they would if he’s on their side the cowardly piece of shit). Now I am out in the hall by the chamber writing this.
    Only the voices from the breach (we started calling it the breach, we like that name for it) make it better.
    I will tolerate these people, but I know I would not lose sleep if they all got hit by a goddamned bus.
     
    MANY, MANY HOURS (IT MIGHT BE A DAY OR MORE) LATER
     
    Why? Why are you doing this? You don’t have to be doing this.
    Graham and Kurson and I were in the chamber for a long time and came back to find the rest had jammed the door shut with one of the desks. Graham was rightly upset and tried to break in through the glass, but the polycarbonate is very strong.
    Not even kidding, I would love to kill all of these people, and Graham is the same. Kurson just nods, I wonder if he is only telling us what we want to hear.
    I like the blue and purple there is a dance to it.
     
    HOURS I THINK BUT TIME IS GETTING IMPOSSIBLE TO KNOW
     
    Kind of losing the knack for keeping all that stuff straight, hours and minutes. I think I’ve taken for granted all my life how hard time is to keep track of. Quite hard. Quite a trick to it, I think.
    STILL DAVE HERE DID I MENTION THAT?
    No desire to go back into the room with the others, but just the principle involved drives me mad. I stand at the glass and look in at them, and they won’t look at me, and fucking Ruben you fake coward motherfucker, I swear you are going to pay.
    But mostly I am calm. Never been