Survivalist Reality Show: The Complete Series

by Grace Hamilton

  And then Heather came into the room carrying a tray with glasses on it. “Here’s some fresh water.”

  Everyone quickly grabbed a glass, sucking the water down in seconds. Regan’s throat had been unspeakably dry after the smoke and saltwater, not to mention the exertion of getting away from the island and then here. The water felt good coating her raw throat.

  There was a round of thank-yous before Heather returned the tray and empty glasses to the kitchen. She came back into the room immediately afterward, taking the one available chair and folding her hands in her lap.

  “What happened?” Travis asked once his mother was settled.

  “Travis,” Heather admonished. “Don’t be rude.”

  “It’s fine,” Wolf said, sliding down the wall, his legs stretched out in front of him.

  “I’m sorry I don’t have much furniture,” Heather said, a hint of embarrassment in her voice.

  “It’s fine,” Wolf assured her, looking up at his father, who sat down next to him after a moment.

  Everyone turned to look at Travis then, the last man standing. Regan thought it was a bit of a power struggle. He was the man of the house and wanted everyone to know it. Somehow, it was actually endearing.

  “Have a seat, Travis,” Heather said in a soft voice.

  Travis looked at her before dropping to the floor himself, his knees bent up in front of him and his wrists resting on his knees.

  “The island is on fire,” Wolf said simply.

  Heather’s mouth dropped open. “Oh no! Lightning?”

  “Yes,” Wolf answered.

  Lily scoffed. “No, not just that. My crazy ex-stepmother.”

  Heather looked at Wolf. “What? You were married?”

  Regan smirked. Despite the awkward look on Wolf’s face, she was glad she wasn’t the only who’d been in the dark about Wolf’s history.

  “Yes. We divorced a long time ago,” he said simply.

  “Six years ago,” Lily clarified.

  Wolf shot her a look over the arm of the couch. Lily shrugged a shoulder in response.

  “Virginia, my ex-wife, was jealous, and trapped us inside the house. Lightning struck a tree which fell on the house, and that’s how the fire started,” he said, staring at Lily while he said it. “It spread from there.”

  “Well, we could have put it out if she hadn’t had us locked in that room. She had a little army. They had guns,” Lily added for dramatic effect.

  “Are you okay?” Travis asked, concern creeping into his voice.

  Lily smiled. “I’m fine. We managed to escape.”

  Heather shook her head. “The house is a loss?”

  Wolf nodded. “It is, as is the island and everything I had stockpiled.”

  Heather tisked. “I’m so sorry. That is terrible. You’re welcome to stay here. I know it’s small and we have very little, but I’m willing to share.”

  “Thank you,” Wolf answered, but he was already shaking his head. “We’ll be moving on. We don’t want to impose. We only came here tonight because of the storm,” Wolf added with a smile.

  “Where will you go?” Heather asked.

  “The swamp,” Lily grumbled.

  “The swamp?” Heather echoed as if she wasn’t sure she’d heard correctly.

  Wolf cleared his throat. “When all of this started, I was filming for my new season of the show. We were deep in the swamp.”

  Heather nodded, clearly still not understanding. “Oh,” she said.

  Fred sat forward. “We feel the swamp will be safer. There are too many people here. Too many risks. There’s not much there in the way of supplies, but we were able to save some things from the island before we left, and there is something of a framework in place to build out there.”

  Heather nodded her head in understanding. “Ah, I understand. It is dangerous out here. It’s hard to tell what’s hiding on any given street.”

  “You should go with us,” Lily blurted out.

  Everyone in the room turned to look at her. Regan’s eyes darted over to Wolf, judging his reaction. He looked taken aback, but quickly recovered.

  “Oh, I don’t know about that,” Heather said with an awkward smile.

  Regan could see the hope in her eyes, though—and it was the final strike in telling her that the swamp made sense. If this woman who’d been living in her own home on the mainland was prepared to abandon it, in hopes of joining a group in the middle of nowhere…that meant something. From the look in her eyes, Heather knew her time in her own home was limited.

  Wolf was right. The gangs had to be spreading out like a group of locusts, devouring everything in sight—including the people.

  “It’s an option,” Wolf said, his eyes moving between Heather and Lily.

  “I don’t know if I’m ready to leave my house,” Heather whispered.

  “Mom, you said we were going to have to go any day now,” Travis hissed.

  “Shh,” she shushed her son.

  Travis looked around the group, and then back to his mother, but there was no disguising the hope in his voice. “Mom, they can keep us safe. We can work together.”

  “Why don’t we talk about it in the morning?” Wolf suggested. “The two of you might want to discuss it without all of us listening in, I’m sure,” he added, looking pointedly at his daughter.

  Heather nodded her head. “Yes, good idea. You’ve all had a rough day. Let me see what I can find for blankets and pillows.”

  Tabitha had been resting her head against Geno’s chest. She looked as if she was ready to sleep right where she was—even Lily’s sudden invitation had barely phased her.

  “Please, don’t go to any trouble,” Wolf said, getting to his feet.

  “We’ll all be fine here,” RC added.

