One rainy day, six teenagers (along with some recording equipment) were sent out into the wilds of the Pacific Northwest. Their mission: to combat the paranormal while still making a multi-million dollar grossing feature film. They have yet to return. . . .

Day One (cont.)

Paul whirled when he heard a high-pitched shriek. His mind had barely registered that Raven had tripped and was about to plunge head-first into Puget Sound when he lunged, wrapping one arm around Raven's waist as his other hand grabbed the camera. He pulled back so hard that the wind was knocked out of Raven's lungs and the camera was launched into the air. M dove, catching the camera with a slight thud and cradling it in her arms. Raven and Paul fell backwards onto the deck of the boat. Paul had his arms wrapped so tightly around her that she landed in his lap. Embarrassed, Raven colored a delicate shade of rose, but she hid her face behind long black hair.

Grant offered a hand to haul Raven to her feet, then did likewise for Paul. Elisa, of course, took the opportunity to fawn over the hero of the moment. The girl clung tighter than Saran Wrap. Raven moved to apologize to M and resume her duties as camerawoman when Paul somehow managed to detangle himself from Elisa and took the camera himself.

"You don't trust me?" Raven cried defensively.

Elisa slithered up to the group. "Why should we? You almost lost everything."

"Oh, yeah, like you helped," came Raven's retort.

"Well, I wasn't the one with the camera. Anyways, I'm tired of your picking on me."

"That's unfair, Elisa." Paul didn't get far before Raven cut him off.

"I pick on you and Grant equally."

"Enough!" M shouted. "Or do I have to place you two on opposite sides of the country?"

"Sounds good to me," Raven muttered.

"Hey, has anyone seen Grant?" Paul ran out to the dock, filming all the way. Grant was standing about twenty yards away beside a green four-door sedan.

"Hey guys!" he shouted, waving. "I found the car."

The others ran to him, opened the trunk of the car, and started storing the equipment and supplies. Paul placed the movie camera in its case and removed an 8 mm camcorder from another bag.

"Argh!" Raven shouted. "If we had one of those, why in Hecate's name did I have to carry that monstrosity?" She pounded a heavily beringed fist on the hood of the car. Just as she was about to follow suit with her head, she noticed a petite, nondescript woman sitting in the driver's seat. "Who are you?"

"That's Blair," Grant answered with pride. (Probably because he finally knew something worthwhile.) "She's the one to take us to the next stop on the mission."

"And where is that?" M inquired.

Grant had to think about that one. "Umm, she can't tell us. She only has instructions on where to drive, but we're supposed to get more instructions there."

"It's like freaking 'Road Rules,'" Raven muttered.

"A Ford Taurus?!" Elisa started shrieking out of the blue. "An American family car. I won't stand for it!"

"Elisa." M's voice held a threatening tone. Surprisingly, Elisa shut up. "Now, I know this will be a bit of a tight fit and uncomfortable, but keep in mind that we have a mission to complete. Are we in agreement?" Her question was met with a general consensus. "All right. For the first leg of our journey, Grant, Paul, and Elisa will sit—" She stopped as Blair shook her head violently. "Oh, you are supposed to . . . well, go ahead Blair. But make sure you put Elisa and Raven as far away from each other as possible." M urgently whispered the last plea.

Blair indicated that Grant, Raven, and Paul were to sit in the back. They started to climb in, with Grant in the middle when she stopped them. Apparently Blair was being very particular about where people sat. M and Elisa joined her in the front.

"All right, people." M tried to sound cheerful—it was very out of character. "Here we go."

3:58 p.m.

Paul could only film so many evergreen trees whizzing by before he started to get a headache, so he turned the camcorder to the car's occupants. Blair, in the driver's seat, was invisible behind the seatback. Elisa sat with her walkman and a small stack of fashion magazines. Where those had come from, he had no idea. M had her laptop plugged into the cigarette lighter typing records of the day's events. In the back, Grant was dozing off, probably dreaming of  black sand beaches and pineapple. Raven perused a rather heavy, antique-looking book. Whatever the book was, it wasn't in English. With nothing else of interest in sight, Paul switched off the camera. After awhile, the rhythmic hum of the road caused him to drift off.

6:33 p.m.

A blinding flash of light startled Paul from his slumber. For a moment he forgot where he was. The car was still moving, and the light was merely the headlights of a passing car. The narrow, two-lane highway sported dense forest on either side and no streetlights. It was close to sunset, and the sky was a dusky shade of teal. He moved to pick up the camcorder when his head cleared enough to register a slight weight against his chest and something warm against his arm. His eyes widened in cartoon-like shock as he discovered Raven nestled comfortably against him with his arm around her as she slept. Gingerly, he pulled away from her. This was supposed to be a movie, not a soap opera. Just as he picked up the camcorder, the car screeched to a halt, jolting the four sleeping passengers awake.

"Blair, what is going on?" M demanded.

Blair wordlessly pointed to a truck blocking the road in front of them. The vehicle was dead and perhaps deserted. M and Grant reached the SUV first with Paul close behind, filming. He had just gotten the picture into focus when Elisa emitted a piercing scream.

"She's dead!"