by Hoff, Stacy
“I guess we’re both having luck. I found an almost dry riverbed down there and all this was scattered about. Now that you’ve got the lighter to work we should be okay.”
“For tonight,” he added.
It was the hard tone of his last two words that drew a shiver through her. “Not too optimistic a guy, are you?” she quipped, doing her best to blow off the ominous tone of his voice.
“Plenty optimistic. If you follow exactly what I say, we’ll be able to get out of here and get the money no problem.”
“Good.” Ana smiled. “Audiences love optimism, and so do I.” She glanced at their basecamp’s camera but didn’t see the red button lit up. “Hmmm.” She walked up to it and held the camera in her hands. “Teleworld says they won’t pay any money even if we do survive if we can’t successfully record this show.” After fiddling a few minutes the video light popped back on and then quickly blinked out again. “What the heck is wrong with this thing?”
“Is the other camera working?”
She looked at the other one. “This light comes on, so I guess so. I hope both of them function okay because it’s not like we can contact anyone to get the plane back.”
Redd laughed. “Right. The only way to get the plane back is to shoot the ‘we give up’ flare, and I’m not doing that.”
“I agree. Since we have at least one camera working, maybe both, let’s take inventory of what we’ve got for the audience, okay?” Not waiting for an answer she gathered up their two backpacks and starting pulling out the contents. “I think you’ll need to explain some of these doohickeys. I’ve got no idea what most of this stuff is.” She plopped herself down on the ground, grateful to have her butt land on the soft springy soil.
She heard Redd let out a short laugh behind her. “Start with what you know. People will no doubt be curious how far you get. Heck, I’m curious how far you get.”
“Fine.” She looked up at the camera and smiled as confidently as she could. “We’ll start by opening my bookbag. Oh, there’s some fabric inside. I bet it’s clothing. Probably ugly. Clothing that wouldn’t fit in too well with my crowd in New York City,” she joked.
“You’re a true New Yorker. You called your backpack a bookbag.” He laughed. “You obviously don’t shop in camping stores. Unless New York’s Fifth Avenue department stores have a camping section?”
Ana scrunched up her face and did her best to ignore him. “I don’t shop in any upscale stores. I look for creative, inexpensive stores. The kind you find in Greenwich Village. I’m a boho who shops in SoHo.”
“A what?” Redd interrupted.
“You heard me,” she answered firmly but felt her face redden. “A bohemian who shops South of Houston Street.” Mark would make her edit out everything if she kept talking stupid like this. Redd gave her an odd look.
“Anyway,” she continued, “even with my non-designer fashion sense, I know clothes.” She pulled out a tightly balled up lump of brown fabric. Tugging on the string that held it, the item unrolled. “A parka,” she exclaimed, holding it up for the camera. “Not my best color, but I’m sure very useful if the weather turns.”
“It’ll turn.”
“Pessimist.” She reached in to drag out a bunch of wool garments. Some looked very big for her size. “How fat does Mark think I am?” she mused, frowning.
“You’re holding the backpack with all the clothes. The larger garments are mine.”
“Oh. What are you carrying in your backpack then?”
“All the equipment we’re allowed. Not much, mind you, but enough to make twelve days out here possible if the weather turns. I told them I wouldn’t do the show without the basics.”
Thank God for that. All she had negotiated for was money—fifty thousand dollars for even attempting the twelve day challenge. Redd was smarter. What good would fifty thousand dollars do if she were dead? The money would go to her parents, but with the million-dollar life insurance policy she had Teleworld take out, they wouldn’t really need it. Besides, her parents wouldn’t want to get any money that way . . .
She reached down further into her backpack and pulled out lightweight fabric bound into a small brick-like shape. “I’m afraid to undo the packaging to find out what this is. Any ideas?”
“It’s either tent covering or ground covering. Hopefully both.”
“It’s awfully lightweight. I’m glad not to have to carry anything heavy, but will this give us warmth if we need it?”
“You’d be surprised,” he answered matter-of-factly. “It’s not the weight but the material that’s important. We need something strong enough to resist wind, waterproof to keep us dry and insulating enough to retain heat.”
Ana internalized the seriousness of his words. If they didn’t have adequate protection from the elements, they’d have a pretty big problem. She dived back into the bag and pulled out a thin packet of wipes. “Oh. These will come in handy I guess. It’s not like there are any sinks around here.”
“Or bathrooms,” Redd added with a smirk.
“You’re not going to scare me off, you know,” Ana shot back. She added under her breath, “Not that I’m looking forward to peeing in the great outdoors.” Then a thought hit her. “To be honest, I’m surprised Teleworld’s not making us use leaves to . . . er . . . clean up.”
Redd gestured around them. “That’s because there are no leaves. Given that fact, I’m sure they wanted us to look clean for the camera.” Redd winked at the camera. Clearly enjoying her discomfort.
“Sounds peachy.” She turned back to her backpack and pulled out some plastic. Her face scrunched up in confusion. “Ziploc baggies?”
