Dead Air, Michelle Schusterman [mobile ebook reader .TXT] 📗

“Thirteen Xs!” Mi Jin said. “You did it, right? Like what you did to Lidia’s EMF meter yesterday? But how—”

“What did you do to her EMF?” I interrupted, picturing the gadget Lidia had pulled out of her purse yesterday when she was searching for granola bars.

Oscar shrugged. “Messed with the calibration a little so that it went nuts when we first got to the theater.”

“But how’d you get those Xs on the camera?” Mi Jin pressed, and Oscar grinned.

“It’s a secret.”

Mi Jin laughed. “Well, good one,” she said with a wink, then hurried back over to the others.

I stared at Oscar. If he knew enough about electronics to sabotage Lidia’s EMF, maybe he really had somehow gotten that message to print out. “Did you type up that thing about the medium?” I blurted out.

Oscar blinked. “The what?”

“The message,” I said impatiently. “The one that printed out yesterday when you were hiding in the projection room with that stupid mask. Keep her away from the medium. You did it, right?”

“Hang on there, crazy,” Oscar retorted. “I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

I scowled. “So you messed with Lidia’s EMF and Jess’s camera, but not with the laptop up in the projection room?”

He opened his mouth but hesitated, glancing back at the camera. I crossed my arms impatiently. He really didn’t seem to know anything about the medium message. And I was positive he looked confused when Mi Jin first suggested he’d tampered with the camera. Maybe he really had nothing to do with either. Maybe they were both just glitches.

Or maybe Oscar was an amazingly good liar.

Oscar was still staring at the camera. Jess handed it over to Mi Jin, then joined Lidia and the others to go over the next take. Mi Jin turned away from them, studying the viewfinder closely. Then she glanced over at Oscar and me.

“Just tell me how you did it!” she called. “Please?”

Oscar looked pleased. “Didn’t you say you majored in electrical engineering? You figure it out!”

Laughing, Mi Jin turned her attention back to the viewfinder. “Touché.”

I stared at Oscar for a second, then grinned. “Oh. I get it.”

“Get what?”

“Why you lied about the camera,” I said lightly. “You didn’t do it, but you want Mi Jin to think you did. I know she’s impressed and all, but she’s a little old for you, don’t you think?”

I waited for a defensive comeback, a blush, anything. For a few seconds, Oscar just gazed at me. Then he started cracking up.

“You’re right,” he said. “You’re totally right. I don’t have a chance.” He let out an exaggerated sigh. “Thank you for helping me see the light.”

His sarcasm was infuriating. Not to mention his complete lack of shame. “Seriously, she’s like . . . twenty-two.”

Oscar nodded solemnly. “Yeah. You’re right. I’m completely delusional.”

“Apparently.” I turned away, watching as Dad, Roland, and Sam began strolling down the boardwalk toward the theater. Jess kept pace at their side, camera steady on her shoulder. Mi Jin and Lidia trailed not far behind her. I set off after them without another word to Oscar.

His stupid crush on Mi Jin aside, it was pretty strange that both the crew’s camera and laptop had briefly malfunctioned. The laptop glitch came with a message. Mi Jin had said the camera glitch wasn’t an error code—maybe it was a message, too. Sam said he sensed a presence, but not Red Leer . . . was it the show’s ghost? The one so many fans seemed to think was behind the host curse and all the equipment glitches? I remembered the way Sam had stared at me a few minutes ago when the camera freaked out, and had a mental image of a ghost floating at my side.

Suddenly, I felt ridiculous. One day with a bunch of ghost hunters and I was already buying into the whole paranormal activity thing. Still . . .

When Jess called “Cut!” and started talking to Dad and the other guys, I hurried over to Mi Jin.

“Do you have a pen or anything?”

“Sure!” She dug a pencil out of the camera bag and handed it to me.

“Thanks.” I turned away, quickly jotting down the second message under the first.

KEEP HER AWAY FROM THE MEDIUM

13 Xs

“What’s that?” Mi Jin asked curiously, and I folded the paper and shoved it back into my pocket.

“Nothing important.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

TEA PARTY OF THE DAMNED

P2P WIKI

Entry: “Dead Air”

[Last edited by Maytrix]

“Dead air” refers to the approximately ninety seconds of dead air during the pilot episode of Passport to Paranormal, which took place at the Limerick Bed & Breakfast on the northern coast of Oregon. The disturbance occurred during the last ten minutes of airtime. Viewers suddenly lost audio and video during a scene showing the crew walking from the B&B to the nearby lighthouse. No one, including Fright TV, could explain the dead air. The episode resumed to show the crew back at the B&B, leading many fans to believe the missing footage took place in the lighthouse.

To date, the crew refuses to discuss what happened in the lighthouse, nor will they share the footage. When asked for a possible explanation of the dead air, P2P creator and producer Lidia Bettencourt commented: “I guess it’s just part of being the most haunted show on television.” The phrase immediately became the show’s unofficial slogan, an idea supported by the crew’s frequent tech glitches and apparent inability to keep a host (for more, see: The Host Curse).

My post-dinner nap attempt was a success—a solid hour of blissful unconsciousness. I rolled over and stared at the clock: 8:31 p.m. Yeah, there was no way I was going to sleep normally tonight.

Both Dad and his laptop were gone, but he’d left one of his key cards behind. I vaguely remembered Jess saying something at dinner about a meeting that night in the hotel’s conference room. Slipping on a pair of shoes, I grabbed Dad’s key to the room the crew was using to store equipment. Maybe there was an extra laptop in there I could use.

A minute