by Hoff, Stacy
“Take the packet of disposable wipes and find a nice place. Don’t worry about me seeing you, I’ll be in the tent.” He almost laughed again as her cheeks were now totally red. “You said you could handle it.”
“I said that when the cameras were rolling. I lied. So sue me.”
“You’ll be fine. It’s simply a fact of life out here. Unless you can find a nearby Seven Eleven?”
“Funny,” she said tightly.
“Oh, and don’t forget this,” he said, handing her the pepper spray. “And this,” he added, handing her a Ziploc bag.
“If I keep the pepper spray in the Ziploc, won’t it slow me down if I’m attacked?”
Redd shook his head. “Nope. The plastic bags are not to hold the spray.”
“I don’t get it.”
“You’ve got to leave no trace behind.”
When she still gave him a blank look he tried explaining again. “You’ve got to carry out everything you carry in.”
“Oh my. You don’t mean used toilet paper has to be carried out, too?”
“Yep. Or you could burn it in the fire.”
“But won’t that, you know, smell?”
“There’s no way to get rid of our waste that’s ideal. Try one way, and the next time try the other if it makes you feel better. Oh, and don’t forget, don’t relieve yourself near the streams. It pollutes them. And for anything really nasty you need to do, be sure to dig a hole a couple of inches deep first.” He handed her one of the big sticks but she shook her head.
“Er, thanks, but I won’t have to dig a hole now.”
Redd decided to be kind and leave her to her horror in peace. If she got any whiter she’d blend right into an Arctic blizzard. He bent low to enter the tent and made himself at home. Somehow he doubted she could ever feel that way here. It was a helluva long way from New York.
This had to be a joke, Ana thought sourly. It had to be. She couldn’t believe she’d have to carry out her own used disposable wipes. She didn’t consider herself prissy, but man, this was reaching a whole new level of uncivilized.
But as uncomfortable as that thought was, the thought of sleeping with Redd was even more uncomfortable. No, not sleeping with Redd, but sleeping next to Redd, she corrected herself. But in a tent the size of a toothpick, the distinction made little difference. Awkward.
Her feelings about spending the night with him were mercurial. Redd was handsome and obviously a protector. Those qualities were highly desirable. But Redd had a brooding side, too. One that clearly stated, in bold red font, “Go away.” Would he resent being forced to stay with someone who, quite literally, could not leave him? And would her being bound to him tonight set him further on edge tomorrow?
Back at the campsite she was going to find out quickly. She threw the little Ziploc into a makeshift garbage bag and hurried inside the tiny tent. The entrance flap closed behind her.
“How’s the weather out there?” Redd was rubbing his hands together, no doubt in an attempt to warm them. The speed at which the temperature outside had dropped was remarkable.
“Let’s just say I’m not confused we’re in the Arctic.”
“Look on the bright side. If we came out here a few weeks from now, you’d have more heat but you’d have swarms of mosquitos, too.”
“No way. Not this far north.”
He nodded. “There are more mosquitos up here during the summer, density-wise, than the Equator. Seriously. It’s a fact that should appear in Ripley’s. Alaska’s mosquitos put the Tropic’s to shame. Not just in quantity but in quality.”
She shot him a look. “Now I know you’re teasing. People don’t rate mosquito quality. They’re pests, not fine wine.”
He barked out a short laugh. “Well, you’d whine if you saw them. They’re super-sized out here. Alaskans jokingly refer to them as the state bird.”
She felt her knees grow weak. “I don’t want to see one.”
“Out here they don’t carry disease. At least not typically. That’s what I mean when I say they’re better in quality. But you’d still need to walk around in a full-on mosquito netting.”
“Then I’m surprised Teleworld didn’t wait a few more weeks to film. I would have thought Mark would have loved to see me walk around with a fishnet stocking thingy over my face. Give the audience an easy laugh.” She leaned over to take the smaller camcorder off the floor and pressed the ‘on’ button. “Speaking of filming, might as well get some taping in.” She sighed.
If Redd was annoyed to have the camera on him he didn’t show it. “Summer or no summer, I’m glad I took the rocks from the fire and put them in the tent to warm things up. Don’t touch them,” he warned, pointing to a little space he’d made off to the side of the tent.
“Great, thank you. It is warmer in here. I’m glad to be back inside.”
“I’m glad you’re back, too. I can’t have you continue to wander off until I teach you how to use the gun and convince you to take it with you. I don’t trust pepper spray.”
“I’ll be okay without the gun. I may not know about mosquitos but I studied up on how to handle wild bears on the plane ride.” She would have taken the little book with her if the show allowed it.
“Oh, really?” Redd asked, eyebrow arched. “Do tell.”
“Never surprise a bear,” Ana prattled off. “Be double careful by dense brush or by rivers where the sound of running water masks the sound of a person’s approach. Should I see a bear, let it know I’m there by making a loud racket. Shouting, singing, making whooping noises, whatever.”
“Very good,” Redd acknowledged. “What else?”
