The Leftover

by Brooke Williams

  “I mean,” Grace continued, “he had a tie on for heaven’s sake. He could have taken that off and flung it over the wall to help people up. Then again, it was so ugly it might have blinded us.”

  Cane stifled a laugh as Andrew’s jaw hung open. Grace was usually more reserved with her comments. This change in character was surprising.

  “You know where my tie is, don’t you?” Andrew leaned across Kat and shot a fiery stare at Grace. “Where is it? What did you do with it?”

  Grace shrugged. “It didn’t help us in the last competition and I’m afraid it won’t be helping in any other competitions.”

  Andrew lunged at her, but Tank caught his arm and held him back. “Hey, man,” Tank said. “She’s a lady!”

  Andrew brushed the dust from his suit coat. “Where . . . is . . . my . . . tie?”

  Cane watched with exuberance as Grace put on a sheepish expression. “Let’s just say the fish didn’t seem to mind how ugly it was.”

  Andrew stared first at Grace, then out into the bay. Cane wished the tie would surface. Andrew might just wade out into the water to save it.

  “I’m sorry, Andrew. I really am, but the world is a better place without that tie.” Grace slapped her knees as Andrew seethed.

  “This beach would be a better place without you, Grace.” He spoke through clenched teeth.

  Wendy’s wide eyes took in all the drama and Cane wasn’t sure she knew what to do next. “Okay,” she said as the group quieted down. “Why don’t we vote? Tank, you go first.”

  Cane observed as each person voted. Grace almost skipped to the box while Andrew stormed over when it was his turn. He scrawled a name on the page so forcefully Cane wondered if he ripped through the paper as he wrote. What was Grace up to? She was normally so congenial—there had to be a reason behind what she was doing.

  “Time to count the votes,” Wendy sang. She ceremoniously took the box from the voting stand and drew out the first slip of paper. “One vote for . . . Megan.”

  Cane sucked in a breath. This could be it, but there were still plenty of votes. It was too early to write her off as going home.

  “Megan again—that’s two votes Megan. Next vote . . . Megan. That’s three votes for Megan.”

  It wasn’t looking good.

  “The fourth vote goes to . . . Kat.” Wendy read. “Another vote for Kat—three votes for Megan, two for Kat.”

  Cane sensed a change in the tide and a slow smile spread across his face as he crossed his fingers at his side.

  “Another vote for Kat, that’s three for Kat and three for Megan.”

  Kat’s face was falling fast and Cane knew she didn’t understand why she had so many votes.

  “Next vote . . . Grace.” Wendy held up the sheet of paper. “We have three for Megan, three for Kat, and one for Grace. Only one vote remaining and Wendy Weathersby will read it right now.”

  She paused as she dug the paper from the box and unfolded it. Cane held his breath.

  “The last vote goes to . . . Kat. Kat, I’m sorry, please gather your belongings and head to the parking lot.”

  Kat stood and wobbled on her feet. “But . . . what . . . I broke all these nails for nothing?” She held her hand up in front of her face.

  Cane surveyed the group around the fire. The group from the beach shelter looked shocked, especially Andrew. Cane didn’t know if his shock came from the vote or from the loss of his tie. After a few beats to process the vote, Cane thought he had it figured out. Megan’s group voted for Kat. Andrew’s group was supposed to vote for Megan. When Grace goaded Andrew and pushed him over the edge, he changed his vote to Grace at the last minute, leaving Megan’s group in the majority and Kat heading home. Brilliant of the lean-to crew. Completely stupid of Andrew.

  Kat wavered and Cane stepped forward. She didn’t look right. He rushed in front of the cameras and caught her just before she hit the sand. Danae gasped.

  “My bag,” he called to the camera operator nearby. He took Kat’s pulse. It was racing. He guessed that the heat from the day coupled with the lack of eating followed by a large meal in addition to the stress of the vote had been too much for her. She’d simply fainted. He grabbed smelling salts from his bag once the crewmember delivered it and waved them under her nose.

