Arra had every intention of staying away from the set—from the set, from the gate, from the whole inevitable disaster. At 11:11, according to the clock on the tech monitor, she was standing behind the video village wondering just what, exactly, she thought she was doing.

Gathering information?

Yes. That sounded safe enough.

She needed information in order to plan, in order to survive, which meant that vested self-interest had brought her out of her workshop—not curiosity nor, heaven forbid, an inexplicable desire to become involved. Once was enough. More than.

The big carbon arc lamp was on, maintaining ambient light for the close-ups. It was throwing an uncomfortable amount of heat, and was clearly the reason her T-shirt was now sticking to a line of sweat dribbling down her spine. As long as it stayed on, she couldn’t see a shadow making it through.

Peter sat back and pushed his headphones down around his neck. “That’s got it.”

And the light shut off.

Cue dramatic irony.

“No!”

As all eyes turned toward him, Tony suddenly realized he’d spoken aloud.

Yelled actually.

Peter leaned around the edge of the monitor to fix him with an interrogative gaze. “Problem, Mr. Foster?”

Mister? He was so screwed. He could feel the vibration beginning, the gate opening. What difference did it make if he looked like an ass? He had to say something! Arra! Arra was there. Behind Peter. She’d back him up. Right. Who the fuck am I kidding. “Sorry. I uh . . . thought I saw one of the lights shift.”

Everyone looked up. Everyone but him.

He looked at Arra. Who was looking up. But not at the lights.

Her face had paled and she was panting; even from ten feet away, he could see her chest rise and fall. He could almost see the terror oozing off her like . . . like the maggots oozing out of the corpse. Oh, yeah, I really needed that image.

The vibrations grew stronger.

“Can anyone else feel that?”

Together, Tony and Arra stared at Lee.

“Feel what?” Laura asked cautiously.

Frowning, the actor rubbed his jaw. “It’s like there’s a . . . I don’t know, like a bee trapped in my head.”

Tony would have said dentist’s drill, but bee was close enough. No one else seemed to be noticing. Because of the shadow in him? he mouthed at Arra.

She shrugged—he had no idea if the gesture was an answer or because she couldn’t lip-read.

“All right people, if we give it some gas, we can get Dad’s reactions in the can before lunch. B-camera, you ready?”

“Good to go, Boss.”

“Lee?”

A shadow brushed across Lee’s face. He stiffened and screamed.

Seven

Seven

TONY JUMPED forward as Lee’s knees began to buckle and managed to slide an arm under his head just before bone impacted with concrete.

A small bounce as the back of her head impacted with concrete.