The Contestant. Stephanie Doyle
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we can’t tell you,” Evan said. “It will be easier for you this way, so you’re not tempted to find our camp. Joe and Dino will take shifts filming throughout the day. At night, for the most part, you’ll be on your own. We’ll leave you with a walkie-talkie that should be used only in an emergency. That’s it. Any other questions?”
“Yes, where do I go to get my nails done?” Marlie laughed at her own joke, and so did Tommy. They were the only two.
“Okay, Joe and I will head back. Dino, you can film until your pack runs low and let us know when to pick you up.” Evan turned over the walkie-talkie to the cameraman. “For the rest of the day I suggest you guys concentrate on building a camp. I don’t have to tell you that fire is your first priority. And I’m allowed to tell you that not too far inland is a freshwater stream. The water should be boiled before drinking it, but there is more than enough for everyone. We’ve left a metal bucket at the stream for you to use. Tomorrow will be your first ‘necessity event.’ Oh, and you will all need these.”
Evan reached into the boat and pulled out a waterproof sack. He unzipped it and Talia could see what was inside. Eight portable microphones. Reluctantly she took one. It had a clip that she could hook onto her shorts. She’d insisted on the jeans as strongly as her father had insisted on the bikini.
“After all, girlie, showing a little skin might get you some new endorsement deals.”
Her last commercial after the Olympic games had been for Ace bandages. She’d taken half the money and paid a semester of college. She’d given the other half to her father, who turned around and used it to finance a search for a legendary pirate’s sunken treasure in the Caribbean. He didn’t find it. But he’d had fun.
“And isn’t that what life is about, girlie?”
Maybe it wasn’t too late, she thought sinisterly. Maybe she could still turn him over to Rocco and ask the loan shark not to be too rough. It was a definite possibility.
The rest of the group imitated her action with the microphone, then stood back as Evan and Joe got back into the boat and headed out of the inlet. Dino hefted the camera on his bulky shoulder and got to work.
“Okay,” Gus began. “This is the part where we start telling each other what to do because we each think we know best. So before that happens and we all get pissed off, does anyone have any serious camping experience?”
Talia raised her hand. So did Gus. “Then how about we try getting a fire started,” Talia suggested. “Someone else should go for water. And we’ll need something to sleep on.”
“Why?” Tommy wanted to know. “We can sleep on the sand. It will be soft.”
“And filled with sand mites that will eat you alive. Trust me.”
“I can get the water,” Iris volunteered. “I’ll take Marlie and Nancy.”
“What?” Tommy said sneering. “You think girls can find water better than men?”
“No, she thinks you, me and Sam are the best candidates to get wood for the fire, and logs and ferns for us to sleep on,” Reuben told the younger man. “You got a problem with that?”
And there it was, Talia thought. The first gauntlet being thrown. Reuben was immediately stepping into the role of alpha male and was all but daring Tommy to try and take it from him.
“Whatever,” Tommy muttered. “Let the girls go find the water.”
Round one: Reuben.
She wasn’t surprised.
“How do you want to do this, Gus?” Talia asked him, indicating the method they would use to start the fire.
“I’m pretty good with two sticks.”
Talia understood that meant scraping one stick that served as a spear against the other that served as a shell to create enough friction to cause a spark.
“Then let’s start looking for something that will work, as well as some dry brush,” she concluded.
All at once people were moving. Deciding to follow the men or deciding to follow Marlie, it was quite obvious who Dino was going to film. Talia for one was glad to see him go. Meanwhile, Reuben pushed into the brush surrounding the beach, instructing Sam and Tommy on what they were looking for.
Gus found the first piece of the puzzle—a thick, dry piece of bark that was curved. Talia paired it with a stick that had a sharp point. Then they found some stringy remains of a palm leaf that would serve as kindling and got to work.
Talia held the bark in place and watched as Gus made quick back-and-forth motions with the stick. The tip snapped off but he continued to work it in staccato thrusts. In the meantime, Reuben gathered some significantly sized pieces of wood that he dropped near Talia for use when the fire finally caught.
She glanced at the pile quickly. “We want the driest pieces you can find.”
“Oh. The dry wood. Sure, no problem. I’ll just go to the dry side of the island.”
She ignored his sarcasm and instead concentrated on the small pile of brush they’d placed where the bark and stick connected. She could feel the bark growing warmer, but that was a long way away from hot.
“I’m done,” Gus panted. “I need a break.”
They switched tasks and Talia worked the sharp branch against the bark. The key was consistency. Hard, fast strokes delivered unceasingly would not only create the friction they needed, but also exacerbate it.
“That’s it. Keep it going.”
“I’m getting tired,” she warned him, preparing him for the next switch. “Now.”
Moving fast so as not to lose the momentum or the heat, they switched and Gus went back to work. After a time, they switched again and Talia was working the stick. Around them the men already had brought back enough materials to set up a mat to sleep on for the night and Iris had returned triumphantly with a pail of water.
Their tasks complete, the group focused on Talia and Gus. The tension was tangible considering the stakes. If this worked, they could boil water and have some warmth tonight. If they failed, everyone would suffer. As the sun started to set, and all of their clothes still damp from the earlier swim, it was clear that the group was starting to get a little cold and very thirsty.
Talia worked the stick in her hands, feeling it scrape against her palms. Blisters had already formed and burst making her hands slick with blood and ooze. Still, she worked, beyond the pain in her shoulders, beyond the stinging and beyond the fatigue.
Moving past pain was nothing new to her. She’d done exactly that each day of her training. It was expected, by her coach and by her. It might have been years since she’d pushed herself quite this hard, but the old routine came back like riding a bicycle.
“You’re bleeding. Stop and let me finish.” Reuben was standing over her shoulder and evidently could see the blood coating the stick in her hands.
“I’m almost there. I can feel it. Gus?”
“There have been a few embers,” he reported. “But nothing’s caught yet.”
“I said stop. You’re hurting yourself.”
She shot a glance at Reuben, which she hoped sent the message to back off. He was doing it again, laying down the gauntlet and expecting her to bend to his will.
Fat chance.
“If you don’t stop, I’m pulling you off.”
“What’s your problem, man? Let her finish.” This came from Tommy who was apparently already annoyed with his older, stronger counterpart.
“Yeah.” Marlie backed up Tommy, her loyalties formed.
“Honey, your hands are bleeding,” Iris commented.
“Oh