CHAPTERTWENTY-TWO
Day Twenty-Seven—Five teams remaining
Archer
“We can’t do it,”I told Lauren.
I was following my gut, which had never steered me wrong. Linda had brought us a note detailing a competition we had this morning. Every team had to trek three miles through the jungle, each team following a different course. The first four teams to finish would advance. And with Lauren as sick as she was, there was no way we were going to be one of those teams. I didn’t want to risk her health any further when there wasn’t a single good reason to do so.
“It’s shady in there,” she said. “I’ll be okay.”
My mouth dropped open. “It’s still a jungle, Lo. It’s more than a hundred degrees in there, and you have a fever.”
“I’m not quitting.”
“It’s not quitting if you’re medically unable to continue.”
She glared at me. “I can continue. If we aren’t in the top four, then we’re out. I’m not quitting.”
We’d been having this circular conversation for more than ten minutes. It was maddening, because Lauren reminded me of myself. I’d played hockey while injured many times. That was just part of the game. If we weren’t bleeding heavily or unconscious, we kept playing.
This was different, but I’d be damned if I could convince her.
“Look, if you take a bad turn in that fucking jungle, I can’t just call 911,” I said, stepping up my efforts to convince her. “Linda would have to call for help on her satellite phone, and it could take more time for help to arrive than you’d have. It’s not worth risking that for any amount of money.”
“I’m not dying, Archer.” She lowered her brows stubbornly. “I have a stomach bug. I’m not giving up my shot at half a million dollars when we’re this close. Stop treating me like I’m not strong enough.”
This woman was going to be the death of me. I’d tried everything short of losing my shit and telling her we were done, like it or not.
“It’s not about being strong enough.” I got down on my knees next to the entrance of the shelter, where she was sitting with her legs crossed in front of her. “It’s about your body having limits. This fever and exhaustion is a sign that your body is telling you something’s wrong. You need to see a doctor.”
She stood up, bracing herself on one of the posts supporting the shelter. “I’m doing this, okay? I’m not quitting.”
Shit. This was going to get ugly.
“Well, you can’t do it without me,” I said.
She furrowed her brow. “You’re going to quit? Over this?”
I threw my hands in the air. “I don’t know what else to do. You’ve been sick for a couple of days. You can barely walk to the edge of the shoreline. How are you going to make it three miles in the jungle?”
“One step at a time.”
“Don’t be a smartass, Lo. This is serious.”
“I’m not being a smartass. I’m doing this competition, and if we finish last, then we finish last. But I’m not quitting. And if you quit, I’ll be so damn pissed at you, Archer. Half a million dollars doesn’t mean much to you, but that money can change my life.”
“Half a million dollars doesn’t mean much to me? That’s a bunch of bullshit.”
“Well, you make millions every year! I’m a teacher.”
Linda cleared her throat loudly, and when we looked over, she tapped on her wristwatch.
“Time to go,” Lauren said.
“This is a bad idea.”
“We’ll be together the whole time. All we have to do is walk. I can walk. Look.”
She walked ten feet through the sand, turned around, and walked back to me. I shook my head, realizing my gut was going to lose this one. I’d carry her out of the jungle if I had to, but I didn’t want it to come to that. I was worried about her when she was lying in the shelter doing nothing, so I didn’t know how I’d be able to stand by while she did this competition.
“Come on,” she said softly. “We can do this. It’s time to go.”
I didn’t respond, but I picked up our canteens and my machete, which was an answer in itself. We walked to the competition site in silence, Linda following and filming.
When we arrived at our destination about thirty minutes later, Lauren’s face was redder than usual. I knew she was burning up. She tried to reassure me with a forced smile.
“Welcome to our final five teams,” Josh said once filming started. “Are you guys ready to hear about the competition that will narrow it down to four?”
He explained that we’d be collecting markers from boxes, just like we’d done when our friends and family had visited. But this time, we’d exit the jungle on the other side of the island, and the final four teams would celebrate there tonight with a luau.
A luau meant food, which Lauren needed badly. All we had to do was get through three miles. I looked over at Lauren and she met my gaze with a confident smile. I guessed we were really doing this.
A production assistant drove Lauren, Linda, and me on an ATV to the spot where we’d start our route for the competition. We were left at the starting point with only some water and a map. I shook my head, packed the water into my backpack, put it on, and led the way in.
I chopped through the foliage until we found a clear path, matching what was marked on our map. Our first two markers were easy to find, both of them in boxes along the path. The third one, though, was high up in a tree.
“Guess I’m climbing,” I said, shrugging off the pack.
“I hope there aren’t snakes up there,” Lauren said.
“Me too.”
The tree was a bitch to climb, because I had to pull vines off of it to get a good hold. It took me a solid fifteen minutes to get the marker, and I was breathing hard when I jumped down to the ground from a low branch.
“Want some water?” Lauren asked me, offering up a canteen.
I took a swig and then studied her. “You doing okay?”
“Yep, ready to go when you are.”
We continued, collecting thirteen of the twenty-two markers we had to get when we found a note with our names on it inside the thirteenth marker box.
“Are you better together or apart?” I read out loud. “From this point on, you’ll each finish the competition on your own. One of you will take the original map and continue, collecting the remaining markers. The other will wait in this spot for twenty minutes and then follow, using this extra map. When the second team member completes the competition, then that will count as the finishing time for your team. Good luck finishing in the top four.”
I met Lauren’s gaze, a leaden sense of dread in my chest.
“We can’t split up,” I said.
“We have to. And we can’t spend a bunch of time arguing about it. The other teams will beat us.”
I considered our options, not liking either scenario.
“I don’t want you going first, because you can’t climb trees to get markers.” I put a hand out, amending my statement immediately. “I mean, you can, but I hope we both agree that you don’t need to be doing it when I can.”
“So you go first,” she said.
“Hell no. I’m not leaving you behind. What if you get lost?”
She gestured at Linda. “Satellite phone, remember?”
“Which one of us are you staying with?” I asked Linda.
She put her camera down. “I have to stay with the second team member, so I can get video of the finish.”
Lauren gave me a victorious look. “Perfect. I’ll have Linda in case of an emergency, so you can go ahead and get all our markers.”
I didn’t like this. But I also didn’t see what other choice I had. There was no way I’d be able to convince Lauren to throw the towel in on the competition. She’d made it through a little more than half of the competition so far, and she seemed to be feeling okay.
“You’re sure?” I asked her. “Because we don’t have to do this.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yes. Get moving so we can finish in the top four.”
I took off the backpack and offered it to her. “I want you to take the water.”
“Not all of it, though.”
I nodded. “I’ve got a canteen, and I only have a little over a mile to go. I’ll be at the finish in less than an hour. You take the water.”
She gave me a playful smile. “So if I take this bag, you’ll go?”
Reluctantly, I nodded. She took the bag, which dropped toward the ground in her grasp.
“It’s heavier than I thought,” she said, picking it up and putting it on.
I turned to Linda. “You won’t leave her?”