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Before He Was Gone: Starstruck Book 2

Page 7

by Becky Wicks


  ‘You’re telling me I should live in fear out here? I shouldn’t trust anyone?’ I rest my chin on my knees.

  ‘This is a game. Of course you shouldn’t trust anyone.’

  ‘Well, what about if we agree to trust each other?’ I say, before I’ve even thought it through. ‘The first challenge is coming up – no one knows how it’s going to go. We both need an ally here, right? You’re pretty good with that spear and I’m a fast learner. Plus, I can cook.’

  ‘You’re going to need to get good at more than lighting fires and cooking fish,’ he tells me. ‘Anyone can cook a fish.’

  ‘You won’t be saying that once you taste my fish,’ I reply. His eyes are locked on mine again and I catch a hint of amusement in them before something else crosses his face. Guiltily I picture his skin against mine in the dream; his lips on my stomach and thighs. It was so real, so weird. So not Sebastian.

  He gets to his feet, picks up the mask and spear. ‘You should head back,’ he says, ‘make sure you get your ankle cleaned up.’ He pulls the mask back down over his eyes. ‘I think it’s too soon for any alliances, Alyssa, don’t you?’ he adds, before diving off the rock into the ocean.

  12

  Joshua

  My bandana’s already wet around my head. The sun’s making this whole pitch a goddam furnace. There’s a line of sweat trickling between Alyssa’s breasts that I shouldn’t keep looking at, but I can’t help it.

  ‘The name of the game, castaways,’ Ed Bernstein explains, ‘is to carry as many of these fish over to those buckets as you can.’ He’s pointing from his place on the sandy pitch to where two huge buckets are sitting on scales, maybe twenty feet away.

  ‘The catch is that you must not use your hands, or your feet. You must use only your mouths,’ he follows. He’s pacing between us in his gleaming white shirt. ‘The first team to get enough fish to tip the scales and raise their flag will walk away the winners.’

  I look from the heap of dead silvery fish on ice in front of us, to where Journey looks like she’s struggling to hold back her vomit already. She’s not on my team for this, luckily - they’ve split us up.

  ‘Now listen! Each person in your team must carry each fish at least once between here…’ Ed points to our target, ‘and there. The prize? Swimsuits for your team of five, a beach BBQ and an open bar. Now, we know how much some of you could do with a drink already.’

  Shan’s nodding his head. Alyssa’s squeezing Stephanie’s hand. Mike folds his arms, throws me a look. It’s obvious what they’re doing; stirring up animosity between us, forcing us into two tribes. The losers of this challenge will have to sit around watching the others having fun and what better way to get us all wound up at each other instead of pulling together? Not that some people aren’t wound up already.

  There’s been Mike, stomping around trying to get us all to agree to vote Shan out first. ‘He’s a threat,’ he said to me on the reef, when he joined me in attempting to spear a fish. He shot about nine dead aims before letting me do it, but the guy’s persistent.

  ‘Why’s he a threat?’ I asked.

  ‘Him and Alyssa. If he wasn’t more camp than our camp I’d say they were screwing already, but any kind of friendship like that needs to be shot down ASAP in a situation like this.’

  ‘They’ve known each other five seconds,’ I told him. ‘And anyway, people are bound to join forces, Mike, we’re in the middle of nowhere. What’s this really about?’

  He didn’t answer me; just stared at the ocean from the rocks with his flabby sand fly bitten stomach rolling over his army pants, but we all know what it’s really about. No one else here wants Shan out first and I’m pretty sure America wouldn’t either.

  ‘OK ya’ll, who’s fast?’ Stephanie’s saying now, ushering us all closer and looking between us. Her blue eyes are fierce. Her forehead’s striped in blue paint. My team huddles – me, her, Mike, Karin and Alyssa. The stench of fish is already up in my nostrils.

  ‘They called me the pocket rocket,’ Karin pipes up. ‘I ran track.’

  ‘OK, but can you hack it when it comes to grabbing fish in your teeth?’ Stephanie says. Karin salutes her, pigtails bouncing beneath her tied bandana. ‘Awesome, then you pass them to me, I’ll pass to Alyssa. Alyssa, you pass to The Animal… I mean, Joshua,’ she grins, ‘and Joshua, pass to Mike. You gotta get those fish in that bucket, Mike. Is everyone OK with that?’

