“Sure.” I lift the chute and pull all the cords together so they don’t drag on the ground and hook on things. Jake stays close to me.
“That dog sure likes you. How’s your knee?” Billy asks.
“It’s okay. It’s not stinging anymore.”
“Maybe there’ll be something in here we can use to clean it up better.”
We keep trudging along. It’s hot and I’m starting to get tired. He’s probably tired too. I can see the bag’s heavy.
We finally make it back to the trees, and Billy hefts it off his shoulder and sets it on the ground. I drop the parachute with the others on the pile someone has made.
Everyone crowds around and Billy sits on his heels beside the bag and stares up at me. I find myself staring at him again and I notice how long and dark his lashes are over those bright green eyes.
“Should I open it?” he asks.
I shrug. I wish they wouldn’t ask me stuff. I’m not in charge here and I don’t like them all to stare at me. “Sure,” I say, crouching down beside him to get a closer view.
“What happened to the others?” Billy says.
“Gone to see if they can find water,” Rodriguez, the guy with the twisted ankle, replies from his seat on a small boulder.
Billy grins. “Okay, here goes. Pandora’s bag. There’s no going back once I’ve opened it.” Everyone is quiet while he unzips the bag.
Inside is a black Samsonite trunk with a padlock on it. Billy hauls it out and tosses the canvas bag aside.
“You know the code?” Billy squints at me.
“Not me,” I say. “I just take movies.” Like a dork, I hold my hands up in front of me to mimic me holding a camera.
A few people groan and I don’t know if they’re thinking how lame I am or if they’re pissed that the trunk is locked. The redhead with no shoes, I think she’s a teacher, says, “I suppose our shoes are in the other bag. Isn’t that how Murphy’s Law works?” She’s staring into the canvas bag.
“I guess it’s our first task. We have to figure out the combination,” Billy says.
“It’s kind of weird that we all have to work together,” the nerdy dude with glasses who’s also shoeless, responds. I remember his name is Jared.
“There are two of these bags, aren’t there?” the nerd says.
Mark said there were, and everyone around us seems to agree, although they don’t really know for sure.
“If we were in teams, I guess each team would get one and have to decipher the code.”
“Well, we aren’t in teams,” the giant black dude says. “So we have to figure it out together.” He touches his head, where the cut is.
“How about r-e-a-l-i-t-y,” Billy offers. He doesn’t wait for a response, just starts turning the dial. It doesn’t work.
“Try the producer’s name, d-o-c-k-e-r-y,” offers the black dude.
It doesn’t work either. Billy tries a few more suggestions with no luck.
“You sure you’re doing it right?” the nerd asks. “Let me try.”
Billy stands and we all watch while Jared re-tries the combination.
“Hey.”
The women who went to find water are back. They’re sweaty and hot. The pudgy, tough-looking one in khaki shorts and work boots is in front. She sinks down to the ground and wipes her sweating face on her sleeve. “You found it.”
“One of them,” Billy says.
“Did you find anything?” I say, licking my lips. They taste of salt. I’m really thirsty. I follow her example and sit down on the bare reddish colored earth.
“There’s kind of a mud puddle with animal droppings around it.” The tall blonde with an accent wrinkles her nose. “It will have to be boiled if we want to drink it.”
The nerd, Jared, fills them in about the lock and they start offering suggestions. None of them work. After a while, everyone gets quiet. This is insanely frustrating.
It’s probably over an hour later when Andy and Trip arrive back, carrying the other bag between them, with Mark following them and still filming, the chute in his arm and the cords dangling behind him.
We all cheer.
They set the bag down. “Why haven’t you opened it?” Trip asks, pointing at the trunk.
“We can’t figure out the combination for the padlock,” Billy responds.
Trip unzips the canvas bag he’s just brought, and takes out the shoes that are lying loose inside it. He holds them up and their owners retrieve them. There’s another trunk the same as the first one, and it’s also locked.
I step back and stand beside Mark. It’s not my place to figure out the combination. I can’t help thinking about it, though. I want to ask Mark if he has any thoughts, but he has to keep the camera rolling to record all the suggestions.
