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Survivalist Reality Show: The Complete Series

Page 4

by Grace Hamilton


  3

  Far too little was happening for Regan’s taste, and it was making her crazy. Wolf felt the need to methodically check every box and crate. Everyone else seemed to be at a loss as to what to do, instead waiting for their leader to give the order to go. It was clear from the shifting feet and glances that the group wanted to go as soon as possible, but Wolf was taking his own sweet time.

  “Aren’t we going to leave?” she asked irritably. “You said we need to take advantage of the daylight.”

  “Yes, but once we leave this set, we’re not coming back. We need to take every useful thing we can find.”

  “Aren’t we already doing that?” she protested.

  He shrugged. “No, we looked for prepackaged supplies. We were looking at the obvious. Now, we need to look at the not-so-obvious. Everything you see here could be used in some way out there,” he gestured wide with his arms before turning back to another pile of discarded equipment.

  “How long do you plan on staying in this swamp?” she demanded.

  He eyed her closely, not bothering to stand from what he’d been doing. “You rode in here in a Jeep. We are going to be walking out. I don’t think you know what you’re up against.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I think you’re still in game mode, playing up the drama and danger. Be real, Wolf; how long do you think it’s going to take us to get out of here?”

  “I don’t know, Regan. It takes as long as it takes. What if someone is injured? What if we have to change course? There’s been a lot of rain, and it’s going to make walking out tough.”

  “Fine, what are you looking for?” she pressed. “I’ll help and then we can get moving.”

  He smiled at her, but it wasn’t exactly a friendly smile. It was a smile she had seen before from her caseworker when she’d been young. It said she needed to relax and let the grown-ups take care of things. That had never worked out well for her in the past, and never again would anyone else be in charge of her fate. Her life was in her hands. It had been that way since she’d run away from her last foster home at the age of fifteen.

  She was preparing to turn and stalk off into the woods when Wolf finally answered her.

  “First, we look for cordage. It will come in handy if we need to build shelters or if someone gets hurt and needs to be carried out on a stretcher,” he explained, holding up an extension cord.

  “That’s heavy,” she protested.

  He nodded. “It is. I would prefer something lighter. That’s what I want you to look for.”

  Regan frowned, but moved over to another stack of equipment and began searching.

  “What about me?” Fred asked, stepping up from where he’d been chatting with Geno.

  Wolf paused. “Water bottles, even if they’re empty. The other people took most of the water with them. I found a bottle of purification tablets, but we need vessels to catch water.”

  “Got it,” Fred said even as Tabitha and Geno approached.

  “What about us?”

  “Geno, you can start collecting the dry moss you see hanging from vines and trees. Anything dry you can find. We’re going to need it to start fires, and it’s light to carry.”

  “It’s plenty warm,” Geno argued.

  Wolf nodded, but explained, “We need a fire to purify our water, and the smoke will help keep mosquitoes away.”

  Regan kept one eye on the conversations as Wolf doled out instructions, never stopping what he was doing. Although they tended to clash, she was happy to be with his group. If she allowed herself to admit it, the man made her feel safe.

  “And me?” Tabitha asked. “I can collect some of the plants I found that serve medicinal purposes,” she offered.

  Wolf nodded his head again. “Perfect. Do you know what you’re looking for?”

  “Yes, and I also saw some Beauty Berries—not really medicinal, but we can eat them,” she replied.

  “Get the leaves, too,” Wolf ordered. “We can crush them and rub them on our skin to repel the mosquitoes.”

  With the reminder, Tabitha grinned. “Thank God, I don’t want to worry about someone getting sick from a mosquito bite or scratching themselves to the point they break their skin. That’s only going to invite infection. I did see arrowhead plants, as well. We can eat those, too, right?”

  “Yes,” Wolf assured her.

  Tabitha nodded, looking off into the shrubs. “Good. And I saw some of those bracken ferns you mentioned that first week. I suppose I should collect those also.”

