Island Redemption

by Suzanne Cass

  ‘Cool hat by the way.’ It didn’t feel like Marg had even drawn breath between one topic of conversation and the next. ‘What is that on the front, Mickey Mouse? Did you steal it from your nephew or something? Oh, or maybe you have a kid of your own. Have you been to Disneyland before?’

  Which question did he answer first? Tam reached up and ran a finger lightly over the Mickey emblem. Yes, this hat meant a lot to him, in ways he wasn’t sure how to explain to Marg. But in the time it took to consider how best to answer the myriad of questions, Marg had dropped that subject and was onto the next one.

  ‘You don’t mind if I go first do you? I’m bursting!’ Without even waiting for a reply, Marg popped behind the screening bushes they’d left around the toilet for privacy, leaving Tam feeling more than a little uncomfortable standing on the other side.

  The incongruity of the situation didn’t stop Marg from talking, however. ‘My partner would die if she saw me now, peeing in a hole in the middle of the jungle.’ Marg let out a hearty laugh of self-depreciation. ‘Lucy, she’s my partner, didn’t want me to come on this show. She’s a lot more timid than I am, there’s no way she could do this. She won’t even go camping with me. I was saying to her, just before I left – ARGHHH!’

  Tam rushed forward at the ear-splitting scream.

  ‘What is that goddamn thing?’ Marg dashed around the bush, still pulling her shorts up and pointing back towards the ground. Tam made his way cautiously to the spot Marg was pointing at. There was huge, alien-looking bug, crouched in amongst the leaf litter.

  ‘Jesus,’ he replied in disgust. Then taking a closer look he said, ‘I think it might be something called a cicada.’ He didn’t let the relief show on his face, not wanting to humiliate the woman. He’d been expecting some huge spider or scorpion, or one of the other deadly insects that lived on the island he’d read up on in the past month. ‘They’re harmless, although this one is quite large.’ He let it crawl on his hand and held it up for Marg to see. ‘These are the things that make that incessant noise all night, like a very loud, broken orchestra.’

  ‘Awesome.’ Marg came up to have a closer look. ‘Don’t get many bugs in Canada either,’ she admitted with a wide smile.

  Tam put the large cicada onto the trunk of a tree and went around the bush to relieve himself. When he emerged again, he found Marg staring thoughtfully up into the branches of a coconut palm.

  ‘We need to learn how to climb these, so we can get us some coconuts,’ she said, running a hand through her cropped hair. ‘Have you got any ideas?’

  ‘I think it’s better if you have a rope. We should probably wait until we get back to camp.’

  ‘Awesome. Well you can show me how to do it. I’ve always wanted to get my own coconuts, you know like Gilligan on Gilligan’s Island.’

  Tam laughed along with the blond woman. He’d loved that show too.

  ‘Shall we go back and see what’s for breakfast?’ Marg turned her sandalled feet back towards the path. Tam watched Marg’s impressive thighs flex while she walked. He found himself almost having to break into a jog to keep up with her.

  As they walked, his mind roamed back to last night, when Cilla had lain at his back, cold, wet, and shaking like a leaf. When he could no longer put up with listening to her chattering teeth he’d pushed her over and taken her spot. He’d been cold out on the edge, but hadn’t suffered nearly as much as she’d seemed to. Common sense dictated that he should’ve left her out there. But he was beginning to see it wasn’t so easy to separate the game from decent human morals and emotions. The last thing he wanted was to get entangled with the people he was competing against. But that might be harder than he first anticipated. If it came down to the crunch though, he hoped he could put his need to win over any need to be popular or liked.

  CHAPTER THREE

  ‘Everyone come in and line up on your mats.’ JJ beckoned both teams down onto the beach. Cilla followed the rest of Dawnbreakers out from underneath the shade of a coconut palm into the blistering sun. She had to squint; the light and heat reflecting from the white sand was so fierce she couldn’t see a thing. Sunglasses were a must for any sailor to protect their eyes from the sea, sun and sand. But they were considered a luxury on Sea-Quest and therefore not allowed.

