Island Redemption

by Suzanne Cass

  There was no hint of remorse or guilt in her features; she probably hadn’t thought twice about the machete incident. She’d also scored a snorkel and goggle kit, a small bag, which might’ve held fishing gear and a large water canteen. Impressive haul. She’d bring some very helpful items to whichever team she joined. She was very petite. He was tall enough to see clearly over the top of her head. He couldn’t see how she could possibly be hoping to win any of the physical knockouts battles. But then again she’d just secured her first victory of the game, and over him no less. There were other ways to guarantee success rather than brute strength. He’d need to watch her carefully.

  ‘So, as many of you may have guessed, these items you’ve collected may be worth a lot or a little to you in this game.’ JJ fixed them all with his famous stare, his eyes so dark they were almost black in the dim light beneath the trees. ‘These items will become very important to you in the next step of the game, which is sorting out our two teams.’ There were murmurs from behind Tam, but he ignored them. ‘With age comes wisdom and so I’ll be choosing the two eldest contestants to become our temporary team leaders.’ The murmurs became loud exclamations, some of disgust, some of admiration.

  ‘Hands up who thinks they’re the oldest here?’ Four hands went up and JJ sorted out ages and then made two contestants stand on two separate mats off to the right of the group.

  ‘This is Jason Paige.’ JJ pointed to the sturdy, grey haired man with one of the best handlebar moustaches Tam had ever seen standing on the red mat. ‘And this is Alisha Jackson.’ He pointed to large African-American lady on the purple mat. ‘We’re now going to do a school-yard pick to choose teams, taking turns to choose one team member at a time. This choice is going to be made doubly interesting because you can either pick a person for their perceived strength, stamina, good looks or whatever other physical attributes they might have. Or you can pick for the items they’ll bring to the team. But remember it’s up to you which items – if any – you share with the team. The leader will pick the first person, then the second person will pick a third and so on until you have nine members on each team.’

  The connotations of what Tam had just heard were enormous. Now they could be chosen on the merits of their treasure as much as any perceived physical advantages. Of course everyone would share their items. Wouldn’t they? He eyed the three items at his feet. Would they be enough to entice someone to choose him? Scrutinising his competition he knew he was one of the tallest men in this field of eighteen. Lean and strong, he’d hold his own amongst any of these other guys.

  ‘Okay, Alisha, at fifty seven you’re the oldest here by two years. So go ahead and pick your first team member.’

  ‘Um, the really tall guy with the black cap and the cooking pot.’ She pointed excitedly at Tam. Him? Had he really just been chosen first? He couldn’t help give a grin as he walked towards the mat. He was really doing this, he was playing Sea-Quest. It was a dream no longer. Alisha clapped her hands as he approached and then enfolded him in a big bear hug.

  ‘Welcome to my team big guy,’ she said, her teeth white against her chocolate skin.

  ‘I’m Tam.’ He tried to extricate himself out of her embrace but it was a while before she let him go. Then she turned around and started hopping on the spot in anticipation.

  Jason chose his first team member next, pointing at the hulking man with ebony skin and a shaved head. Tam was surprised. He was sure the machete would be a good pulling item, but it was becoming obvious that brawn was winning out over quality of camp life at the moment.

  ‘Right. Tam? Is that right?’ asked JJ. Tam nodded. ‘Okay, your pick next.’

  ‘The girl with the machete.’ Tam pointed straight at the green-eyed girl. ‘Her.’ He’d chosen without even thinking. Gut instinct had taken over. The girl walked towards them, a small smile playing over her lips. Tam couldn’t help but notice her shapely legs as she came across the sand, trim and tanned in cut-off shorts. Alisha enfolded her in an immediate hug. Tam took a step forward, a little more uncertain of his reception.

  She didn’t reach for him, instead, after a few seconds of indecision, she extended her hand for him to shake, while at the same time eying him with distrust. Her slim fingers felt cool and small in his large hand.

  ‘I really just wanted that machete back,’ he said with a playful grin.