  Wolf smiled, but Regan blushed and re-focused on what she’d been doing as he answered. “Yes, definitely. If we’re going to be dining on berries and frogs and whatever else we can find, a toilet paper substitute is going to be a nice thing to have.”

  Everyone had a task soon enough, and Regan had a feeling this had been Wolf’s goal. He wanted them to work together. Considering how things had gone as she looked for cordage, it occurred to her that he’d been waiting for someone to ask him what they should be doing, while he’d already been hard at work looking for more supplies.

  When they regrouped a while later, everyone offered up their finds for the group’s review.

  “What do we do when we get back to the city?” Tabitha asked.

  Wolf shifted, seeming more uncertain than he had earlier. “You can all come with me if you choose, as I said. I’m willing to open up my home to you, if you are all willing to pitch in. I know the idea of being on an island can feel isolating, but it also provides a level of safety and security.”

  “Do you have a big house or something?” Geno asked. “Like, a mansion?”

  Wolf smirked. “Not exactly. But I own an island.”

  Regan’s mouth dropped open. “You actually own the island?”

  He shrugged. “Yes. It isn’t public knowledge, really. It’s a small island. I’ve been prepping for some time. I feel confident the island will sustain us for the foreseeable future.”

  “Wow,” Regan muttered.

  She’d never realized how lucrative the whole survival show thing was. Clearly, she was in the wrong field. Islands weren’t cheap. At least, she didn’t think they were. She hadn’t exactly been in the market to buy a house, let alone a private island.

  “I thought you lived in Naples?” Fred asked.

  Wolf raised an eyebrow, meeting his eyes.

  “I looked you up. I don’t go into anything without knowing everything,” the quirky man said, not apologizing for the stalking.

  Regan snickered. It was a little funny to think of Fred cyber-stalking, even if Wolf looked somewhat irritated by it.

  “My public address is in Naples, but I live on my island.”

  “Is the island safe?” Fred asked.

  Wolf nodded. “It damn well better be. Like I said, my daughter is there with my dad. Both are very capable. In fact, I think my Lily could run circles around most people in the prepper world. My dad is a survivor. He hates the term survivalist or prepper. He’s set in his own ways, and if you think I’m set in traditional Native American ways, wait until you meet him,” he said with a warm smile.

  Regan couldn’t ignore the fact that she felt a little tug at her heart as she watched Wolf’s normally serious demeanor soften up. It was a different side of him—one he’d kept well hidden. For the first time, she felt like his host persona had really been left behind. He was simply their group leader now, and they were in it together.

  “You don’t mind if we crash your party, then?” Fred asked with his goofy grin.

  Wolf shrugged. “We could use some able bodies. No freeloaders, though. Everyone has to pull their own weight.”

  Regan wasn’t convinced she was going to the island at all, and decided to let the others work out the details while she searched for more cordage and got her own supplies sorted out. As she stepped aside, the group erupted into a cacophony of voices, each expressing their opinion about where they should go and Wolf’s choice to use an island as a bug-out location. It was grati
ng on her nerves and exactly why she preferred to be alone.

  Geno’s booming voice drowned out anything Fred said, which was probably a good thing. Fred tossed out one ludicrous idea after the next. The man had these grand plans of saving the world when they didn’t even know what or who it needed to be saved from. Regan was focused on saving her own butt.

  She walked away and started to reorganize the supplies in her bag, including the spare socks she’d found. She could still hear everyone bickering behind her as her focus shifted to surviving the next several days. It was always one day at a time for her. This new scenario wasn’t any different. One day at a time; one meal at a time; one night at a time.

  “Hey, can you hold this for me?” Tabitha asked.

  Regan looked up and saw a roll of gauze being thrust in her face.

  “What happened?” she asked, instantly concerned.

