Annihilation Read Free Page B

on the binoculars.
    Whatever was consuming the boar also soon consumed its desire to charge. It veered
     abruptly leftward, with what I can only describe as a great cry of anguish, into the
     underbrush. By the time we reached that spot, the boar was gone, leaving behind a
     thoroughly thrashed trail.
    For several hours, my thoughts turned inward toward explanations for what I had seen:
     parasites and other hitchhikers of a neurological nature. I was searching for entirely
     rational biological theories. Then, after a time, the boar faded into the backdrop
     like all else that we had passed on our way from the border, and I was staring into
     the future again.
    *   *   *
    The morning after we discovered the tower we rose early, ate our breakfast, and doused
     our fire. There was a crisp chill to the air common for the season. The surveyor broke
     open the weapons stash and gave us each a handgun. She herself continued to hold on
     to the assault rifle; it had the added benefit of a flashlight under the barrel. We
     had not expected to have to open that particular container so soon, and although none
     of us protested, I felt a new tension between us. We knew that members of the second
     expedition to Area X had committed suicide by gunshot and members of the third had
     shot each other. Not until several subsequent expeditions had suffered zero casualties
     had our superiors issued firearms again. We were the twelfth expedition.
    So we returned to the tower, all four of us. Sunlight came down dappled through the
     moss and leaves, created archipelagos of light on the flat surface of the entrance.
     It remained unremarkable, inert, in no way ominous … and yet it took an act of will
     to stand there, staring at the entry point. I noticed the anthropologist checking
     her black box, was relieved to see it did not display a glowing red light. If it had,
     we would have had to abort our exploration, move on to other things. I did not want
     that, despite the touch of fear.
    “How deep do you think it goes down?” the anthropologist asked.
    “Remember that we are to put our faith in your measurements,” the psychologist answered,
     with a slight frown. “The measurements do not lie. This structure is 61.4 feet in
     diameter. It is raised 7.9 inches from the ground. The stairwell appears to have been
     positioned at or close to due north, which may tell us something about its creation,
     eventually. It is made of stone and coquina, not of metal or of bricks. These are
     facts. That it wasn’t on the maps means only that a storm may have uncovered the entrance.”
    I found the psychologist’s faith in measurements and her rationalization for the tower’s
     absence from maps oddly … endearing? Perhaps she meant merely to reassure us, but
     I would like to believe she was trying to reassure herself. Her position, to lead
     and possibly to know more than us, must have been difficult and lonely.
    “I hope it’s only about six feet deep so we can continue mapping,” the surveyor said,
     trying to be lighthearted, but then she, and we, all recognized the term “six feet
     under” ghosting through her syntax and a silence settled over us.
    “I want you to know that I cannot stop thinking of it as a tower ,” I confessed. “I can’t see it as a tunnel.” It seemed important to make the distinction
     before our descent, even if it influenced their evaluation of my mental state. I saw
     a tower, plunging into the ground. The thought that we stood at its summit made me
     a little dizzy.
    All three stared at me then, as if I were the strange cry at dusk, and after a moment
     the psychologist said, grudgingly, “If that helps make you more comfortable, then
     I don’t see the harm.”
    A silence came over us again, there under the canopy of trees. A beetle spiraled up
     toward the branches, trailing dust motes. I think we all realized that only now had
     we truly entered Area X.
    “I’ll go first and see what’s