After several tries later and what seems like ages, Andy says, “Try the name on the label of one of the bags that covered the trunk. E-m-b-r-i-l-e-s.”
Nobody says anything and it’s so quiet I can hear the padlock clicking.
“Yes!” Billy shouts as it springs open. “Yeehaw!” He yanks it out and lifts the lid of the trunk.
“My camera,” I say and push through the crowd. “Let me get my camera and equipment.” It’s all packed into two labeled cardboard boxes and I drag them out and place them a little ways away and go back to try and see what else they find.
“Our rucksacks are packed in here,” Andy says, lifting a gray canvas bag out of one of the trunks.
“That’s mine,” Maria, the nurse, says. She takes it and moves away to open it.
“Wait up,” Mark says. “We want to get film of you each opening your bags. Do you think you can wait until everyone has theirs and then we can do an intro on camera, one at a time? It’ll give Lexie time to set up her equipment too. My battery is almost dead, and I didn’t think I would be the one having to do this, but what the heck. Welcome to ‘Endure and Win.’ I’m Mark and that’s Lexie”—he points—“and we don’t know any more than you guys about how this competition’s gonna work. We just operate the cameras. I’m glad you all survived the first test—jumping out of the aircraft. I can’t believe some of you jumped without shoes on, but you made it. And it has to be Murphy’s Law that the only person who got injured was the one wearing strong work boots and solid clothing.” Everyone glances at the Mexican then Mark continues. “Allen Dockery said he’d be back in three days, but anything could happen between now and then. Lexie thinks the Assistant Producer’ll show up before that, with some of the crew, and maybe even the host.”
“Who is the host?” Jared asks.
Mark shakes his head. “Like I just said, I don’t know anything about the game. Sorry. However, did anyone get any sort of info? Any special hint or anything? Maybe one of you guys has something that’ll help get the game going, and even clear up some of the mystery.”
Nobody says anything, and Mark continues, “If it’s something you can’t disclose to the others, I need you to tell either me or Lexie in private so we can be sure to film you following up or acting on it. We won’t tell anyone else. We had to sign something to say we’ll keep our mouths shut. Does anyone have any questions?”
“How do we know if we’re supposed to be working in teams or as individuals?” Lela asks.
Mark shakes his head. “Like I said, Old Man Dockery kept most of that kind of info to himself. He most likely told the administrative staff, but not us. Any more questions?”
Mark waits a few seconds. “I guess we just all work together until we know different, then. Lex and I will help around the camp as much as we can until we get our own space when the others arrive.”
Everyone starts talking at once.
“Hey, y’all,” Billy says, “The other trunk has the same combination as the first.”
Trip starts passing the rucksacks out to whomever claims them. “Whose is this?” he says.
I’m busy assembling my camera, but I glance up. “That’s mine,” I say and set the camera down and snatch my rucksack away from him. Once my camera’s working, I take over from Mark. I figure he’s gone to plug into the solar battery charger and is putting the spare battery in his camera, but I can’t look back to watch him.
Once everyone has their rucksacks, they form a circle. The other stuff that was in the bags has been placed in a pile in the center. Someone has dragged a couple of big logs across, and people are sitting on them.
“Listen up,” the lawyer, Andy, says. “We’re gonna introduce ourselves and open our bags one at a time. I’ll start.”
I catch a strange expression on Trip’s face—like a school kid who’s been smoking cigarettes. Is there something in his bag he doesn’t want us to see?
Chapter 6
“I’m Andy Riggs. I’m an attorney, twenty-eight years young and single.” Did he just throw a pointed look at the redhead? He drags his fingers through his curly blonde hair. Isn’t that a wedding ring? I make sure I get a close up of his dark blue eyes and ruggedly handsome face before focusing on his bag. “We all know each of us was allowed to bring one survival item. Mine is this”—he holds up a small box, and I narrow my eyes. “It’s flint. I wasn’t sure if Dockery would let me bring it, but he said it was okay as long as it wasn’t matches or a lighter. My extra two items of clothing are a T-shirt and underwear.” He blushes and holds up a pair of bright red boxers.
