Island Redemption

by Suzanne Cass

  CONTENTS

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Copyright

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  Coming Soon

  ISLAND REDEMPTION

  Suzanne Cass

  Dedication

  To my husband, Gary, who endured watching all those

  seasons of Survivor with me.

  Copyright © 2017 Suzanne Cass

  All rights reserved.

  The right of Suzanne Cass to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organisations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Suzanne Cass researched reality television to write this book, it in no way represents their framework or how these shows are conducted. All events in this book are a figment of her imagination.

  Cover design by GoOnWrite.com

  CHAPTER ONE

  A rivulet of sweat ran down between Cilla’s breasts. It was hot. Searing hot, with not even a hint of breeze to cool the air.

  Had she made a mistake coming here?

  ‘Everyone, pick up your stuff and get ready to jump.’ Cilla’s heart rate skyrocketed at the sound of the host, JJ Hannah’s, voice. Nervous flutters twisted her stomach into knots. It was time. The moment they’d all been waiting for. She rubbed her palms on the material of her shorts, her hands suddenly slick. The water looked deep, but when JJ told them to go she knew she’d do it without a moment’s hesitation.

  Lining up with the other contestants along the edge of the boat she looked down into the crystal blue water, watching flashes of silver as schools of tiny fish darted away.

  ‘Jump,’ JJ said, his voice loud and clear. Cilla jumped.

  The water was smooth and deliciously cool against her hot skin. Adjusting the small backpack to sit up high behind the nape of her neck she started to breaststroke towards the island. Others were doing the same around her with varying degrees of success. A couple of the stronger guys were stroking out in front of her, half way to the island already. A girl to her left spluttered and floundered, her large bag weighing her down. One man still stood on the edge of the boat, agitatedly muttering to himself that he wasn’t good at this kind of thing.

  Twenty metres off to their right, another wooden fishing boat — an exact replica of the one she’d sat upon — rose and fell in sync with the ocean swell. Each boat held nine contestants, and now Cilla could see they were also fighting their way towards shore.

  Directly in front of them lay a large island, with a wide sweep of pure white sand shaped in a crooked imitation of a smile. Coconut palms stood tall, hovering at the back of the beach, casting their pom-pom shadows on the sand. A small range of mountains covered in a blanket of dark green towered behind the beach. Soft wavelets broke musically onto the flat shoreline with an easy swish.

  Paradise found.

  Now she was in the water her nervousness had all but disappeared. It was good to be doing something at long last. All that sitting and waiting had rubbed her nerves raw with an impatient need to get this game started. She was a strong swimmer – it came with the territory when you lived and worked around boats – and Cilla knew her body would do the job for her. So she let her concentration slide to the beach and what might lie ahead.

  She was about to be marooned on a deserted island with seventeen other people. As a young girl Cilla had always dreamt of doing exactly this; a childhood fantasy. She knew many other people had the exact same idealistic vision, but that was as far as most people took it. Now the reality-show, Sea-Quest, was about to make her dream come true.

  But it wasn’t just her desire to attest to her survival skills bringing her here. It was the prize money that drew her, as it had so surely attracted all the other contestants. The winner would have a chance to dig for a treasure chest holding a one million dollar prize. And she needed that money. Desperately. For both herself and her grandmother.

  There was a prize for the runner-up of two hundred thousand, but second place had never even entered her mind. She was here to win. At all costs.

  A resolute scowl settled over her features as she continued to swim towards the beach. Her grandmother had always told her determination was one of her strong suits, she’d never given up on anything, even as a little girl. And she was determined not to give up on this. Determined to win this game.

  ~

  ‘We’ll just wait for the stragglers.’ JJ flashed his perfect teeth. Most of the group were now standing in a sodden semi-circle on a large blue mat spread beneath the shade of a coconut tree. Cilla studied JJ from under the brim of her baseball cap while they waited for the three remaining contestants to drag themselves up the beach.

  JJ was everything she’d been expecting, everything she’d seen on TV. Ruggedly handsome, with perceptive brown eyes and sleek ebony skin. His impossibly square shoulders were highlighted by the black muscle-shirt stretched over his torso, with designer jeans covering his impressive thighs like a sheath. A black fedora hat sat at a jaunty angle on top of his immaculately shaved head. JJ might look like the epitome of a well-dressed rock star, but she knew better than to draw assumptions from his appearance. He had a razor sharp intelligence, tempered with a self-effacing humour that made him the perfect host for this reality-show.

  This man would be their lifeline to the outside for the next month or so; the chieftain of the teams. He would be there as an impartial observer, but was he really friend or executioner? She’d love to know what thoughts he kept so artfully hidden from the world behind his dimple encrusted grin and unshakable manner.

  ‘Right, we’re all here now. Let’s make a start,’ JJ said, making a pretence of counting heads. ‘Welcome to Thailand. This is Ko Mae Ko Island and it’ll be your home – for some of you at least – for the next thirty-five days.’ He opened his arms in an expansive gesture. ‘First of all, we need to introduce ourselves. You, down the end of the line, why don’t you start? Tell us your name and what you do for a living.’ JJ indicated a tall Asian man with a gap-toothed smile who stood next to Cilla.

