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“Well, it seems you’re all seeing a ghost, right? The ghost of car accidents past? It’s been a weird night. Anything could happen on a night like this.”

“I’m hallucinating,” Raymond mumbles. “I hit my head in the accident, and this is all some fucked-up dream.”

“How about you, Ray? Any ghosts in your past? Maybe someone you got killed?”

Raymond snaps to life. “What did you say?”

Henry stalks to the bar. “What bullshit—”

“No bullshit. Just life. People die. Sometimes, other people are responsible.”

“Responsible?” Noemi says, pulling from Caleb. “Caleb was not responsible for this man’s death. Caleb didn’t have a stop sign. He was driving at the speed limit. This … this person roared through and hit us. Us. Are you claiming something else happened?”

“Nope. I am not. It was just one of life’s little…” The bartender slaps a hand to his chest. “Tragedies.”

I glare at him, but he only grins my way and winks. I turn on my heel and walk to the newcomer, who’s muttering to himself. “How did you get here?”

His head snaps up. “I told you. I was in an accident.”

“What accident?”

“I told you that, too. I missed a stop sign.”

“Tonight. Just now.” I wave at the bar. “Then how did you get here? You said you ended up in the forest. But your accident happened in a residential neighborhood.”

“There must have been a forest nearby. I forgot to fasten my seat belt, like the girl said. I flew out the windshield, and I must have ended up in a forest.” He looks around at us. “I don’t know what’s going on here, but I am not staying.”

He marches to the front door. Noemi makes a little noise, as if she wants to stop him. But no one moves. The man yanks on the door. It doesn’t budge.

“Let him go,” I say to the bartender.

The bartender’s eyebrows shoot up. “Into the forest? With the monsters?”

The man spins and strides to the back door. Still no one moves to stop him, and we soon hear him yanking on that door, too.

“What’s going on?” Raymond says.

The bartender sighs. “You keep asking that. Over and over. All of you. What’s going on? What’s going on? What’s going on?” He nods at me. “I offered Ellie answers, but she wanted to go home. How’d that work out, El?”

Rage boils inside me. Raymond strides to the bar. “What’s happening with you two? Why does she keep addressing her questions to you?”

“Because she likes me?” the bartender says. “She is cute. A little old for my tastes, but I could go for it.”

Henry rocks his way, and the bartender chortles, backing up with his hands raised in mock surrender. “Kidding, big guy. I won’t get in your way. But maybe you should tell her to stop giving me the eye.”

The newcomer marches back into the room. “What’s going on here?”

“Holy fuck!” The bartender sags. “Do you people know any other lines?”

The man stalks toward him. “You’ve locked me in.”

“Haven’t.”

“The doors are locked.”

“Aren’t.”

The man reaches as if to grab at the bartender, who only backs up.