Scavenger Hunt

by John R. Little

  He loved that feeling — the feeling of power that the isolation gave him.

  Litla Dimun, he thought. It’s even more isolated. Nobody lives there. “Nobody,” he whispered.

  It was a little after eleven o’clock at night. He should have been sleeping, but he wanted to feel the solitude of the island.

  He pulled on his pants and shirt and walked out to the clearing behind the inn.

  There were no city lights, no smog, no horns honking.

  No people.

  He let his eyes adjust to the darkness before finally looking up to the sky. The amazing sky. The sky he’d wanted to see for much of his life.

  Above him the stars glittered and shone like a magic carpet. It looked like a million of them casting their stare down at him. Fernando knew it wasn’t really a million, but his mind wanted to believe that it was — a cascade of diamonds covering a glass ceiling.

  The back of the inn had a grassy field that ended sharply at the sea. The land dropped off straight down to the Atlantic, about fifty feet below. Fernando walked to the edge of the field and stared at the ocean. There were crashing waves with bright white crests breaking, while above, the Milky Way rose from the waters and pushed up to a quarter of the sky.

  “I wish I could stay here forever,” he whispered.

  He sat with his legs over the edge of the cliff. He had no fear of falling, since the land was pure granite. The island was solid.

  Isolation. Desolation. Aloneness. He felt nature boring into his body and into his soul, and he stared into infinity, listening to God’s work.

  He didn’t know exactly how long he sat there before he heard a sound nearby. It was a harsh sound that didn’t belong in his perfect retreat.

  “Oh…”

  God damn it, he thought.

  He stood and turned, trying to see where the sound came from.

  “God, I want you…”

  “I’ve wanted to fuck you since I first laid eyes on you.”

  Fernando saw them now. Two shadows. One shadow pushed the other against a shed.

  “Ohhh… you feel so good.”

  “God, you — you — ”

  Somehow he wasn’t surprised to see Brittany pressed against the shed while Steve Howard fucked her. Hard. Fernando could see Steve’s ass bouncing as he rammed hard into her, over and over.

  Bitch.

  “I’m gonna come,” Steve said.

  “Wait, I’m not ready.”

  “Oh, God, I’m coming!”

  Fernando felt his heart sink as he walked back to the inn. He’d suspected that Brittany had cheated on him before, but never this blatantly.

  And she’d forgotten about the forecams. It was all being recorded. Or maybe she hadn’t forgotten; maybe she just didn’t give a damn that millions of people would be watching her adultery.

  Brittany - Sixteen Years Old

  Brittany Manning hated her job. She worked at the front counter at McDonald’s and it totally sucked. The customers were rude and the smell of the food all day long every day just made her want to throw up sometimes. It was hot, sweaty work and she hated it. She knew she’d never eat another Big Mac as long as she lived.

  The only good thing about the job was that it forced her to smile a hundred or more times on each shift. Each new customer needed that smile before ordering, and after a few months, it was automatic. Before this job, Brittany rarely smiled. Why should she? Her life was miserable, her family was miserable, and there was no prospect for improvement in the future. Everything seemed so depressing.

  Now, though, she had a regular paycheck. She’d bought a couple of cute skirts and blouses that looked just perfect on her, even though she didn’t have any place to wear them. And shoes. It was soooo nice to buy a brand new pair of shoes. She’d always had hand-me-downs before.

  After the first month, she had her hair done and even bought some make-up. She’d never had that before, either, just sneaking a bit of lipstick from her sister’s tube every once in a while.

  She had to hide her new things at home. The last thing she wanted was big sister stealing them. She seemed to be high on drugs most of the time; she was almost never home and when she was, she just seemed totally out of it. Her brothers were never home, either, but she wasn’t worried about them. They barely noticed she was alive. Her parents were just drunks who didn’t give a shit.

  Her sixteenth birthday passed without notice to everyone else but her. In Brittany’s mind, that meant she was grown up and it was time to find a place to live on her own.

  She checked out a few apartments, but it was harder for a 16-year-old to rent a place than she’d expected. For fuck’s sake, she thought. I have the money. Why do they care how old I am?

  The sun was starting to go down. Her birthday was almost over and she started to think her present to herself wasn’t going to work out.

  Apartment For Rent.

  Can’t hurt to try one more. It was an old brownstone building, and she could hear a couple screaming inside. It was more like a hotel than a normal apartment, but she didn’t care. There was a balding fat man at the counter wearing a white tank top and eating a slice of pizza. Uggh, she thought. How gross. But she put on her sweet McDonald’s smile and walked over to him. As he was shoveling the pizza down his throat he looked her up and down, checking her out and not bothering to hide it at all.

  “Well, hi there,” Brittany said.

  He grunted and gave her a half-smile, while wiping pizza sauce from his chin.

  “You have an apartment for rent?”

  “Yeah. You interested?”

  “I sure am,” she said as sweetly as she could manage. She leaned over the counter, closer to him.

  He couldn’t stop staring at her.

  “I need the first and last month’s rent and a damage deposit.”

  “How much is that altogether?”

  “Rent is four hundred so total of nine fifty.”