“I’ll explain those when you need to know.” She was obviously about to argue with him, so he held up his hand in a “stop” motion. “Trust me on this one. Some things you need to be gradually pushed into.”
“Er, okay.” She cleared her throat and looked into the camera. “Well, folks, that’s all I have in here. So we’ve got some clothes and tent materials, plus our rolled up sleeping bag we’d slung on the outside of our packs. And our rifle.” She was about to put the backpack down when she felt something cylindrical inside. “Wait, there’s something else in here.” She pulled out a small canister. “Pepper spray?” She frowned. “That’s crazy. We’re not going to get mugged all the way out here.”
Redd let out a sharp laugh. “That’s not for muggers. It’s to protect us against bears.”
She looked at him straight on. “I don’t believe you.”
“It’s true. Bears don’t like getting sprayed with this stuff anymore than people do.”
Ana paused for a minute. “I don’t even carry pepper spray when I ride the subways. This will be a first.”
“There are a few things to know about using pepper spray out here. One, make sure the wind is not blowing when you use it or you could make yourself even more vulnerable by immobilizing yourself. Pretty painfully I might add.”
“Ooooh. That sounds bad.”
“Even worse, if the pepper spray is old, the petroleum in the spray will actually attract the bears.”
“Ironic,” she said stiffly.
“Yep. See if the can has an expiration date.”
Ana flipped the can upside down and read the tiny print. “It says it’s good for another full year.”
“Excellent. Be sure to carry the can around with you at all times.”
“Well, I guess using this nasty stuff would be better than shooting them. I’d hate to kill anything.”
“Me, too. If we did, we’d have to bail on the show.”
“What? Why?”
“Because the law says if we kill a bear, even in self-defense, we have to return the carcass immediately to the Park Rangers.”
“Oh. So now I’ve got two reas
ons to not want to kill a bear.”
“Right. Is that everything in the bag?”
Plunging her arm in again, she felt around for any remains. The two items left were pulled out one at a time. “Another gun? I thought they were giving us only the rifle. And here’s a box, too.”
“It’s the flare gun. In the box is the flare itself.”
They were silent for a minute. “Yeah, well, we won’t be needing that,” Ana said with a toughness she didn’t quite feel.
“Sure. Being out here will be a cakewalk. No, easier than that. A cupcake walk. With lots of frosting.”
“Fantastic. I love frosting,” she deadpanned. Was the man grinning? Who could tell?
“I’m more of a raspberry filling kind of guy, myself. But since there are no bakeries out here, perhaps we should see what I’ve got in my backpack.”
“Good a plan as any.” She waited for him pull out the first item.
“Okay,” Redd confirmed. “Time for show and tell. For us, and our television audience alike.” He glanced at her and she gave him an encouraging nod. “This is a multi-tool,” he explained, taking out a small, yet bulky looking black metal oval. “This works like a Swiss Army Knife. You pull out the type of blade or tool you need.” He grabbed hold of the oval and pulled out the different components one by one. “Knife blade with a straight edge. Knife with a filet edge. Scissors. Pointed metal rod to poke holes. And lastly, a mini-saw head.”
Ana felt her face crunch up. The kinds of tools that were included sounded great but they were so small. How effective could anything that size be? “Are those going to be helpful?”
“Should be.” His voice sounded less sure. Was he being dramatic for the cameras, or were they potentially screwed? She was about to ask him when he continued with the items in his backpack.
‘I’ve got a small pot,” he said, holding it up. “It’s critical to be able to boil water out here.”
“Hot water will be very soothing. Especially when the weather drops,” she agreed.
“Yes, but I was referring to boiling water so we don’t drink parasites. You never know if an animal died in the river and all the bacteria is floating around.”
“Oh. Then it’s good the network allowed us to have it.”
“They didn’t want to. It was part of my agreement. There were certain items I wasn’t going to budge on.”
“Oh,” she said again, thinking she’d have to cut this part out of the footage if she wanted to keep her job.
“The Park Service also forced Teleworld’s hands.” He held up a small container. It was about the size of an interoffice memo and a few inches wide. “World’s smallest bear-proof food container. Bears can smell food for miles around. If you don’t keep your food locked up they’ll find it. And you.”
Ana gulped hard and pushed the thought away.
“I’ve got the tent rods in here,” Redd continued. “That’s good.”
Ana felt herself relax at the sound of optimism resonating in his voice. “Super. It should save us a lot of effort on finding more wood.”
“Oh, that’s not why I’m happy, although you certainly have a point. I’m glad because using any of the existing tent frameworks found here, even the old campsite stones, is against the law and would be an insult to the native tribes who live here.”
“People actually live out here?” she asked, eyes wide. “In Gates of the Arctic National Park. How—”
“They sure do. It’s their tradition. There are quite a few remote homes out here. These people practice subsistence living. They wouldn’t want to live any other way. Don’t you have your own traditions you want to hang on to?”
“Not in a survival kind of way. Unless you consider taking the D train into Manhattan every morning a survival activity.” Whoops. I’ll have to edit this out. I forgot I’m supposed to live in Manhattan.
