Survive or Die
Page 27
Jeremiah pulled the backing off a blister pad and applied it to the ball of Madison’s foot. Her toenails were painted purple, making it difficult to predict which nails were bruised, and destined to fall off later. He rolled her sock back onto her foot. Lavelle offered Madison a handful of ibuprophen.
“Good idea,” Jeremiah said. “You only need a couple of those pills, though.”
“Poor baby,” Lavelle said.
Jeremiah was amazed at how well Lavelle was faring. She had to be the oldest employee in camp, yet she was out-walking people half her age. After her initial whining, Madison had toughened up. She just might be wilderness wife material.
Jeremiah loosened the laces on boots that were only good for walking through a mall. He handed one to Madison.
“Pull it on carefully. You don’t want those bandages to bunch up.”
“Thanks, Jeremiah.” Madison smiled up at him, looking a lot better after their break.
Rowdy had called all the stations, telling the wranglers to keep people rounded up until everyone was accounted for. The EMT had hauled Doug Bender out on an ATV fifteen minutes earlier. Rowdy finally gave the all clear. The Gold Strike team gathered daypacks.
“I think Bender’s Defenders rigged this so they could rest up,” Ellen grumbled.
“All the teams were stopped,” Jeremiah said. “Bender’s team still has to complete the archery challenge. We can beat them to station five if we get a move on.”
Jeremiah offered Madison his hand. She grasped hold and let him pull her to her feet. The girl had been smart enough to take advantage of the break, while their leader Ellen had paced nervously the entire thirty minutes.
Madison hobbled the first few yards, but loosened up as they put the archery range behind them. From the way Madison hung on Jeremiah’s arm, he guessed she no longer suspected him of homicidal tendencies. She was slowing him down. He didn’t mind at all.
“That was crazy,” Madison whispered. “I almost threw up when I saw that arrow sticking out of Doug’s shoulder. Do you think someone tried to kill him?”
“He told everyone it was an accident.” Jeremiah kept his voice low.
“Sure. He knew he was leaving camp. Doug is safe now, but the rest of us are stuck at Survive or Die with a potential killer.”
Station Five was a simple rope climb up a fifteen-foot cliff. Ellen, Fawn and Tweet had already scrambled to the top. Lavelle stood at the bottom, staring above at her teammates.
“I got to find some other way around,” Lavelle said. “If I fall, I’ll break a hip and my kids’ll send me to the old folks’ home.”
“It will feel counterintuitive,” Jeremiah told her, “but lean back, not forward. If you let your shoulders get too much higher than your feet, everything will fall apart.”
Lavelle took his advice and started up. Jeremiah supported the old gal from behind, until she was out of reach. Then Ellen and Tweet reached down, lifting Lavelle the rest of the way.
“You next,” Jeremiah told Madison.
“I don’t think I can.”
“I’ll be right behind you.” Jeremiah wrapped his hands around hers on the coarse rope. “Remember, lean back.”
Drizzling rain trickled off Jeremiah’s cowboy hat as he watched Madison’s progress. He followed. The Gold Strike Buckaroo Crew jogged to the final station, back at the campfire circle.
Rowdy strutted around, making sure no one cheated by flicking a lighter or striking a match, both forbidden in Station Six. A sheltering tarp had been strung up, but Rowdy reminded everyone that in a real survival situation you’d be sitting in the rain. Despite their impressive lead, the Wild Cats still struggled to get a fire started. When Ellen began to imitate Ted’s technique, grabbing two sticks and rubbing them together, Jeremiah stopped her.
“Everyone, give me your pocket lint. Madison, you still have that lip balm?”
When Jeremiah pulled out his firesteel and scraper, Veronica yelled in protest.
“That’s against the rules! Rowdy told us no matches or lighters were allowed.”
“This isn’t a lighter,” Jeremiah said. “It’s a magnesium tube. Frank’s using one, too.”
Rowdy stepped in to referee. “Mr. Jones is right. And if I could give him and Mr. Hardy extra points for being prepared, I would. In Chapter Nine of my book Twelve Tips for Survival, available in the gift shop, I recommend carrying multiple means for starting a fire.”
