A broken leg, a tent on a mountain pass, six nights. By day your friends go out for supplies. At night they walk back to your GPS signal. And something knocks at the entrance. It speaks in their voices and looks exactly like them. Open up or not.
Iceland, October 1989. For seven nights you keep the light on a remote lighthouse. Out in the fog stands EPIBDA, a thing 120 metres tall. It moves only when no one is looking. Keep the beam on it, guide the ships past the reef, and don't let the lamp run dry.