  Regan felt the exhaustion and the adrenaline rush fading as they spoke, pulling her down, as well. She could sleep right where she was, without a doubt. Still, Heather ignored their protests and returned a few minutes later carrying a stack of blankets in varying sizes and colors. She quickly distributed them before excusing herself, dragging her son along as well and insisting that he also get to bed.

  In seconds, they’d all lain down in various spots around the living room, barely in their own spaces. Just like they had stretched out on the ground together while first traveling, on so many nights on their way out of the swamp.

  “I can’t believe we’re going back to the swamp,” Geno muttered.

  “Me, either,” Regan agreed.

  “At least it will be much easier going back in than it was coming out,” Fred rationalized.

  Regan wasn’t quite so sure. She thought about the people they had encountered on the way. Would they still be there? Were they all dead? She closed her eyes, blocking everything out and focusing on sleep. She didn’t want to think about any of it anymore. It was a problem for tomorrow.

  26

  Lily

  Dear Diary:

  Everything has changed. My home is gone. Everything is gone. Even my diary. I’m starting over in a new notebook Heather was nice enough to give me. I wasn’t going to bother. What’s the point? Heather told me writing is a good way to work through my feelings and encouraged me to keep writing. She said, one day, I’m going to look back at these diary entries and smile. She says even bad times have a tendency to look a little better with some distance. I don’t know about that, but I know Heather has had a lot of bad times in her life. I’m going to take her word for it.

  Everyone is inside, eating breakfast. I needed a few minutes to myself. Everyone is in a state of shock, I think. Like, no one is really talking. Even Fred. We’re all devastated. The quiet was freaking me out a little, so now I’m outside sitting under a tree and thinking. I still cannot believe my ex-stepmom burned down our house and the island. I can’t believe we lost everything. I have no clothes, none of my things—nothing.

  My heart hurts thinking about how much we lost, and I don’t just mean the house. Everything I had was th
ere. The house and food is a big deal, obviously, but Dad keeps saying that it will be okay. I know Dad is worried, even though he’s trying to pretend he isn’t. They’re all worried.

  Yesterday was a nightmare. I can’t believe Virginia turned out to be so evil. Why us? Why did she have to take everything? My dad says we’re going back to the swamp. I know nobody really wants to go. Regan hates the swamp. I saw how scared she was. I’m not really excited to go, either, but Dad is convinced bad guys are going to be coming to town soon and that our lives will be way worse if we stay here.

  I know I said a lot of bad stuff about Regan in my last diary. I’m not exactly her best friend, but I think I have to give her a bit of a break. Last night, she saved my dad. I have to give her some credit. Plus, she helped me in the storeroom. She was the only one who went back in. I guess she’s not as bad as I thought. I’m still not happy that she moved in on my dad so fast, but I think she really cares about him. No one else was brave enough to stand up to Virginia. Only Regan.

  Now, we’re here with Travis and Heather. My dad pulled me aside this morning and told me I need to talk with him before I invite anyone else to join us. It’s Heather and Travis, though. They aren’t just anyone. It isn’t like we’re bringing them into our house. We don’t have a house. We don’t have food. We have nothing. He said he understands why I invited them, but wants to make sure I don’t go handing out invitations without talking with him first in the future. Like I would do that—he should know me better than that, but I guess I surprised him when I invited them.

  I’m just glad we all got off the island alive. I was so scared…more scared than I’ve ever been in my life. I’ve never seen Grandpa so worried before, either. When we drove up and down the shoreline looking for Dad, I could see how scared he was. He told me to look in the water in case Dad had tried to swim away. Fred took one side and I took the other. I thought for sure he was dead.

  I think Travis is worried about his mom, too. We got to talk for a few minutes this morning. He said one of the men in town has been giving her a hard time. They have to go with us. Travis said, if they don’t go with us, they’re still leaving. I laughed when he said he was the man of the house, but I knew what he meant. He’s protecting his mom, which is really sweet.

  I’m not sure what’s going to happen today. I’m dreading the swamp—like, seriously dreading it. I’ve seen alligators before, but in the swamp, without a boat or anything, and no warnings, that’s scary. I know my dad is used to the whole outdoor survival thing, and I don’t mind camping, but this is going to be the real thing. I kind of hope we stay here for a few more days.

  I’m afraid. I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I’m scared. This is the real thing. This is what my dad has been preparing for, but I’m not ready. I don’t want to live in a hut in the swamp. I don’t want to never have electricity again or running water. I can’t think about it anymore.

  If I never write another page, I guess whoever finds this will know what happened. I died. Maybe we all died.

  I hear someone coming. It’s time to go. Bye, for now—I hope.

  End of Surviving the Refuge

  Survivalist Reality Show Book Two

  Blurb

  Wolf has watched his entire world go up in flames. Now, Regan must help him pick up the pieces if they hope to survive…

  After the total disintegration of the island, Regan, Wolf, and the rest of the group decide to return to the one place they’ve called home—the swamp. However, returning isn’t as easy as it seems. The journey across Florida presents a whole new range of horrors as society breaks down, made all the worse when one of their own gets seriously injured. Plus, the team must face the trek with two new members whom some believe don’t belong with them at all.

