by A. Anders
He continued, “So, my paranoid friend, lesson number one: recognizing your allies.”
Brad pointed at the five guys trying to decipher the clue to their group date.
“They are now the enemy. It’s us against them. They’re going on their group date tomorrow morning. We won’t see Rose again until the next elimination. That means that we have two or three days to make sure that one of theirs is the next one eliminated and not one of ours.”
Brad had given me a lot to think about. First, was I really the paranoid one? I broke it down slowly.
Paranoids saw conspiracies everywhere. I watched two guys die in front of me and now I thought that there were people out to get me and everyone else. Hmm…
Okay, yeah. I see how I might sound paranoid to the guys here. And, of course, if an audience was watching us who didn’t see what I saw, they might see me as paranoid as well. Huh! Was I really the paranoid one?
I decided to look at my situation in a different way. If everyone here was playing a role on a TV show, what role does the paranoid play? And more importantly, how long did he survive?
Since I hadn’t seen much TV, I thought instead about movies. And if I wasn’t mistaken, in the movies, the paranoid character survived long enough to tell everyone that they were in danger. After that, they are always the next dead.
Well, crap! I didn’t like where this was headed at all!
If I wasn’t already crazy, thinking about all of this was definitely getting me there. Brad had said that it would be another two or three days before I saw Rose again. I had to figure out how to convince her to keep me around. And I had to do it without actually seeing her.
Needing to clear my head, I decided to spend my day doing a little exploring. I followed the path towards the dock. It was the first time I had seen the path in the daylight. With its smoothed marble pebbles and red brick outline, it was beautifully designed. However, the crunch you heard as you walked on it through the woods alone, that made my skin crawl.
Eventually, I was staring out at the dock. It looked like any other dock. The wooden planks were weathered and worn. The dark brown posts were a foot in diameter and rose four feet above the walkway. There was nothing special about any of it.
Standing where Ian had stood, I examined the planks for stains or blood. I found only water. The sea was calm now, but high tide and rough seas had probably washed any evidence away.
I followed the shoreline south. The concrete seawall continued for a hundred feet. When the wall abruptly ended, the natural cliff face appeared. There was no beach, just vertical rock and crashing waves.
I stared out at the open ocean. Nothing lay ahead. I remembered the two-hour ferry ride. Once the lights of the city receded behind me, the ocean remained pitch black until the light of the dock.
The island had to have more to it than what I saw in front of me, though. Pawns were not fully autonomous. Not only did they have to recharge, but they also received instructions from somewhere.
I followed the jagged coast for an hour. From a clearing, I discovered that our camp was in the lowlands. Behind it, rolling hills stretched for miles. Perched on the highest hill was a metal tower topped with a white-glazed bulb. It looked like a minimally designed lighthouse. Whatever it was, it was worth checking out.
Setting out towards it, I soon realized that the distances on the island were deceptive. What looked like a short walk took hours.
The constant shifts in elevation and uneven terrain had turned my casual walk up the coast into a three-hour hike back to camp. I hadn’t planned to end it there. But having missed lunch, and with only a few hours until dinner, I left the highlands and the tower for another day.
Starved, I headed to the commissary in search of food. Dinner hadn’t been put out yet. I cursed myself for not squirreling leftovers back in my room, and then looked around for something to take my mind off of my stomach.
Scanning the area, I spotted a group of guys by the pool. I headed over, but as I got closer, I realized who they were. It was the same five guys who had been chosen for the next group date. Had Brad been right? Had they formed an alliance?
I thought about injecting myself into their conversation but then remembered the first night at the dock. Mustache Gray had accused me of playing mind games with everyone. He had barely acknowledged my existence since. Maybe now wasn’t a good time to mend fences.
Who else was there? From our group date, Victor Vodka, Fitness Freddy, and Brad were there. Outside of those three, Thorin the Pale and a slimy, corporate-looking guy I hadn’t talked to yet were the other two in the group.