  No one argues. I raise my eyebrows. She’s like two different people, this bossy little Southern chick. And they’ve been calling me The Animal since we got here. I haven’t asked why – most people wind up with some kind of nickname on Deserted. Alyssa’s still wearing her damn purple lacy bra and Shan’s been calling her Double G. Allegedly it stands for Greek Goddess and has nothing to do with her cup size. I don’t know much about cup sizes but all things considered, with her charm and personality on top, Alyssa’s without doubt the most dangerous female in this game.

  ‘How’s your foot for running on?’ I ask her now, motioning to her ankle as we walk to our starting points next to each other.

  ‘It’s fine, thank you, Joshua,’ she shoots back. I don’t miss the look she gives me; a secret smile as she flexes out her arms, ready for battle. ‘I don’t even know what you’re talking about.’

  Alyssa is sexy as hell, but more than that I’m realizing she’s razor sharp - and clever. She never mentioned what happened on the reef to the others. As far as I know she dabbed some lotion on her scratch from the necessities box and acted like nothing happened. She knows any sign of weakness will be noted. Also, she never talks about the things other people want her to talk about.

  ‘What’s it really like dating a rock star?’ Karin asked her last night as the three of us were preparing the fish I caught.

  ‘Rock stars are people, too,’ she replied, glancing at the camera and taking the snapper I’d just gutted. She sliced it expertly into fillets and sprinkled each one with fresh peppercorns I found growing wild. I knew they’d be here somewhere. They grow all over Indonesia.

  ‘You’re doing good there, Jane,’ I told her, impulsively brushing the hair that fell from her bandana out of her eyes while her hands were busy stuffing the fillets into palm leaves for steaming.

  ‘You’re too kind, Tarzan,’ she replied, looking up at me and fixing me with that same mischievous look she shot me out on those rocks; the one that had me so turned on in light of her see-through wet underwear I had to dive into the damn ocean just to get away from her. ‘You’ll be happy to see I’m still a cook and not a coral reef,’ she said.

  ‘A coral reef?’ Karin frowned in confusion. I laughed with her but I fixed my hands to my side after that and forced them not to do anything stupid. Alyssa The Greek is starting to unnerve me. So is her purple bra.

  ‘Imagine how good those BBQ’d ribs will taste tonight,’ Ed Bernstein teases now, half to us, half to a camera moving round him on a dolly. ‘And that first, cold, refreshing sip of beer.’

  A runner comes around and ties our hands behind our backs with coarse rope. We spread out in our places on the sandy pitch as the other team do the same and I see Jaxx swipe his arm across his forehead, streaking his red tribal paint. It’s so goddam hot – the viewers at home will never know how much. It fogs up my brain. We're all hungry and covered in bites and it hasn't been a week but people are tense. The outcome of this game could change everything.

  Ed holds up his hand. ‘OK castaways, you have three minutes! Get those fish moving… NOW!’

  A buzzer sounds out and Karin’s face is straight on the ice, yanking the tail of a fish up. ‘Pass it to me, here, here!’ Stephanie shrieks as Karin runs full throttle towards her. I watch their faces clash together as Stephanie grabs the side of the fish in her mouth like a pit bull.

  ‘Bring it to me!’ Alyssa yells now and Stephanie spins to make a run for it, but the fish slides from her mouth and onto the floor.

  ‘Damn!’

  ‘Blues - one fish DO
WN!’ Ed hollers from the sidelines and a camera guy hurries to get a shot of it in the sand as Stephanie curses and Karin rummages for another fish. Again she runs to Stephanie but beside us, Shan’s spitting his team’s first fish into the bucket across the pitch and they’re all cheering.

  ‘REDS, picking up speed now…’

  ‘Clamp it with your teeth, don’t be a pussy!’ Mike bellows from the other end of our line and this time the transition from Stephanie happens as it should. Alyssa’s grappling to grab the fish in her mouth. ‘Hold it, hold it tight, bring it to me!’ I say to her as she turns.

  The whole field is full of people yelling now. Alyssa’s heading straight for me, eyes full of fire beneath her bandana. ‘Don’t drop it,’ I tell her, watching her hurry, arms behind her back, chest bouncing, cut off pants hanging on her hips. Her lips are locked tight around the fish and in seconds we’re cheek-to-cheek, shoulder to shoulder and I’m tearing it from her teeth like I really am an animal.

