by Carly Morgan
“Oh, good.” Callan matched her tone.
The contestants were lined up outside the banquet hall with their trainers while an announcer called them in by order. Emmanuel Kant, the man who had his face beaten in on the first day of training went first with his trainer, Ace Calhoun, by his side. Contestants No. 16 and 18 went next; Callan couldn’t keep track of either of their names, and then went the cat burglar, Indigo Steele, No. 35. They shuffled in slowly, taking a long time to call the next one in, and Callan wondered what they were doing in there. He already wanted it all to be over.
“This is taking forever,” Kaelia murmured his thoughts out loud. He was about to answer, before realizing she wasn’t speaking to him, but to Contestant No. 69 in front of her, Lux Beacon.
“You think they’re serving drinks at this thing?” he responded, his arm draped around his own trainer, Maddie Drew.
“I wish they were serving drinks now,” Kaelia responded.
Callan narrowed his eyes, wondering what she was talking about. In their three weeks of knowing each, Callan had never once heard Kaelia mention wanting a drink, and he was pretty sure he knew why. He couldn’t tolerate the stuff himself, and was pretty sure being infused with animal DNA had something to do with why he’d get sloshed after only half a drink. He guessed Kaelia might have the same problem.
“Probably not the best idea to drink tonight,” he spoke up. “Not if you don’t want to be hung-over for the competition tomorrow.”
“He’s probably right,” Maddie stepped in. “At least not until after we find out what they’re going to have you doing tomorrow.”
“Oh, so if you’re saying the contest has anything to do with infiltrating Amity’s scandals and cover-ups, I’m good for a few rounds?” Lux joked, smiling all around. Callan didn’t smile back.
“They won’t give us drinks anyway,” Kaelia muttered. “Could you imagine? Let’s take a room full of twenty violent and angry offenders and get them good and drunk.”
Lux laughed at her joke, and Callan caught him drinking her in with his eyes. So did Maddie, apparently, her face going stiff. “You look good tonight,” Lux nodded at the ensemble Kaelia had finally managed to throw together.
“You do,” Maddie agreed quickly, her grip tightening on Lux’s arm. “But with the stylists the show hired, it’s kind of hard not to, right?”
“Right,” Kaelia said ironically, and Callan watched her eyes glower for just a moment when she thought no one was looking.
Of course, only Callan knew the stylists had nothing to do with how Kaelia looked tonight, and she did look good. Fantastic, actually. With her hair styled into loose waves, eyelashes curled and thickened with mascara, lids rimmed with a smoky coal, and her face dewy and glowing from the humid climate, she hardly looked like the same girl who sat up on that stage when Callan had been assigned as her trainer. She also wore a silky, coral-colored dress that matched her lips, the sides and the back cut out to show off her shimmering skin. On her feet, a simple open-toed flat, with a single woven bracelet around her ankle. She wore no other jewelry, besides the ominous tracking band.
“See you out there,” Lux said encouragingly as it was almost time for him to be called. “If the contest is a sparring match, I hope I don’t get paired against you.”
Kaelia grinned, but didn’t say anything, and a moment later contestant Number 69 and his trainer were called out, and they disappeared behind a large set of double doors. Callan could hear cheering from inside, along with the show’s host, Mick Dirkhead, blathering on.
“You’re in a social mood tonight,” he remarked, finally left alone with her, save the three other contestants and their trainers behind them.
Kaelia shrugged distantly. “Yeah? Lux is my friend. You know that.”
Yeah, he knew it. Knew that he was her only friend here, out of nineteen other contestants. “Why do you suppose he’s always so… friendly?” Callan probed. It’s not that he was jealous of Lux, per se. There was just something he didn’t trust about the guy.
Kaelia cut her eyes at him, unimpressed. “He’s a journalism and communications major, that might have something to do with it,” she told him dryly. “If your job was to try to get people to trust you enough to spill their secrets to, you might be friendlier, too.”
“Thankfully it’s not,” Callan said.
“Yeah,” she scoffed, somehow managing to agree with him while also getting a jab in.
