Chapter Ten
Savannah knew that in a game like this, even if you had a plan, it would either backfire or Outlast Her would simply swallow it whole. Yet a plan had smoldered in her head over the last day, and she couldn’t believe she hadn’t thought of it sooner.
Savannah didn’t want Kate out. She wanted Luna out.
It had been Luna who had called her a literary bully.
She had been the one throwing that cheap, headline-grabbing accusation into the camera when she knew tens of thousands of book-obsessed fans were watching.
Minutes after the interview had ended, Savannah’s DMs had been flooded with messages.
None of them were kind. “Honestly, I’m glad Luna finally called you out.
Your reviews are bitter.” And “Imagine being so insecure about another woman’s success.
” Savannah’s personal favorite was, “You talk like you hate the readers and honestly, we hate you back.” Just because Savannah had said a few hard and very necessary truths didn’t make her a bully.
It made her honest. On the other hand, it did piss her off enough to exact revenge.
And what better way to get revenge than to vote Luna out of the game?
“Welcome, contestants, to this season’s first Sending,” Naomi announced, clapping her hands together.
She had rings on every finger, delicate gold bands that matched her delicate gladiator sandals, and tonight she wore a Mauritian blue wrap dress with flowy sleeves.
“I have to admit, even I had a moment of awe when I walked into this cove tonight.”
This season’s Sending took place in a tidal cove about two miles from camp.
They had to follow a shelf of rock that skirted the water’s edge to reach it.
The sky hung heavy with humidity, but the sun still bled a dusty orange, making the narrow path relatively easy to navigate.
The same couldn’t be said for later. Savannah was dreading the walk back so much so that she couldn’t even appreciate the detail of the set.
There were thick-leaved bromeliads and delicate Cattleya orchids lashed to tree trunks, towering banana plants, and dense ferns that choked the space.
The only light, apart from the setting sun, came from hollowed-out gourds and bamboo torches.
Right in the center was a moss-covered granite slab holding the infamous pedestal and six voting cups.
Facing it were three massive, bleached logs that still looked wet from being dragged in from the tide.
Savannah and Amy took their seats in the middle row. Brenda flanked her on the left, and Avery was on Amy’s right. In front of them sat Sloan and the lake girls, as everyone had started calling them that morning. The rest of the contestants sat behind them.
“Don’t worry,” Amy said as she leaned in when Naomi turned around to step onto the small platform.
Her mouth was so close to Savannah’s ear that her breath tickled the fine hairs at her temple.
“You can just lean on me when we walk back to camp. I’ll go slowly and if anyone asks, I’ll say I’m scared of walking in the dark.
No one will know you’re basically blind at night. ”
Savannah would’ve appreciated the offer if she hadn’t been so adamant about keeping her distance. She’d have no choice but to take Amy up on it if she wanted to get back to camp alive.
The truth was, Savannah was in mental anguish.
On one hand, she hadn’t orgasmed like that in months and couldn’t stop thinking about Amy’s fingers pressed into the creases of her hips.
But on the other hand, Savannah refused to be someone else’s creative research.
She wasn’t about to let Amy exploit her emotions for a few spicy words in a book.
Especially not when Savannah had the pathetic tendency to catch feelings faster than gossip spread through the country club locker room.
One-night stands didn’t work for Savannah like they did for many other women.
Like her retinas, and her cervical discs, and every other flaw her body had collected over the years, she was, in fact, defective. She’d learned that the hard way.
“I don’t want to vote Kate off tonight,” she muttered softly, leaning away from Amy as far as possible without looking awkward.
“You don’t?”
Savannah shook her head. “I want Luna gone.”
Amy looked as if she’d just been slapped in the face. “Luna?” she muttered, her jaw dropping so low to the ground that it got Brenda’s attention. She leaned over and whispered, “What’s going on? Still good to vote for Kate?”
Savannah turned her head halfway toward Brenda while maintaining an appearance of complete indifference. In a game like Outlast Her, you had to be stealthy. “Let’s vote off Luna.”
