Read Online Last Resort by Richard Dubois - Free Book Online Page B

does not look behind him as he leaves. As I trudge in the darkness back towards the restaurant, Gwen silently following me, I imagine this is what Orpheus would have felt like. I cannot help but remember the myth ends badly; as they leaves Hades, Orpheus suspects his wife is no longer behind him and turns to check. She still followed him, but for breaking the rule against looking back, ghostly hands drag her to the realm of the dead, separated from Orpheus forever.
    As my eyes adjust to the absence of light, I discern the shapes of the bungalows that line the beach. Tiny spots of light hover near the restaurant. Cigarette lighters. The people in the restaurant huddle around the small flames. I hear other guests emerging from their bungalow, stumbling in the darkness, and calling out in dismay over the power outage.
    We ascend the restaurant steps to find Jonas Dunlap returning from the kitchen with a bundle of tiki torches and a large flashlight. “This should shed some light on the situation,” he lights the torches and passes them amongst his staff to disperse around the restaurant. He tries to use the flashlight but it does not turn on.
    “That is odd,” Jonas empties and reinserts the batteries to no avail. “These batteries were not that old. Ah, well, now I know the meaning of the phrase when it rains, it pours .”
    Jonas whispers instructions to the head of his wait staff, and then speaks to all those gathered in the restaurant. “I apologize for the inconvenience and assure you our back-up generator will be on momentarily. During this short wait for the electricity to return, I recommend you take advantage of our gracious staff and expert bartenders. If anyone wishes to return to their bungalow one of the staff will guide you, however I recommend remaining here until the lights come back on.”
    “What the hell just happened?” Conner approaches the group with Alexandra and some other guests in tow. He wears the same dress shirt he wore earlier in the day, open to the waist, a white towel draped over his shoulders and his hair wet and slicked back. “I was in the middle of taking a shower and then it went black.”
    “I am afraid we have temporarily lost power,” Jonas explains in a soothing tone designed to keep everyone calm.
    “You’ve got bigger problems than that,” Conner asserts, his voice a little too loud. “There’s no water pressure.”
    Jonas arches a questioning brow.
    “Yeah, there’s no running water,” Conner says. “I couldn’t even finish my shower.”
    “He still has the conditioner in his hair,” Alexandra volunteers to Conner’s annoyance.
    One of the bartenders tests the faucet behind the bar. With a loud gurgle, water spurts out, but immediately dwindles to a trickle. With evident consternation, Jonas tents his fingers and touches them to his lips.
    “I don’t see how this could be,” he muses aloud to no one in particular. “Unless the water plant also lost power, in which case the outage would be island wide.”
    “I hope no one needs to use the loo,” one of the British guests gripes. Other guests mutter unhappily.
    “Any water plant would have a back-up generator,” Bill advises. “The water pressure should be back soon. Call into town—to your sheriff, or whoever your authorities are. Let them know we’ve lost power.”
    “Hmmm, yes,” Jonas agrees, his brows still wrinkled with concern. “In the meantime, let me check on our own generator. Please, everyone, order something from the bar while we make this inconvenience as brief as possible.”
    The calypso band switches to acoustic guitars and steel drums to play again. A few stalwart couples make light of the disruption to their otherwise lovely evening and resume dancing.
    Following his instructions, the staff encourages the throng of guests to take a seat at one of the tables so they can take our drink orders. Pamela and Bill beckon me to join them at their table. I begin to walk over to them and