“Exactly! Its face was peeling off, and it was naked—”

Hawaiian Shirt raises his hands. “Well, what do you want me to do about that? Write it up for HR to sanction? Did it attack?”

“No,” Panera Lady falters. “It disappeared. I can’t stay here, Gerry. I want out, I want—”

“Look. Supernatural sightings are great for PR, but there aren’t really any ghosts. People see all kinds of weird crap out in the boondocks. I know you’re both scared, but my hands are tied till Hemslock gets here. Tasha, you’ll be off the island soon, so hold on till then. Don’t let Gries make it hard for you—he’s fired people for less.”

Theirs is not the only report made. The number of sightings grows as the days pass, giving Hawaiian Shirt more reason to worry. Something with tangled, dark hair skulking among the trees. Naked. And yet somehow not naked, either. No face that anyone could remember.

Until they could.

In the space of a day, the accounts shift again. There is a face, and it’s the face of a cameraman’s father, dead for years. It’s the face of a staff writer’s estranged brother, a production coordinator’s best friend, a gaffer’s school bully. The sightings last no longer than a few seconds. All happen within the vicinity of camp.

Frustrated, Hawaiian Shirt cancels filming for the day and sends everyone back to their tents. There are no new reports the next day, but one of the generators stops working, and it takes another half a day to fix. In the afternoon, one of the water tanks produces greenish, bracken-like fluid for an hour before reverting to normal. A check reveals nothing has been tampered with.

Next there’s a scream in the middle of taping. It unnerves the crew, and this time Hawaiian Shirt hears it as well. The safety team does a check. Everyone is accounted for. No one claims responsibility.

“Are there animals on the island?” Hawaiian Shirt asks me, trying his best to act calm though it is clear he’s unnerved.

“Only insects and fish. And Askal.”

Askal barks importantly.

“It was a woman’s scream, wasn’t it? Wasn’t that what you mentioned hearing before? When we first met?”

I nod.

“Equipment breaks down all the time, so that’s to be expected. But some are claiming they’ve seen the ghosts of their grandpa or people who should be dead. What’s that all about? How is that related to the screams?”

“Should I tell you now,” I ask dryly, “or wait for the cameras?”

I am not expecting him to take me up on the offer.

Soon Hawaiian Shirt is hollering at the cameramen, for the light technicians to work their magic, for assistants to pin a mic on me and make sure they can hear every word. Askal dances in and around their legs, excited by the flurry of activity.

“All right,” Hawaiian Shirt says, determined, once everything has been set up. “You can answer now. What’s the deal with all these so-called sightings?”