Chapter Seven
The game had only been going for three days, and Sabine had discovered two things already: Marloe, with her whole stay-at-home doting mom persona, wasn’t as innocent as she looked.
Sabine had spotted her stealing extra helpings of rice this morning.
And two, Shakira was in the running to win this entire thing.
Everyone seemed to flock to her. They asked her for advice, for opinions. They laughed at her jokes, when frankly, they were subpar. And Sabine had even caught her sneaking off with Isla, Taye, and Amy earlier this morning for a meeting.
They called themselves the Core Four.
Sabine only knew this because yesterday, when she was scavenging the rock pools for crabs for the excellent protein they provided, she’d accidentally overheard them talking.
They hadn’t seen her. Thank goodness. She’d ducked behind a jagged outcrop of volcanic rock just as they stepped into the shade of a cluster of pandan trees.
She’d considered not eavesdropping because it wasn’t the game she wanted to play, but she had no choice.
If she made herself known, they’d think she’d followed them.
Which seemed entirely pathetic. She didn’t follow. She led.
“I think if we can get Charlize and Connie with us, we’ll have the majority vote,” Isla had said.
“That’s only six,” Taye pointed out. “We need at least two more pairs to join us.”
“What about Monique and Hanna?” Amy offered. She’d been hidden by Shakira’s gorgeously tall frame, but Sabine could recognize that Californian accent anywhere.
Isla shook her head. “Monique is basically joined to Lucia’s hip, and I don’t think we can convince Lucia to join us unless we get Marloe, and Marloe doesn’t want anything to do with Hanna.”
Sabine hadn’t heard why Marloe didn’t like Hanna because she’d been too busy trying to detangle that intricate web in her head.
Although it had become apparent Marloe didn’t like anyone, which was mildly alarming considering she had children and it would probably be a good idea if she taught them to get along with others.
“Then what about Sabine and Talia?” Shakira said. “Sabine’s a bit steely, but she’s a physician; they all are. I think she’ll be a great addition to our group.”
Sabine’s heart had swelled five times its original size. But then Isla had said, “No, Talia talks too much,” and that feeling burst like a balloon floating too close to a flame. “We should just talk to Charlize and Connie and see where they’re at.”
Sabine hadn’t just been shocked by Isla’s statement; she was also unexpectedly defensive.
Yes, Talia talked an ear off and couldn’t sit still, but it had been her idea to evaporate seawater until only salt remained, which had drastically improved the taste of the cold-soaked rice.
And she was the only one who kept trying to get the fire going. The rest had given up.
But then Sabine realized the conundrum.
They weren’t just excluding Talia. They were excluding Sabine because of Talia.
Because they were paired. They came as a package. If the Core Four didn’t like one of them, it meant they didn’t like both. Which felt so high school in Sabine’s opinion. That was exactly why it stung so hard.
Sabine walked over to the tree where she’d hung her socks to dry. She plucked them off, shook them out, and glanced back over her shoulder at the beach.
Talia was out by the water. She was hunched over, scrubbing the rice pot by herself. Which would’ve been fine if Sabine hadn’t overheard the Core Four’s conversation yesterday.
Was Talia alone because she wanted to be alone? Or was she alone because people didn’t want to be around her? Sabine felt a twinge of pity either way. But it was more than she was embarrassed for her, the way you felt when you watched someone wave at a person who wasn’t actually waving at them.
“We’ve gone two days without fire,” Marloe said, pulling Sabine back to the others.
She was sitting on a log with her knees bent and her hips wide.
Her alabaster skin was pink. Her hair, which had been in a perfect bob two days ago, was split into two pigtails.
Lucia was sitting beside her, looking green.
She’d come into the game with a disadvantage, or so Sabine thought.
When she wasn’t looking after not-so-well neonates, she competed in bodybuilding competitions.
She was used to eating three thousand calories a day.
No way she was surviving long on cold rice and unripe fruit.
“I don’t think I can eat cold rice anymore,” Marloe added.
“There are plenty of bananas,” Amy pointed at the two bunches sitting at the base of a palm tree. “And we’ve got coconuts.”