  She stirred. “Am I dreaming? Am I still in the game?”

  “I’m afraid not,” Cane said. He almost felt sorry for her. She obviously hadn’t seen it coming. “Given your current state, it might be for the best anyway. You seem to be in a fragile physical condition. It might be better for you to go home and rest.”

  Kat sighed and tilted her head up to try and stand. Cane gave her a hand and helped her to her feet where she swayed back and forth.

  “I got this.” Tank worked his way over to Kat and swept her off the sand and into his arms like a groom carrying his new bride across the threshold.

  “Carson?” she called.

  Carson gave her an impish grin and a wave as he leaned toward Grace.

  “Oh, I see,” she said as another wave of realization hit.

  “Who cares about him,” Tank said as he carried Kat away from the circle. “You’ve got me.”

  Cane raised his eyebrows. There was even more going on around the beach than he thought.

  “Oh, and Wendy?” Tank threw the comment over his shoulder. “Tell the producer I’m out.”

  Silence settled in around the campfire as Tank carried Kat away from the elimination area. By the time they were a dozen steps away, Kat had snuggled into the crook of his neck. So much for Carson. She’d moved on quickly.

  Cane turned back to those around the fire as he gathered his medical bag and stood. The group stared at him as if he had answers about what just happened.

  “I guess it’s down to six,” he said with a shrug. “Pardon me.” He moved back into the darkness after allowing a lingering gaze to settle on Megan’s face. She’d survived the night. And despite his concerns earlier about the confusing course of their relationship, he felt relieved to see her live to spend another day on the beach.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Megan turned over to lay on her other side. She was achy from the physical activities and from sleeping on the ground. The Leftover was no joke. She wondered how people on Survivor lasted for over a month. She certainly wouldn’t be disappointed when the short time on the beach was behind her and she was back in the comfort of her own bed with her fully stocked fridge nearby.

  She turned onto her back, looking up at the branches that made the ceiling. She couldn’t believe it, but she was actually incredibly glad she had agreed to go on the show. She had made real friends, pushed her body much further than she thought possible, and met Cane. Plus, look how far she’d come. There were only six left. Two more to go before she was in the final four. It was a feat to get this far.

  She would trade a bed and food for this any day.

  A memory of Andrew’s face when he realized his tie was no longer with him—and that it was with the fish in the bay—flashed through her mind. She stifled a giggle. Grace’s master plan had worked better than Megan could have hoped.

  The wind blew a breeze through the lean-to. They’d been lucky in their shelter so far. The leaf barriers on the outside kept out the bugs. Megan scratched a mosquito bite. Some of the bugs. She still had a dozen or more bites.

  Megan shifted her position as a light rain began to patter down on the lean-to. The drops slowed down on the leaves, but soon enough of the water soaked through and dripped onto those beneath it. She shivered. The nights got chilly and rain wouldn’t help.

  Grace shifted beside her and Carson sat up. “Rain, great,” he said groggily.

  “My thoughts exactly,” Megan agreed. She was getting wet already, so parting the leaves at the side of the shelter to inspect the sky didn’t make matters any worse. “Wow.” Her eyes widened as the sky lit up with lightning that looked like a spider web.

  Thunder rumbled through the lean-to an
d Grace and Leo awakened. Grace rubbed her eyes. “What’s that?”

  “A storm.” Megan caught another glimpse of lightning. It was much closer. “And it’s heading this way.”

  Grace joined Megan at the side of the lean-to. “By the looks of those clouds, it’s a nasty one.”

  Megan wiped drops of rain from her glasses and squinted into the darkness. When lightning struck again, she could see the bubble-like appearance of the clouds. “What’s that?” She pointed to a large mass of clouds across the bay.

  Carson joined the girls at the edge of the shelter. “I’m no Wendy Weathersby, but I think that may be a wall cloud.”

  “You mean . . .” Living in Nebraska, Megan knew pre-tornado weather signs, and Carson’s next words confirmed her fears.

  “Yeah, watch that thing for rotation. This storm doesn’t look good.” Carson ran his hand over the back of his neck.