So, if I needed allies to stay in the game, my choices were: an unhappy waiter, a lovable dumb guy, an awkward pale dude, a corporate drone, and a self-declared villain. I was as good as dead.
Or maybe not. There was one other person I hadn’t considered. It was the same person who had kept me around so far: Rose.
Maybe I already had an ally. If Ian was right, then the producers had expected me to be gone by now. Yet, at every elimination, I had gotten a rose. Sure, each time it had been the last rose. But I was still alive, right?
I looked for Brad at dinner. He never came. Neither did Fitness Freddy. Thorin the Pale was there, but there was something weird about him. So with slim pickings, I got to know Bernard, the slimy corporate guy.
It turned out that Bernard was an investment banker. I asked him what an investment banker was doing on a show like this one, and he added “former” to his title. So he was an investment banker like I was a corporate recruiter.
Bernard the Banker was able to fill in some missing information on the others. Mustache Gray was a gun dealer and weapons enthusiast. Brad had gotten it wrong. Obviously Mustache Gray was the paranoid one?
Gray’s round-chested buddy Bob was a bouncer for a club and part-time bodyguard. If I had to give him an archetype, I would call him the blunt instrument. Or maybe he was the loyal thug? Was that an archetype? Perhaps the gangster.
By the end of our conversation, I also had a clear impression about Bernard. He was the heartless businessman. He might have been a contender for the show’s villain if Brad hadn’t already claimed the spot.
As it turned out, Bernard didn’t like Brad. I couldn’t tell why. Bernard just called him a drug dealer who didn’t follow the rules. I found that funny because I didn’t know there were any rules.
I left Bernard feeling a little icky. I wondered how many people he had killed during his lifetime. Investments were the easiest way to start wars these days.
It was well known that corporate interests often outweighed the interests of governments. So when a global corporation was supported by enough investor capital, governments sent armies to ensure a high return on investment.
It was a crappy system. But, as a former corporate recruiter, who am I to complain? I guess life makes whores of us all.
I went back to my room exhausted. I hadn’t gotten much sleep the last two nights. With today’s hike and no elimination tonight, my bed was calling.
Drifting off to sleep, I turned my thoughts to the one person neither Brad nor Bernard discussed. What was Rose’s role in all of this?
I had only spoken to her twice, so I didn’t know much about her. I knew that she may or may not have been nervous the first night, and I knew that she liked bears and didn’t want them killed.
On the other hand, maybe I knew more than that. I did see the way that she handled Buck-Naked Billy when he was drunk. Obviously, she wasn’t someone who was easily intimidated. Also, she had made those jokes about “keeping her clothes on this time.” What did she mean by that?
Too tired to figure it out, I thought about something else: What it would feel like to leave the island like nothing had ever happened. But that was just a fantasy. Even if no one believed me, I knew that only corpses left this island. If I wanted out of here, my best shot would be on Rose’s arm.
Did I have reasons not to like her? Absolutely. First, she
had told twenty guys the same story at the dock. Who does that? Also, she always has to be the center of attention. Oh, and don’t get me started on the way she asks us to risk our lives in challenges when all it does is satisfy her ego.
Yet, if I wanted to stay alive, I had to find reasons to like her. I had to give her a reason to choose me over someone else. As far as I could tell, everyone else had already fallen in love with her.
Why did they love her, though? Sure, she was attractive, but couldn’t they see past her big smile and pretty face? Did they really think that a woman like that would be there for them when they needed her most? Couldn’t they see who she really was?
Feeling my heart race, I let go of the thought. I was exhausted. All I wanted to do was sleep.
Besides, I knew no one was perfect. I certainly wasn’t everyone’s cup of tea. Some might even say that I was a little distant at times. And, when I say “some,” I mean Laura. And when I say “at times,” I mean that that was Laura’s explanation for why she had left me to be eaten by the tiger.