A couple of people laugh.
“I would have preferred to have brought extra shoes.” He sits back and stares at the woman to his left.
“Lela Sukhova,” the big blond woman says, with her strong accent. “Model and interior designer.” She has definitely been poured into her designer jeans, and that tight boob tube doesn’t leave much of her hidden. She obviously spends a lot of time in a tanning booth. The skin on her bared stomach is perfectly tanned, except for a pink rose tattoo around her navel. She throws a look at the redhead, almost like a challenge. Andy is staring at her the same way he stared at the redhead—like he’s hungry. I can’t help glancing at his left hand. There’s definitely a ring on his finger.
“I brought underwear, of course,” the model says, pulling out two pairs of tiny, almost non-existent black lace panties. A laugh bubbles up inside me, but I don’t let it out. She has one chance for a little extra comfort and she brings those.
“And my survival item is this.” She holds it up with a self-satisfied smirk on her face. “It’s a Swiss Army Knife. It has a—how you say?—compass, a whistle, a nail file, two knife blades, a bottle opener, and a pair of scissors.”
The tough woman in the khaki shorts and a brown T-shirt, with brown work boots, is next. “Sam Fillwood, trucker, thirty-one.” She’s average height, a little overweight, and her dark hair is cropped short. She opens her bag and holds up a curved hunting knife. “You never know when you’re gonna need to defend yourself.” The way she says it makes me wonder if she’s talking about the wild animals or the other players. She takes out a pair of denim shorts and a T-shirt and lets me film them, then stares at the Asian girl.
“My name is Eve Li. I’m twenty and I manage a restaurant.”
“Let me guess,” says the nerdy dude, “a Chinese restaurant.”
Everyone chuckles except Eve, who ignores him. I make certain I record her satiny black pants and a shiny yellow sleeveless blouse.
“You might think my shoes were a mistake,” she continues, “but I chose them and I will be comfortable in them.”
I pan down to her yellow sandals.
“My emergency item is this.” She holds up a flashlight. “I’m not scared of the dark, or anything. I brought as many spare batteries as they would allow. As for my clothes, underwear and a sweater.” She doesn’t hold them up, and I film what I can of them inside her bag.
“Kelli Gannon,” the redhead wearing the short black cocktail dress says. “I’m twenty-five, an educator, and I’m still mad at myself for being duped into wearing these clothes.” She’s pretty. “I brought this.” She holds up a roll of bright neon pink duct tape. “I would have brought W-D40 if it was allowed,” she said. “Every woman should have both. Duct tape if it moves and shouldn’t; the other if it doesn’t move and it should.”
Everyone laughs, and I think I detect an expression of envy from Billy, the cowboy. Or is it approval? Or is he thinking she’s hot?
“Good call,” he says. “The color, too. It means we can use it to attract attention from an aircraft if we ever need to.”
My stomach clenches suddenly. What does he mean? Surely the Old Man will be here in three days. He said he would. But . . . what about the sat phone? He also said there would be a sat phone. It must be in the other trunk.
Kelli’s extra clothes are underwear, a bra and panties. I bet she wishes she had brought jeans and a T-shirt or tennis shoes. I pan across the faces of the others, and get distracted. Is that a bulge in Jared’s shorts?
Everyone turns their gaze to the tall, skinny exec woman, and I remember what I’m supposed to be doing and turn my attention back to filming.
“Faith Frith is my name,” she says. “I’m thirty-seven and I’m an accountant.” Her suit still doesn’t have a wrinkle in it. She smooths back her blonde hair that’s tied up way too tidily, without a single stray strand. “I brought a pack of candles. I thought it would be dark in camp at night. I didn’t think we’d be allowed to bring a flashlight.” She glances over at Eve. Not surprisingly, to me anyhow, she has brought a T-shirt and a bag of disposable underwear. She seems to be the organized, practical type, except there’s something weird about her eyes. They are kind of browny-gray and she doesn’t seem to be able to focus properly, so I’m not really sure whether she’s eyeballing me or someone behind me. Do the others see that, or is it just me?