“If a bear approaches me, don’t flee. They can run up to thirty miles an hour so they can’t be outrun. They climb and swim faster than a person, too. The best course of action is to slowly veer far away from the bear, giving the animal a lot of space.”
Redd nodded his approval. “Keep going.”
“If a bear notices me, or comes toward me, stand tall and speak in a low, clear voice. Wave my arms above my head.”
“You have been studying up. Good job. Anything else?”
She scrunched up her face. “That’s all I know. What else is there?”
“When a bear charges at you, it’s usually just bluffing,” he added.
“Bluffing? What’s it trying to do? Play poker?”
He let out a sharp laugh. “They bluff charge. They’ll run head first in your direction but then usually stop when they’re about ten feet away. Just stay calm and you’ll be fine.”
“A four hundred pound bear charges at me and you want me to keep calm because it’ll stop ten feet away?”
“Yes.” He paused. Maybe he should close the logic loop on this one. “If the bear keeps charging though, you’ll have to shoot it.”
“So I have to wait until it’s within ten feet of me, and see if it keeps going, before I can shoot it?”
“Well, yes. To comply with the rules of the Park. You have to be certain you’re being attacked. Besides, like I said, if we do kill a bear we have to fire the flare so we can immediately give the carcass to the park rangers.” Given her scrunched up face, she didn’t seem too happy about any of this. Maybe he should try to make her feel better. “On the bright side, you’ll have a much better chance hitting the target at such close range.”
“Oh, so it’s no problem then. Piece of cake.”
“Good. Then we both stand a shot of surviving.”
Ana frowned deeper. “What does that mean? If we’re both attacked by a bear, only you would definitely escape?”
“No. Quite the opposite. If you got attacked I’d have to make sure you escaped. That would leave me up against a deadly, abnormally aggressive bear. Hoping to God I don’t die.”
Ana knew she
should cringe at the horrible image. And yet she felt warmed by his words. He did want to protect her. No matter what was going on with Redd’s volatile mood, it seemed a part of him did care. She found herself being very attracted to that part of him. Suddenly, being in the small tent seemed very warm indeed.
“I think we’d better get some sleep,” he said. “We’ve had a heck of a day. I doubt tomorrow will be any less eventful.”
“Sure, let’s sleep.” Ana turned the camcorder off and slid into her mummy-like sleeping bag. “I feel like King Tut.”
“Don’t worry. This is a tent, not a tomb.”
Ana cringed. How was she supposed to go to sleep with a funeral image in her mind?
Despite being bone tired, Redd decided to go outside the tent for a little while. Long enough for her to be asleep when he finally did crawl back in to take his place next to her. Not because he didn’t want to talk to her, but because he did. The best way not to open up to a woman was not to be around one. Otherwise, who knew what would come blubbering out of his mouth? Who wanted to hear a sob story about a dead sister? And even if Ana did want to hear it, he didn’t want to talk about it. Ana was a dialogue vacuum, sucking all the conversation out of him. Like a Hoover, Ana had her own powerful force. Something about her seemed as determined as all get-out. Instead of joining Teleworld, she should have joined the Marines. Ana would have the terrorists talking in no time.
Redd caught himself almost smiling at that thought. Almost. God knew he wasn’t a ha-ha chuckle kind of guy. But the thought of Special Ops Ana was pretty amusing. The handcuffed, snarling enemy in a windowless room, ready to attack. Until Ana walked in, her big, sincere doe eyes looking at him in a “tell me about it” kind of way. The enemy then turning to putty in her hands. Spilling his guts. And then pledging allegiance to the United States of America. Yes, terrorists would be toast around her. He could only hope he wouldn’t suffer the same fate. So far, his resolve to keep her shut out was failing big time.
He stood outside the tent so long he stopped noticing the temperature drop. The fire long since gone. Deciding not to take any chances, he carefully poured dirt over the remains. This was the longest he could stall—it was time to go to sleep.
He crawled into his sleeping bag as stealthily as he could. Years of training had him gliding into the bag with relative ease. In his entire career, the enemy had never spotted his clandestine movements and Ana was certainly no match—
“Redd?” Ana called out, and then turned herself around in her tightly fit cocoon. At least he thought she turned around. His ears had to substitute for his eyes. The tent itself was dark, despite there being dim sunlight outside.
After Redd’s surprise at waking her, a shot of annoyance flashed through his mind. “I thought you were asleep,” he barked. Geez, calm down. It’s not her fault I’ve lost my stealthy touch. “Go back to sleep,” he said more gently.
“I wish I could, but my bed is thousands of miles away in Brooklyn.”
He tried hard not to smile. For being half-asleep, Ana was pretty quick. “Pretend you’re there. Go back to sleep and dream that you’re home.”
“Tell me about your home.”
“Are you actually going to question me in your sleep?”
He could feel her smile in the darkness. “Yes. Besides, now I feel wide awake.”
Great. “My home is in Texas.”
“I know that from your resume. I meant where in Texas?”
“You wouldn’t have heard of it.”
“Do you live there now?”