  Tabitha waved her hand. “Nothing serious. I got caught on some branches. The cut isn’t deep, but I don’t want flies landing on it and—” she stopped talking and shuddered. “I’ll spare you the details, but if you get an open wound out here, let me know right away. Maggots are no joke,” she warned.

  Regan fought back the vomit rising in her throat at the very mention of the word. “Gross.”

  Tabitha chuckled. “Exactly.”

  Regan helped her wrap her upper arm, completely covering the cut. “You guys going to go to the island?”

  Tabitha nodded. “I think it’s our best option. We don’t really have anywhere else to go anyway.”

  “What if it isn’t an EMP? What if his crew quit or something?” Regan offered, not willing to accept any explanation at face value.

  “If that’s the case, we won’t be getting paid. Geno and I will have to find our way back to New York or wherever it is we decide to go.”

  Regan nodded.

  “Hey,” Wolf hollered.

  Tabitha and Regan both looked back at the man, his long hair blowing in the breeze. He always looked so serious. And strong. His arms weren’t as big as Geno’s and he didn’t look like he needed to walk sideways through a door, but he was definitely built.

  The women walked back over to join the men. “What?” Regan snarked, not happy to be summoned.

  “You okay?” Wolf asked Tabitha, looking at the fresh white bandage on her arm.

  She nodded. “Just a scratch. I’ll be fine.”

  “Keep it covered and dry,” he warned.

  “I know. I will,” she promised, and Regan marveled again at how easy-going she was. Of all of them, Tabitha knew what to do about injuries—if Regan had been in her shoes, she wouldn’t have been able to take Wolf’s advice so calmly, not without reminding him she was the expert.

  “We need to take inventory of supplies,” Wolf announced. “Our main goal is to get to the city. That’s going to take a day or two once we’re out of the swamp, possibly longer, and that’s after we take a few days getting out of the swamp. That means we’re going to need to build shelter at night. Cordage and a knife will be helpful. We’ll need to sleep off the ground if it’s wet, too, so we’ll potentially be building platforms. What’s everyone got?”

  Regan held up the electric cords she had cut off various pieces of equipment, along with the wires she had taken from inside the insulated outdoor extension cord and the pocket knife she’d used. Wolf nodded his head in satisfaction.

  “I have a knife,” he said, holding up the long-bladed hunting knife he wore in a sheath on his belt.

  “If we would have been allowed to keep any of the survival gear we each had when we showed up, this would have been easier,” Geno complained.

  Wolf nodded. “Yes, but that wasn’t the game. You agreed to play a game with what we gave you. You each got to keep one item. All your gear is back at the studio. Feel free to get there and pick it up when we’re out of the swamp,” he added pointedly.

  The words were said in a soft, but firm voice. Wolf was clearly done with the bickering. That at least made Regan happy. She only wanted to forget about everything else and get out of this swamp.

  “Fire—that’s our next goal,” Wolf stated.

  Regan fought the urge to shout at him to speed things up. They needed to get a move on.

  “I’ve got the dried stuff for the tinder bundle. Do we have matches or a lighter?” Geno asked.

  Fred held up the magnesium stick he had been granted the first week in the show. He was the only one with a fire tool. The rest of the contestants were going without or trying the old-school methods of rubbing two sticks together. Regan ran a thumb over her palm where it was still bruised after her attempt to use a bow drill to start a fire. The bow drill had been made under Wolf’s tutelage, but it had been a complete failure. She had vowed to load up on matches and lighters when they got back to civilization, never wanting to be without a way to start a fire again.

  “For water,” Wolf commented, “we have the bottle of purification tablets we can use when we’re on the move. When we stop for the night, we’ll purify more water we collect. First aid?” he asked, looking to Tabitha.

  “I have a couple kits. It’s not enough for a disaster, but I can take care of minor injuries.”

  “What about the EpiPens?” Wolf asked Regan, concern pulling his lips into a frown.

  “I have one in my pocket, so I’ll have to do my best not to get stung.” She couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of her voice, and his question only spurred her desire to get a move on, but he kept talking.