For some weird reason, I shudder.
“Trip Varnes, forty-three, entrepreneur and amateur explorer.”
I snort, and then catch myself. He’s closer to fifty. It sounds like he wants everyone to think he’s rich and he just travels around for fun. It could backfire on him though. I figure the others are thinking why do people like that enter shows like this? He probably doesn’t need the million dollar prize. He digs into his bag and comes out with a cooking pot. “Without safe water, you can’t survive in the boondocks. Dysentery is no joke, trust me, and it can take all the strength out of you in a matter of a few hours if it’s severe enough. My other items of clothing are underwear and hat. Since it’s not part of my daily uniform.” He puts a bush hat on his head and glares at the cowboy, Billy.
If he had anything to hide in his bag, he probably snuck it out while we were all watching one of the others. I notice Mark staring at me. He’s trying to see what sort of reaction I have. I keep my face still, but he probably heard me snort. I couldn’t help myself.
“Billy Murphy.” He stands up and ignores the obvious statement Trip is trying to make. “Cowboy. I work on a cattle ranch.” He grins, takes his hat off, and scrapes his brown hair back with his fingers.
I find myself studying him from behind the camera lens and thinking how very cute he is. He has even features and high cheekbones, with those light-green eyes and dark lashes. He always grins like he’s got some trick up his sleeve or he knows something we don’t. I move the camera down to his bag. “I brung a fishing kit—line and hooks,” he says. “And an extra shirt and socks.” He holds them up. “I also have this.” He slips his red bandanna off from around his neck. “It has a lot of uses.” He glances at me. “It can be used to keep the sun off my neck, across my face to keep the dust out of my mouth, I can use it to strain water, as
a tourniquet, and the reason it’s bright is to attract attention if I get lost and an aircraft is searching for me. If we lose the duct tape, that is. Oh, I’m twenty-four.” He sits down. “Wow,” Kelli says, “that’s impressive. I would never have imagined that.”
The nurse stands up. “Maria Lopez, Los Angeles. I’m forty-seven and you all know by now I’m a nurse.” She is wearing a bright cotton dress and leather pumps that are probably comfortable although I don’t think they’ll take much of a beating. “My survival item is a space blanket. It will keep me warm if it gets cold out, and also if anyone gets hurt, it’ll help with the shock. Not that I’m hoping for anything bad to happen to anyone, but I can’t help thinking like a nurse. As for extra clothing, I brought a jacket and underwear.” She’s short and dumpy, and probably too old to compete against some of the others, but we’ve already needed someone with medical knowledge, and I am real glad she’s here.”
I guess I’m next,” the very tall black dude says. “Name’s Henry Grant, but you can call me Stretch, ex-NBA player with the Knicks. I brought a compass. I don’t plan on getting lost any time soon. I also packed spare shorts and T-shirt. Oh, I’m fifty-one.” He checks around the faces in the circle. “Must be the oldest here. I’m pretty tough, though, and once my head is fixed up, I’ll be more useful to y’all.” He touches his head again, and sits back down on the log.
“My name’s Jared Harner,” the nerdy guy says. “I’m studying—community college—computer science, and I’m nineteen. Well, almost twenty. My birthday’s next week.” His birthday must be close to mine. He’s also a Virgo like me. He blushes and blinks rapidly, and I focus on his face. He has red cheeks, short brown hair and brown eyes, and kind of a round baby face. The black rimmed glasses make him appear nerdy, but I can see he works out. His muscles are firm and well formed on his arms. He’s wearing flip flops now. His long shorts and T-shirt must be comfortable. “I brought this as my survival item,” he says shyly and holds up a five-item pack of dental floss. “You might not think of it as a smart thing to choose, but actually it has a lot of uses. I mean, it could be used for fishing, making snares, and tying poles together for a shelter.”
Virgo's Vice Page 4