  With danger and supply shortages at every step, questions are raised whether or not they’re making the best choice in returning. And while Regan believes she’s learned her lesson—groups are the way to go—it’s terrifying to make the final leap and fight not just survive... but to live.

  1

  Regan stretched her arms over her head, only to poke Fred in the side. “Sorry,” she muttered. Beside her, he only grunted in response, and she guessed he was used to it.

  It had been a couple days, but her brain still got confused when she first woke up. She needed a few minutes to orient herself in the dark living room where she and the rest of the group from the island stretched out to sleep at night.

  Truly, Regan missed the couch and the bed she’d sometimes slept in back on the island, and longed for the boring, queen-sized bed back in her old apartment. If she’d known she would never get to sleep in that bed again when she’d left for the reality show, she would have paid a little more attention to the details.

  She couldn’t even remember what her comforter looked like.

  With no other choice now, she shifted her body, trying to give her hip some relief. The hard floor in the living room was extremely uncomfortable. This was one time in her life when she would have appreciated having a little more meat on her bones. Carpeting on the floor would have been nice, too. Of course, she was grateful for the hard floor, even if she did complain. The alternative was sleeping outside.

  It had rained for nearly two days straight after they’d escaped the fiery inferno that was the island, and the storms had only begun to let up overnight. The ground outside was soggy, the air rich with bugs and damp. But at least she no longer smelled smoke in the air.

  She closed her eyes and thought back to the night the island had burned, heavy with the vivid image of Virginia holding a gun on Wolf and the fire’s glow as they’d escaped with their lives. It had seemed like a nightmare at the time, and still it continued to replay in her mind—as if that was exactly what it had been. They’d had so much. Their lives hadn’t been perfect, sure, but they had been safe, comfortable, and had plenty to eat. Now, they were back to not knowing what they were going to do next.

  Worse, Regan had grown to appreciate carrying a gun on her at all times when she’d been on the island. It had made her feel secure, knowing she could handle whatever popped out of the trees and threatened her. As of this moment, though, they had one gun between them.

  And the island had been relatively safe, while the mainland would be far more dangerous—a place where they actually needed the guns they had all been carrying.

  “You awake?” Wolf whispered, his voice echoing into the dim room that had slowly begun to lighten with the rising sun.

  “I am,” she answered quietly.

  “How’d you sleep?” he asked from beside her.

  She scoffed. “As good as can be expected. You?”

  Instead of answering her, he shifted beside her, his hand brushing her shoulder. “I’ve been thinking,” he said simply.

  Regan rolled to her side to face him, looking at his long black hair fanning out around his head before meeting his eyes and prodding him into saying more. “About?”

  “We need to leave. I haven’t heard rain since late last night. I think the storm has passed.”

  She nodded. “Okay. What does that mean?”

  “He means we need to seriously consider going back to the swamp,” Fred interjected.

  Regan jolted at his voice—she’d thought she and Wolf were the only ones who’d woken up.

  “I thought you were joking about that,” Tabitha’s soft voice commented.

  Last night, they had decided to have RC take the couch, with Geno pressed up against the couch on the floor—predictably, they seemed to be the only ones in the room still asleep.

  Lily had slept on the floor in Heather’s room, but their small group of adults was all sandwiched into the living room, making the room feel far warmer and stuffier than it was. The windows were all open, but that did little to circulate the heavy air. Sleeping on the floor made it tolerable, if uncomfortable.

  “We’ll talk more when everyone is up,” Wolf said.

  Regan lay back down on her
back, longing for some privacy. It was impossible to talk with so many people around them all the time. Heather’s house was so little, and with the storm raging outside, Regan had felt trapped all over again.

  Unable to relax now that the conversation had been re-opened, Regan sighed and sat up. “I’m getting up,” she muttered.

  She finger-combed her hair as she stepped over bodies, heading for the front door. She needed fresh air.

  When she opened the door, though, she was assaulted by the smell of wet foliage and what could only be human waste drifting on the slight breeze. It wasn’t pleasant. She drifted over to the flowerbed on the edge of the postage stamp-sized yard and stared down at the haggard petals of Heather’s day lilies.

  Wolf’s voice came from behind her. “Are you okay?”

  She nodded, barely glancing back at him. “Yes, I wanted some fresh air. Usually, I like the way it smells and feels after a big storm, but it doesn’t smell so great out here.”

  “Not so much. We knew the sanitation systems would fail eventually. It’s only going to get worse.”

  “Thanks for the optimism,” she said wryly, looking up to face him as she turned back toward the porch.

  “I want to talk, just me and you.”

  “About?”

  “Returning to the swamp.”

  She groaned. “I know you said it’s the best option and I know there are resources there to make it a little more tolerable than what it was before, but it’s still a swamp. There are still going to be alligators, snakes, spiders, and a ton of mud. That doesn’t sound appealing to me.”

  He shrugged a shoulder. “Here, you have all those things, plus people. Not just people—desperate people. Desperate people are dangerous people.”

  “We could get out of town a little further, maybe go inland. There has to be some abandoned housing we could take over.”

  “And what will we do for food?”