“It takes like thirty minutes to crack open those things. We’re basically wasting energy trying to eat them,” Lucia remarked sluggishly. “I think we need to send more teams out foraging. Aren’t there mango trees in the Philippines? Or jackfruit?”
“Taye and Charlize are already out looking,” Shakira said. “They haven’t been gone long. I’m sure they’ll come back with something.”
There was a rustle of leaves. Sabine snapped her head toward the sound just as Taye and Charlize walked back into camp.
“We’ve got mail,” Taye said, brandishing a yellowed envelope in front of her face. “Found it by the watering hole.” The watering hole was basically a glorified well where they filled up their water bottles.
“What does it say?” Connie asked, stepping eagerly forward.
Her hair was pulled back into a thick fishtail braid.
She was grinning ear to ear because she’d just finished reinforcing their shelter with an extra diagonal brace, which was meant to keep the slanted palm-frond roof from collapsing inward if the wind picked up.
In her terms, this was a fantastic and necessary addition. “Please tell me it’s good news.”
The look on Taye’s face said otherwise. “We’ve got to pack our bags.”
Sabine swallowed back the lump in her throat. “So, you think someone is getting voted off tonight?” she asked. She didn’t want to seem worried. But she was worried.
“You mean a pair is getting voted off,” Monique pointed out as she gathered her black hair into a ponytail and secured it with an elastic band. “I assume that’s how it works.”
Sabine had no idea how it would work and, frankly, she’d spent much of the last three days not thinking about it. But then also thinking about it and forcing herself not to. It was a vicious cycle that required more brain energy than she wanted to expend.
“Well, should we pack up then?” Isla asked.
Sabine exhaled so hard her lungs felt like they might launch out of her ribcage and ricochet off the nearby palm tree, though she knew that was medically impossible.
Her sigh was so loud that both Isla and Connie looked at her with concerned frowns on their faces.
They could stare all they wanted. Someone was going home tonight.
She could feel it in her bones. And somehow, she and Talia were squarely on the first chopping block.
With a long, resigned kind of sigh, she turned to the beach and called, “Talia! We’ve got a challenge!”
“WELCOME,” VIVIAN SAID brightly when all twelve contestants left the jungle behind and walked onto a pristine-looking beach. Vivian was standing at the shoreline, just far enough away to keep her feet dry. “How are we all doing?” she asked no one in particular.
There were a few nondescript whispers before Talia spoke up.
Sabine caught Isla rolling her eyes. “We are surviving,” Talia said.
“Not yet thriving, but that’s fine. As soon as we can get the fire going, we’ll feel a lot better.
I’m sure the mood will be even less somber back at camp.
Right now, we’re all sick of cold rice and beans. ”
Vivian chuckled. “Well, maybe at the end of today, there will be fire waiting. I guess you ladies will have to keep playing to find out.”
That should’ve given everyone hope, but it did just the opposite.
Unhappy murmurs spread through the group.
If this were anything like the real Survivor show—the only way a tribe earned fire, well, apart from winning flint, was by going to their first tribal council—someone could very well be going home tonight.
Vivian ignored the murmurs. “Now that you’ve all had a taste of camp life and built a shelter, it’s time to see how well you really work together.” Then she pointed at Monique, who was the shade of a lobster on display at McCormick & Schmick’s Seafood and Steaks. “Do you trust your partner?”
Monique’s shoulders dropped as she slid her unbranded nylon rucksack onto the mat.
She turned to Hanna, who had her hair parted neatly down the middle and woven into tight French-braid pigtails.
In fact, Monique, Lucia, and Marloe were all wearing the same hairstyle.
Was there another alliance forming? For someone who studied Survivor religiously, Sabine was missing all the signs.
In fact, she was doing terribly in Outlast Her so far.
Not one person had approached her to include her in their plans. Not one.
“Well, then, let’s get into it,” Vivian said. “Today’s challenge is all about balance, endurance, and how well you can support each other... literally.”
Nothing about that sounded good.
Sabine glanced sideways and caught Talia’s eye.
Her hair was tied in a messy bun above her head.
The blue sash she had tied around her forehead failed to keep a few strands off her tanned shoulders, and sweat gleamed across her chest. The sides of her lips quivered.
Sabine had a feeling Talia was going to smile, which she didn’t feel like returning.