  She raised an eyebrow and turned her back on him.

  CHAPTER TWO

  ‘Welcome to camp Dawnbreakers,’ Cilla heard Alisha shout, waving her ample arms to encompass the wide swathe of shoreline. Cilla, still a little distance behind the main group, dumped her backpack on the sand and stopped to take it all in. It was perfect, picturesque. The deserted island beach dreams were made of, and she was going to be fortunate enough to call this home for the next little while. Hopefully weeks and not just days, as long as she could keep from being voted out of the game.

  Simon, the man Cilla had chosen to join their team during the schoolyard pick stopped to join in her admiration, dropping a heavy-looking sack down next to her. His bare arm brushed against hers, and she had to resist the urge to step away. Didn’t this guy know what personal space was?

  ‘Home sweet home, huh?’ He grinned down at her with an expectant air. She’d chosen him because of his build, he looked strong, with well-defined biceps and large, broad shoulders. Cilla hoped he’d come through in the knockouts and use those muscles to the team’s advantage. He had army regulation short hair beneath his Boston Red Sock’s hat, and a large roman nose that dwarfed the rest of his face. Cilla also noticed the tail end of what looked to be a dragon tattoo heading across his chest beneath his tight singlet. Worn in an obvious attempt to show off as much of his bulging torso as possible.

  ‘Yup, we should be quite comfortable here.’ Returning her gaze to the beach, she cast an expert eye over the gentle slope, noting a large flat area just inside the tree line that might make a good spot to build a shelter.

  ‘I hope our team has someone who’s good at building. I don’t do well in the cold or the wet.’

  ‘Oh, really?’ she said, her reply faint, barely disguising her amusement.

  ‘No, I don’t,’ he reiterated. ‘It plays havoc with my metabolism. And I’ll need to find some protein quickly. I need lots of protein. I eat at least every three hours.’

  ‘Umm …’ He did realise he’d just signed up for Sea-Quest right?

  Shaking his head, presumably at some internal considerations over how he was going to keep his strict regime going, he said, ‘I guess, I’d better get over there and give them a hand then. They’re going to need the use of these babies if they want to start building any kind of shelter soon.’ He lifted an arm and flexed one of his biceps alarmingly close to her nose as he spoke, smiling at her as if she’d just been awarded some great honour. Was this guy for real? She was starting to feel just a tad sorry she’d picked him for their team. She half expected him to lean in and kiss his own bicep. He’d better not, she wouldn’t be responsible for her actions if he did.

  Just as he was about to step away, he turned and said casually, ‘You are going to share those goggles around, aren’t you, Cilla? Or are you aiming to be the hero and catch all the fish yourself?’ He laughed as if to lighten the question, but Cilla was taken aback at his astute directness. And at the rapacious gleam she caught in his eye. It seemed that his vain, dim-witted persona was more of a veneer than she’d first been led to believe.

  ‘Of course you can give them a try if you want. Whoever thinks they can catch dinner is more than welcome.’ Cilla kept her tone as even as possible, hiding her surprise. Let him try if he liked, but she’d be shocked if he caught anything. She’d grabbed the snorkel and goggles because she knew they’d help locate fish and other sea-creatures, but they were missing the most important component, a spear. She hoped they might get a chance later on at one of the knockouts to win one. Spear-fishing was something she was very good at, but for now she’d keep that inform
ation under wraps. Knowledge was power in this game, and she wasn’t about to let out too many of her secrets. Not yet.

  ‘What about you? Hopefully you’re going to share some of that sack of beans around too?’

  He gave her a winning playboy-model smile, showing off teeth that were just a little too straight and said, ‘Of course I am, Cilla. A person would have to be plain stupid if they didn’t put the team before themselves out here, wouldn’t they?’

  Yep, she’d definitely underestimated him. She made a mental note not to do that with anyone else in this game.