Frank struck his magnesium rod with the scraper. A spark flew off, but failed to ignite his kindling.
“See,” Rowdy said. “It requires skill.”
Jeremiah lopped off a slice of lip balm and worked it into the pocket lint. He placed the lint in a nest of fine pine shavings. He struck firesteel and scraper together, casting sparks.
Ted’s sticks had begun to smolder when Frank’s kindling flamed. A moment later, Jeremiah’s sparks flared to life. Although it was very close, the teams conceded victory to Wapiti, and second place to Gold Strike.
Sotheara lined up at the chuck wagon with Aubrey. The lunch options were bologna or peanut butter sandwiches, on white bread. Exciting. Not. Out of habit, they sat on the Stockton’s Revenge bench.
“I miss our old team,” Sotheara said.
“Not enjoying the Wild Cats?” Aubrey asked.
Sotheara shuddered. “They’d run over their grandmothers if it meant they’d win a race.”
“I’m enjoying spending time with my husband, even if it involves this ridiculous game.”
“Some of today was fun. Other than the rain.”
Sotheara confessed she loved the zipline. Aubrey shared her team’s adventure with the logs in the creek. Then their talk turned to the latest camp “accident.”
“If my arrow hit a person instead of a target,” Aubrey said, “I would have confessed.”
“Since I didn’t shoot, you know it wasn’t me. Did Doug have any idea who it was?”
“He hinted that it could be Candace,” Aubrey said. “He also thought Shirley might shoot him, because he was forcing her to pay back money she stole from the company. But you heard her. Shirley claimed she didn’t raid the hazardous waste disposal account. Who else has that kind of access to the company accounts?”
“Me,” Sotheara said, “but I’ve been trying to track down the toxic waste. I mailed water samples to Sage. If toxins are already in the river, we’re talking Super Fund cleanup. Jessie might have seen a dump site, but when I talked to her at the hospital, it’s like her memory was wiped clean with BleachBit.”
Before she could reveal more details about Operation Clean Sweep, Aubrey bumped against Sotheara’s shoulder.
“Check that out.”
“Oh no,” Sotheara whispered.
Madison and Jeremiah held hands while Millie placed sandwiches on their paper plates.
“We have to stop her.” Sotheara stood.
“I had a conversation with Jeremiah,” Aubrey said. “Madison could do worse.”
Sotheara had declared her own truce with the redneck squirrel murderer, but admitting he had redeeming qualities was a far cry from condoning romantic fraternization with the enemy.
“Here come Bender’s Defenders,” Aubrey said.
Sotheara slouched back onto the log as the remaining teams straggled into camp. Nigel and Irena attempted to start a fire while Bender hovered and fretted. When the Belle Starrs arrived, Berdie barked at Shirley, Shawn and Edna to search for dry twigs. The elderly receptionist had switched from her Sunday church services attire back to little old lady Chuck Norris. Once she had kindling, Berdie had a blaze going in under five minutes. Nigel and Irena were still laboring, trying different stick-rubbing methods to no avail.
“How could you hope to compete,” Shirley said, taunting Bender’s Defenders. “We have the woman who invented fire on our Buckaroo Crew.”
“Berdie, you know I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”
Sotheara stood again, intending to play peacemaker, but Aubrey held her arm.
“You don’t want to get caught in the crossfire,” Aubrey whispered. “This isn’t our fight.”
“Slow down, Cowgirls.” Rowdy waved his hands around, as though he was brushing away a cloud of gnats. “This isn’t how we settle scores at Survive or Die camp.”
Berdie switched her attention from Shirley to Rowdy, her hand still on her knife hilt. Her voice was low and calm. Sotheara leaned forward, straining to hear.
“So how is it done?”
Rowdy looked intimidated by the diminutive receptionist. “How— what?”
“How do you settle scores around here?” Berdie asked. “Because I’ve got one to settle with you, Rowdy Hunter.” She slowly slid the huge knife out of its scabbard.
“Look, Miz Placer, I’m afraid you’ll have to spell it out for me.”