  I dart to Mike, who grabs it from me and spits the slippery carcass into the bucket, loudly. ‘YES!’ he whoops straight into a camera lens.

  ‘Blues, one in, good job, let’s get another, let’s go Karin!’ Ed comments, just as the red team let out an agonized shriek. Mia’s dropped a fish straight out of Journey’s mouth, and Journey is on the verge of a breakdown. Her face is a thunderstorm.

  Stephanie’s running for Alyssa again; and Alyssa's waiting, hunched over, ready to take it by the tail this time. ‘Use those teeth!’ Mike instructs and as Alyssa latches onto it with her mouth and turns I see the disgust in her eyes as blood spills out of its gills. ‘Hold it!’ I urge her as she comes at me again. She looks like one of the zombies I used to have to kill.

  ‘It’s not a pretty picture,’ Ed says, ‘but think of the prize…’

  There’s blood on her chin, her brown eyes are blazing. Our heads almost knock each other out before I can get the thing off her, but in another three seconds Mike has snapped it up and dropped it into the bucket.

  ‘One minute twenty left,’ Ed calls. Again and again I grab the fish from Alyssa and pass them to Mike, until a massive cheer sounds out from the other team. Their scales have almost tipped.

  ‘So close, reds… look at these guys flying now. Will this be the one to raise the flag? The ribs are marinating. The sausages are ready to sizzle…’

  ‘Get the biggest one!’ I shout to Karin, who’s leaning over the fish on ice. ‘You can do this. Let's go!’

  Someone curses loudly in the other team. Shan’s dropped another fish. ‘Watch yourselves reds, no more mistakes,’ Ed warns as they all groan and start again.

  Alyssa’s passing me one more. She holds onto it tight, making sure I’ve got it in my teeth before letting go. I run to pass it to Mike and Ed counts down: ‘Five, four, three…’

  ‘Come on ya’ll, bring this home!’ I hear Stephanie holler at full volume as Mike drops the fish into the bucket and our blue flag is raised with a jerk against the palm tree backdrop. The buzzer sounds out.

  The girls erupt. ‘Congratulations BLUES!’ Ed roars as the runner hurries back around and slashes the ropes binding our wrists.

  Mike’s jumping up and down on the sand, pumping his fists. Stephanie throws her arms around Karin in excitement just as Alyssa runs back to me full throttle and jumps into my arms, wrapping her legs around my waist for a moment, squeezing me hard with every muscle in her body. ‘Nice work, animal,’ she says against my neck and just as quickly she’s back on the sand again, pulling Stephanie to her.

  ‘Commiserations reds,’ Ed says. ‘No swimwear or BBQs for you just yet, I’m sorry, but there will be other chances for you to up your game. So blues, can you nominate one person to come and collect your prize, please?’

  ‘Go on up, Alyssa,’ Stephanie urges her, still with her hand in Karin's and I watch our goddess step up to him with a sheen of sweat and fish blood all over her chest. A beautiful, triumphant apocolyptic zombie. Weird.

  She accepts the bag in Ed’s hands. ‘This better have my best bikini in it,’ she says with a made-for-TV wink, holding it up victoriously. And I don’t miss how her eyes fall back to mine once she’s said it.

  13

  Alyssa

  ‘You have to grip with your feet, not your knees, Mowgli!’ Shan calls up. His arm is looped through mine as we stand slightly back from the tree. Ever since Joshua’s warning about the falling coconuts I’ve kept my wits about me, everywhere.

  Mike is halfway up the palm like a monkey in his khaki green board shorts. He doesn’t look entirely stable. The roll of flab up against the bark might be throwing him off balance, though Mike’s had more beers than any of us and I know for a fact he’s stuffed full of meat. If he fell he’d land like a sack of frickin’ cement.

  ‘Please be careful,’ Mia tells him in her usual mothering tone, folding her arms over her kaftan. I notice Karin covering her eyes, watching him nervously through her fingers. She’s wearing her bikini too, now, like Stephanie and me. The cameras have been orbiting us like planets since we put them on. I actually wrapped my bandana round my waist like a skirt before, just to stop them following me. I don’t mind a few ass shots here and there - I was expecting that - but I’d like to control the angles they shoot them in, if possible. Thankfully they’re distracted now, by Mike.

