Page 48 of Here for a Good Time
“Maybe they turned the Wi-Fi back on? While we were out?” Antonio offers.
“Maybe,” I say. “But why gather everyone then? Why didn’t they repeat what they did at the other resort and just quietly hold one person at gunpoint to transfer the money? Why go through the trouble of rounding up every individual person? I don’t think it’s the same group.”
“Well—” Leila starts.
But I need them to hear the whole thing first.
“My second thought was ‘What if they wanted to rob theguestsat gunpoint?’ That makes sense. The people who can afford a place like this are people with money. But then that leads to the next plot hole.” I open a palm at myself, then at Zwe. “We’rethe only guests here. So either they didn’t know about the resort’s booking glitch and assumed it would be packed with multimillionaires, butthatalso doesn’t add up because a job this big, surely they’d have planned every detail beforehand,ortheydidknow about the glitch and that there were no guests currently here, but they still came anyway because the guests’ money isn’t what they’re after.
“Another thing—the only two ways onto this island are by water or air. We would’ve heard them if they came in a helicopter, but we didn’t, so it must’ve been a boat. There are security cameras on the pier. There are security guards patrolling the grounds.Unless they rowed in on a dingy little rowboat, someone should’ve seen them approaching. How did they get in undetected? Too! Many! Holes!”
I’m out of breath by the time I finish, and the three of them stare at me like I’ve entered full Mad Scientist Mode. Even Zwe, whohasseen me turn into this version of myself when I’m neck-deep in plotting and replotting a book, looks concerned, as though he’s worried I’m suffering heatstroke or tripped and hit my head on a very large rock while they were all asleep.
“So what,” Leila asks slowly, “arethey after?”
“That’s my question!” I say. My fingers curl with a shot of adrenaline and she rears back slightly. Upon realizing that I look like I’m about to strangle her, I give an apologetic grimace and place my hands down in my lap. “It’s too many inconsistencies. You know what the three biggest motivations in a plot are?” I’m on a roll now, but I’m buoyed by the fact that none of them have been able to tell me I’m wrong. My delivery might be unhinged, but the content stands up. “Money, power, and love. ‘Power’ makes no sense because it’s not like they want to take over running the place. So it’s either ‘money’—”
“Or love,” Zwe finishes. There’s a deep groove between his brows as he looks up, as he thinks, turns it over in his head. My favorite beta reader. Not a single plot hole that Zwe Aung Win has missed.
“Or love,” I echo.
“You figured all of this out on your laptop?” Antonio asks. For the first time since we met, he’s speechless.
“Like I said, I plotted.”
“This is all very impressive,” Leila starts. “And I don’t want to be dismissive of what you’re saying in any way whatsoever. But…I don’t really see what the point of all of this is. Our priority should still be how we get off of this island. And then we can pass on all of this information to the authorities. They can get in touch with the staff at Second Heaven and see if there are any overlaps between the two cases.”
“But don’t you think we’d have a better chance of escaping if we figured out why they’re here? Then we’d knowwhothey are and what they want, and that in turn would give us a better sense of how their minds work,” I counter, pushing past the feeling that I’m being dismissed. “Because if these people aren’t the same ones who robbed the other resort, then—” I swallow, chancing a glance at Antonio. “—we don’t know how dangerous they are, and what they’re capable of. Shouldn’t our new priority be to free everybody else? If this group isn’t after money, then that changes everything.”
“I… don’t know,” Leila muses. The three of them have the same unconvinced look. “It feels like we’re wasting time with every second we’re not moving.”
“Yeah, Mr. Zwe said yesterday that it’s a good sign that they’re taking care of everyone,” Antonio points out. “As long as they’re doing that, thenweshould focus on getting help. Besides, what if we make them mad by going back and trying to free everybody?”
“But we don’t know what the stakes are,” I press. It’s basic character development. Who is your protagonist? What do they want? What’s standing in the way of them getting what they want? What’ll happen if theydon’tget what they want?
“Stakes?” Leila asks.
“You need major stakes to propel an entire novel forward. And no one shows up armed and angry on a remote island unless there arebigstakes at play. What did they come for, and what’s going to happen if they don’t get it? If we figure that out, then worst-casescenario and we get recaptured, maybe we can come up with some sort of compromise so they still get what they want, and all of us, including the rest of the staff, get to go home.”
“What are you saying? That we go back to the people who kidnapped us and ask them, ‘What do you want’?” Leila’s tone is speckled with condescension, and she sounds like she’s holding back from laughing at me.
“Well, no,” I say, embarrassed because I didn’t really think through my next step quite yet. “But I just… something’s wrong.” I can’t help but motion back at my laptop. “The pieces aren’t fitting. We need to know more about who we’re dealing with here.”
Leila studies me, clearly gauging whether or not to say what she actually wants to say. In the end, she decides to say it. “Poe, this isn’t a novel.”
“I know this isn’t a novel.” This time, I don’t try to temper my irritation.
“Then we can’t treat this like it’s a novel.” I’m so startled by Zwe’s interruption that I turn around to make sure it was him that said it and that I didn’t just hallucinate his voice. “You can’t seriously be suggesting we go back to the resort right now. We’ll all get captured, too. We’re sticking with our original plan, which is to either call for help, or get off of this island somehow and go get help ourselves.”
“But I’m right. You know I’m right,” I stammer.
“I know this will all be really useful information for the police,” Leila replies, keeping her cool. “For now, though, Zwe’s right, we have to figure out how the hell we’re going to escape. I fucked up yesterday with the trail, and I’m so sorry about that.” Her voice goes wobbly, and Zwe puts a hand on her shoulder.
“You were under a lot of stress,” he says. Leila’s buried her facein her hands, and Zwe gives her shoulder a squeeze. “Between that and the adrenaline, anyone would’ve gotten confused, too. It was super dark. It’s okay, there’s daylight now, and we’re all rested and recharged. We’ll make it there today. We have to.”
I know I shouldn’t be making this all about me, but what Zwe’s doing right now feels like a twisting of the knife he stuck in my back just a few minutes ago. I get a condescendingThen we can’t treat this like a noveland she getsYou were under a lot of stress?
“I can try leading the way today,” Antonio suggests. “I know these woods pretty well, too.”