“You made a mockery of my great uncle on your pathetic television program.”
“I did that to a lot of people. Who was your uncle?”
“Matthew Stockton.”
Rowdy’s face went pale. A collective gasp escaped the campers.
“Mad Stockton?” Rowdy squeaked.
“That’s right. One entire season you spent perpetuating the lies about my great uncle Matthew.” She took a step toward Rowdy, holding the knife with the tip of the blade pointing to the ground, but there all the same. “Apologize.”
Rowdy shrugged. “To who? Your uncle is long gone.”
“His family isn’t. We’re the ones who have to live under that shadow of suspicion. People whispering behind our backs, convinced we inherited a taste for human flesh.”
Sotheara thought Berdie looked capable of taking a bite out of Rowdy. Maybe carving it out with her knife.
“Now Miz Placer, my show didn’t mean to insult your family. Your uncle is a historical figure, just like Jesse James, or Belle Starr.” He waved a hand toward Shirley’s team.
“Once you’re that well known,” Bender said, “you become more legend than history.”
Probably thinking of himself. Jack Bender, a legend in his own mind.
“Like the guy who floated to space using helium balloons,” Ellen offered.
“No, it was a weather balloon,” Frank said, “and he didn’t reach outer space.”
“He got sucked into a jet engine like a goose,” Fawn said.
While the discussion devolved to arguments about the facts behind urban legends, Rowdy and Berdie continued their standoff. Sotheara noticed one other observer who was not distracted by the tangential discussion. Bud. He smirked at the two, until Millie approached, wielding a spatula like a scepter. Queen of the chuck wagon.
Bud’s glare raked across Sotheara briefly before settling on Millie. He knew she’d been watching him. Nobody ever noticed Sotheara. She was invisible. Except to the creepy wrangler. He had seen Sotheara on the hill, when he was preparing to either help or harm Jessie. She was certain he’d been the one stalking her in the meadow. Fortunately, Millie had his attention now. And the rest of the camp’s.
“Rowdy, you owe a lot of people apologies,” Millie said. “Why don’t you start with an easy one?”
Rowdy frowned at the cook, then faced Berdie and her knife.
“Look, Miz Placer, the writers of my show brought all that up about your uncle. I was just reading a script. They might have played it up Hollywood style, but no harm was done.”
“One little apology, you pathetic bastard,” Millie rasped. “Will it kill you?”
Wow. If Bender’s employees spoke to him that way, they’d be fired inside a heartbeat.
“Miz Placer.” Rowdy pulled his Stetson off and held it over his heart. “If I personally offended you, I sincerely apologize.”
“I accept.” Berdie sheathed the knife, then extended her empty hand. “We’re clear.”
Rowdy grasped her hand and they shook. Berdie turned to the Belle Starrs. Sotheara suspected another apology would be wrung from Shirley for the “invented fire” comment.
Aubrey was happy for Madison, even if her involvement with Jeremiah turned out to be a brief camp romance. The attention from a nice man had to be an ego boost, so she was surprised when Madison approached the log bench alone. Sotheara scooted over, and Madison sat.
“Do you think the photos are ready yet?” Madison whispered. “The portrait shop will probably close soon.”
Aubrey led the women to her room in Otter Creek cabin to retrieve the photo packet stub. She punched numbers into her cell phone, and received a cheery hello from a clerk at Olde Tyme Photography.
“Are my photos ready?” Aubrey asked. “I brought them in yesterday.”
“What’s your name?”
“Aubrey Sommers.”
She heard shuffling as the clerk dug through the photo packet bin Aubrey had seen behind the counter when they dropped the film off.
“I don’t see it,” the clerk said. “Maybe it’s not done yet. I’ll ask my manager.”
The manager came on the line. He remembered processing the film.
“I assure you, Ms. Sommers, we never lose photos. It just doesn’t happen. But I’m afraid we can’t find your packet.”
“Could someone else have picked them up?”
“We don’t ID people when they retrieve their photos. I suppose that is possible.”
When she hung up, Aubrey could tell the two women understood what had happened.