  Standing in the burning rays she was grateful she’d worn a white t-shirt over her bikini. At least the capped sleeves would protect her shoulders from sunburn. Her gaze fell on two of the other women, Madison and Paloma, both wearing skimpy bikinis. Even with sunscreen on, they’d suffer later. Although Cilla’s bright orange swimwear might rival theirs for colour, they were much more practical, in the form of a sports crop-top and cut-off shorts. Cilla felt safe, knowing her choice of swimwear, while not sexy or seductive, would see her through any knockout battle JJ might throw at them.

  The four men had removed their shirts, exposing bare torsos. She guessed they would also learn the hard way, especially Glen whose lily-white skin would soon go as red as a beetroot. Simon might fare a little better. He already had a golden glow to his skin. The tan looked so even Cilla was tempted to believe it might not all be a product of natural sunlight. Tam had tan-lines on his arms and neck, as if he spent time out in the sun but with a shirt on. Although his chest and back were pale she was impressed by the definition in his shoulders and the way his pecs flexed as he gestured to Glen during their discussion. Yep, she could definitely spend a whole lot more time looking at him.

  ‘Welcome to your first knockout battle.’ Cilla’s heart skipped a beat at JJ’s words. Anticipation had tied her stomach in knots all morning. This was it, their team’s reputation was about to be put on the line. They needed to win this knockout. She needed them to win this knockout.

  ‘I hope your swimming skills are all up to scratch, as well as your skills of deduction, because you’re going to need both of them for this knockout.’

  Cilla surveyed JJ’s face as he spoke. There were no tell-tale signs, nothing to indicate what he thought of each team’s abilities. His gaze measured them both with the same equanimity, his arresting brown eyes sparkling from beneath his fedora. The dimple in his left cheek was on full show today, dark skin accentuating his white teeth. Was he a nice guy, or not? The verdict still wasn’t in as far as Cilla was concerned.

  ‘Six members from each team will race over a series of obstacles out to that boat.’ Everyone’s gaze followed JJ’s pointing finger; to a tiny canoe that sat over one hundred metres, bobbing out in the ocean.

  ‘You’ll untie the boat and paddle it back to shore, bringing the bags of puzzle pieces you’ve collected on the way. Your three remaining team members will use those puzzle pieces to assemble a well-known saying. The first team to assemble their puzzle and use it to raise their flag gets an exemption.’ JJ made it sound easy. Cilla knew it would be far from that. They needed that exemption. It meant they wouldn’t have to go to the conclave tonight, where someone would be the first person to be voted out of the game.

  ‘I’ll give you a few minutes to strategise,’ said JJ. That was their cue to decide who was going to do what. Cilla thought she knew her own strengths and weaknesses, but would the rest of her team acknowledge theirs?

  ‘So Dawnbreakers, you have fire, is that right?’ JJ’s question caught them all off-guard and the whole team stopped talking at once. The members of team Nightrebels went still as statues too, waiting for their answer. Fire was a huge advantage this early on in the game.

  Alisha answered for them, ‘Yes, that’s right, JJ.’ She shot a triumphant glance over at the other team. ‘Cho was able to help us with that.’ Alisha didn’t elaborate, and Cilla was glad she hadn’t given away their methods. Cho managed to start a fire this morning, using Glen’s reading glasses as a magnifying glass, concentrating a spot of sunlight onto a handful of dry coconut husk. After many false starts and much frustration – the wood was still damp because of the continuous rain – they finally had a blazing fire. It was well banked and should stil
l be smouldering when they returned to camp.

  Cho didn’t know it yet, but she was indebted to him. She’d been debating whether to show them how to light a fire her way. Using two dry pieces of wood and lots of friction. Her lifestyle, living on-board her yacht, often dropping anchor in any bay or harbour that took her fancy, had helped provide her with much of the knowledge for this game. But she’d be keeping that titbit to herself for as long as possible.

  ~

  ‘Come on Paloma, you can do it,’ Tam shouted, encouraging the struggling Latino woman. ‘That’s right, climb up like it was a step ladder. Make sure your hands have a good hold first, before you move your feet.’ He kept his voice steady, but inside he was seething and he had to resist the growing urge to yell at her. This was only the first obstacle and Paloma couldn’t seem to get her body over it. Her hands were all tangled in the heavy ropes of the net and she hung like a limp jellyfish, as if there was no strength in her muscles.