  Fuck! She only had a thousand dollars and still needed furniture.

  She put a sad look on her face and pouted. “Darn, I didn’t think I’d need to pay a deposit. Isn’t there something we can do?” She smiled at him again.

  “Well, I really need a damage deposit.”

  “Don’t you trust me?”

  “Well, if you can pay me the deposit later… when could you come up with it?”

  “Two weeks?”

  “I guess we could let it slide till then.”

  The place was a complete dump, but it was hers. She couldn’t complain to anybody since nobody else seemed to want to rent to her. She took as much as she could from her own place without her parents noticing.

  She slept on an air mattress and had a small television to keep her company. That was okay. She had plans.

  Brittany knew she had to get a better job to be able to make the place more livable. She’d always admired actresses. She was watching Striptease with Demi Moore when she got the idea of being a stripper. She loved dancing and she knew she could be pretty good around men. She knew how to be sexy.

  She’d seen a low-class strip club not far from her apartment. As she walked in, a cloud of smoke seemed to cling to her. It was the middle of the afternoon and there were already a couple dozen men drinking inside.

  She was wearing her sluttiest outfit, a short red leather skirt, knee-high black leather boots, and a midriff white top. The bouncer walked over to her and she asked for the club manager. He pointed at a guy in his mid-thirties sitting at a table in the corner who was smoking and having a drink. He wore all black and had his hair slicked back.

  He noticed her right away. She knew not many hot young women walked alone into strip clubs unless they were dancers.

  “Hey,” she said as she sat next to him.

  He nodded.

  “You looking to hire a new dancer?”

  “You ever dance before?”

  “Sure.” She leaned over close and whispered in his ear. “In my bedroom. Naked.”

 
He laughed. “You really are pretty desperate. How old are you?”

  “Eighteen.”

  “Maybe sixteen.”

  She felt her cheeks redden.

  “Well, why don’t you show me what you’ve got. Give me a lap dance.”

  Brittany had been practicing some sexy moves. She could tell he was definitely enjoying her dancing for him. She started touching her legs and felt a bit self-conscious. She decided to stop dancing after a few minutes.

  “I need to see the merchandise. I can’t hire you without knowing what’s under the clothes.”

  She smiled and started taking her top off.

  “Not here. Come with me.”

  She felt scared and widened her eyes.

  “Get out of here, then. You’re not stripper material.”

  “It’s okay. I’m just nervous.”

  She followed him to a back room where there was a dressing room. There were costumes everywhere and different props.

  He sat on a couch and patted the seat beside him.

  “Sit. And then undress.”

  She started taking her top off but she was so nervous, she had a hard time. She was just fumbling with it.

  “I’ll help.” He pulled her top off and then undid her bra for her. “Mmm… very nice.” He cupped her left breast in his hand.

  Brittany took a deep breath but forced herself to smile. Is this normal?

  “Stand up. I’ll help you with your skirt.”

  She stood and he wrapped his arms around her to undo the zipper in the back. He slid it down her thighs and then stood back a little. She was topless and only had a g-string and those sexy boots on.

  “Those men will eat you up,” he whispered.

  That gave her the confidence she needed to finish. She started pulling off her panties. She’d shaved so there was just a little strip of pubic hair. The rest was smooth as silk.

  She could see him getting aroused.

  He put his hands on her shoulders and let them slide down her arms. He started kissing her neck.

  I need this job.

  He pushed against her and she could feel how hard he was. She let her head fall back so he could kiss her throat easier.

  He moved down and took her breast into his mouth, teasing her nipple with his tongue. He moved his hand down. She was wet. She hadn’t realized that until she felt his fingers sliding on her pussy. He unbuttoned his pants and stripped down before pushing her down on the couch and mounting her. She cried, and even she wasn’t sure if it was from pleasure or pain.

  It was over in only a few minutes. He got off her and as he walked out, he called over his shoulder, “You’re hired. Be here tomorrow at two o’clock for some training. My name’s Marc Orso.”

  Brittany - Faroe Islands

  Brittany Manning-Santiago actually never thought of herself as having a hyphenated last name. She thought of herself as simply Brittany Manning. The Santiago appendage would be gone soon, and she couldn’t wait for that day to come.

  She sat on a bench on their boat, looking up. Way above her, she could see Fernando and Carlos climbing the rope ladders higher and higher.

  “It’s about five hundred feet straight up, Brit,” Fernando had told her earlier. “You can wait here if you want.”

  Of course, that fucking brother of his just stood there, sneering at her.

  “Maybe I want to climb it,” she said.

  They were on the south side of the tiny island, and their boat was tied to a rock. The rope ladder stretched up as far as she could see and then the cliff curved a bit and she couldn’t see higher. From a distance they had all seen that the ropes went to the very top.

  Other ropes scattered around the island were much shorter, used by fishermen way back when. Team Hollywood’s rope ladder was different. It was solid and strong, placed there by the production team only a few days ago, according to Steve Howard.

  Steve was climbing the ladder, too, and she could see him just below Fernando and Carlos. She thought back to the night before, thought of Steve fucking her against the tool shed, while the cold of the night bit into her.