  Wolf narrowed his eyes at her. “This is serious. We have to be methodical, and we all need to know where we stand with supplies, and health. We cannot run out into the harsh swamp and hope for the best.”

  Before she could respond, Tabitha broke in to say that they still had some EpiPens.

  Wolf went back to asking about various supplies. Finally, satisfied they were on the same page, he pulled out a map and spread it on the ground, motioning for everyone to look at it. He began to lay out their route. When everyone moved away to collect their gear, leaving the map with some tiny pebble holding it on the ground, Regan saw the opportunity and quietly took it up to put it in her own pack.

  This group thing was going to slow her down. That much was clear from the way Wolf kept checking and rechecking things, and talking about their plan. She was more of an action kind of girl and had been her entire life. There was no way she wanted to hang out and chit-chat for another hour about what they should do. She’d had to learn the hard way that hanging around and waiting for help from someone else could well result in a worse situation than she was already in. That was how she lost her mom and ended up in the system. No way was she interested in things getting worse. Being on her own made things easy. When she saw a problem, it was quickly solved. She didn’t have to wait for democracy to do its thing. The group would probably get her killed, she couldn’t help thinking now, seeing how slow it was going. Everyone had their own opinion and nobody seemed to realize how urgent it was that they get moving. It was too many opinions and no action.

  She had thought they were her best bet for survival, but that didn’t appear to be the case. They’d still be talking by the time she walked out of the swamp at the rate they were going.

  4

  The Island: Lily

  Dear Diary: Word’s gone out that school has been cancelled for good. Everyone on the mainland is talking about it, and it was the first thing we heard about when we went into town. I’m not sure if that’s a good or bad thing. I don’t like school, but I like hanging out with my friends. It sucks not knowing what’s going on with everyone. We can’t call, text, tweet, or anything else. It’s so lame. And all my friends can still hang out together and that’s worse. Not me. I’m stuck out on the island with my grandpa. Just me and Pops. Woohoo.

  I guess I should be happy we still have a working generator and I can listen to music. I get that we’re lucky and all, but I feel like I’m back in the old days, listening to my grandpa’s old records and stuff
.

  It isn’t the best music, but it’s better than the total silence everyone else is stuck with. My friends probably don’t have running water, either. At least I can still use a toilet! They don’t know we have all this stuff. Dad made me promise to never tell. As far as anyone knows, we live in a condo in Naples. They probably think I’m holed up there and don’t understand why I’m not wandering around with them.

  Grandpa is going to make me crazy. The man wants to do a hundred different things and ends up doing nothing. It was funny when it didn’t matter. Now, it does matter. I can’t wait until Dad gets back. I hope he’s okay. It’s been more than a week since the lights went out. He was off filming the new season of his show. I wonder if they even know what’s happening. I didn’t think I would miss him, but with what’s happening, I do. Kind of. I miss that he isn’t here to keep Grandpa from driving me crazy, definitely! I don’t miss him lecturing me and telling me not to do stuff.

  Back to Grandpa. Seriously! Dad always said we should worry about the most important things first and deal with the rest later. Grandpa didn’t get the memo. He tried to fix a skylight today! A skylight! Dad left us with a checklist of things to do, should this apocalypse thing ever happen. I don’t think Grandpa’s done even one thing on the list. He did put some caulking stuff around the window because that was important. I think Grandpa is a little scared. He pretends he isn’t, but I know he is. He’s worried about Dad, too, but he shouldn’t be. Dad is super-good at the survival thing. He’ll be okay.

  I wanted to go into town today and raid the stores, but Grandpa didn’t want to. He said it was too dangerous. He says by now people will have figured out they’re in bad shape and will be crazy. Normal people will resort to violence because they’re panicking and hungry. I kind of feel bad for the people who didn’t stock food or water in their homes. I’m no expert, I get it, but come on! That’s common sense!

 

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