  ‘Uh … Okay …’ The man cleared his throat and started again. ‘Hi, my name is Chongan Long. Cho for short. I’m a financial advisor and I’m here to win.’

  Cilla groaned under her breath. Too much arrogance would get you voted out of this game pretty quick; she knew that much from watching all the previous seasons on TV.

  Cilla wasn’t sure exactly how she was going to play this game yet, she needed to get a better handle on everyone else’s tactics first. But one thing was for sure, it wasn’t in her nature to be arrogant or to throw her weight around. There wer
e other ways to get people to do what you wanted. She was more likely to make friends and keep a low profile. Her job included sailing boats for a living and meant that she was physically fit and strong, giving her a knowledge of the ocean few other people had. But because of her petite size most people were likely to disregard her, and that was the way she wanted to keep it.

  ‘Great to meet you Cho, and I’m sure there are seventeen other contestants here who might want to argue that point.’ JJ’s smile didn’t quite meet the corners of his eyes.

  Then he indicated Cilla with a nod of his head. Straightening her back she drew in a deep breath. Painting on her brightest smile she said, ‘Hi everyone.’ Making eye contact with a few people around the circle, she said, ‘I’m Cilla Parsons and I sail boats for a living.’ Her statement made a few give a quiet gasp.

  ‘Interesting,’ replied JJ. ‘It sounds like you enjoy what you do.’

  ‘Yes I do,’ she answered. Sailing was her passion and there was no use hiding the fact she got to do the one thing she loved every single day.

  ‘A knowledge of the ocean is probably a skill that’ll come in handy for some of the knockout battles, don’t you think?’ he said, an amused glint in his eye. Trust JJ to hold nothing back.

  ‘Perhaps,’ she answered coyly.

  JJ pointed to the next person in line, the plumpish lady who’d struggled to get her large bag to shore. Everyone’s gaze moved away from Cilla. She took a slow, deep breath. That hadn’t been as hard as she anticipated, but she still had to force her shoulders to loosen up.

  She tried to focus on everyone’s names as they went around the circle. The girl next to her was called Phoebe, and then there was an African American woman called Alisha, but long before they reached the other end of the line she’d lost track of people’s names and what they did. All the faces blurred together, her mind a whirl of what was to come, her edginess returning ten-fold. A lot of these people were much bigger than her, and she could see the glint of staunch ambition in more than one person’s eyes too. Would her determination and sheer will to win be enough? She’d have to try even harder than anyone else. Between deception and survival lies redemption, that was the show’s motto and somehow she’d have to find a way to be the last contestant standing, so that she might indeed find redemption. In the form of one million dollars.

  The sound of JJ’s voice broke through her musing and stopped the quiet whispering going on in the background. ‘Before we get started on dividing into teams, I have a little task for you to complete. There are certain items you’ll need to make your stay on this island easier. Some of them are essential, others a bit more of a luxury.’ He paused and lifted a hand. ‘If you look over there, you’ll see a large wooden corral.’ Cilla followed JJ’s pointed finger to a deeply shaded area at the back of the beach, where there was indeed a fence-like structure.

  ‘On my go, you’ll all race in and collect as many items as you can in the allotted time of one minute.’ It all sounded fairly straightforward. ‘There is a twist, however.’ Cilla held her breath. Of course there was a twist, how could it be Sea-Quest without a twist? ‘The items you obtain remain your property and your property alone. Even after you’ve been divided into your teams, you don’t have to share your treasure. Is that clear?’

  The consequences of JJ’s statement made Cilla’s head spin. It seemed it was never too early to start the game of strategy. Her feet itched with the need to start the sprint over to the corral.

  ‘Everyone line up behind the line in the sand over here,’ JJ said, indicating towards the ocean side of the beach. Cilla was jostled and bumped as she moved, trying to find the best position for her start. She was squashed between a small overweight man who was already pink in the face from the heat, and a lithe blonde-haired girl with hard-edged eyes. The fat man didn’t look hard to beat, but then again looks could be deceiving, especially out here. All these people had been chosen because they possessed something special, excelled at something, be it mental strength or physical toughness.

  ‘Get ready. You’ll go on my count of three.’ JJ raised his enormous arm like someone from an old time movie about to start a car race. ‘One. Two. Three.’ JJ dropped his arm and Cilla went. Her bare toes dug deep into the sand, her quad muscles working overtime as her legs pumped and she sped over the sand. Inside that enclosure were items that would give an advantage to whoever grabbed them and she needed an edge. She needed the upper hand.

  But once inside the enclosure, the deep shade made everything appear gloomy and unclear, and much as she hated to, Cilla had to pause for precious seconds to let her eyes adjust.

  Then she saw what she wanted, over in the far corner, laid out on a rickety table. The sharp glint of a metal edge gleamed in a stray beam of sunlight. A machete. A fundamental item for survival on this island. As she bounded forwards, already breathing heavily from her run up the beach, she felt another body running alongside her in the same direction. Not daring to look over, she put on an extra spurt of speed.

