All In The Game. Barbara Boswell
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“The fish is dead,” announced Konrad.
Ty resumed filming.
“This fish would make a decent-size meal for two people, maybe even three, but we’ll only have a few mouthfuls each if we split it six ways,” said Konrad. “So let’s not.”
“It’s only fair to share it with everybody,” insisted Lauren.
“We could outvote her.” Konrad turned to Shannen. “Two against one not to share.”
“My stomach wants to go along with you, but my better instincts tell me that Lauren is right.” Shannen sighed.
“Better instincts? More like idiotic instincts,” Konrad muttered, then added a few unintelligible growls as they trooped back to shore.
Cortnee was so delighted to see the fish, she squealed with joy and hugged Konrad and the twins in turn.
Rico and Jed tried to look happy but weren’t altogether convincing.
“Their smiles are so fake, I’m surprised their faces haven’t cracked,” observed Shannen to no one in particular. “They want to be the heroes, but you can’t catch anything, lounging around on the beach all day.”
“Told you it was stupid to share,” Konrad needled her.
Ty noticed that Reggie had moved closer to film the group, and he turned off his own camera. “Shannen.” His voice was lower than a whisper, but Shannen heard.
“Don’t talk to me,” she warned, her voice even quieter than his.
It was a warning Ty didn’t heed. “Meet me tonight. Same time and place as last night.”
“No!” She looked alarmed. “I can’t! I…I—” She was truly rattled.
“Be there,” said Ty, and moved away from her.
“Shannen, what’s wrong?” Lauren called out to her.
Shannen looked up to see Reggie, a few feet away, filming her.
Lauren was staring at her, confused. “You look—you don’t look happy, Shan.”
“Maybe she’s jealous because she wasn’t the one to catch the fish,” mocked Jed.
“Maybe I’m not happy because I expect you’ll try to grab yourself some glory and insist on cooking the fish yourself,” Shannen countered. “Thereby rendering it inedible.”
Jed took instant umbrage. “I’m a damn good cook. I even contributed a recipe that I invented myself to the Living off the Land cookbook.”
“What was it, how to barbecue roadkill?” Konrad snickered. “Step one, you pick it off the side of the road. Step two—”
“It was how to make elk stew,” Jed inserted disdainfully. “And—”
“Whatever,” snapped Cortnee. “Just don’t get anywhere near this fish!”
“He’s only had a few cooking…mishaps here on the island.” Lauren tried to make peace.
“You mean disasters, not mishaps,” corrected Rico.
“I’ve never cooked a bad meal,” Jed said huffily. “You’re all just a bunch of picky eaters.”
“Jed’s already proved that he doesn’t know the difference between cooking something or cremating it,” Shannen said flatly. “I vote that he not cook the fish.”
“I’m with you, twin,” said Rico.
“Me, too,” said Konrad.
“You’ve got my vote,” said Cortnee.
“Are we seeing cracks in what has previously been a staunch and solid alliance?” Bobby Dixon asked in his smiling, smooth soliloquy, filmed a mile down the beach.
A light breeze ruffled his thick hair and he smoothed it down with his hand, dimpling deeply.
“Tonight, after the victory contest, these six survivors, who have stuck together from the very beginning, will have to vote out one of their own.” His voice took on a note of urgency and suspense. “What shifts of allegiance will occur to form new alliances as we count down to five and then to the Final Four? Who has what it takes to be Victorious?”
Later the six contestants gathered around the fire, eating the fish cooked by the twins.
“That was great,” Rico said expansively, patting his washboard stomach. “If the food is as good at that diner your family owns, I’m heading there as soon as we’re off this island.”
“Shannen and I have been short-order cooks since we were in junior high,” said Lauren. “Of course, it’s much easier at home, because we don’t have to catch the food ourselves.”
“Well, no matter what you hear, the food in prison isn’t bad,” Konrad interjected. “And you get more of it than one lousy fish split six ways.”
“I’m still hungry,” wailed Cortnee. “Having only a couple bites of fish and a blob of wretched rice is like being on a starvation diet.”
“I cooked the rice and it wasn’t wretched, it was fine,” snarled Jed.
“It really wasn’t wretched at all,” Lauren hastily agreed.
“Uh-oh, look what’s headed our way.” Shannen was the first to spy Bobby Dixon strolling down the beach toward them, wearing his immaculately pressed khaki slacks and matching safari shirt.
“He looks so neat and clean all the time, I can’t stand it.” Cortnee groaned. “It’s been how long since we had a hot shower? And washing your hair in the ocean is really bad. There’s a reason why saltwater shampoo was never invented.”
“Wouldn’t it be thrilling to see Slick Bobby look less…dapper?” Shannen flashed a naughty smile. “It might even take my mind off being hungry out here all the time.”
“Yeah, but it’ll never happen.” Rico heaved a disgruntled sigh. “We’ll stay hungry as long as we’re on the island, and Bobby will stay clean. You just know he has his clothes cleaned and pressed every day over in the crew’s camp. And somehow he never sweats, no matter how hot it is.”
“Makes you wonder if the guy’s human,” murmured Shannen. “I’ve had my doubts. Those dimples of his look like computer animation.”
“I bet Slick B would sweat if we poured fish guts over him,” said Konrad, staring moodily into the bean can holding the fish remains. They’d saved the can from their first days on the island, to use as a container.
“Anybody want to try it and see?” Rico asked eagerly. “Cortnee? Twins?”
Shannen laughed. “You’re evil, Rico.”
“Hello, all.” Bobby joined them, dimpling at the camera. “No mail-in-the-tree today. I brought the contest requirements to you in person.”
“Watch out, Bobby. They’ve hatched this juvenile plan to drench you in fish guts,” Jed called out.
Konrad scowled. “Anybody know what that stoolie is talking about?”
The others shrugged and shook their heads.
“I do know that Jed is a rat.” Cortnee sniffed. “And if he didn’t win every contest and get himself immunity, I’d gladly vote him off.”
“You can dream, but it’s never going to happen, baby-cakes.” Jed positioned himself so his sculpted body had full camera advantage. “And keep in mind that we’re no longer a team anymore. Now it’s everyone for himself—or herself, as the case may be.”
“Jed is right,” agreed Bobby. “It’s everyone for him-or herself, and the contest today is a rowboat race. All six of you will take