“Funny,” he said straight-faced. “Don’t make light of what these people go through to keep their traditions alive. You’ll never know how hard it is for them.”
Ana felt her forehead scrunch up. Why was he being so moody? “Let me guess,” she said sourly, “you know what they go through, right?”
“Yes.”
Ana felt her eyes grow round. “You’re native?” she asked quietly.
“No, but I’ve lived out here. Many years ago, before my time in the military.”
Afraid to interrupt the flow of words from this taciturn man, Ana sat in silent anticipation.
“My father moved out here,” Redd said softly, “when I was little so he could pan for gold. Back in those days, people could still find some with relative ease. I’d visit my dad some summers, and we’d camp along the riverbeds where he’d pan.”
Ana nodded. “Go on.”
“There’s nothing else to say about it. Other than, I know how volatile things can be out here, like surviving the night.” He looked up at the still-sunny sky. “It’s not dark, I know, but trust me, it can still get plenty cold. Let me show you the best way to start a campfire. That way if something happens to me you’ll know what to do until the plane comes back.”
Ana winced.
“You know, that reminds me,” Redd added. “I should also explain to you how to fire this gun.” Redd smiled grimly as he held the shotgun up to the one working camera. “If a bear wants to attack you, firing this gun may be the only chance you’ll have to live to tell the tale.”
She gulped hard.
“I hope you’re a good shot,” he added. “You’ll need to be since we were only given two bullets.”
Ana twitched.
Silence permeated the air until Redd changed the topic. “Well, it looks like that’s everything we’ve got packed.”
“It can’t be,” Ana sputtered. “Where’s the dried food they promised?”
“They promised food? Not to me they didn’t. In any case, there’s obviously none here.”
“Why that lying sack of s—” She cut herself off, along with the camcorder. “I think I’m going to have a chat with Mark when I get back.”
If I get back.
Chapter 11
Redd fell silent as he tended the campfire. Ana had a way of making him say more than he wanted to. Much more. Silence was golden as far as he was concerned. Who wanted to talk about their tortured past? Certainly not him. If she kept up her questions and that sympathetic look on her face, the next thing he knew he’d be blubbering about Hailey. Good thing he’d stopped Ana in her tracks with his comment about bears and guns. As an added benefit, maybe she’d realize just how dangerous a situation they were in.
Redd tightened his lips in resolve. Special Ops had successfully trained him to withstand water boarding torture should he ever be captured. If he could remain silent in the face of an enemy, what challenge could a small, bohemian New York City woman pose? Not much. After getting a healthy dose of his steady silence she would eventually give up with her persistent questions.
But was Ana really the enemy? She seemed genuinely interested in him. Heck, from her continued stares when he was singing at the bar, she seemed to be really interested in him. He could understand the attraction, since he was experiencing it himself. But he wasn’t going to do anything about it. His job was to see her safely through this wilderness. He would not get distracted from his goal. He knew only too well what happened when he took his eye off the ball. Damned if he’d make the same mistake again.
Maybe being out here, alone with tempting Ana, was some kind of penance for his failure to take care of Hailey. If so, the penance was well crafted. Watching Ana, especially with the firelight making her dark brown hair gleam pretty red highlights, was not a good idea. Not if he wanted to remain aloof to her. The more attractive she became the more he knew he’d be tempted to open up to her—an unacceptable outcome.
Stiffening his back, he forced himself to concentrate on what was important. He had to admit, their campsite looked pretty good for last-minute construction with limited tools and equipment. The dome-like tent was built. Small, not much bigger than the two sleeping bags that were inside, resting on the cloth groundcover.
Having such a small tent space was both good and bad. The good news was that smaller square footage would be easier to keep warm. The bad news was that it would place him in direct proximity with her. With no escape. Where would he go? Sleep under the stars, exposed to the elements? Not. Awkward was definitely better than dead.
Speaking of deadly, he had loaded the shotgun and put it next to his sleeping bag. But since they hadn’t eaten at the campsite yet, the threat of bears this evening was low.
“I can’t believe it’s almost ten o’clock at night,” Ana said, looking up from the wristwatch she’d borrowed from Devon. “I’m exhausted but don’t know if I can sleep with all this light.”
“Sure you can. The tent will block out the sky. The hood of the sleeping bags cover most of your face. They’re mummy-style.”
Ana burst out laughing. “Excellent. I want my mummy!”
It was hard for him not to laugh along with her. He tightened his lips to stop himself. “Unless your mummy carries a shotgun, the bears won’t be too impressed,” he said in a serious tone.
“Is it safe to go to sleep?” she asked more soberly.
“We’ll be fine tonight.”
“Okay. Then I guess we should go to bed.” A streak of red stained her cheeks. Redd felt himself get hot too, although not from embarrassment. He shook off his inappropriate thoughts and returned to business-mode.
“Um, maybe it’s time for me to test out the bathroom situation,” she said tentatively.