Suddenly, they were cued to go in, and everything seemed to go by in a blur. Cameras and lights pointed at them as they walked down a long carpet to an enormous banquet table, laid out with enough bread rolls and hors d’oeuvres to feed a small city. They were directed to separate and walk along across opposite sides of the table, eventually taking seats across from one another. He was next to Maddie Drew, and she was next to – well, who else but Lux Beacon. The table was very nearly as wide as it was long, so that Callan was sure he would have to shout to Kaelia if there was anything he wanted to say.
Everyone was already sampling the delicacies laid out before them, and Callan watched as Lux lifted a platter to Kaelia of some small little tidbits wrapped in bacon. He must have made a joke, because she smiled, the sight of it twisting something up inside him. Damn that Lux Beacon. At least Kaelia didn’t seem quite so nervous. Callan grabbed a roll and stuffed half of it in his mouth before buttering the rest of it.
“You don’t have to worry for long.” Suddenly, there was a voice beside him, and long fingers touching his arm. He drew it away. Lux’s trainer, Maddie, smiled sympathetically at him.
“I’m not worried,” Callan grumbled, lowering his eyes.
“The man might know how to charm a woman, but when put up against the rest of this lot, he’s going to crumple like a wet napkin,” Maddie went on, her voice easy-going despite her grim statement.
“You don’t have much faith in your boyfriend,” Callan said disapprovingly.
Maddie laughed, the sound high as glass clinking together. “Boyfriend? He’s not my boyfriend. Just a friend.”
“Hmm,” Callan couldn’t say more without being insulting. “So you think he’ll be one of the first ones out?”
“Yes, unfortunately,” she said, sighing wistfully. “It’s a shame really. I’ll miss him. But at least you won’t have to worry about him moving in on your territory.”
“Territory?” Callan realized suddenly he was awful at playing dumb. Nonetheless, he went on anyway. “You mean No. 72? She’s not my territory.”
She laughed again, shorter this time. “Darling, Lux and I share the suite across the hall from yours. You think we don’t hear what goes on? Besides, I see the way you look at her.”
Callan blushed. A deep, hot, crimson shade of blush. Her bold insinuation shocked him, almost as much as it did to hear her claim she shared Lux’s suite, and he shared Kaelia’s – like they were all a bunch of suburbanites in the same cul-de-sac or something.
Luckily, they were interrupted by a waitress who came to take their order; lobster, chicken, ribs, or the vegetarian option. Callan wasn’t very hungry, and took the chicken. The room seemed to be practically buzzing with anticipation. The showrunners were flitting about, fitting everyone with a mic and making sure things were going smoothly.
A female producer, Callan couldn’t remember her name, crouched over Kaelia and whispered something in her ear. Kaelia scowled, and Callan felt his body tense, wondering what the issue was. Kaelia’s expression twisted, and she said something back to the producer that made the woman’s face pale. Callan started to rise from his chair, wondering if he’d have to get in the middle of something. A moment later, the producer walked away. Kaelia caught him looking at her and smiled sweetly. Callan sat back down, trying his best to smile back at her, though he was sure it came out terrible.
“She’s a feisty one.” Maddie Drew had also witnessed the interaction, and she leaned over to whisper to him now, “You better watch out for her.”
Callan was
startled, as well as unclear on what she meant. Did she mean he should be protecting her from others, or protecting himself from her?
The food came out almost instantly, and Callan figured it was mostly to shut them all up as the show’s host Mick Dirkhead was taking the stage now. Unfortunately, there seemed to be a technical problem. The stage crew was rushing to try and fix it, and Mick Dirkhead looked like he’d been forced to eat twenty lemons whole. He was saying something, but Callan couldn’t hear what, until the speakers suddenly went on and his voice was amplified several decimals.
“You idiots, it’s not that complicated to figure out, it’s your job!” Suddenly, he quieted, realizing everyone could hear him. Like a magic curtain had just waved over his face, his expression turned from sour to pleased to be here, and he laughed lightly. “Sorry about that, folks! Working in television, am I right? Are we rolling yet?”
A showrunner counted him down, and suddenly Mick Dirkhead’s cheesy smile filled a large screen behind him. Callan felt nervous all of a sudden, remembering why they were here.