So, no one was perfect, I guess. One thing was clear, though, I wasn’t getting off this island without Rose’s help. I had to make a decision: either I opened my heart to Rose or I died.
I wonder what it said about me that I needed more time to decide.
I was finally falling asleep when my door rattled. I reacted instantly. Unsure of where I was in my half-asleep state, I threw myself on the ground.
“Ford?”
The voice was familiar. Clearing the cobwebs from my mind, I replied. “Brad?”
“You gotta come with me, man. It’s life or death.”
This was it. He had discovered what I had. I stood up, feeling my legs wobble beneath me. I had to wake up, and I had to do it fast.
I stood in the middle of my empty room trying to get my bearings. Was it morning? How long had I been asleep?
“Ford, let me in.”
That’s right, I had to let him in. I focused on one thing at a time. First the door, and then the knob. He entered, bright-eyed and bounding with energy.
“You have to come with me. It’s all going down now.”
“Yeah,” I replied unquestioningly.
I threw on a pair of pants and shoes and followed him out. Marching past the other cabins, he described our battle and “inevitable victory.” He said it was “nigh.”
As my mind cleared, I realized that Brad’s mind was not. Looking at him again, I considered that he might be high, and what confirmed it for me was his plan.
“Grab the other end of the bed,” he said standing over the sleeping Gray.
I wasn’t the only one he had recruited. Fitness Freddy, Victor Vodka, and Bernard the Banker were there as well.
“What are we doing?” I mouthed, trying not to wake Gray, Bob, or Billy as they slept.
“Don’t worry. They’re out. I gave them a little something,” Brad said with a smile. “We all have our marketable trades, right?”
“You told me it was life and death. What are we doing here?”
“It’s a Viking funeral. We’re gonna set these guys off to sea.”
Brad laughed. Freddy, Bernard, and Victor found it equally amusing. What had Bernard said about Brad being a drug dealer?
I grabbed one of the legs of the bed and lifted. Now was not the time to take a stand. I needed allies even if it was with the show’s villain. After all, didn’t the villain usually make it to the end?
One by one, we carried Gray, Bob, Billy, Sam, and Carl to the dock. Even with the bouncing, they all remained asleep. Hell, we dropped Billy, and not even that woke him.
“I can get you high using the contents of any kitchen. Give me all of the flowers and plants on this island… Ha, I can do things to your body that you didn’t even know were possible.”
A marketable trade indeed.
“We can’t have these guys rested for tomorrow. We don’t want them making a good impression on Rose.”
I was getting it now. Brad wanted to keep them edgy. As strategies went, it was a pretty good one.
One by one we floated the bamboo beds and set them adrift. The others were laughing hysterically.
“Are they gonna wake up in China or something?” I asked hoping I was wrong.
“No, it’s a Viking funeral,” Brad said as if it were obvious.
Things became a little clearer when Freddy handed Brad a makeshift bow and arrow. Bernard then stepped in and used the torch he carried as a lighter. Brad was a surprisingly good shot. It took him only one arrow to ignite each bed. He really was recreating a Viking funeral.
With all but one bed lit, Freddy spoke up. “Let me try.”
Freddy wasn’t quite as good of a shot. The result was that Sam took a flaming arrow to the foot. But not even that woke him. That made everyone laugh hysterically. You would have thought that they had just watched someone get hit in the crotch. Were they too high to realize that they had just set another human being on fire?
“So, you’re just gonna let them burn?” I asked, starting to feel as I did as I watched Victor being mauled by the bear.
“No!” Brad turned to me disgusted. “What are you sick? I gave them a special blend. They’ll wake up as soon as they hear a certain frequency.” With that, Brad puckered his lips and blew.
Each of the floating men awoke and released two screams. One was when they realized that they were sleeping in water. The second was when they realized that their floatation device was on fire.
Sam released a few extra screams, of course. He did have an arrow through his foot. And he was on fire.
