The Consultant (15 page)

TWELVE  

In the morning, when Craig awoke, his bowels were full to bursting and he desperately had to go to the bathroom. He didn’t want to do it here, just a few feet away from Elaine’s bed, where the entire process could be heard—and smelled—so he tried to hold it until she got up and went out for breakfast. She was a late sleeper, though, and the pressure was building, and finally he was forced to give in. Trying not to awaken her, he picked up the jeans he’d been wearing yesterday, took a clean shirt out of his still-open suitcase and crept around the foot of her bed, opening and closing the bathroom door as quietly as he could. He turned the shower on, hoping the noise of the water would cover him, then sat down on the toilet and did his business quickly. Taking off his pajamas and hopping into the stall immediately afterward, he cried out at the shocking coldness of the spray. There was no way he could survive a shower this freezing, and he turned off the water immediately and patted himself dry with the bathroom’s lone towel, still damp from Elaine’s shower the night before.  

He’d forgotten to bring his razor and comb into the bathroom, and, after dressing, when he opened the door to get them, Elaine was awake. “Are you through in there?” she asked. “I need to change.”  

Acutely conscious of the smell, Craig closed the door behind him. “Almost,” he said. He hurried over to grab his bag of toiletries, and after shaving and combing his hair, liberally sprinkled his aftershave in the corners of the small room to cover up the stench.  

“All yours,” he said, coming out.  

Breakfast was made not by Robards’ wife but by three division heads, who had been assigned to cook and serve oatmeal and orange juice. Phil was going to be one of two people on cleanup duty. Craig’s assigned chore was to help prepare lunch. There wasn’t a lot of conversation as they ate, though whether it was because people were sleepy and grumpy or whether it was because they had nothing to say to one another, he could not tell. He, Phil and Elaine kept their conversation to a minimum as well, pressured into silence by those around them. There’d been little or no shoptalk on this retreat, Craig reflected, and that was surprising to him. At the very least, the weekend would seem to offer the opportunity for everyone to discuss practical work matters in a pleasant setting and in a leisurely manner.  

While Phil helped clear tables, Craig went into the kitchen with Jenny Yee from Accounting and Alex Mendoza from Promotions. Waiting for them, on the opposite side of the room from the sink and dishwasher where bowls, glasses and utensils were being carefully stacked, was the stooped and wrinkled old lady who’d cooked and served their dinner last night.  

Robards’ wife.  

This close to the patch-eyed woman, the pairing of the two seemed even more odd and impossible. She was old enough to be his grandmother, and her voice when she spoke was a mannish croak. “I’m going to teach you how to make a sandwich,” she said. “If you listen, you’ll learn something. If not, the Lord will damn you to hell.” She let out a cracked glass chuckle, though whether because that was a joke or because she found it amusing to think of them burning in hell, Craig could not tell.  

The old lady’s instructions were exceedingly easy and the resulting sandwich extremely unappetizing, but she made them repeat the steps in unison over and over again before allowing them to try and make sample sandwiches of their own. Grimacing, Craig placed a slice of white bread on a plate, put a thin slice of head cheese on the bread, spread a knifeful of liverwurst on the head cheese, then placed another slice of white bread on top before slicing the sandwich in half.  

There was no way Craig was going to eat that sandwich, but luckily it was to be accompanied by a snack-sized bag of potato chips. Since he was going to be one of the people preparing the lunches, he could probably snag himself an extra bag or two. Not much of a meal, but definitely better than that god-awful sandwich.  

Their work was inspected by Edna, who informed them that she might not be here at lunchtime and they could be on their own— which was why she was drilling the instructions into their heads.  

“Don’t think I won’t hear about it if you make them wrong,” she warned. “And if you do, the Lord will damn you to hell.” This time, she didn’t laugh, but grunted and hobbled away, leaving them to walk, bewildered, back to the dining room.  

Everyone else was already outside, gathered in the open area between the lodge and the fire pit. Robards was laying out the day’s schedule.  

“Today,” he announced, “we’re going on a wilderness expedition. It’s a character-building exercise that requires trust and cooperation. Together we will explore the local terrain while engaging in goal-oriented tasks that, believe it or not, will improve your interpersonal skills back at your office and will help you immeasurably in your everyday life.”  

