Pickens and I scoured the first floor, reviewing the camp logs and the geological surveys, finding nothing after the reported loss of the second
survey team. I concluded that the other four men must have been suiting up and preparing the last two rovers in the garage when it was consumed by the
seismic collapse. After confirming that the other two teams were preparing the science equipment for removal from the other two floors, Pickens and I
returned to the transport. He took a dolly back into the building while I prepared the hold for the more sensitive equipment.
The shaking was sudden and so violent that I lost my footing and fell from the back of the transport landing on the hard dust covered surface rock on
my side. It was there that I watched three stories of the top of the line planetary exploration technology sink in a matter of seconds. The chaotic
rumble was accompanied by the sounds of metal grinding and crumpling as though it was the most pliable of foils. I don't know how long it took before
I noticed that Pickens was clinging to the lip of the hole where the camp once stood, but as soon as I did I ran to him and plucked him from the
precipice. He lay there on the ground muttering in whispered tones, I chalked it up to the shock of what had just happened, I couldn't believe what I
just witnessed either. An eight-man science team disappearing, six of them without a trace and now four more gone with the last three buildings in the
base camp. I stood there gazing down into the enormous earthen pit; no rubble at the bottom, just the loosely packed dirt and rock of the planet’s
surface. I stood silently, somewhere between respecting the dead and feeling a dizzying bewilderment as the situation began to sink itself into my
psyche.
I dropped to my hands and knees, my legs unable to support my weight any longer steadying myself with deep breaths, resisting an instinctual need to
feint as I felt as though my blood was no longer in my body. The feeling passed and I crawled over to the still muttering, still shaking, wild-eyed
Pickens. I could not hear him but I could just make out some of the words on his lips, I believe my lip-reading abilities are not up to par, but what
I saw was "Eyes, were they eyes? A mouth... teeth... doomed, we're doomed." Pickens’s face would lend truth to any story, no matter how horrific,
but this is a barren dead planet. I administered a tranquilizer to Pickens and carried him to the transport after he had fallen asleep.
Pickens awoke some time after we arrived at the site of the first seismic event, I was already standing outside when he walked up to and stopped
beside me. The man did not regard me at all; he stared over the crater, into the vastness of the horizon. I stared at him as he stood there
unblinking, he made no attempt to say anything, through his visor I could see his lips as still as the rest of him. He stood for minutes as still as
the planet around him. I wanted to ask him what he saw, hoping the time and rest had steadied his thoughts, but I could form no sounds, I was
paralyzed by his presence… or absence as it seemed.
When I finally found my voice, I told Pickens I had radioed the ship in orbit and told them what had happened. I told him that I transmitted all the
data from the science equipment that I could and after I quick check of the original anomaly, that we would return to the P.I.E.C.* and get the hell
off this planet. That’s when he finally spoke, that’s when I heard him whisper… “We won’t.”
I laughed at the absurdity of Pickens’ insinuation that we would both die there and insisted he follow me back to the transport. I could see an
electrical storm brewing on the horizon behind the transport so I turned back and insisted that Pickens hurry. I watched him take one full stride and
descend over the edge. I grabbed the winch and attached it to my harness as I ran to the crater; in a mix of fury and defiance, leapt off the cliff
and began to rappel down to my friend. I was only ten feet from his body when I could see that he was already dead. The visor on the expeditionary
suit’s helmet is the most reinforced part of the entire outfit and it was marred by a three inch hole on the left side, about nose high; Pickens
must have landed face first for that to have happened. I took a moment to pray for my friend and used my remote device to retract the winch and begin
scaling the vertical wall of the crater.
As I climbed into the cockpit of the transport I could see that the storm was growing and seemed to cover half the visible horizon. I had to head for
the ship quickly, as the edge of the storm seemed to parallel my intended course. I nearly vomited several times on the trip back to the ship, I
couldn’t understand how everything had happened the way it did. Thirteen men were dead from sudden and unexplainable seismic collapse… make that
eleven, I still don’t know for sure what happened to Zhirim and Orrence, but the timeline suggests they were caught in a storm similar to the one
that was closing in on my vehicle.
I had finally made it back to the ship and climbed into the pilot’s seat of the P.I.E.C. after securing the transport in the hold when the ground
began to shake violently. Only one thing went through my mind as I struggled to get up from the chair and out of the craft. I prayed as I ran; I
prayed that this wasn’t happening, that this was a dream… a nightmare typical of planetary exploration and recovery operators. I began to stumble
as the rock sank away beneath my feet. The breath was knocked from my lungs as I slammed into the edge of the pit, but I managed to pull myself up
over the ledge and look back to watch my only way off this rock sink into oblivion.
It was then that I saw it, that which drove Pickens over the edge, a great maw lined with dozens of rows of conical teeth, each as large as a man
snapped shut, swallowing tons of rocks and sand and… the only thing that can get me off this planet. I could see numerous empty, black eyes on both
sides of its massive jaws; they had no direction… just an empty forward stare.
I will run out of air at least two hours before the crew still in orbit even thinks something is amiss when I haven’t reported in. This is the end
of my entry into this personal recorder… I have to go now.
A storm is coming.