  The other four team members chosen to do the swimming option had gone on ahead, helping Glen swim the distance to the next obstacle. Glen was their weakest swimmer and they’d all thought he’d be the one slowing them down. They might’ve been wrong on that count. Tam had told them he’d stay with Paloma. Now he was standing in chest deep water on the other side of the ten-foot high net barrier, his stomach churning with impatience.

  Alisha, Cho and Madison stood on the beach yelling at Paloma; most of the comments were encouraging, but Tam could hear Madison’s remarks becoming less helpful by the second. They’d volunteered themselves to do the puzzle section of the knockout. He hoped they were as good as they purported themselves to be. These knockouts were often won or lost on the final few seconds.

  Paloma hauled herself the last few rungs up the net and flung her body over the top of the metal bar.

  ‘Well done, Paloma. You can just let go now and jump into the water.’ Tam thought he heard her mutter something in Spanish under her breath as she continued her painstaking climb down the other side. Probably cursing, but whether it was directed at him or the teammates on the beach, he had no way of knowing. He had to restrain himself from jumping up and pulling the woman into the water. Then he remembered she had four kids and a husband waiting for her at home. The thought should’ve made him more solicitous towards her, but she was definitely trying all of his patience right now.

  As soon as she lowered herself down next to him, Tam started swimming towards the next obstacle – two pontoons connected by a narrow plank. He could see Glen inching his way across, one foot in front of the other, arms windmilling out to the sides. Marg and Simon were already on the other side, cheering him on. Cilla trod water near the first platform, waiting, her water-dark head bobbing with the rise and fall of the waves.

  ‘Try not to touch the platform until Glen gets to the other side,’ Cilla said, just as he was about to reach up and hang off the ropes. ‘It makes it harder to balance on the plank,’ she added with an apologetic lift to the corner of her mouth. Tam trod water and waited his turn. At least Paloma was a good swimmer. She’d made up a little time, but not much. The Nightrebels weren’t having nearly as much trouble. They were already halfway to the third obstacle, swimming as a group and looking strong together.

  Glen made it to the other pontoon and turned back to give them a gleeful wave.

  ‘Right, you go next Paloma,’ Tam directed. He gave her a push up to help her onto the pontoon, his hand placed firmly on her backside. Tam was surprised when Paloma started to make the crossing in record time. Paloma was great at balancing it seemed.

  He floated with Cilla in the aquamarine water while they waited for Paloma to make the crossing.

  ‘You can go now, I’ll come over last,’ he said.

  ‘Oh, really?’ There was an edge to her question he didn’t quite understand, making him hesitate a fraction before answering. He wasn’t about to start ordering her around, but they needed to work together as a team to get through this.

  ‘I just want to make sure the whole team gets there as soon as possible.’

  She didn’t answer, but her narrowed eyes suggested she thought she’d be the judge of that. Was she going to argue with him? Perhaps she hadn’t really forgiven him for the machete incident after all. He thought he’d more than redeemed himself the other night when he’d kept her warm. But who knew what went on in women’s minds.

  Paloma was nearly across, so Cilla hauled herself up onto the platform, giving one final glance in his direction. The urge to put his hand on her backside and give her a push was great, but he stopped himself just in time. If she didn’t appreciate being told what to do, how would she take having his hand on her arse?

  He watched Cilla as she made her way over the beam, using her arms to help her balance, her bare feet feeling their way along. She’d said she was a sailor. He could imagine her doing the same on the plunging deck of a yacht at sea. This was probably an easy obstacle for her.

  Watching her making the crossing, Tam found himself considering Cilla’s legs. She had wonderful legs. Not long, but definitely toned and well-proportioned, leading up to a very fine arse indeed. That thought made him remember how her extremely nice rear-end had felt jammed up against his thighs the other night, when he’d swapped places with her. It’d made it damn near impossible to sleep. Every time she’d twitched or shuffled in her sleep he’d found himself becoming hyper aware of her all over again.

  Yep, she was more than just a little mesmerising. He’d have to watch himself, take care this … thing he had for her didn’t overwhelm him. Keep in mind the one reason, the only reason he was here.