Craig had sidled next to Phil. “Yeah, right,” his friend muttered.  

“You will be divided into the same groups as yesterday. Each group will be out for approximately four hours. I will take Group Two in the morning, and Group One in the afternoon. Those remaining behind will participate in a scavenger hunt. Afterward, each of you will be required to write a story incorporating the items you’ve scavenged.”  

A chorus of groans and complaints greeted the news.  

“I’m not going to do it,” Jack Razon announced.  

“That is a decision you will have to make for yourself,” Robards said, and from his tone of voice Craig understood that there would probably be repercussions for those who did not participate, particularly once the news had been reported back to Patoff.  

“I’m going to write a story about fucking his wife’s ass with the objects I find,” Phil whispered, and Craig could not help laughing. “Wait ’til he reads the pinecone scene.”  

“The scavenger hunt will be overseen by Mr. Matthews, who has agreed to help out today. He won’t be going on the hike or participating in the scavenger hunt himself, but I’ve trained him to conduct the session, and since this retreat is his baby in the first place, he knows what he wants from you.”  

The CEO nodded, although he did not look as though he was enjoying this.  

What do you think of the decision to hire consultants?
 

Craig was feeling cautiously optimistic.  

Robards clapped his hands. “It’s getting late and we’d better get going. Group One, follow Mr. Matthews back to the lodge to obtain your list of scavenger items. Group Two, get yourselves some canteens or water bottles and meet me back here in five. Move out!”  

It was closer to fifteen minutes than five by the time everyone had procured enough water for the hike and Robards had checked to make sure they were all wearing appropriate footwear. He had strapped on a backpack, and they followed him up a dirt path that led up a gently sloping hill between tall pine trees and spreading manzanita bushes. The ground gradually flattened out, the trees grew thicker and more varied, and the trail disappeared under an encroaching blanket of dead leaves.  

An hour later, they stopped under a sycamore to rest for a few moments and drink from their canteens and water bottles before continuing on. Moments later, Robards stopped again. “Here’s where we leave the trail,” he announced. “Follow me.”  

He led them around an outcropping of lichen-covered rock and through a closely growing copse of bushes. “Watch out for stickers,” he said. “Those branches have thorns.”  

“Where are we going?” Elaine asked.  

“We’re looking for spoor and scat. I’m going to teach you how to locate an animal in the wild.”  

“What exactly
is
spoor?” Phil asked.  

“Tracks,” Robards answered simply.  

“I can guess what scat is.”  

“Droppings,” Robards responded.  

“I was going to say shit, but same difference.”  

“Keep your eyes open,” Robards said. “And trained on the ground. Do any of you see anything?”  

Parvesh Patel, who had wandered a bit off to the right, pointed. “That looks like dog poop,” he said.  

Robards walked over, motioning for everyone else to follow him. “It is, indeed.”  

“Do you think it’s a wolf?” asked Jenny Yee, nervously looking around.  

Robards touched his finger to the excrement and sniffed it. Craig looked immediately away, willing himself not to gag. Purposefully staring into the trees and focusing only on that, he heard someone making aborted retching sounds. Next to him, Phil chain spit, as though trying to get a terrible taste out of his mouth.  

“Not wolf,” Robards announced. “Dog.”  

Still not brave enough to look back, Craig heard Elaine utter a phlegmy groan of disgust. She was the one who’d almost vomited.  

“Anybody see tracks?” Robards asked.  

“There?” Parvesh said uncertainly.  

“No. There,” Robards said, and Craig finally turned around to see him pointing off to the left.
Was he pointing with the same finger he’d…?
 

Craig spit, the accumulating saliva in his mouth suddenly making him feel like throwing up.  

Where had he wiped off that finger? On his pants?
 

He forced himself to derail that train of thought and concentrated on the dog tracks. Although he couldn’t really see them, he believed they were there, and he and the others followed Robards deeper into the woods for at least another half mile, zigzagging this way and that, steered by bent branches and disturbed leaves, until the guide stopped them with a raised hand. “There it is,” Robards whispered, pointing ahead.  