  Simon picked up the bag as if weighed nothing and marched off towards the others. Picking up her backpack and grabbing the machete from where she’d stuck it into the sand, she started to wander after him. Heading towards their team flag, she could see the word DAWNBREAKERS written in heavy black letters across a purple background. The colour matched the bandanas they’d been given, which they must wear at all times to distinguish their team. JJ had told them Dawnbreaker was a name of a famous pirate ship. The teams on Sea-Quest were always named after pirate ships, it was just another part to the kitschy theme pitched at the reality TV fans. The other team were to be called the Nightramblers. Just as lame a name, if you asked Cilla, but then who was she to pass comment on trashy TV. She’d just sold her soul to become part of that exact same empire. She was here to compete for, and win, one million dollars. The idea still sat uncomfortably on her shoulders, but she’d have to get used to it, and fast. This would be her reality for the next month or so.

  ‘Give us a hand will you?’ a voice drifted to her on the sea breeze. She turned and saw the guy with the cauldron, Tam, rounding the headland behind her, dragging the heavy pot behind him. Cilla hid a smile. He’d made such a big commotion about not needing any help back at the beach. She still hadn’t figured out exactly how she felt about this man. Unsure if she was angry or grateful for letting her have the machete.

  Walking back to where he was struggling with the pot, she looked him up and down. He was a lot taller than her, but that wouldn’t have been hard given her five foot three frame. That made him at least six foot one or two, she guessed. He looked to be of a similar age to her. She’d packed an awful lot of living into her twenty six years, her face shaped by the sun and wind and her outdoor lifestyle, and it always surprised her when people with bland, wrinkle free features who’d lived most of their lives inside turned out to be much older than she was.

  One thing she’d noticed about him when they both reached for the machete was his hands were smooth and well-manicured; definitely a city boy. And those amazing coloured eyes. They were such a pale hazel. Reminding her of butterscotch lollies or honey on toast. He wore a black cap turned backwards, a Mickey Mouse emblem on the front.

  Drawing closer, she noticed his white t-shirt moulding nicely to his shoulders as they flexed with the weight of the heavy pot; the way it drew tight across his flat, masculine chest. Physically the man was the complete package, taut and attractive. In any other situation Cilla would’ve been interested, but not this time. She was here for one reason only.

  ‘Come on, we can carry it between us,’ she said, bending down and grabbing the handle of the cauldron.

  ‘Thanks.’ He gave a smile of appreciation. She took the weight in her left hand and balanced herself by holding the machete in her right. It was heavy. Very heavy, especially with the bag of rice inside as well. They could barely keep it an inch off the ground between them. Respect bloomed for how far he’d managed to drag it on his own. He’d not done such a bad job after all.

  ‘There might be some good caves over there,’ Tam puffed. When she raised an inquiring eyebrow at him, he nodded towards the end of the beach, where tall limestone cliffs reared up. ‘Good for hiding in if our shelter’s not up to scratch,’ he said with an amused tilt of his chin. He had a point. Some of the shelters she’d seen built on the television series hadn’t been very weatherproof, especially in a heavy monsoon downpour. They stopped to stare at the cliffs, dropping the heavy cauldron in the sand.

  ‘You’re right, this area is supposed to be renowned for its caves. Maybe we should do some scouting later,’ she replied.

  ‘Did your research I see.’

  ‘A little.’ She shrugged. ‘Didn’t you?’ He nodded his agreement, still out of breath from lugging the heavy pot. Exactly how far did his knowledge extended? She wasn’t about to tell him that she’d done much more than just research online or in books. She’d sailed these waters, and explored many of the nearby islands. Never actually been on this island before, mind you.

  ‘Have you been to Thailand before?’ She kept her tone light and friendly.

  ‘Nah, this is the first time I’ve been out of the good old US of A. This is all new to me.’ He gave a boyish grin that made her stomach do a strange little flip-flop at the easy-going warmth in his expression. She quashed the feeling straightaway. She wasn’t here to find a relationship, she reminded herself ruthlessly, she was here to save her grandmother from being thrown out on the street.

