He stumbles back in the direction of the cabins; his hands shaking, his face red, snot running down his nose. He trips, falls to his knees, but Hemslock is suddenly there. The man hauls him up, none too pleased.

“How are you this drunk at one in the afternoon?” he shouts. “Where the hell were you? We’ve got call time in half an hour and you’re not even fucking ready! I was willing to give you the benefit of the doubt, Karl, but if you’re only going to get wasted—”

Goatee stares at him. He looks hopeless, like he’s given up on everything. “I saw her again, Rube,” he whispers. “Tabitha. She was waiting for me by the shore. Said she was going to see me soon.”

Hemslock casts a quick glance around them. “You need help, Karl. It’s been years. As soon as we get home, I’m marching you straight to rehab. Pollock’s a discreet place; they’ll treat you right.”

Oddly enough, Goatee smiles. “I don’t think anything can help me anymore, Rube. And you know that? That feels—it’s a relief.”

He straightens himself, brushes off the man’s help, and lurches toward the cabins.

Hemslock gazes after him, frowning. “What did you see?” he asks me.

I look back at the trees. “Consequences,” is all I say, knowing Goatee is lost.

***

The call to gather in front of the cave occurs half an hour later, and it takes another hour to set up everyone with the necessary equipment. A crew member straps a mic on me, while the others are outfitted with small cameras on their helmets and body vests. There are ten of us: me, Hemslock, Goatee, Gries, a scientist, a researcher, and four of Hemslock’s bodyguards. Chase is talking with his father, trying his best to dissuade him from joining. “Please, Dad,” he protests, “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“Nothing’s going to happen,” her father says reassuringly. He puts up a brave front, but I see the dark circles under his eyes, proof that he hasn’t had much sleep. “A team went in yesterday, and they were fine. I’ve been spelunking for years, and the network of tunnels they’ve mapped out isn’t extensive enough to worry. We’ll be okay.”

“If it’s okay, then at least let me go inside with you.”

“Absolutely not. You know nothing about caves. Why don’t you go and take more pictures of the beach for your followers?”

Chase glares at him. “You think I’m shallow for doing what I do, but you think what you’re doing isn’t insane?” he snaps at him, then stomps off.

“He may be right, sir,” I say softly.

“I’m just jet lagged. I’ll be okay.”

“Seeing your dead wife isn’t jet lag.”

Gries starts violently. Wipes his forehead with his sleeve.

“I need to know what happened to her,” he says. “I’ll do anything to know.”

“We’ve marked off parts of the caverns that are safe to move through,” the scientist tells us. “There’ll be luminescent paint and some physical markers we’ve placed inside so you can see the boundaries. Everything beyond that is still unexplored territory, and I advise you not to wander. That said, I don’t foresee any problems.”