Chapter Five
By the time Barra’s breathing had settled and her lungs felt somewhat normal, Vivian was already halfway through announcing the pairings.
Barra wasn’t going to lie, she preferred picking stones.
Leaving it up to fate felt easier to do, and frankly, the whole choosing thing felt painfully like high school.
Barra hadn’t particularly enjoyed high school.
Lila Greet, who was now known as Lila Whitaker, had made sure of that.
Blessed in the chest, Lila had hit puberty two full years before Barra had, and she’d wielded that advantage like a sword.
She’d decided Barra was weird because her name was Barbara.
“Only old ladies are called Barbara,” Lila had said.
“Were you born an old lady?” And because she didn’t flirt with boys, which made sense years later when Barra had kissed Megan Russo in a booth at Shake Shack over a smokehouse burger dripping barbecue sauce and melted cheddar.
And also because she’d spent a concerning amount of time sketching buildings in the margins of her notebooks.
She wasn’t drawing arrow-pierced hearts or brand logos like everyone else.
Nope. She’d copied the brownstone facades along Lexington Avenue and drawn the art déco crown of the Chrysler Building from memory.
It hadn’t mattered how fast she could run, how strong she was; thanks to Lila fucking Greet, she’d been picked last for every single kickball game, gym dodgeball, and intramural volleyball match.
“Elodie picks Anna,” Vivian announced, tossing a bruised purple buff toward a woman wearing a black Guns N’ Roses T-shirt with a faded denim overshirt tied at her waist.
She watched Elodie hug Anna and thought only to herself that Elodie had made a grave mistake.
Surely a winner shouldn’t be picking another winner.
She’d basically painted a big red sign on her back saying VOTE ME OUT.
But then again, Elodie had been a very clever player in her season.
She’d let others burn themselves before making her move.
Whatever her plan was, Barra was smart enough to be wary.
“Next up is Tilly,” Vivian said, pointing toward the woman with the ice-blonde hair and pale white skin that wouldn’t have survived two minutes in the Flinders Ranges. If she’d applied two seasons ago, Barra was sure the casting director would’ve given her a firm no. Too much risk.
Tilly didn’t hesitate for even a second. “I choose Toph,” she said, grinning with all her teeth. And she had lots of them. Or at least a smile that showed all of them.
Barra’s heart sank just a little. She was dead set on picking a newbie.
But if she were going to intentionally shoot herself in the foot and pick a former winner, Toph would’ve been the one she’d do it with.
Her game in Season Three, which had taken place on the wild, wind-lashed coast of South Africa, had been admirable.
Not only was she a physical threat—she played softball for the Carolina Comets—but she was also extremely intelligent.
She worked for NASA as an astrophysicist. Her name had popped up in Scientific American several times. Barra was a mild fan.
“Barra,” Vivian called, yanking Barra back to earth. She smiled so sweetly that Barra had felt a whiff of nostalgia. Season Five of Outlast Her had both given and taken. “Who would you like to pair up with?”
Barra scanned the four people who were left: Connie, who had arrived second-to-last at the flag.
Her usually long, flaming red hair was in a pixie cut.
Beside her was a woman with hair so black it was almost blue, and she had equally as dark eyes.
She wore a loose white T-shirt printed with a vintage sunflower and the words Good Vibes Only in curling letters on the front.
Beside her was a dark blonde, and then next to her. .. Allie.
Barra didn’t let her gaze linger on Allie.
In fact, she barely spared her even a glance.
Though the less she looked at her, the more guilty she felt.
Not just for the wedding, but for her behavior at the airport.
Allie deserved an apology. Two. Maybe even a third for taking so long to apologize.
But honestly, it would have to wait just a bit longer.
“I choose her,” Barra said, pointing toward the blonde who had her hands on her hips.
She was tall, lean in that way that might imply a volleyball player, and her mouse-blonde hair darkened to honey where it clung damply to her temples.
She had a sharp, straight nose and strong thighs that were dusted with sand.
Her sneakers were identical to Barra’s. There was also the uncanny resemblance between her and Dominique, though Barra put that down to pure coincidence.
