CHAPTEREIGHTEEN
Day Twenty—Seven teams remaining
Archer
When I got backto camp after leaving early to go fishing this morning, Lauren was not only awake, but already cooking a pot of rice.
“Good morning,” she said, looking more rested than I’d seen her in a while.
“Morning. You seem to be feeling better.”
“I am.”
“That’s good.”
I went over to one of the big trees I’d hung our hammock from, using my machete to carve in a marker for our twentieth day here.
“Twenty days,” Lauren said. “That’s not even three weeks. But it feels like a lot longer.”
As soon as I’d sat down and started cleaning the fish, Linda walked into our camp to switch shifts with Nutter. She handed Lauren a piece of paper.
“Competition today,” Lauren said, reading the note. “We’re supposed to be there at ten thirty this morning.”
I glanced at my watch. We had just enough time to finish breakfast and get over to the competition site.
“Whatever it is, we have to smash it,” Lauren said. “Even if we don’t win, we at least have to beat Maks and Irina.”
“I’ll bring my A game.”
“How is Maks as a hockey player?”
I shrugged. “Pretty solid.”
She finished cooking the rice and covered it with a plate, then grabbed her T-shirt from the tree branch it was hanging on. Though it looked like she’d slept great last night, I’d tossed and turned. I couldn’t stop thinking about the night before, and wishing for a repeat.
I knew she was right—it wasn’t a wise move to get involved here, with cameras on us nearly all the tine. But damn, did I want to. During our time here, I’d developed a deep appreciation for Lauren’s resilience and strength.
She pulled her T-shirt on, eliminating my view of her in just a bikini top and shorts. I’d replayed her startled, but turned-on, reaction when I’d ripped off her bikini bottoms at least a hundred times since it had happened.
Unlike me, she seemed to be completely over it. That meant I had to pretend to be, though it was unbelievably hard.
As soon as I finished cooking the fish, we ate quickly, washed our dishes, and got ready to leave camp. I grabbed my own T-shirt from our shelter and held it up to my nose. Shit, it was ripe. I hated smelling bad in front of Lauren, but there was no avoiding it here.
“Ready?” she asked.
“Yep.” I put my baseball cap on. “Was there speed in that Gatorade mix or something? You seem to be feeling way more energetic.”
“I think the electrolytes helped a lot. I feel like I’m finally hitting my stride.”
At least, she thought so until we reached the usual competition site, where we were loaded onto ATVs and taken to the actual site of today’s competition.
“What is this?” she asked me under her breath, looking unsure, as we gathered on a different beach.
“No idea.”
Once the cameras started rolling, she put on her game face.
“How’s everyone feeling?” Josh asked, rubbing his hands together.
“Nervous,” Shayla said.
“Today’s competition will be intense,” Josh said. “But hopefully you’ll find the reward worth it.”
He gestured toward the copse of trees and bushes behind us. “For the first leg of this challenge, only the women will compete. There’s a zip line course through the jungle with seven different platforms. You’ll zip-line from platform to platform with the help of experienced instructors.”
Lauren groaned and leaned her head against my bicep.
“That part of the competition won’t be timed,” Josh continued. “The women only have to complete it for your team to move forward. The men will be waiting at the end of the course, and they’ll complete an obstacle course and sprint, with everyone beginning at the same time. Each member of the teams that complete this challenge gets to attend a cookout on the beach tonight.”
The news was met with raucous excitement. After being here for almost three weeks, it seemed that food was the most gratifying reward for winning a competition. Josh grinned as he listed off the menu items for the cookout.
“Steaks, baked potatoes, pasta salad, corn on the cob, and for dessert—chocolate cake.”
Hell yeah. A good meal would give us the fuel we needed to push forward in this competition. When Josh was finished describing the challenge and the cameras were turned off for the time being, Lauren gave me a panicked look.
“I’m afraid of heights.”
I put a hand on her shoulder. “How afraid?”
She cringed. “I usually just avoid heights so I don’t have to think about it. And this isn’t just heights, it’s flying through the air attached to a tiny cable, hoping you don’t plunge to your death.”
“They’ll have you in a harness. You’re not going to die.”
She sighed heavily. “I might pee myself, though.”
I grinned. “I’m sure you wouldn’t be the first.”
“I’m not saying I won’t do it. I’ll definitely do it. It’s just…not something I’d ever do by choice. I hope I don’t pee and throw up.”
I cupped her face in my hands. “Close your eyes and think about something else. You’re going to be okay.”
She nodded.
“No!” a female voice yelled from nearby. “Nothing you can say will change my mind. I’m done.”
Jill, the partner of a player named Sam Maxwell, was walking away.
Andrea came over to us. “She’s quitting. Said she’s too afraid of heights and she won’t do it.”
Sam looked dumbstruck.
“You can’t quit!” he yelled as he ran after his partner. “We’ve made it this far, Jill!”
“Wow,” Lauren said softly. “So that’s it for them?”
Within a matter of minutes, Jill and Sam were being driven away from the competition site on a golf cart. Looked like that was it for them.
“I just want to get this over with,” Lauren said softly.
Production assistants started loading the male contestants back onto the ATVs then, and I waited until the last second to take a seat.
“You can do this,” I reminded Lauren, squeezing her hand. “I’ll be waiting for you at the end.”
She held on to my hand tightly, exhaling hard when she finally released it.
I had a knot in my stomach as we drove away. She’d have to face this fear alone, without me there to encourage her. I wished I could just do it for her.
It was about a fifteen-minute ride to the obstacle course, which had hurdles made out of hockey sticks, woven ropes we’d have to crawl under, ropes we’d have to climb, giant tires we’d be flipping, and a start and finish line which delineated the distance we’d have to sprint.
The obstacle course wasn’t my worry. Neil and Shayla were still in the competition, and I knew I could at least beat him. It was Lauren that was on my mind. I kept my gaze on the final platform, waiting to see her land there safely.
As the other male competitors talked hockey and island camp life, I stood alone, focused entirely on that platform. It wasn’t that I doubted she’d make it, but that I’d feel better when it was over.
“You worried?” Rod asked, walking over to me.
I shrugged. “Not worried. It’s just that I know she’s nervous about it.”
“Andrea’s got bigger balls than me,” he said, grinning. “But Lauren’s tough. Once she finishes the first one, she’ll feel better.”
“You ever zip-lined?” I asked him.
“Yep, in Costa Rica. It was a blast. What about you?”
“No, but I’d do it if I could.”