“Thank God for Tivo, right?” I joked, placing the bowls gently down on her bed and curling up next to her.
Sarah sent me a dirty look and got up to turn off the lights. “Don’t even start with me, Mackenzie Anne Galloway. I’ve been waiting for three minutes!”
“We were there for this investigation, remember?” I reminded her. “We already know everything that’s going to be on the episode—probably more.”
“Yes, well, some people don’t have a photographic memory like you,” Sarah sniffed good-naturedly. “And I, for one, would like to see how Zak narrates this.”
She played the video and Zak’s face flashed up onto the screen. He looked exactly how I remembered him: spiked, jet black (and probably dyed) hair tucked beneath a bowl baseball cap, slightly crooked teeth, and intensity and excitement shining in his dark blue eyes. This clip was in full blown, green-tinted night vision, and he was frozen, one finger up, eyes staring somewhere off to the right like he was listening for something.
“Get out,” came a whispered voice, and Zak immediately reacted, gasping and recoiling. Sarah giggled.
The scene flashed to a group of people gathered around Zak as he held up a small digital recorder.
“Did you hear—wait, did you hear that?” he demanded, cutting through the quiet chatter they were making.
Again the scene cut and, shockingly, Sarah and I were on screen. Sarah paused the show and grabbed my arm, shrieking loudly into a pillow. I rolled my eyes and grabbed the remote from her, playing the episode again.
“Sarah,” I’d whispered. In the present I winced; my voice sounded weird on television. “What was that?”
A scream was ripped from the both of us and the scene cut off right before we jumped around again, to the GAC’s official opening.
“My name is Zak Bagans. I never believed in ghosts until I came face to face with one.”