Page 27 of Here for a Good Time
I nod.
“Promisepromise?”
I nod again. Like he’s backing away from a grizzly bear who’s promised not to lunge toward him, Zwe cautiously removes his hand.
My mouth is dry, and I have no feeling in my fingertips even though my hands are visibly shaking. In fact, I can’t really feel any of my limbs. “Maybe it’s the security staff shooting a wild bear that’s wandered into the resort?” I propose.
“I think the receptionist would’ve called us to let us know if that was the case. Instead—” He points at the landline on the table by his side of the bed. “The phone is dead. There’s no dial tone.”
“What do we do?” I whisper.
“We need to get help.” I’m about to reach over for my phone when Zwe adds, “The Wi-Fi is down. They must’ve cut that, too.”
“Fuck,” I exhale. I fight the urge to pull the covers over my head and go back to sleep with the belief that this will all turn outto be a misunderstanding by the time I’m awake again. “There’s no cell service anywhere. Someone must’ve called for help already, right? Every resort has security—theymust have satellite phones… right?”
My eyes have adjusted to the darkness, and I can see the groove between Zwe’s brows. Not one to lie, even to give me much-desired false hope, all he replies is “Hopefully.”
“What do you think they want?”
“I don’t know.”
“How did they get here?”
“I don’t—”
“Do you think they’ve gathered all of the resort staff? How many of them do you think there are?”
“Poe.” Zwe pinches the skin between his brows. “How would I know the answer to any of those questions? I have access to the same amount of information surrounding the situation as you do.”
I scoff. “Really? Attitude? Right now?”
“Why would you think I’d know what they want?”
I throw up my hands, straining to keep my voice within whisper territory. “Because you were awake before me! Maybe you heard something!”
“You think there were gunmen stationed outside our room conveniently laying out the whole plan for me to overhear?”
“Don’t be a dick,” I sneer. “I—”
Two more gunshots. Shots that are closer.
“Fuck,” I say, right as Zwe commands, “Get dressed.”
“What’s wrong with my pajamas?” I ask.
He pulls back the covers in one swoop and points at my matching plaid set. “You get cold easily as it is. That’s not going to keep you warm in the woods.”
“The w—” In a moment of distraction, I raise my voice, and Zwe’s palm swiftly slaps my lips. “Ow!” I mumble.
“We have to go to the woods,” he says, leaning in and dropping his voice as though demonstrating to a kindergartener the importance of using our Inside Voices.
“Why”—I push his hand away—“do we have to go to the woods?”
“Because we need to find a way to reach the authorities. And remember what Leila said?” I try to remember through my brain fog, but Zwe answers his own question. “She said her family lives in the mountains. Which must mean there’s at least a village there, andtheymust have a way to communicate with the mainland. We also can’t just hide here like sitting ducks. Whoever these people are, I’m sure they’re already starting to make their way around the resort, and it’s only a matter of time until they reach us. So before they do, we leave, make our way to the village, we ask for help, and we shelter in place there until the help arrives. Now let’s get dressed.”
“How have you already planned out all of this?” I ask.
“Remember that small business security course I took a few years back?”
