“I knew it,” he says. “I fucking knew it!”

He begins to fire again—at whatever it is he sees in the dark. He continues to unload into the shadows until the click of his gun tells us that he is out of bullets.

“I knew it,” he repeats. “You bitch. You really think you’re fooling me?”

“Sir,” one of the bodyguards speaks up. The soldiers look nervous, as the man paying their wages exhibits the same insanity that Armani has manifested. “Sir. There’s nothing there.”

Hemslock stares hard at the dark of the cave. “Not anymore,” he says, reloading his gun but—to my relief—moving back toward the entrance, stepping over the tree creature’s remains.

Its roots quiver—and then latch around his ankle.

Hemslock goes down with a yell. Six of his solders rush for him, drawing out heavy army knives. Expertly, they slice at the roots ensnaring their employer, who’s frantically trying to kick free. One of the bodyguards turns his own gun to where the base of still-moving roots lay at their thickest. Several more blasts and the heap shudders to a standstill.

Two of the soldiers haul Hemslock forward, out of the cave. Two more carry Armani, and the rest form the rear, on the alert for any more threats as we run back toward the beach.

The film crew waits outside the cave, surprise on their faces. “That was fast,” Straw Hat says in a bid to be jovial, but his features grow stricken when he sees Armani.

The medics rush forward. This time, Armani doesn’t put up a fight as he is once more restrained. He only blinks and stares. “We are not worthy,” is all he says, over and over again. “We are not worthy. Forgive me. I am sorry. Forgive me.”

“He’s as good as gone,” Hawaiian Shirt says.

Hemslock has shaken off his bodyguards and stands upright on his own. “Get the case,” he snaps, and two of his men leave.

“What the hell is the matter with you?” Gries asks him angrily.

“I saved your life,” the actor says tersely. Whatever he saw within the confines of the cave still haunts Hemslock. I can see the strain in his eyes despite his effort to sound calm. “You would have been dead, or worse off than Steve.”

“What the hell were you shooting at?” one of his soldiers asks him.

For a moment, a look of indescribable rage crosses Hemslock’s face, and it is frightening to see. But it passes quickly, and he resumes his arrogant air. “That’s not of any importance to you. What’s important is that we got Steve back without losing anyone else. Melissa, are we able to reach anyone on the mainland?”

“Communication’s still down, sir. Internet isn’t working.”

“How are we going to know when the storm is over?” Gries explodes. “All I see is calm, serene sky with no rain in sight.”

“We still have some business to take care of here,” Hemslock insists. “You saw it, right? Guns work on these bastards.”