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The thunder rolled and echoed an indecipherable answer as Father Thomas hurried across the landscape to the hulking shape in the distance. Rain lashed down onto the tiny areas of exposed flesh; his face, his hands, the back of his neck, prickling them with icy needles. He barely noticed. The rock face drew closer and now he could make out the figure stood huddled at its base, seeking what little shelter it offered, waiting. The tow men nodded grimly on meeting, pleasantries dispensed of in the face of fear.

"Thank you for coming, father," George Craddock muttered the last word almost as an after thought, disliking the foreign feel of it in his mouth. Craddock wasn't a man with whom religion sat easily. He liked hard facts, things he could see and feel. Though he was well past his fiftieth birthday, he was still and impressive figure, over six feet in height and broad shouldered.

"You're welcome, though I'm not sure what I can do. It what you say is true" he trailed off, the words hanging in the air between them, the implications an almost palpable presence there.

"I just want your opinion is all." He paused, needing a reason, needing logic in the face of something which defied it. "I didn't know who else to ask. The others won't set foot in there anymore, they're no help." Another pause. Craddock swallowed hard. "They're afraid."

Silence descended, broken only by the sound of the rain and a gust of wind swirling dead leaved around the feet of the two men.

"I understand," the young priest eventually replied, even though he didn't really. Silence again for a moment, then. "Shall we go in?"

It was clear Craddock was sickened by the idea; his skin looked grey and clammy, despite the cold night air, his eyes were round and darting nervously around as though he expected the devil himself to appear. And maybe he did.

"I want you to hear it first, the recording. Then I'll show you the rest." He turned and strode purposefully towards a large gap in the otherwise solid rock face. The entrance to it was black, seeming somehow darker even than the night. To the right of this a small wooden structure stood, and it was to this the large man went first. As they reached it, Craddock paused and fished out two flashlights from his deep pockets. He handed one to the priest and switched it on.

Inside the walls of the building were covered with maps and strange drawings. A long bench along one wall held a mass of equipment, most of which was unidentifiable to Tom. But the recording

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