  ‘But I’ve watched an awful lot of these shows on TV, and made sure I read up on my survival techniques before I came out here. I don’t like to be unprepared for anything,’ he said, narrowing his eyes as he focussed on the cliffs. He was an avid fan then, that was good to know. And methodical too, by the sounds of it. That was also good to know. She liked logical people, they were easier to understand. Unlike people who were unpredictable and unstable. Such as her father.

  ‘Shall we keep going?’ He indicated the group ahead and they bent to retrieve the pot, letting it hang, heavy and solid between them as they walked.

  ‘I hear there’s some kind of hidden lake or lagoon in the middle of this island,’ she said conversationally.

  ‘Really?’ he grunted, swivelling his head to look at her. ‘We should definitely explore that.’ Eagerness lit up his face at the idea. Again her stomach reacted, giving a delighted surge because he also seemed to share her sense of adventure. ‘How far is it? Could we walk there?’

  ‘I’m pretty sure we could get there if we tried,’ she replied. A sudden image of her and Tam walking up a narrow trail, talking and joking appeared in her mind’s eye. It’d be just the two of them, encompassed by the jungle, alone together, intimate. She’d say something witty to him, perhaps turn to catch his eye. He might reach down to touch her face, brush away a stray strand of hair as they laughed. Whoa. What was going on with her today? She had to stop her mind wandering off on its own tangent. His close presence was doing odd things to her hormones … or something. Reigning in her rabid imagination, she tamped a secure lid down on those particular emotions.

  Drawing in a sharp breath, she said, ‘But then again, it depends where on the island our beach is situated.’ She pursed her lips, as if in deep thought, buying time. Then they reached the rest of the gathered team, and she was saved from having to answer him. They dropped the pot onto the sand with a satisfying thud.

  ‘So what do we do first?’ The question came from Glen, a lumpy man in his mid-forties who was permanently pink in the face. He’d been the last person picked for their team. Cilla couldn’t help feeling a tiny bit sorry for him. Then again, she’d do well to remember he was her adversary. ‘Should we start building a shelter? Who knows anything about woodwork or carpentry?’ Glen asked.

  A heated discussion between a few members of the team started, but no decision was forthcoming. She exchanged a glance with Tam, but expression was his closed, giving away nothing.

  Taking the opportunity, she did a mental tour of the rest of her team, putting names to faces. There was Cho, the one who’d broadcast he was going to win Sea-Quest this year. On the walk to their beach, Cilla had overheard him telling Alisha he was of Chinese heritage, but born and bred in the US. Not bad looking, in a softish, geeky kind of way. Then there was Madison, with long blonde hair and sapphire blue eyes. She would’ve been extremely beautiful if it hadn’t been for the permanent sneer on h
er face, or the fact she was now yelling at the rest of them.

  ‘What do you mean, build the shelter on the beach? Of course we have to build it under the cover of the trees. Are you all imbeciles?’ Madison said loudly, cutting a Latino lady off mid-sentence.

  ‘There’s no need to start calling people names,’ replied the Latino woman, gesticulating with her hands to bring her point home. Cilla remembered her name was Paloma. She had gorgeous olive-coloured skin, and carried a few extra pounds on her chunky frame. Cilla could tell by the way she was waving her arms around and not backing away from Madison’s scorn that she had a fair amount of fire to her personality too. ‘I just thought it’d be safer to be out from underneath the trees, so we don’t get a large branch landing on our roof in the middle of a storm,’ Paloma continued. The woman had a point. But the beach was way too exposed, they might get washed away if a big tide combined with a storm. Cilla kept her comments to herself, preferring to watch and listen.

  ‘Look, you both have valid points, so perhaps we should take a vote on it.’ This remark came a short stocky woman with a boyish haircut, who’d stepped between the two women. Cilla couldn’t remember her name. Was it something like Margaret? Miriam?

  Then there were Simon and Tam, both standing in the background not saying much. And finally there was Alisha, the provisional leader of their team. Nine in all.