Page 28 of Off Plan

“Well!”

“Well,what? The only terrible thing I’ve done to you is bring you to this godforsaken island, and that’s because you fucking insisted. Did it ever occur to you that you’re pissed off about the wrong things?”

WasI?

I gaped at him for a minute, but when he swept a hand outside in a short, impatient motion, I stepped through.

Fenn followed, letting the door slam behind him, and then he stalked ahead of me through a tiny backyard of baked dirt, rocks, and empty flowerbeds. I could hear waves crashing somewhere on the other side of the fence, and I got excited when Fenn started fumbling with the back gate, thinking I was about to actually stand on the beach, but when he opened it, there was no water view, only a massive metal door set in the side of a miniature mountain. It was unreasonably disappointing, even after all the other disappointments of the day.

“What,” I demanded, “isthat?”

Fenn pushed open the door with a flick of his wrist. “Thisis an office.”

Of course it was. The world’s darkest, chilliest, most cave-like officebunker.

Did I mention it wasdark?

Fenn held the door open for me, and I hesitated, my heart pounding in my ears and my palms gone clammy. I tried to make myself take a step forward, but I couldn’t.

I was such an idiot sometimes. Maybe more thansometimes.

“Loafers.” He sounded disgusted. “For the lastfuckingtime, I am not a serial killer. I’m not going to harm you. My pure, white aura won’t allow it.”

“I know!” I said, sounding slightly panicked. I took a deep breath. “I know, Fenn.”

“Then?”

“Then… nothing.” I licked my lips, my eyes scanning the darkness inside. I couldn’t make out a single shape, and there certainly wasn’t another exit. “You go first.”

“Why? Are you gonna try to lock me in?” He braced his hands on his hips and tried to stare me down. “Because all that would do is piss me off.”

“No!” I said, horrified. “Of course not. I would literallyneverdo that. I just… would prefer that you go first.”

“AndIwould prefer you stopped acting like you were the second coming of Jesus and the rest of us had to do your bidding because the world doesn’tactuallyrevolve aroundyou, Loafers. But we can’t always get what we prefer, can we?”

“I just… I don’t enjoy dark, enclosed spaces, okay?” I shot back, keeping my eyes trained on the side of the doorframe. “Is that alright with you?”

Fenn frowned. “Really?”

“Yes, really. It’s a perfectly common… concern.”

“You mean phobia.”

“I meanconcern. A phobia is an irrational fear, and I am notirrationallyafraid.”

In my opinion, it was very,veryrational to not wish to be trapped below the earth.God.

“Ah.” Fenn stepped inside the bunker and flipped on a light switch. “Better?”

I nodded once. “Marginally, yes.” I hesitated, then added, “Thank you,” before stepping in after him.

I can’t say what I’d been expecting to see. Walls lined with canned goods, probably? Possibly a Dharma Initiative symbol? I definitely didn’t expect to see a windowless room laid out like Lord Grantham’s library at Downton, complete with Oriental rugs, leather furniture, glass display cases, a huge mahogany conference table, an oversized captain’s desk, and dark green walls. The space was larger than the living room in the main house and twice as well appointed.

It was alsocovered, floor to ceiling, in maps and ancient tide charts, diagrams of boats and two-columned lists, bright yellow sticky notes and dull yellow newspaper clippings. The entire back wall was a bank of file cabinets and displays.

Fenn leaned against the giant table pretending to be relaxed while I studied the papers.

“June 25, 1803. Shipped by the Grace of God, in good Order by Willam Himmelhurst upon the ship called The Esmerelda, whereof is Captain under God for the present voyage Jacob Godfrey, and now riding anchor in the harbor at St. George’s Caye and by God’s grace bound for New York, were one thousand pieces gold, six barrels pork, forty-seven barrels rum…”