  She’d really wanted Steve. She wanted to feel like somebody wanted her, that she wasn’t an over-the-hill hag, that she could still have something to live for. Even though she hadn’t married Fernando for love, part of her still craved romance and glamour. Steve wouldn’t likely provide that, but down the road, somebody would.

  It was January 6. The year had flipped while they were in Mexico.

  This was her year. The year she would leave her miserable husband and find her true life.

  It was 41 degrees and Brittany’s computer indicated a wind chill of only 30. She wasn’t wearing gloves and neither were the climbers, but she didn’t have to worry about her life if her fingers cramped.

  “Well, Brit? What’s it going to be? Are you going up or not?” Fernando stared at her, and Brittany felt like telling him to fuck off. Why not?

  “I’ll wait. You go get the damned bird.”

  Carlos laughed and she was sure she heard him say, “Stupid bitch,” but he walked away before she could reply.

  It looked like they’d stopped climbing. She guessed they were three hundred feet up… thirty stories. They looked like they were glued to the cliff.

  “Who’s the stupid one, Carlos?” she asked.

  Chapter 14: Team Genius

  Jonathan - Porto Velho

  Jonathan Lewis knew his reputation. Plain and simple, he was an asshole. He was a loudmouth who always knew best and who didn’t tolerate the bullshit spewed from the idiots who always seemed to surround him.

  His reputation had formed when he was in high school, when he stopped biting his tongue whenever somebody said something stupid. His I.Q. was 146; anything over 140 was classified as genius. Once he found that out, he started ensuring that everyone around him knew how to treat him: like he was always right.

  Because I am, he thought.

  Crowds weren’t good for him. He tended to disperse them and work alone or with the few close friends he could tolerate, including Pietre and Samantha.

  Now, though, he had both of them, but also Team Superior: Tanya, Maria, and Emma. And the two camera people, Jackie and Cathy.

  Plus the locals scurrying around.

  “Too fucking crowded here,” he said. He was looking right at Emma. “We should talk. Alone.”

  Emma froze, not knowing how to react. She hadn’t told her teammates that she was in a relationship with Jonathan.

  He smiled. “For the good of our teams, we should work out how we’re going to communicate and that should be with one person from each team. You okay with that?”

  Emma looked to Maria and Tanya, who seemed to encourage her. “’Kay,” she said. “We can do that for now.”

  “This way.” Jonathan put his hand on Emma’s shoulder, leading her down a path that led to an outdoor café. He somehow knew enough Portuguese to ask, “Podemos nós ter dois cafés?” Can we have two coffees?

  Emma didn’t even question that he’d know Portuguese. Why wouldn’t he? He knew everything. He knew it was one of the things that attracted her to him, and he loved to reinforce that.

  “I’ve missed you,” he said in a softer voice. “I kept thinking of you traveling to all those islands and wishing you were on my team.”

  She smiled and he once again remembered how he’d fallen in love with her. His stomach seemed to clench and he couldn’t take his eyes off her. She’s so beautiful.

  It was only a few months since they’d first met, but it was like they’d known each other forever. She was locked into his heart like nobody else had ever been.

  He wished he could tell Samantha and Pietre, but that wasn’t a good idea. It would ruin the plan.

  Emma glanced back to be sure that the other teammates weren’t watching and then reached out and touched Jonathan’s hand. “Are you having a good time?”

  He smiled. “All I see is the ten million dollars.” He clenched her
hand. “It’s already ours.”

  “Really? I think my team has something to say about that.”

  He laughed. “I mean ours. Yours and mine. You know that Cynthia brought us both on the show for a reason. She planned for us to work together. Nothing else makes sense.”

  “Well, she obviously knew about us. She asked me about you in the interviews and I’m sure she asked you about me.”

  “She wants us to win.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Definitely. She’s rigged the show for ratings. She knows that if we work together, it’ll be the best thing for the show. And if we win together, the finale will go through the roof.”

  “Well if both our teams win, that means a six-way split.”

  “Nope. Not if our teammates don’t finish with us.”

  The waitress brought two cups of coffee, espresso. Jonathan didn’t much like espresso, but he was happy to get coffee of any kind.

  Porto Velho was just about in the middle of nowhere, right in the heart of the Brazilian rain forest. All around the town were thousands of square miles of jungle, and both teams would be making their way through it in the morning.

  Emma said, “I can’t just mess up my team. They deserve to win as much as I do.”

  “I know you think that now, but let the idea percolate for a while. We’re going to be working together, and it’s our ideas that will make us win the race. Yours and mine. If the two of us show up together at the end of the race, well…” He hesitated. “I know on my team, Samantha and Pietre will just do anything I tell them to. I bet it’s the same with you.”

  “I don’t know about that.”

  “Just think about it.”

  She sipped her coffee and made a face. “Yucch.”

  Jonathan laughed. “Finish it. You’ll get used to that, too.”

  Just then, Pietre walked over to the table. “So what’s the plan, guys?”

  “We meet up again in Rio Branco,” said Jonathan. “We can phone each other along the way and help each other with strategy.”