Sam grabbed the arrow and ripped it out of him. Wrenching, he lost balance and fell into the water. Some of the guys behind me fell onto the ground in laughter.
“Wait for it,” Brad said silencing his mates.
I looked back at the guys and then at Sam.
“Wait for it.”
What was he talking about?
“There,” Brad said pointing at Sam.
I looked again. A shark fin. Sam didn’t see it.
“Shark!” Gray yelled.
It was too late. Sam got yanked under like the bobble on a fishing line. The guys behind me roared with laughter. It seemed redundant, but I asked myself anyway: Is everyone here insane?
“We gotta do something,” I yelled back, trying to sober them up. “What are you all? Fucking nuts?”
“Relax!” Brad chided. “Watch.”
I turned back toward the screaming men. Sam surfaced with his arms flailing in panic.
“The last thing sharks want to eat are people. They’ll take one bite then spit him back up. He’ll get away scot-free. You know, as long as it doesn’t cost him an arm and a leg.” Brad again burst out in laughter. Unable to stand up straight, he joined the others in wiping tears from his eyes.
I watched helplessly as Sam was again dragged under, but just like before, he resurfaced. Each shark was taking a bite and then spitting him out. Surfacing for the third time, he came up next to Billy. Billy reached down and retrieved him.
If Brad was right, the most dangerous part of the scenario was right now, when a leg was exposed. Great whites, bull sharks, they were all native to these waters, but I had never heard of them swarming so close to shore before.
“Hey. Let’s go,” Brad said pulling on my arm.
Apparently, the amusing part was over. Sam was safely on Billy’s bed, and all of the fires were out. All that was left now was for them to swim ashore without losing an arm. I guessed that Brad didn’t want to be there if they did.
Arriving back to camp, Brad followed me to my cabin. He wanted to make sure that I was cool with everything. I wasn’t sure that I was.
Entering my cabin, I planted my ass on my bed and pushed my fingers through my hair. What did I just do? I didn’t know, but I was still alive and in the game. Right now, that had to be my focus.
“You’re not freaked out about that, are you?” Brad asked.
What should I
do? Play along? Tell him the truth?
“I haven’t gotten a lot of sleep,” I told him.
“Nah, it’s more than that,” he said taking a seat next to me. “Relax, man. You can tell me?”
I looked into Brad’s eyes. He looked happy. I’m sure that I looked like a mess.
“None of this bothers you?” I asked him.
“None of what? It’s all a game. You think the show is gonna let them get hurt?”
Did he live in some sort of alternate universe? In my world, people got eaten by sharks. People burned alive. Magic dust could only do so much.
“Come on, relax. It’s all good. You gotta loosen up. You gotta have a little fun.”
And that was when Brad leaned in and kissed me. Wait, what?
“Woah!” I said, pushing him away.
“Oh! My bad,” he said offering me a playful smile in concession. Already halfway to the door, he turned back. “You are full of surprises, aren’t you?”
I couldn’t come up with a reply before he was out the door and gone. It was official. I didn’t know what the hell was going on.
Needless to say, I didn’t sleep that night. Morning came, and I was exhausted. I didn’t know if I should go to breakfast or stay tucked in bed.
Was I now in some type of war with Mustache Gray and his group? Would a brawl breakout at breakfast? Would Brad even show up for the fight he started? More importantly, what the hell was with the kiss? Was he that high?
It took a few hours of sunlight before I gave up on sleep. Sitting on the edge of my bed, I counted. I had gotten about seven hours of sleep in three nights. That wasn’t good.
Gathering my toiletries, I headed to the bathroom. In the shower room, I ran into Billy. Neither of us said a word.
The first thing I did when I entered the commissary was look for the five daters. They were seated together. Brad’s plan had worked. They looked awful.
Not surprisingly, Sam, the one who had been shot in the foot and attached by sharks, looked the best. So he would have been the only one to get the feel-good juice. You had to love magic dust.