“Someone stole the photos,” Sotheara said.
Madison nodded. “Probably the murderer.”
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
Rowdy clanged the triangle as Madison and her old teammates returned to the bench next to Gold Strike’s. Jeremiah suspected the ladies were up to something. Again. He reluctantly turned his attention to the score sheet on the dry erase board hanging from the side of the chuck wagon.
“Today’s challenge pushed y’all to your limits,” Rowdy said, “but you greenhorns made it back to camp alive, against all expectations.”
“Except for Doug,” Lavelle said.
“I said everyone made it alive. He’s at the hospital doing fine. Right, Mr. Bender?”
Jack rose from his camp chair like a king preparing to make a proclamation to the unwashed peasants. “Doug regrets that he can’t finish the game, but he’ll be with you in spirit.”
He plopped back down in his chair.
“Doug Bender’s job isn’t on the line,” Ellen grumbled.
After what he’d heard in the Lodgepole bar, Jeremiah suspected Doug’s position at Bender Clips was as insecure as the lowliest employee’s. But he kept his intel to himself. No telling how this was going to play out. He might need every advantage.
“I’ll bet you Buckaroos want to know who won keys today.” Rowdy pointed to the first photo projected onto the chuck wagon. “The map and compass challenge went to Bender’s Defenders.” Rowdy clicked to a photo of Station Two shelters. “Good thing the Belle Starrs weren’t counting on that to keep them dry tonight. They wouldn’t have survived. Bender’s Defenders take that key, too.”
Rowdy ignored angry muttering as he clicked to photos of the zip line and the hike up the middle of the creek. Most campers climbed onto the bank like drowned rats, but Candace and Veronica looked like competitors in a wet T-shirt competition. Jeremiah felt a blush creeping across his face. He looked away.
“Gold Strike got their entire team across the creek on the zipline. All the other teams dropped at least one Buckaroo in the water.”
The photos of the archery challenge included one of Doug
with an arrow protruding from his shoulder.
“I sure would like to know which one of you cowpokes let their arrow go astray,” Rowdy said. “Now’d be a good time to fess up.”
He paused, scanning the crowd. No one spoke.
The next photo showed Rankin pushing Bender from behind, while Irena and Nigel pulled him to the top of the cliff. The campers were wet, dirty, and tired on the trail back to camp. Except for the Wild Cats. They looked fresh and ready for more. The fire-making scenes prompted a few nervous giggles. Jeremiah noticed Berdie’s fingers twitching above the handle of her knife. And then it was over, the scores tallied up.
Buckaroo Crews
Wild Cats – 23 keys (1st archery, canoe, cliff climb)
Ted, Kimberly, Sotheara, Belinda, Gwen, Veronica, Arianna, Luis
Bender’s Defenders – 17 keys (map, shelter)
Doug, Jack, Candace, Irena, Nigel, Rankin
Wapiti – 22 keys (ATV, 2nd archery, fire)
Frank, Grant, Omari, Sam, Althea, Aubrey
Belle Stars – 7 keys (Edible Plants)
Shirley, Shawn, Della, Edna, Berdie
Gold Strike – 10 keys (zipline)
Ellen, Tweet, Lavelle, Fawn, Jeremiah, Madison
The Wild Cats and Wapiti, to no one’s surprise, took first and second place. The shocker was Bender’s Defenders moving into a solid third, which more than a few people noted was odd, if not downright impossible. Gold Strike took fourth, and Belle Starrs dead last.
“There are no teams for the final challenge,” Rowdy said. “No one got skunked, so you Buckaroos all have a chance at opening a treasure chest. You can go it alone, but if you read my book, Twelve Tips for Survival, available in the gift shop, Chapter Six talks about the Buddy System. I’d advise you to team up with someone who can save your keister.”
The rain chose that moment to increase, hammering on the tarp over the fire circle. Jeremiah wasn’t surprised when several people groaned.
“Can’t we quit now?” Lavelle Johnston asked. “This weather isn’t getting any better.”
“Let the Wild Cats and Wapiti duel to see who wins.” Shirley huddled inside a blanket.