“The Doom Statues” — Chapter 37

“You grabbin a plate?” Clay asks, as they approach the hotel pans of food.

“Nah, I ain’t got time for that shit.”

“You ain’t got time for that shit,” Clay repeats, laughing, as he does grab one, begins heaping it with scrambled eggs, sausage links, a couple of biscuits and some gravy.

“Eh, Kidwell’s already here,” Jeremy explains, and, after ripping off two squares from a paper towel roll, picks up an equal number of breakfast sandwiches. “I would say he’s got me hopping around at this ungodly hour, except it was pretty much my idea.”

“Oh yeah? What’s that?” Clay asks, gesturing with an elbow at the table, “sittin down?”

“Probably not. But ah…well, we’re gonna measure how far that natural spring tunnel goes. By stealing some of Rafael’s yarn.”

“No shit?!” Clay half shouts, grinning broadly, “wow, that’s fuckin hilarious! But kinda smart, too…” Some less enthusiastic diners glance up, shooting stern, partially asleep glances their way. And then back down at their phones again, soon enough.

Despite protests otherwise, Jeremy finds himself straddling the picnic table bench, beside Clay, as he starts tearing into breakfast. “Yeah, well, what did I say,” he shrugs, “I get some ideas every now and then.”