Psyc 03_The Call of the Mild (27 page)

Across the camp, a bell rang. Bron Helstrom was summoning them to the table. The smell of charbroiled steaks hit them right after the clang of the bell.

“I think that concludes the conversation part of this evening’s entertainment,” Shawn said. “It’s time for food.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

“O
f course,” Shawn said once he and Gus were back in their tent, safely nestled among the down pillows and feather beds, “when you’re with a bunch of lawyers, the conversation portion of the entertainment is never truly over.”

Gus couldn’t argue with that—except maybe over the part about entertainment. He hadn’t found anything amusing about the conversation that had taken place at the dinner table. Well, maybe the beginning, when the lawyers were so intent on cramming as much food as possible into their mouths that their cogent legal arguments, witty retorts, and dire personal insults were all reduced to a mess of indecipherable consonants and the occasional projectile of beef lingually launched across the table.

But once the appetites had been partially sated and etiquette had been restored to the group, the conversation quickly spiraled down into paranoid accusations and angry threats.

For the most part, Shawn and Gus stayed out of the table talk. For one thing, this meal, although much more quickly put together than last night’s, was even better than the one from the night before. Neither of them felt compelled to use their mouths for anything less pleasurable than eating.

And of course Shawn and Gus didn’t have to contribute to a discussion of who would hold on to the map. They would, and there didn’t seem to be any compelling reason to change that situation.

Even now that everyone had retired to their tents, Shawn and Gus could still hear isolated pockets of bickering coming from across the camp as a killer argument occurred to one of the lawyers just before they all fell asleep.

Gus waited until several minutes had passed since the last triumphant exclamation, and then he whispered to Shawn, “So what is our plan?”

“Sleep,” Shawn muttered.

“Yes, we’ll go to sleep in a minute,” Gus said. He was exhausted, too, but he knew he’d spend a much more pleasant night if he had an idea what to expect in the morning. “But first, what’s our plan?”

“Sleep is our plan,” Shawn said.

“How can sleep be a plan?” Gus said.

“It can’t, if you keep talking,” Shawn said, pulling his pillow around his ears. Within seconds he’d started to snore.

Gus lay awake trying to work out options for the next day. But even before he could form bullet points in his head, he was snoring, too.

When he woke up, the sun was streaming through the light nylon of the tent. And he discovered that Shawn’s plan was not bad at all. He felt infinitely better than he had the night before. He rolled over to see that Shawn was already up and dressed.

“I can’t believe I’ve been using a regular bedroom,” he said, pulling on his shoes. “A tent in the mountains is so much better. In fact, I’m going to have one installed in my own place as soon as we get back home.”

Gus felt all his good feelings swirling away. It took him a moment to figure out why. And then it hit him. It was that last phrase: as soon as we get back home.

“That brings up an important question,” he said. “About the whole ‘as soon as we get back home’ thing. And that is: how?”

“Well, once we’re off the mountain, it shouldn’t be a problem at all,” Shawn said. “We left your car at Rushton’s office, but I’m sure we can get someone to give us a ride over there. Worst-case scenario, we can get a cab from the police station, if Lassiter won’t arrange for a squad car to drive us. Do I smell pancakes?”

Shawn started out of the tent, but Gus jumped up and grabbed his arm. “Once we’re off the mountain?”

“I don’t think we can get Lassiter to send a squad car all the way up here,” Shawn said. “Yes, he owes us for all the cases we’ve solved, but I don’t think he’ll be willing to spring for the extra mileage.”

“Maybe I didn’t phrase my question precisely enough,” Gus said. “When I asked how we were going to get home, I meant how we were going to get home from here. Which would include the sub-question of exactly how we were going to get down from this mountain.”

“The way I see it, we have two choices,” Shawn said. “We can set out on a hard, grueling trek through the blasted wasteland, facing the constant threat of thirst, hunger, bears, or desperate villains protecting their illegal marijuana fields.”

“You mean hike down,” Gus said.

“Or we can stay here and gain weight,” Shawn said. “I’ll go whichever way you want. We can think about it over bacon.”