“Ladies and gentlemen, the contestants of Amity’s People Party’s Competition, and their lovely trainers. Thank you for gathering here this evening!”
Callan tucked into his meal as Mick went on and on, recapping the highlights of last week’s show. There was the time Lauza LaRue, the serial killer, had gotten into an argument with her female trainer about the way she wore her hair during their sessions. Then there was the time Emmanuel Kant’s trainer, Ace Calhoun, had thrown him off a raft in the middle of the ocean and waited until he was almost dead from drowning to pull him back in. Not to mention all the times the cameras followed Lux and Maddie around as they did more making out and lounging around in hammocks with their legs intertwined than training. No wonder Maddie was sure he was going to lose.
After the cameras caught him sparring with Kaelia during their very first session together, Callan had smartened up about things. They kept away from the cameras; they laid low. He knew the less attention they drew to themselves, the better.
“But enough about last week,” Mick Dirkhead finally wrapped up his relentless repetitive recap. “It’s time to get into this week. Now, as you all know, it’s your last week of training, and time to get into the actual competition! And, as I’m sure you’re all very excited to learn what you’re going to be doing these next few weeks, I’ll get right to the point!”
He couldn’t get to the point if it stabbed him in the face, Callan thought to himself, pushing his plate away and wiping his lips with a napkin. His stomach was turning too many flip-flops to eat, and apparently so were many of the others. Nearly everyone was still, their meals left untouched. Except, he noticed, Kaelia. She was sucking barbeque sauce off her fingers, intent to focus on her meal, practically ignoring Mick Dirkhead altogether. After her first week or so on the resort, she had suddenly gotten her appetite back, and it gave Callan a strange sort of gratification to see her eat. At the same time, he wondered if she was really as unconcerned as she looked, or if it was an act.
“Now, folks, there’s a reason this island was chosen as the ideal spot for the competition. Not only does it make any attempts of escaping off of it very unlikely…” Mick Dirkhead paused for laughter, but there was none. He went on awkwardly, “But it also has eight of the world’s thirteen climate zones, and is one of the most ecologically diverse landscapes in the world.”
The screen behind him changed to show some of the island’s terrain; from black and white sand beaches, to lush rainforests, grasslands, and scorched lava deserts. His mind spun trying to come up with what this might mean for the competition. A survivalist challenge, maybe? As the screen divulged magnificent sights of underwater coral reefs to ancient, exotic looking trees, Callan was beginning to wonder if this was a geography lesson or a reality TV show competition.
“Over the next month, there will be a total of four challenges,” Mick Dirkhead finally got on with it, and Callan sat to rapt attention. “Five of you will be eliminated each week, until the final challenge, when the last three contestants standing are the winners.”
He was silent, and a tentative cheer erupted from the table. Callan clapped politely and glanced at Kaelia. She was absolutely still.
“For your first challenge – a little hike!” The screen flashed to an image of a mountain, rolling with vine-strangled trees, deep crevices, and rocky embankments. “One of the highest peaks on the island, it may take half the day to reach the top! But you won’t be climbing up, my eager contestants. Oh, no. Tomorrow, you’ll be dropped off at the highest summit by helicopter, and allowed to find your own way down.”
Climbing down a mountain? Callan almost wasn’t sure he heard correctly. This first challenge didn’t sound challenging at all. He looked again towards Kaelia. She was biting her lip in confusion, her expression seemingly echoing his thoughts. Mick Dirkhead continued.
“The first fifteen of you to make it down will go through to the next round. The five stragglers? Back to whatever prison you came from. Worried you’re not the best hiker? Well, there’s a catch of course.”
Callan breathed hard as it seemed every other person at the table held their breath. A catch. Of course.
“Five all-terrain vehicles have been hidden somewhere at the top of the mountain. Find one of them, and you’ll make it down five times faster than on foot. Each ATV fits two passengers; you’ll have to work it out amongst yourselves if you want to share. And the ones left that don’t manage to find a vehicle? Never fear. A note has been sent up to each one of your rooms with a clue on an even easier way down the mountainside. Figure it out, and you might just take first place for the challenge.”