  The wind picked up again, making sand swirl through the shelter.

  “How do you think they’re faring in the other shelter?” Megan wondered.

  Leo popped his head out the other side of the lean-to. “Not good considering they’re headed this way.”

  Megan shook her head and moved aside as Andrew and Danae dove into the lean-to.

  “The wind blew one of our walls in,” Danae admitted, “and the roof came down with it.”

  Megan heard a loud crack and a brief glance through the leaves told her the other shelter was now completely dismantled.

  Andrew glared at Grace and said nothing.

  “The lean-to and the forest oughta give us a bit more shelter.” Grace spoke directly to Andrew.

  The rain came down in torrents and the lean-to was no longer holding back any of the drops. The group huddled together in the middle as best they could. Andrew had disappeared under his suit jacket.

  “This is getting to be too much,” Leo announced. “They wouldn’t leave us out here in such dangerous conditions, would they?”

  As if on cue, Mike, the producer, appeared with a camera operator at the side of the lean-to. The camera was wrapped in a poncho so it would be waterproof, but both men were soaked to the bone.

  “I’ve secured a house to use as shelter for the night.” Mike had to shout to be heard over the rain and wind. “We’ve been keeping tabs on the storm and apparently a tornado touched down a couple of miles from here. It’s headed this way. We need to get out of here now.”

  Megan’s blood pressure rose. This wasn’t just a bad night on the beach. They were out in the open with a tornado just a few miles from them. She charged out of the tent behind Andrew, only stopping to grab Grace’s hand.

  “Follow me,” Mike ordered. “The house is just around the corner on the beach.

  Megan surveyed the group. They had everyone from both shelters as well as Mike and one camera operator. The crew didn’t generally stay overnight so they were likely all safe in their beds at home. Or in their basements, as the case may be. Everyone was here . . . but what about Cane?

  They raced past the medic tent, following Mike to the safe house. Megan slowed long enough to watch Cane emerge from the tent. His medical bag was slung across his body. He joined the parade of contestants behind Mike. Megan sighed in relief. She didn’t want anyone left out here in this, not even Andrew.

  Mike led the soaked group up the beach and back into the trees. If they had been inside, Megan would have wanted to marvel at the lightning. Being outside was downright terrifying. The crack of thunder that pierced the darkness immediately after the sky lit told her the storm was too close for comfort.

  Cane’s medical bag bumped against Megan’s side. She caught his gaze and saw that he was frightened as well. His presence made her feel better about their current state. At least they were in it together.

  She held tight to Grace’s hand and kept her eyes on Andrew’s back. Soon, she spied a glowing house before them. They were almost there. Her injured toe throbbed as she pushed herself forward. The wind swirled around her and she felt like it was strong enough to lift her off her feet.

  The next bolt of lightning was so close the electrical charge surged through the air. The loud crack caused Grace to pull her hand from Megan’s and cover her ears before sprinting on ahead. Megan futilely wiped the rain from her glasses as she saw that she and Cane were bringing up the back of the pack, Andrew right ahead of them. She needed windshield wipers.

  Movement in her peripheral caused her eyes to snap to a tree that was . . . moving. The wind or lightning or a combination of the two had freed the tree from its permanent position and it was falling to the earth.

  Time slowed as Megan calculated where the tree was in relation to the rest of the group. She was fairly certain everyone was out of harm’s way except for the three in the back—her, Andrew, and Cane. Without thinking, she launched herself at Andrew’s back, shoving him as hard as she could with both hands.

  Andrew grunted and fell to his knees as Megan switched direction in what felt like mid-air and threw herself on top of Cane. She took him down hard and landed soundly on top of him.

  The large tree fell with a deafening thud between the two sections of the group. Megan jammed her eyes shut as she waited for the pain. When nothing came, she opened them to assess the damage. She placed her hands against Cane’s chest and pushed herself up.