  She was just a tad intriguing though, self-sufficient and down to earth. A no-nonsense type of person. What would her life be like living on a boat, always transient, moving from place to place, harbour to harbour on a whim? Ephemeral. Free. Not a life for him, that was for certain. He needed the grounding of somewhere permanent to live, and he liked the noise and bustle of the city. He’d only been on the island for three days, but the quiet, slow rotation of life out here, although soothing, would eventually stifle him with its sheer simplicity.

  Raising his awareness from his inner musings, he saw Cilla was nearing the end of the beam and he readied himself to go.

  The next obstacle was easy in theory, but not so in practice. Each of them had to duck-dive down along a rope held in place by a red buoy and retrieve a bag of puzzle pieces tied to the rope. Some of the bags were deeper than others, but the rules stipulated they all had to grab one bag each. And Glen was struggling with that. He wasn’t a great swimmer in the first place, so diving and holding his breath while untying a fiddly knot was almost beyond him. Tam ground his teeth together, keeping control of his temper.

  ‘You’re nearly there Glen, come on, one more dive and you’ve got this. The knot is just hanging there now.’ Cilla used a calm tone to keep Glen focussed. Tam felt anything but calm. She was doing a much better job than he was. She had her hand under his armpit, half-supporting him as he wallowed in the water. The man was almost hyperventilating, dragging in great gasps of air. A twinge of compassion went through Tam. Even though the man was practically useless he did seem to be trying as hard as he could.

  Tam swum up and lent his support to Glen’s other arm.

  ‘Take a few seconds, get your breath back, you won’t do us any good if you pass out.’ Tam tried to make his words sound sympathetic. Cilla threw him a grateful glance. The sparkling light reflected off the water, making her green eyes seem to glow even more like emeralds.

  ‘I’m good now,’ Glen said, his plump cheeks wobbling as he nodded his head. ‘I’ll give it another go.’ He sucked in a huge gulp of air and disappeared beneath the waves. Tam and Cilla floated together, waiting for the second time that day. A long silence stretched between them. As a rule, Tam never found it hard to start a conversation with a woman. He always had something witty or intelligent to say. But out here, the woman with brilliant green eyes seemed to erase
all thoughts from his mind. She must think he was an imbecile, or rude, or both.

  ‘Got it!’ Glen’s triumphant face emerged, streaming water, the bag held high.

  ‘Great work, let’s go then.’ Tam turned Glen towards the small canoe, another twenty metres further out and started towards it. The other three had already clambered into the boat, but they weren’t allowed to start paddling until all six of them were in. Nightrebels were three quarters of the way back to the beach in their canoe. Dammit. They were going to lose this knockout.

  ‘Come on Glen, we have to pick up the pace. Give me your bag so you can use both arms for swimming.’ Tam’s movement through the water slowed now he was hampered by Glen’s heavy bag of puzzle pieces. But he still wasn’t as slow as Glen. ‘Try turning on your back and sculling backwards,’ he suggested. Glen reminded him of a great white whale as he did a slow ponderous turn onto his back. Their pace increased, but not as much as he’d hoped.

  Cilla swam on the other side of Glen, breast stroking slow and steady, not out of breath in the slightest. She was a good swimmer. A very good swimmer. She appeared to glide through the water with no effort, even impeded as she was by her heavy puzzle bag. Tam would have to remember that bit of information. It might come in handy when they were competing one on one.

  Everything about Cilla seemed to be pragmatic. Even her bikini looked more like sports-wear than swimwear, a sensible Lycra crop-top and little shorts. She looked better in that functional swimsuit than either Madison or Paloma did in their ridiculously tiny bikinis. Now she was wearing a white t-shirt over her bathers, but Tam could still remember the sight of her strolling down the beach this morning, legs striding out, tight swim shorts highlighting her pert bottom, showing off her flat, toned stomach to best advantage.

  Concentrate on swimming, idiot.

  Sooner than he thought, they reached the boat and the other three were hauling Glen in and taking the bags from Tam. Pulling himself into the small canoe, which rocked precariously as he swung his leg over the side, he took his seat in the bow. Shaking water from his hair he tried to slow his breathing. The swim, laden with two bags had been more taxing than he imagined. Cilla landed on the seat beside him, water flowing from her hair and clothes.