  Her fingers landed on the wooden handle of the machete a millisecond before the other person’s.

  It was a man, tall and broad, his long tanned fingers lying next to hers on the handle. Touching hers. Cilla stood frozen. Would he use his obvious strength to wrench the large knife away from her? Technically they weren’t allowed to do that, but with such a melee going on in the rest of the arena no one would notice who really got to the knife first.

  She lifted her gaze to search his face, trying to discover whether it held threat or surrender. It contained neither. The only thing registering in his honey-coloured eyes was surprise. He had an open friendly face, with an aquiline nose, topped with short dark hair, mostly hidden by a black cap. He must’ve been on the other boat, she’d have remembered if someone with his good looks had been sitting in her group. And her head had been in such a mess when they’d been giving their names she must’ve missed him at the introduction as well.

  He seemed to be taking equal notice of her. Shaking her head she gritted her teeth. It didn’t matter who he was, or why he was here, at this particular moment he was her sworn enemy.

  His fingers still rested on hers as they both held onto the machete, warm and supple. He could easily tug the blade out of her hand, but he didn’t, and they stood there in mute stalemate.

  Cilla narrowed her eyes and glared at him. She wasn’t letting this go easily. Sure, she was a fair bit smaller than him, her slim form no match for his height or nicely muscled arms flexing beneath his t-shirt. But she knew things, knew how to protect herself. Knew how to get out of trouble.

  Tensing her shoulders, she tightened her grip on the handle, her knuckles going white. Maybe it was this small movement that made him let go, or maybe it was the belligerent look in her eye, but the blade suddenly became hers. The man with the honey-brown eyes took a step back, his gaze fixed and steady on her face.

  Without hesitating, she turned and raced away. She’d spied a snorkel and goggle set over on a large pile of straw when she’d first come in and that became her next single-minded objective.

  ~

  ‘Bloody hell!’ Why had he let that woman have the machete? It’d been his for the taking if he wanted it. Just because she had the greenest eyes he’d ever seen shouldn’t have swayed him in the slightest. Emerald green if he had to pick a colour.

  Tam Connor ran a hand through his cropped hair in exasperation as he watched the back of the woman who’d just stolen his prime piece of property retreat to the other side of the corral.

  Get moving you idiot.

  Tam darted sideways and grabbed the last remaining tool lying on the wooden bench. It was a small trowel. Not nearly in the league of the machete, but at least it was something. Then he turned, looking for anything else he might grab. A low growl emanated from between his teeth. How could he have let that woman get to him like that? She’d managed to take all the wind out of his sails and left him standing there like a stunned child. He squeezed his ey
es shut, trying to pull himself together.

  That was the first and last time he was going to let anyone take advantage of him in this game. Next time he’d hang on for dear life and he wouldn’t care whether it was a man or a woman he was competing against either. If nothing else, this first confrontation had shown him how much he needed to put that chivalrous side of himself away. After all, there was a lot riding on the outcome of this game. A million dollars would change his life.

  An idea occurred to him and he dropped to his hands and knees and peered under the table. Not caring that small sticks and leaves stuck into his skin, he shuffled forwards to stare deeper into the gloom.

  Yes. There was something there, shoved way up the back and almost out of sight. Reaching in he tried to lift it. The item was heavy and his biceps tensed as he dragged it out. A cooking pot, a large one too. Now that was more like it. This might give him more of the clout he needed, after all it was hard to eat uncooked beans or rice.

  ‘You’ve twenty seconds left,’ JJ’s disembodied voice echoed around the enclosure and Tam swore again. He had time to grab one more item, but there wasn’t much left. Everyone else seemed to have their arms full. He spotted shapes hanging on the nearby fence and dragged the heavy pot in that direction. He could see a long coiled rope and a heavy looking sack, both tied at shoulder height to a fence post. Make a choice. Quick. He dived towards the bag, hoping it contained something edible. The knot was tight and his fingers fumbled with the coarse string.

  ‘Time’s up. Everyone back onto the blue mat with your goodies.’

  ‘Woo hoo,’ Tam yelled with glee. He had the bag, and judging by the weight and consistency it felt like it contained rice. He shoved it into the cauldron and dragged them both towards the mat, leaving a smooth trail in the sand behind him.

  ‘So, let’s see what you all got,’ said JJ as they all jostled for a spot on the mat. Tam took a surreptitious glance around. There she was, standing in front and just to the left of him, close enough to touch. Her auburn ponytail bobbed at a jaunty angle as she tossed her head to clear wayward strands of hair away from her face. Was that a nose stud he’d caught a glimpse of back in the corral? It wasn’t uncommon nowadays for girls to have all kinds of piercings. That got him to wondering if there were any more hidden on her body. There was some kind of word tattooed in the bend in her arm as well. What did it say? He was surprised by the thrum of anticipation humming through him at the idea of discovering the answer to that question.