"No. That's not what happened," Ken insists.
"I think that's exactly what happened. You got yourself all worked up because you're here thinking you're going to find something mystical and amazing, got spooked in the dark and ended up letting your imagination get the best of you. You decided it would be edgy and interesting to come up here, ended up finding somebody's camp, and freaking out. Now you are ruining the sanctity and solitude of these woods, and this place in particular, for your little ghost show. You came up here looking for something and convinced yourself you found it."
"That isn't what's happening. This is a legitimate investigation. It is the thirteenth anniversary of the disappearances of those four guys…"
"Don't start lecturing me on that," the officer snaps. "Don't you think I know exactly what day it is? Do you know where I was thirteen years ago? Right here. In this damn park, looking for those idiots. And the year before that I was searching for three others. And the year before that, two others. And the year before that I was a rookie who got dragged out here to search under every leaf and rock in this damn forest looking for a little girl. I found a shoe that didn't belong to her. I listened to her mother crying. And then two months later, I watched them take what was left of her and put it in a forensics van. This isn't a game for me, you little prick. I think it's bullshit you're even allowed to be out here, and if I find out that this is some kind of asinine stunt you did to get extra ratings for your special, I will find every single law I can throw at you so I can make sure you don't see the light of day again for a long time. I have half a mind to throw you in jail right now for filing a false report. Do I make myself very clear?"
"That police officer is getting really worked up," Sam notes.
"This guy is wasting his time. He got everybody calling the emergency number and they radioed for help for absolutely nothing being wrong because he's so convinced there's something on that mountain," I say.
"What's your name?" Ken asks.
"Excuse me?" the officer asks through gritted teeth.
"What's your name? You didn't bother to give it when you came here accusing me of doing something I didn't do."
"Roland Davis," the officer says.
"Well, Officer Davis, I don't know what it is you have against me, but I didn't do anything wrong. I don't fake evidence, and I don't get so out of control during an investigation I hallucinate. And remember, I'm not the only one who saw them. My co-host did, too. She's the one who brought them to my attention."
"And where is she?" Officer McVey asks.
"She stayed down at the lake to continue her investigation," Ken says.
"We need to speak with her," Davis says. "And this so-called investigation ends now."
"There are people watching," Ken argues. "They tuned in to get the information they want. Because they're curious about these woods and this campground, and what it is about them that causes these things to happen.”
“Nothing causes things like this to happen but the people who do them,” Officer Davis says. “That is the reality every time something happens. Call your friend and tell her to wrap up whatever nonsense she's doing so we can ask what she supposedly saw. I cannot believe you would come out here and be broadcasting this place live to other idiots."
He starts away from Ken, making his way toward the most accessible portion of rocks that will lead him back down to the makeshift path.
“So, you don't believe in the Arrow Lake curse?” Ken asks.
The officer stops and takes a breath, his shoulders lowering as if he's fighting to keep himself calm. He turns around.
"Turn off your camera. This is over," he says.
"No. My investigation is still going on. I came here for answers. A lot of people believe that there's a dark force at work around here. I feel it is my responsibility to dig deeper and find out the truth."
"There is no curse. It's a lake and very deep, very dark woods. Bad things happen. That's the end of it. Turn off your camera and call your friend."
"I'm not going to turn off the camera. I have permission to be here and the right to record," Ken says.
"I'm sure that's going to go over well," I mutter, adjusting my position on the couch as I watch the disaster on the screen just getting worse.
"Yeah, that wasn't the best," Sam says. "But he's right. He can record the officers. It just takes a bit of an ass to pull that card in this kind of situation."
Ken climbs down the rocks and takes out his radio to call Elsie. She doesn't answer.
"She probably turned her radio off. She does that sometimes when she's really into an investigation. The equipment can interfere and if there is any sound, it can contaminate the evidence," he tells the officers.
Officer Davis scoffs. "I'm getting really sick of this. My time is being wasted and my time is actually worth something. I need you to find her, pry her out of her little trance or whatever hocus pocus stupidity she's got going on, and tell her to give us a statement so we can leave."
"Straight to the point there," I say.
Sam hushes me, his eyes glued to the screen.
Just as they are getting to the spot where they've cut off the camera during each trek to and from the cavern so far, which feels like about thirty times at this point, the officers, Jeremy, and Ken encounter Vint. He's lingering at the side of the path, a single little ball of creamy yellow light at his feet from his flashlight.
"What is it?" he asks. "Who is it?"
"Hey," Ken says. "Have you talked to Elsie? I've been trying to get