Brenda seemed to think about it, then her eyes brightened. “I like—”
She was cut off when Naomi cleared her throat. “Amy,” she said, turning her attention to the second row. “As the only returning player this season, how different does it feel being back here compared to the last time?”
Amy sat up a little straighter. She was wearing her lion T-shirt and those red high-tops of hers that Savannah wouldn’t be caught dead in. Still, if anyone made it work, it was Amy.
“Honestly, it feels surreal,” Amy said. “I’m not just back in this game. I’m back in it with eleven incredible women, some of whom I’ve been watching on the screen since I was a teenager.”
“So, you’re a little starry-eyed?” Naomi asked.
Amy chuckled lightly. “When I was eleven, I found a jar of what I thought was just weird-looking raw honey hidden way back in the pantry,” she said.
“I slathered three massive tablespoons of it onto a slice of Wonder Bread. Turned out my stepdad had infused it with mushrooms. I spent the next three hours sitting on the porch watching my Jack Russell speak fluent French. Being here with these brilliant women feels exactly like that. There’s no way I’m not hallucinating this. ”
The joke landed perfectly. Everyone, including Savannah, laughed. Though she did wonder how much of it was really true or embellished.
“Luna,” Naomi said, turning toward the steamy author. Luna was wearing a bright yellow dress that draped all the way down to her ankles. “Do you think Amy being back here for a second time gives her more of an advantage than the rest of you?”
Luna tucked a dark strand of hair behind her ear and flattened her long fingers over her knees. “Umm...” she started, looking like she was really pondering the question. “To be honest, I think it’s probably more of a disadvantage.”
“How so?” Naomi asked.
“Well, when you read a book for the second time, you might notice a few technical details you missed,” Luna said, her voice smooth as honey.
In fact, it was as smooth as it had been when Luna had besmirched Savannah’s name on that stupid interview.
“But the magic is gone. There’s nothing quite like experiencing something for the first time.
Amy already knows where the plot twists are.
She’s repeating old chapters while the rest of us are writing new ones. In my mind, that’s a disadvantage.”
Naomi looked satisfied enough. “Spoken like a true writer,” she said, smiling.
Out of the corner of her eye, Savannah spotted Amy’s hands in her lap. Her fingers were braided together like pretzel dough. Her left hand pinched her right index finger so hard that the skin had gone a bloodless, chalky white. Had Luna’s words upset her?
Savannah suddenly had an overwhelming urge to reach across the gap and pry those tense fingers apart.
“I have to disagree,” she suddenly said out loud without meaning to.
UGH! This was exactly what she was afraid of.
Just because Amy had turned her on like a TV screen the other night didn’t mean she had to defend her.
But she couldn’t help it. The words came out before she could swallow them.
“I think Amy’s writing a new book too.” This was quite literally true.
“I don’t think it puts her at a disadvantage at all.
She knows how the game works. If anything, being paired up with her might be my disadvantage.
” This was the first time since the game started that Savannah had realized just how vulnerable she was in this game.
Returning players were big, bright bullseye targets.
“Can you please ela—” Naomi was mid-word when her forehead creased into a tight frown. “Sloan, are you alright?” she said.
Every head turned toward Sloan, who was sitting at the very end of the log. Her shoulders were hunched, her skin had gone a translucent, curdled grey, and a layer of cold sweat glistened at her temples, matting her hairline.
“Sloan,” Naomi said, her voice losing its polished host tone. Instead, it sounded stiff with worry. “Are you feeling unwell?” Suddenly, Naomi’s cool facade shattered completely. “Call the doctor!” she shouted. “Call Maurine! Now.”
Savannah leaned forward just in time to see Sloan’s eyes roll back until only the bloodshot whites of her eyes showed.
Then, like a marionette with its strings cut, Sloan simply folded in on herself.
Before anyone could even react to what was clearly a medical emergency, Sloan landed face-first on the damp sand.
“SLOAN!” Ezra called, scrambling off her log.
She dropped to her knees in the sand. Her hands were hovering over the limp model, but before she could even touch her, a short, stout woman with cropped brown hair and a medic pack slung over her shoulder came skidding across the space, followed by two crew members carrying a bright orange spine board.