Gus had known Shawn long enough to realize that if he didn’t feel like explaining, nothing was going to make him do so, not even the hundreds of lightning strikes Gus was wishing down on him from the heavens. He followed Shawn out of the tent and to the table and allowed one of the waiters—it was either Coty or Bismarck; Cody was off juicing oranges, and waitress Miranda was nowhere to be seen—to slide a plate of fried eggs, bacon, and hash browns in front of him. There was a small bowl of ketchup in the center of the table, but as much as Gus usually liked to put the stuff on his potatoes, somehow he couldn’t bring himself to do so today.

As they ate, the table began to fill up. Gwendolyn was first to arrive, and Bismarck or Coty presented her with a plate. A few moments later, a smiling Balowsky took a chair, and almost immediately was presented with a brimming mug of coffee by Miranda, who seemed to have materialized out of nowhere.

“It is a grand morning, isn’t it?” Balowsky boomed cheerily. “I feel like I’ve been sleeping on a cloud.”

“Is that what you call it?” Gwendolyn said. “I’ve never seen one up close, but I always assumed a cloud would be a little less bony.”

“Pierced to the heart,” Balowsky said, clutching at an imaginary arrow through the organ. “Your great wit has claimed another victim. Just like my great—”

“Hi, everybody,” Jade said as she came shyly up to the table. “I hope everyone slept well.”

“If we didn’t, it’s only because we found something more relaxing to do,” Balowsky said.

To Gus’ surprise, Jade seemed to be blushing as she took her seat. She stared down at the tablecloth, apparently trying to hide a smile.

“Funny,” Gwendolyn said. “I wouldn’t have thought you had all that peaceful a night.”

“Really?” Jade was staring at the table even harder now. “What would make you say something like that?”

“I thought you were having a nightmare.”

“You weren’t there,” Jade said. “You were sleeping outside.”

“Under the stars, that’s true,” Gwendolyn said. “But I walked past our tent when I got up to use the bathroom in the night, and I could have sworn it was rocking.”

“Must have been the wind,” Jade mumbled as Savage strode up to the table, the grin on his face a double of Balowsky’s.

“Wind is the word for it,” Gwendolyn said. “And now that we’ve all answered the call of the wild, maybe we can start to talk about how we’re going to get the hell out of here.”

Shawn pushed his plate away and stood. “I’m glad you brought that up,” he said. “I’ve got a plan.”

“How nice for you,” Gwendolyn said, then turned back to the lawyers. “We need to formulate a strategy, and then—”

Shawn lifted his empty plate and dropped it on the table with a crash. “As I was saying,” he said, once all the lawyers had turned in his direction, “I have a plan. More important, I also have the map. So unless your strategy includes growing wings and flying off this mountain, you might want to pay attention.”

“Actually,” Gus said, “even if they did grow wings, the map would still come in handy.”

“My partner makes an excellent point,” Shawn said. “Although if you were going to grow wings, you might get a homing sense, too.”

“We’ll listen to your plan,” Balowsky said. “Just as long as we don’t have to listen to any more of this drivel.”

“I can live with that,” Shawn said, then turned towards the stove, where Helstrom was gathered with his waitstaff. “You need to hear this, too. You’re stuck here with the rest of us.”

Helstrom came over and stood at the head of the table. Cody, Coty, and Bismarck joined him. Miranda went over to where Balowsky was sitting and leaned against him. He slipped an arm around her thighs.

“As you may have noticed, we have been stranded on top of this mountain,” Shawn said. “It seems to me we have two choices. We can send an expedition to get the hatch open, or we can take our chances with the Others. But I’m still concerned about the polar bear and the cloud monster. Plus, what are we going to do when Claire’s baby is due? I don’t know nothing about birthing no babies.”

“What hatch?” Gwendolyn said.

“What Others?” Balowsky said.

“None of this makes any sense at all,” Jade said. “It’s like you’re taking concepts at random and jamming them together, hoping your audience will do the work of making sense of them.”

“You know, that’s exactly what I yell at the TV every week,” Shawn said.