  ‘Hurry up big guy, I’m thirsty!’ Shan calls before turning to me, rolling his eyes. He’s wearing a tank but is still in his tight white underpants with the word GAY on the front. His friend Marty bought them for him in Britain apparently and he calls them his G-A-Y-fronts. They crack me up every time I look at him ‘cause I can actually picture half of America shaking their heads at the screen at him. He said he wore them three days straight till he got collected for the show. He wanted to make sure he had them on when he was snatched from his office on the Lower East Side. That’s a scene I can’t wait to watch when I get home.

  ‘Seriously, Double G, I could row to the stupid bar in Bali and mix myself a cocktail faster,’ he whines at me.

  ‘I’ll have a sex on the beach,’ I tell him.

  ‘Salty round the edges, I like your style,’ he winks, ‘or is that a margarita? Jesus, hurry up!’ he yells again. ‘I’m parched!’

  ‘I’d like to see you try this,’ Mike shouts down at us gruffly. ‘I can’t concentrate with you all yelling at me!’

  ‘You can’t concentrate ‘cause you’ve had five beers,’ Shan replies, tutting, and he’s probably right. Most of our team have drunk maybe two or three. The whole camp still smells like sausages and ribs. Journey said it made her feel sick and went AWOL, but the rest of the losers have taken it pretty well I guess, even though I know they’re starving. We weren’t allowed to smuggle them any alcohol either. Breaking rules can equal a stint on Asylum Island and no one wants that.

  ‘You have to find a foot hole,’ Jaxx shouts, and from my place on the sand I notice Joshua watching him now. He’s just come back from the well, talking to the camera there, I think. His muscled arms are folded. He’s wearing his new black board shorts. I try not to let my eyes linger, but he’s the image of a sexy stranded plane crash survivor on the set of a Vogue shoot. Seriously.

  That lion tattoo roars through me every time I see it now and makes me feel weird. Already, dark stubble is shading his jaw line. He’s the only one in our winning team who didn’t drink any beer. He catches me looking, raises an eyebrow and I pull my eyes away. Crap. What is my problem?

  Mike wobbles and Karin lets out a shriek. ‘You’re almost there!’ Shan calls, ‘come on soldier, throw me a coconut!’

  ‘For fuck’s sake, fairy boy, would you just shut your face!’ Mike replies angrily.

  ‘What did you say?’ I say, prickling instantly and stepping forward, just as he loses as his grip and tumbles from the tree, smack onto the sand. Joshua’s on his feet, racing over to him.

  ‘Say you’re sorry,’ I hiss at him as he scrambles up. Mike's hobbling on one leg, but he pushes me as
ide and grabs for the front of Shan’s shirt, making all of us gasp, including Shan.

  ‘I told you to stop yelling at me! What is it with you goddam people, always acting like the world revolves around YOU? Thank Christ you’re getting voted out first, you damn waste of space!’ He shakes him hard by his shirt, raises his fist as Shan holds his hands in the air. I’m about to make a grab for him when Joshua’s in my space, reaching for Mike’s ear and yanking him away from Shan, throwing him straight onto the ground.

  ‘Do not even think about it!’ he says, glowering over him.

  ‘You people?’ I say, blood ringing in my ears as Shan straightens his tank, looking in irritation at the stretched-out fabric. ‘Who the hell do you think you…’

  I pause as Joshua holds his hand out in front of me, still looking at Mike. Every muscle in his body is tensed. I try to move but Shan wraps his arms around me in a death grip and as Mike goes to lunge at him again from the ground, Joshua slams a bare foot to Mike’s chest, pinning him down. ‘What the hell are you doing?’

  ‘Get off me, you fucking idiot!’ Mike growls at him. He’s struggling, but injured he’s no match for Joshua’s strength.

  ‘What did you mean by you people?’ I say and Shan tuts.

  ‘He meant he’s a homophobic asshole, Double G. You have to read between the lines sometimes.’ He releases me but keeps hold of my arm. He can tell I want to stomp on Mike’s legs.

  ‘Stop this ya’ll, he’s been drinking, we all have,’ Stephanie cries, as Mike lashes out at Joshua’s knees. He keeps on trying and failing to sit up and Joshua’s still glaring down at him.

  ‘Apologize!’ he demands. His face is like thunder as he holds his weight on him. I can see his jaw pulsing, every vein in his arms straining now as he clenches his fists as hard as I do.

  ‘People, please,’ Punk pipes up, ‘this is ridiculous.’

  ‘He’s right, this is stupid, Joshua, let him go,’ Karin follows.

 

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