  Cane grabbed her wrist and looked into her eyes. She couldn’t see well due to the rain running off her glasses and down her nose, but the look he gave her was not something she would soon forget. Megan wanted to stay near the warmth of his body all night, but then again, there was a tornado heading straight for them. She jolted back to her feet and took stock of the large tree that was now in their path.

  Cane was up a moment later, pulling her hand. “Let’s get to the house.” They skirted around the tree and made for the house, Andrew just ahead of them. She squeezed Cane’s palm tight as they made up the distance between them and the safe house, where the rest of the group had already taken refuge.

  Mike held open the walk-out basement’s sliding glass doors as the wet threesome stumbled inside, gasping. Once the door was shut tight behind them, they stood in a bunch, dripping and in dismay.

  “You saved Andrew,” Grace said as she ran up to Megan and gave her a hug.

  “I did?” Megan was trying to find the driest piece of her clothing to dry her glasses on but gave up when she realized she was a soaked mess.

  “He would’ve been right in its path. I looked back when I heard it fall.”

  Megan shrugged. It had happened so fast she barely had time to think about what she was doing. The tree looked like it was coming down in slow motion and yet her actions took place in a split second.

  “Are you getting this?” Mike snapped at the camera operator.

  The operator held a thumb up toward Mike. The red light blinked on the camera. It was a wonder the electronic device was still working.

  Andrew wrung his suit jacket out on the tile floor near the door and slung it around his shoulders. Megan hadn’t let go of Cane’s hand. They were inside, but the storm still raged on the other side of the wall. Megan stared at Mike, awaiting further instructions when Andrew appeared before her. He put one hand on each of her shoulders, bent over, and placed his wet lips on her forehead.

  “I saw my life flash before my eyes, Megan,” Andrew said. “You pushed me out of the way. If you hadn’t, I might be beneath that tree right now.”

  Megan shifted her feet uncomfortably. “I . . . you’re welcome.”

  “I won’t forget this.” Andrew retracted his hands and plopped down on the couch in the corner of the room.

  “The homeowners are away for the summer.” Mike said, drawing the attention of the contestants. “The studio made arrangements with them in the off chance we needed refuge. We are not allowed to go upstairs, but the basement is ours for the night. I’m going to check on the storm’s progress. In the meantime, make yourselves comfortable.”

  Megan shot a
look at Andrew on the couch. It seemed like he’d already acted on that advice. She had almost forgotten Cane’s hand sitting in her own until his thumb moved across her palm.

  Megan removed her glasses, squinting at her surroundings. She was having trouble seeing clearly around the drops of rain on the lenses, but everything she normally would use to absorb the water—shirt, pants—was fully saturated. Maybe she could use the carpet . . .

  “Here, let me.” Cane dug inside his medical bag and produced a clean cloth. He gingerly removed his hand from hers and grabbed the frames. He wiped them dry and placed them back on her face. “Better?”

  Megan noticed his hands lingered near her cheeks. She might have been delirious from hunger and fear, but she thought he tucked her wet hair behind her ears before he lowered his arms.

  “Okay.” Mike returned to the group with news. “The storm is weakening and the tornado has gone back up into the clouds. That being said, it’s still very dangerous outside. It would be a good idea to stay away from the windows. There have been reports of hail.”

  As if on cue, the noise of the rain increased ten-fold and Megan noticed large ice chunks hitting the ground outside the door. “Holy mackerel,” she whispered. She tilted her head at Cane and led him to a spot along the wall farthest away from the windows. She leaned up against the wall and slid down into a sitting position. Grace and Carson were huddled a few feet down and Danae and Andrew sat on the couch across the room. Leo looked to be asleep on the floor already.

  “Have you ever seen a storm like this?” Megan asked as lightning struck again and thunder shook the windows.

  “Just once,” Cane answered. He placed his medical bag on the floor between them and sank to the tiles beside her. “I was five and even semi-dark clouds terrified me for years after.”

  “I can see why,” Megan admitted.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “Sure.” Megan couldn’t take her eyes off the hail falling to the ground. It was starting to pile up like snow.

  “Why did you throw yourself at me?”