Gus could see that the lawyers were getting restless. Jade was staring deeply into Savage’s eyes, while Balowsky was practicing his Rolfing techniques on the small of Miranda’s back. Gwendolyn was absently playing with the spreader she’d taken from the butter dish as if planning how she could sharpen it into a shiv.

Gus stood up next to Shawn. “Please, we need your attention for just a few minutes. Shawn—focus.”

Shawn fluttered his eyes, then reared back as if he’d been slapped. “Sorry, apparently the spirit of the mountain stepped out and left the spirit of the island in his place,” Shawn said. “And that spirit just says anything that will keep the story going on for another week, no matter how little sense it makes. The spirit of the mountain, on the other hand, is extremely specific about what needs to be done.”

“Like you sitting down and shutting up?” Gwendolyn said.

“You know, it’s funny,” Shawn said. “As I look around this table, everyone here seems to have made a new friend except you. Why do you think that is?”

Gwendolyn fingered the spreader as if calculating the exact speed and trajectory she’d need to propel it so that it would lodge in Shawn’s trachea.

“As I was saying,” Shawn said. “We are stuck up here and we need to formulate a plan.”

“Why don’t we just walk down the mountain?” Savage said. “That’s what we all signed up for.”

“Not all of us,” Helstrom said.

“I say we wait,” Balowsky said. “Rushton may be an evil old bastard, but I don’t believe he’s insane. If we don’t show up on time, he’ll send choppers up to look for us.”

“Quite possibly,” Shawn said. “And I know that I’m eager to risk my life on a gamble that the man who hired a troupe of actors-slash-waiters to play terrorist and kidnap us all isn’t insane.”

“And one actor-slash-chef,” Helstrom said. “We’re not all waiters here.”

“That’s a good point,” Shawn said. “And it’s good to have a chef with us as long as we’re stuck up here. It will be especially useful when our food runs out and we have to start eating each other. Bron will be able to cook us up in ways so that we all taste like chicken.”

“Chicken is one of my specialties,” Helstrom said.

“Good to know,” Gus said. “Say, Chef, how many days’ worth of food do we have up here?”

Helstrom did a quick count of the people sitting and standing around the table. “Let’s see, there are eleven of us,” he said. “We might be able to stretch it out through tomorrow night’s dinner, as long as we don’t eat a big lunch.”

Something was wrong in those calculations. Gus knew it, but he couldn’t put a finger on the problem. And Shawn was moving on.

“Plus we’ve got the freeze-dried food in our packs, which should be enough for each of us for six days,” Shawn said. “As long as we don’t mind watching Bron and his staff starve to death while we feast.”

“We can pool our resources,” Savage said. “We’re expected in four days. If we’re not in by then, they’ll have choppers up the next day.”

“Except that Rushton gave us all extra rations in case we wanted to take a little extra time to enjoy the scenery,” Gus said. “Does that really sound like your boss to you?”

It didn’t—not to anyone at the table.

“I knew he was up to something,” Balowsky said. “But even I never dreamed it would be this diabolical.”

Gwendolyn jammed the blade of the spreader into the table. “That bastard,” she said. “He knew it was going to take at least six days to get down the mountain.”

“Probably seven,” Shawn said. “Six with full food, and one last day on empty, just to put the fear into you all.”

“I can gather seeds and nuts,” Savage said.

“Apparently,” Gwendolyn said with a glance at Jade. “You’re already halfway there.”

“We’ve got to get word down,” Shawn said. “Then they can send up the rescue team.”

Savage nearly jumped out of his seat. “One of us needs to hike down to summon help,” he said. “I’ll volunteer.”

“And then you can have a good laugh on us with Rushton when you get there,” Gwendolyn said. “For all we know, you’re the one who had the safe word.”

“I’m thinking of a word now,” Savage said. “But it’s not a particularly safe one.”

“Two people have to go,” Gus said.

“How about Jade?” Savage said. She blushed furiously.

“Because we know she won’t do absolutely anything you ask her to do,” Gwendolyn said.

“There were some things . . .” Savage said.

Jade blushed even more deeply. “It was our first date.”

“The second can wait,” Balowsky said. “Sending the two of them would be worse than letting him go alone. At least he wouldn’t be stopping every five minutes for some quality time.”