“Steve!” Leo Gries grabs the bag and shoves it back at the other man. “Alon isn’t the hired help!”

Armani shrugs. “Well, my cabin’s on the left. That’s where I expect it to be by the time I get there.”

“This is Steve Galant,” Hawaiian Shirt says, with lesser enthusiasm. “Another of the show’s executive producers.”

Armani scrutinizes me. “So you’re the kid Gerry’s been going on about? Your English’s impressive.”

“Steve!” Gries exclaims once again.

Melissa takes the suitcase and shoots me an apologetic look as she lugs it away.

Armani laughs, pats me on the back. “I’m kidding. If Gerry’s right, you’re gonna be the hidden star of this show. Just don’t tell Hemslock I said that. We’re gonna talk shop at dinner. Stay and eat with us. I’d like to pick your brain about this place.”

Leo Gries turns back to me when Armani leaves. “Can you give us an idea why so many of the people living nearby have refused to tell us anything about Kisapmata?”

“At least fifteen people have already died on this island, sir. The people here do not want to be blamed for any more deaths.”

“Fifteen?” Chase breathes. “And it’s not like, drownings or shark attacks? Like people were murdered? Even though no one actually lives here?”

His father sighs. “Yes, Chase. Actual murders took place here. If you’d read the articles I gave you, you would have known that. The murder of the poor woman by that cult is the one we want more information about. We’ve been asking for any related documents from the municipalities for months, but they only shrug and say they can’t find any. Likely destroyed by now, they said.”

“A woman’s murder?” Chase echoes nervously. “Cult?”

“Apparently there was an active cult here a couple of decades ago. They were supposedly killed on the island before they could be arrested, but all we’ve found are rumors and secondhand accounts. No official case reports. I’ve been hoping that we could find someone here willing to talk. Do you know anything about this, Alon?”

I shake my head.

Askal ambles toward Chase, sensing his nervousness. The boy absently reaches down and scratches him behind the ears. “Nice dog,” he says. “Is he yours?”

“Yeah.”

“Some lab mix?”

“Maybe. We don’t pay much attention to pedigrees here.”

Chase smiles, and it transforms his face. The worry in his brow eases and he appears more relaxed. “Heya, Askal. You’re a cute fella, just like—”

He stops and turns red. Askal yips happily and licks at his hands.

Hawaiian Shirt shoves his into his pants pockets and sighs.

“We’ve got more problems,” he says. “Did Cameron tell you the local first responders won’t be coming if we run into any emergencies? That we gotta fly in our own medics? They really hate this island.”

“They don’t hate it,” I say.

“Could have fooled me.”

“They aren’t fearful of the curse. They’re afraid of what all of you might do while you’re here.”