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.