She was absolutely not picking her teammate just because she could be Dominique’s doppelg?nger.
“Hazel,” Vivian said, smiling. “Come on up and fetch your buff.”
“Thank you,” Hazel said, jogging over. She hugged Barra, during which Barra spotted Allie over Hazel’s glisteningly tanned shoulder.
Allie was looking down at the sand. In that moment, something welled up inside Barra’s chest that could only be described as pity.
She was feeling dreadfully sorry for Allie.
Even more so when Margaret, a brunette with the tightest curls Barra had ever seen, picked Connie.
Then it was Juniper’s turn, and she’d chosen Valerie, who couldn’t be taller than five foot two.
Allie was the last one left.
Sutton, who had won Season Four and was probably the most successful contestant to ever grace Outlast Her, didn’t get a choice.
Not that Allie was a terrible one. But she was the only contestant who had managed to trip over her own feet.
She was basically wearing half the beach, and in this game, first impressions mattered.
“Now that our pairs have been chosen,” Vivian said sprightly. “You’ll be spending the next twenty-eight days battling not only each other but the elements. This beach will be your home. Treat it with respect.” Then she gave a little wave as she turned to leave.
Barra had no idea where she was going. Was there a luxury villa just a few miles deep into the forest?
Vivian suddenly stopped and turned back. She smiled again, this time in a way that made something cold skitter down Barra’s spine. “Before I forget, somewhere on this stretch of jungle, there is a protection bracelet hidden. Find the bracelet and you’ll be safe from the next vote.”
What?!
“BEFORE WE START,” SUTTON said, scraping her hair back into a punishingly tight ballerina bun, a habit from the ten years she’d spent as a principal dancer with New York City Ballet.
One look at her calves and no one would doubt she’d danced at the highest rank.
“I think we can all agree that previous seasons have taught us that secrets don’t stay secrets for very long. ”
Barra swallowed hard. What exactly was Sutton implying?
But she didn’t have to wait long before Sutton’s gaze travelled across the circle. “Is there anyone here who knows each other?” she asked. “Who has, you know, done a little more than just get to know each other?” She winked.
Barra’s eyes flicked to Allie before she could stop herself.
Allie had turned a shade paler. Which was completely understandable.
That was just the question that could blow up someone’s game.
Poof. If anyone admitted they knew each other, like really knew each other, they’d be stamped as an alliance.
A prior connection would ultimately make them a threat.
And in the same way snitches got stitches in prison, threats got conveniently voted out early in Outlast Her.
Barra waited for Allie to say something. Her breath was literally bated as the silence stretched on longer. Allie flicked her gaze to the ground just as a macaw let out a piercing squawk somewhere above their heads.
Good. At least they were thinking the same thing.
“Then let us get to know each other,” Sutton said, looking satisfied, if not a little disappointed. “I’ll go first.”
Valerie cleared her throat. “Maybe the newbies should introduce themselves first,” she suggested. Then she looked to the sky. “It’s getting late.”
There were strips of pink and lavender, and the clouds were all feathery. Barra had no idea what the time was, but she did know that once it was dark, there would be no shelter building, at least not without fire.
Sutton looked properly surprised, like she hadn’t expected someone half her height to interrupt her, let alone tell her off for wanting to take all the spotlight.
From every interview Barra had watched of Sutton, it was blindingly obvious that Sutton liked nothing more than to talk about herself.
“Of course, the floor is yours,” Sutton said, her smile strained.
Barra caught Allie’s eye, and then immediately tossed it away like a hot potato.
But then her brain decided to wander right into a memory of Dominique and Kiara’s wedding.
Aggie had just stuffed a spoonful of the local Dungeness crab risotto into her mouth when her wife had said, “Why are you telling Allie you love Luce McFerson? You literally told me the other day her paintings only sell because she used to take her shirt off in movies.”
Aggie froze mid-chew. “I never said that.”
“You literally did,” Pat had gone on. “Two nights ago. You’d flicked on the TV and when her face came up, you stuck out your tongue and rolled your eyes.”
“I think you’re mistaken, babe.”
Pat had shaken her head. “Allie won’t be offended. Just because her gallery exhibited Luce’s work doesn’t mean you have to like her.”