“Make space,” Maurine instructed, spreading her arms out to push everyone away. “Sloan,” she said. “Can you hear me, Sloan?”
Savannah watched as Maurine pinched Sloan’s trap hard to test her pain response.
Sloan didn’t bolt upright like Savannah would’ve done, but at least a weak whimper had slipped past her dry lips.
She was alive. Thank goodness. “Her pulse is thready,” Maurine said.
“And she’s boiling hot. Get the transport boat ready.
We’re medically evacuating her to the mainland clinic. ”
As the two crew members rushed forward to lift Sloan’s limp body onto the spine board, Savannah felt a tap on her shoulder.
At first, she thought she was imagining it.
Amy was to her left, standing with her hands pressed against her cheeks.
Who else would want her attention? But then she felt it again.
Savannah glanced back just enough to spot the dark bob of hair that was more often than not styled like Edna Mode from The Incredibles. “What do you want, Luna?” she asked, her tone icy cold. Her grudge extended all the way to her larynx.
“I want to propose an alliance,” Luna muttered, glancing out of the corner of her eye toward Brenda.
But Brenda wasn’t paying them any attention.
She was too busy whispering in Jade’s ear to notice that Kate and Wyn had just joined ranks and formed a kind of fleshy wall right in front of Savannah and Luna.
Brenda would have to stand on her tiptoes to spot Luna whispering in Savannah’s ear.
“I know you’re thinking of voting me off tonight, but I think I can persuade you not to. ”
Nothing could persuade Savannah once she’d made up her mind. “No, thank you,” she said with a syrupy kind of politeness before turning back toward Maurine, who was securing the blood pressure cuff around Sloan’s skinny arm.
“If you and Amy join us, we’ll have the numbers,” Luna said, standing so close Savannah could feel her hot breath between her shoulder blades. “Brenda thinks she’s got all the power in this game, and someone needs to show her that she doesn’t.”
“You don’t have the numbers,” Savannah replied, though the idea did intrigue her.
Brenda had been acting somewhat superior over the last day.
She even had Jade run around washing her clothes and Ezra handing her a shell of rice and beans for breakfast. “Brenda’s got Jade, Erica, Sloan and Avery on her—”
“Sloan is out,” Luna interrupted. Had she really just said that?
Where was the sympathy Savannah expected from the author who had apparently cried real, snotty tears over a ruined batch of gingerbread cookies?
“And Kate’s working on getting Ezra on our side.
” Only then did Savannah notice Kate already moving toward Ezra, who was still kneeling on the ground.
She crouched beside her, wrapped a maternal arm around Ezra’s shaking shoulders and let her weep right into her neck.
If that wasn’t manipulation, then what was?
Still, Savannah couldn’t help mulling the idea over. It would be quite the blindside, and she could always exact her revenge on Luna another night.
“Fine, I’ll vote with you, but first I want an apology,” Savannah said.
“I’m sorry,” Luna said immediately.
“Not here,” Savannah countered. That would be too easy. “A formal apology on Book Time. I want you to retract calling me a literary bully and instead say something nice.”
Luna’s mouth opened and closed like a fish. She swallowed something, possibly her pride, and nodded. “Fine.”
“And I want you to call off your hounds,” Savannah added, eyeing Wyn under her lashes.
On the very first day of Outlast Her, Wyn had quite literally threatened Savannah at the watering well.
Savannah had received plenty of threats from writers wounded by her reviews.
Once, a fantasy author she had shredded online simply because Savannah thought a troll would make a convincing protagonist posted a video of themselves dripping hot wax onto a voodoo doll made in Savannah’s likeness.
Standing there now, Savannah felt like a lamb in a butcher’s shop.
The actress was a head taller with icy blue eyes that felt like ice picks pressing against Savannah’s throat.
Anyone in their right mind would have felt intimidated.
But Luna had approached her, not the other way around.
“Done,” Luna said, extending a hand.
Savannah swatted it away. “Don’t be so obvious.” Then she walked away, feeling a whole wave of satisfaction settle warmly in her chest. Even better, Amy would be beautifully relieved when Savannah told her they weren’t sending Kate or Luna home. This was a win-win situation.