Certainly the shock must have shewed on my face when I was confronted by a prompt and vehement round of rejections of this plan. Miss Williams was the first to speak up, noting that without her vehicle and the appropriated truck, it would be a long walk indeed into the marsh and reminded me of the disaster that might have already befallen me without her presence in Professor Newstead’s study. Both Lt. Alenko and his swarthy companion insisted that it was a matter of pride to determine if their erstwhile countrymen had embraced some sort of vile form of ritual and cult, and my old acquaintance hinted that he had dreamed a terrible outcome to the matter, if steps were not taken, though he refused to elaborate. Seeing his haggard appearance in a new light, I did not press the matter. Miss Zorah merely shook her head firmly in quiet insistence that she would not be deterred from seeing things through.
Inspector Vakarian summed up the general feeling for the others best, perhaps: “Shepard, you are a fine chap and a gentleman besides. But having seen what I’ve seen, I couldn’t say the same of myself if I showed the white feather now. I’m your man.”
With the support such stalwart friends in the face of dangers unknown, my spirits could not help but be lifted, though the shadow of the nightmares faced less than half a day before still weighed heavily on me. Here I had found fellow scholars and seekers after knowledge tried sorely yet undaunted by the terrors already witnessed. Without them, and the original assistance of Miss T’soni, there is no one who could say what might have happened. Perhaps I would have remained in blissful ignorance until the end. There are many things I would as soon forget about all that has transpired since the day Miss Zorah entered my office at Miskatonic University, but the friendships I renewed and found along that hellish path to what must be my ultimate destination are not among them.