Barra had then caught Allie’s eye, and in that instant, the same thought had flashed between them.
Can you believe this is happening? Then Allie had winked at her, and Barra had felt a swoosh of heat in her stomach that had grown tenfold when Allie had tugged up her strap in the bathroom.
The feeling had only disappeared once they’d both stumbled out of that stall.
Her mind was just about to amble to the few minutes after they’d hooked up and right before the cab was called, but thankfully Valerie stepped forward into the circle and flicked her long, dark hair back over her shoulder.
“I’m Valerie Lang, and I’m from Florida,” she said.
“I am a marine engineer and work mostly on superyachts. I see more celebrities than Dr. Terry Dubrow.”
Barra wasn’t sure who that was, but she didn’t care. It was Hazel’s turn to go next, and she was more than curious to find out what Hazel did for a living.
“I’m a divorce attorney,” Hazel said. Barra was disappointed.
Nobody trusted a lawyer. When had a lawyer ever won a game like this?
The answer was never. But at least Barra could find some relief.
Despite the physical similarities, Dominique and Hazel were nothing alike.
“I work out of Phoenix. Mostly high net-worth cases and difficult custody battles,” she added.
Margaret didn’t step forward. She simply wound a finger around the end of one especially tight curl before tugging it gently.
“I’m a search and rescue paramedic in Colorado,” she said, letting the curl spring back against her shoulder.
“I work in the mountain division. I usually go up in helicopters and do cliff rescues or avalanche protocols.”
These women were all quite remarkable.
Barra was just about to ask her how many lives she’d saved when Tilly lifted a hand.
“Tilly Sydney, and I’m a marine biologist,” she said brightly.
Which was more than a little surprising.
Tilly looked nothing like a marine biologist. In fact, Barra had pegged her for someone who worked indoors, like a pharmacist or a dentist.
“Juniper Rayes,” Juniper said, going next. “But people usually call me June. I’m a forensic anthropologist. I work with skeletal remains. I’m usually found at crime scenes and sometimes at mass graves. It’s not a glamorous job, but I love it.”
Allie opened her mouth to go next, but then Connie interrupted. “So you see dead bodies for a living?” Connie asked, looking both horrified and impressed.
“I see what’s left of them,” June replied. “Then I try to give them their names back.”
“That’s so cool,” Connie said.
Barra had to agree. She absolutely loved Bones. Dr. Temperance Brennan was devastatingly hot in an emotionally unavailable way. “What’s the worst case you’ve—”
Sutton cleared her throat, then tilted her chin toward Allie.
Allie swatted something against her neck. Then again against her thigh. If it were a bug, it was invisible. Barra couldn’t see a thing.
“I used to be an artist,” Allie said, reaching down to scratch hard at her calf. When her fingers moved away, Barra spotted a thick red welt blooming against her skin.
Shit. That didn’t look good.
“But that didn’t work out as planned, so I went to business school instead,” Allie said, moving her fingers back to her neck.
Had Allie picked up sand fleas from wiping out earlier?
Were sand fleas even a thing on the Osa Peninsula?
“Now I own three galleries across LA. Just last month I exhibited Alina Kovács’ work. ”
That was impressive. Barra had long admired Kovács for her enormous architectural canvases, which she based on abandoned brutalist buildings.
Lots of concrete, shadows, and negative spaces.
Barra was just about to ask Allie what Alina was like in person when she remembered that it involved having a normal conversation.
She wasn’t sure she could do that. At the time she couldn’t bring herself to casually converse with the woman who’d ravished her in that bathroom stall at Dominique’s wedding, whom she’d vomited in front of, subsequently ghosted, and had been inexplicably rude to before overlooking her during the pair choosing.
Thankfully Sutton spoke. “Should we move on? I’ll go ne—”
Valerie cut her off for the second time, and Barra would be blind not to see that smile of satisfaction on her face. They all would. “We should probably start building the shelter before it gets dark. Unless everyone feels like sleeping on the sand tonight.”
Barra sure as hell didn’t. “Shelter time,” she said, clapping her hands.