They were on a flat stretch of ground, and the dog, a Labrador obviously
very
far from home, was sniffing in the underbrush. The animal turned to look at them, panting happily, its tail wagging.  

Robards withdrew a handgun from an easily accessible pouch on the side of his backpack. “Who wants to take it down?” he asked.  

Craig looked around in horror at his fellow employees. They all seemed equally shocked by the suggestion, save for Parvesh who stepped forward, hand extended. “I’ll do it.”  

“Asshole,” Phil said angrily.  

“No, that’s good.” Robards smiled at Parvesh, handing him the gun, butt first. “I’m proud of you.”  

“What do I do?”  

“This is a valuable lesson.” He looked around. “For all of you.” He put a hand on Parvesh’s shoulder. “Move forward slowly. Keep the weapon in your right hand behind your back, and keep your left hand outstretched to show you’re friendly. It’ll approach you, lower its head to be petted, and when it does, place the gun next to its head, pull the trigger and blow its brains out.”  

“No!” Elaine protested.  

“Shut the hell up.” Robards fixed her with a glare so menacing she backed up, lapsing into silence. “That’s going in my report,” he told her.  

What report?
Craig wondered.  

“That’s not a wild animal,” Phil said, coming to her defense. “That’s obviously someone’s pet. It even has a collar.”  

“Out here, it’s prey,” Robards responded, and his tone was as hard-edged as a scalpel. Craig suddenly wondered if BFG conducted any background checks on its contract employees. It did not require much of a leap to imagine Robards serving time in prison for a violent crime.  

Everyone was silent.  

“Move toward it,” Robards instructed Parvesh. “Slowly… slowly…”  

The division head approached the Labrador, left hand extended. Happily, tail still wagging, the dog hurried forward, padding across the open ground.  

“Take it out,” Robards coached.  

Parvesh patted the Labrador’s head.  

“Do it.”  

The blast was so loud and sudden that it hurt Craig’s ears, piercing into his brain. The dog’s head exploded in a rain of blood, and the animal fell to the ground as an echo of the shot diminished in the distance. Elaine and Jenny screamed. He wasn’t sure he hadn’t shouted out himself.  

“Excellent!” Robards pronounced with a grin, walking over to Parvesh and clapping him on the back. “You did great!” He reached down and took the gun out of Parvesh’s hand.  

The division head was staring down at the bloody body and trembling.  

Robards reached behind himself and pulled a rough cloth sack out of his backpack. “We’ll put it in here,” he said, “and bring it back with us as a trophy. Who wants to help me?”  

No one volunteered. In fact, Craig was not the only one to take an involuntary step backward.  

Robards shrugged. “Guess I’ll do it myself.” He placed the sack on the ground, opening up the neck. Rolling up his sleeves, he reached down, picking up the Labrador’s body. There was no head left to speak of, and several chunks of wet red flesh dropped to the ground. Blood was flowing now instead of spraying, but it was still leaking out of the dead animal’s ragged neck as Robards dropped the dog into the sack and tied the opening in a knot. The guide’s hands and forearms were coated with blood, and he bent over, grabbed two handfuls of dirt and began rubbing the dirt over his skin. The dirt turned brownish black and muddy, and Robards opened his canteen and poured the water over his hands and arms, which emerged from the ordeal surprisingly clean.  

He picked up the heavy sack, slinging it over his shoulder. “Let’s go!” he said. “Move out!”  

Robards whistled a happy tune, but the rest of them were silent as they followed him back through the woods and down the long trail to the camp, where Matthews was in the lodge, collecting papers from those who had remained. Before him was a box filled with what looked like branches, rocks and debris. Once inside, the entire group, with the exception of Parvesh, hurried over. They were all speaking at once, but it was Elaine’s outraged voice that carried above the others. “He made Parvesh kill a dog!”  

“I know,” Matthews said quietly, looking down, and that shut everyone up.  

He had known.  

He didn’t seem happy about it, though, and like the incident with the bus driver, the reaction left the CEO diminished in Craig’s eyes, leaving him to wonder once again who was really in charge of CompWare.