“Yes. I haven’t figured everything out yet. Some of it depends on winning the money.”
“And some of it depends on . . .”
“You going to sleep.”
She barked out a laugh. “Really? Whether or not I go to sleep will help determine where you live?”
“No, I’m just hoping you go to sleep.”
She giggled and then quieted for a minute.
“What are you going to do with the money if we win?”
“You mean, when we win?”
“Yes, Mr. Confident.”
“Why do you want to know?”
“I want to know everything about you.”
“Good luck with that.”
“Okay, how about an easier question. Why do they call you Redd?”
“Why do they call you nosey?” he retorted, but without any heat.
She let out another giggle. “I’ll get you to spill your guts soon. I’m gonna get to know all about you, secretive Mr. Redd.”
It was hard to be mad at her. He’d been wrong about her persistence, though. She was way worse than the enemy.
Chapter 12
The next morning Ana woke up to find herself alone. The smell of something roasting was wafting through the air. Salivating, she quickly got up. She was almost out of the tent when she realized two horrible truths. First, she must look like a mess. No hairbrush, toothbrush or clean clothes. Second, they’d be taping all this so the whole world could see how horrible she looked when she woke up. She sighed and made her way out of the tent and into the strong sunshine.
“Good morning,” Redd called out from several yards away. “I moved the fire down here with the extra wood we had. We can’t cook too close to the camp if we don’t want the bears to destroy our stuff.”
Ana made her way over to him, camera in hand, once again bouncing over the springy, boggy terrain. It was a relief when she reached him on the hard gravel. And a bigger relief when she saw what he was doing.
“You caught a fish,” she exclaimed. “How on earth did you do it? And so fast?”
Redd let out a large grin. “I pulled some loose string from one of the parkas, knotting it with a few of these bird feathers to make a lure. After I did all that, I used one of the twigs you found last night and viola, a fishing pole. I can’t cast or reel with it, obviously, but if you get up early enough the fish are eager to bite.”
“How early did you get up?”
“Hard to tell since I couldn’t find my watch without waking you. With the sun up all the time it’s impossible for me to get a good read on the time of day. Let’s just say I’m pretty sure it was real early.” He nodded at the large silvery fish he roasted over the fire. It was speared on one of the sticks she had found. “This one is big enough for the both of us.”
“Do you know what kind it is?”
“I think it’s a whitefish. If so, we’re in for a treat.” Redd held the charred fish on a stick up to Ana’s camera. “Nothing tastes better than fresh-caught fish.”
“Having any kind of food means we’re in for a treat. I’m starving.” She stretched her body, enjoying the feeling until she suddenly tensed up again. “Won’t the bears smell the food?”
“They certainly could. I suggest we eat fast and let the remains wash away.”
“Good idea,” she agreed, eagerly digging in when he offered her a chunk of the flesh. “It’s a bit hot.”
“Better than eating sushi.”
“I like sushi. Although with no wasabi, it might not taste very good.”
“Do you go to a lot of sushi places in New York?” Redd asked.
“I’ve been a few times. But I’m more of a burger-and-beer kind of gal.”
“When we make it out of here, I’ll take you out to celebrate,” he promised. “I’ll spring for both of us out of my million dollar winnings.”
“What else are you going to spend your money on?” Ana asked, happy to find him more talkative today.
“I haven’t decided yet,” he replied with a harsh tone.
Ana put down her chunk of fish. “Are you mad at me?”
“No. I just don’t like answering personal questions.”
“I didn’t realize asking what you
wanted to do with the winnings was personal.”
“Well, it is. Now you know.”
Ana took another bite out of the fish in silence. She’d have a heck of a time editing out his attitude problem when she got back to New York. If only she could edit their conversation while they were out here in the Yukon. I don’t know what I said to get him mad at me. So much for his opening up.
Washing away the remains of their food in the river, Redd didn’t know who to be angry with. Himself, for upsetting her every time he tried to freeze her out, or her for making him want to freeze her out. Why the heck did she keep asking him such personal questions? Or any questions for that matter? They were supposed to be on a survival show, not a therapy show. What was next, a surprise visit from Dr. Phil?
He looked back toward the camp but didn’t see Ana. It was a good thing that after breakfast he had taken a few moments to show her how to use the rifle. He had given her plenty of warnings not to touch it unless she really needed to. Then he had loaded it and left it for her while he went down to the river to wash the fish remains away. Hopefully he hadn’t scared her too much with all his talk about gun recoil. And hopefully his showing her how to fire hadn’t given her such bravado she’d suffer from a foolhardy level of false confidence.
Even with the risks, teaching her was the right thing to do. Since she was dead-set on periodically wandering away from the campsite there was no other choice. If something happened to her, he would never forgive himself.
He let the last of the fish bones drift down the stream and headed back to their tent. When he got there, he found her sitting on the soft ground staring up at the sky. She had an odd look on her face.
“What is it?” he asked, deliberately trying to make his voice gentle.
“The sky is looking very pink, isn’t it?”