Mick Dirkhead winked at all of them. Callan felt like he might throw up.
Chapter 11
Kaelia
Though Kaelia had been trying her best all night long to convince herself that no matter what the first challenge was, she would easily win it, now she was freaking out a little bit. Clues? Hidden ATVs? With her cheetah DNA, Kaelia could probably run down the mountain almost as fast as some dirt bike, but the whole thing was going to be televised. Kaelia couldn’t very well go outrunning a motorized vehicle without arousing suspicion.
“It isn’t fair,” Kaelia spat to Callan in the elevator on their way back up to the room. Like many of the other gala guests, they’d chosen to forgo live music and dancing in order to go find out what the clue planted in her room was as soon as possible. “They’re doing this to turn the contestants against each other. They just want to stir up fights for ratings!”
Callan tried to calm her with a hushing sound that made her want to punch his lights out. “All right, now chill. You’re stealthy, and fast. There’s no reason you can’t find one of those vehicles.”
Kaelia ignored him as she charged out of the elevator to get to her room. Save for a few security guards, the hallway was deserted, seeing as how Lux Beacon had been one of the only contestants to stay at the party, where Kaelia had last seen him twirling and spinning his trainer, Maddie Drew, across the dance floor as if he didn’t have a care in the world. She wondered what kind of luxury prison he could expect to return to after he lost. It made her angry, a bit, Lux was her only friend here.
She fitted her key card in the slot and almost tore off the door getting through. The note was on her pillow, folded as crisply as a new dollar bill, peeking at her almost mischievously.
“There it is,” Callan pointed out the obvious, but Kaelia thought better than to hurl an insult at him. In the three weeks they’d been together, he had softened her, in a way. Taught her that there was sometimes more than one way to deal with a situation. She was learning, slowly.
So she said nothing as she snatched it off her pillow, her eyes roving over the words so fast she had to take a second to adjust her vision to even read them. After going over them two or three times in her head, she repeated them out loud, dissatisfied. “If you don’t find a ride down the mountainside, stil
l be sure to look on the upside.”
“That’s it?” Callan peeked over her shoulder.
“That’s it,” Kaelia confirmed, lowering the note as she lost herself in thought.
“It’s a metaphor,” Callan said. “But it’s meant to be taken literally.”
“Right,” Kaelia murmured. “But what? Will there be aircraft?”
Callan winced. “Unlikely.” He started unbuttoning his shirt, turning his back to her.
“This is the stupidest clue I’ve ever seen!” Kaelia crumpled it and threw it down, losing her patience. “They probably just want to confuse us more.”
“Don’t be paranoid,” Callan warned her. “We should get ready for bed.”
“I’m not tired,” Kaelia snapped, annoyed. He was always so reasonable and clear-headed. It got on her nerves.
“Not tired?” Callan turned to her as he pulled his shirt off, his tanned skin all supple and smooth. The sight of his muscles always undid something inside Kaelia, made her unfurl and stretch, like a flower opening and reaching for the sun. “Maybe I can tire you out.”
She took a step back as he approached her nearly threateningly. “Doubtful,” she quipped just the same. “It’s the big cat DNA. Makes me nocturnal.”
“Oh, it does, does it?” he murmured, and leaned down to kiss her, tender and gentle, his lips like warm putty on hers. She felt his hands roving down her sides, the silky material of her dress bunching and rippling under his fingers. He reached around her and unzipped it, and she lifted her arms as he helped wiggle her out of it. He stood back, his gaze seeming to swallow her whole, his expression fixed and intent.
“Be careful with that,” she said, as her dress fell from his fingers. “That’s an expensive designer dress you just threw on the floor.”
“But all your clothes look so much better on the floor,” he said, feigning a whine. He took her jaw in his fingers and kissed her again, tilting her neck into an exaggerated angle. Kaelia pulled back and bared her teeth, still not quite used to being manhandled, her mind having an internal struggle with her body, which responded with arousal instead of affront. Callan only grabbed her more firmly, pushing her backwards until she collided into the wall, where he pinned her. “Tell me who you belong to,” he whispered, his mouth by her throat.
