Chapter Thirty
All around us, the cold, glass eyes of the cameras glint in the sunlight, but the familiar glow of their red lights is gone.
The cameras are off.
“What do you mean?” I say, trying to temper the panicked edge creeping up in my voice.
“Is it coming back on?” No one answers. “I mean, that happens right? The power can go out in, like, bad weather, or something, right? That happens in Canada, right?” I tug Kei’s arm, imploring him to tell me everything will be okay, but he just looks up at the vast expanse of cloudless blue sky.
My hand flies to the microphone around my neck.
I yank the rubber cord one, two, three times, until it snaps.
I let it fall through my fingers to the ground.
There is a brief moment of stillness before Trina’s wail pierces the silence.
Sid puts his arm around her to comfort her, but his ashen face betrays the confidence of the gesture.
“It’s just—it’s got to be another part of the test, right?” Harmony says, looking frantically from me to Kei. “Like, they cut the power so they can get us all freaking out, and then they come back and tell us it’s all part of it?”
“The fucking cameras are off, Harmony,” spits Isa. “There’s no fucking test.”
“Don’t speak to her like that,” Kei says quietly.
“What did you say?”
“I said don’t speak to her like that.”
“I speak however I want, hijo de puta.” Isa erupts in a torrent of rapid-fire Spanish.
Sue-Ellen puts her hand on Isa’s chest. “We need to stay calm,” she says, in a choked voice.
“All we do is stay calm! We need to get off this fucking island!”
“Stop fighting!” Trina cries, covering her face with her hands.
By this time, the commotion has drawn a crowd. The news travels like a current, elevating the tension. Several people burst into tears. Everyone starts talking at once.
Kei takes a step backward to separate himself.
He raises his hands over his head and claps.
“Okay!” he shouts. The crowd quietens. “Okay,” he says again.
“Isa is right, we do need to get off this island, but we can’t start freaking out, either.
The main things we’re going to need are—” he stops, thinking “—fire and light, yeah?” There is a murmur of agreement.
“So let’s get that sorted out first. We’ll need a group to scour the camp to find every candle, flashlight, lantern, every possible light source.
Okay? And then we need a group to gather firewood, lots of firewood, enough to keep the fire going day and night, big enough to be easily seen from the air, alright?
By the time we get that set up, Damian and Giovanni will be back, so we can make a plan for how we’re going to get out of here.
” No one moves or speaks. “Come on, no time to waste,” says Kei, clapping.
People start to scatter and sort themselves into groups.
“And start brainstorming ideas while you work,” Kei calls over the chatter.
He breaks away from the crowd and starts toward the Mess Hall. Craving the comfort of his presence, I follow, trying to link my arm through his, but he resists.
“I’m on top of the food situation,” he says, without looking at me. “Why don’t you go find some firewood or something.”
I jog to keep up with him. “I’d rather be with you,” I say, reaching for his hand, but he swats my hand away.
“No need for that anymore.”
“What? Can you please slow down?”
He doesn’t. “The handholding. We don’t need to do that anymore.”
I stop walking, but he keeps going. “Kei, stop, please.”
He spins around. “What? The plan was to keep it up for the cameras, right? So we could win. But the cameras are off now. Nothing left to win or lose anymore. No more of this—” He pauses, waving his hand between us.
“No more us,” I say quietly.
He sighs. “No more us.”
“But—”
He starts walking again. “But nothing, Cleo. It’s what you wanted, right? No catching feelings?”
It is what I wanted. It’s what I have fought for. I should be happy. I should be relieved we don’t have to keep up this exhausting facade any longer.
Except it’s not exhausting, it’s exhilarating.
This is what I want. It’s clearer than anything I’ve ever felt before.
But I’ve ruined it all. I had so many chances, and I blew every single one.
And now there’s nothing—nothing to win, everything already lost. No prize money to save my mom’s house, no chance at a new life, a new future—all lost. Tyler and Gabby are gone, and now, so is Kei, and we’re all trapped here on this island in the middle of nowhere with no way out.
As Kei walks away from me, a heaviness sinks into my limbs.
I have a fleeting thought of finding Harmony to help her with whatever she’s doing, but I know I can’t do that.
In fact, the thought of doing anything, seeing anyone, being a functioning human—it all feels laughably impossible, like trying to tame a tornado.
I want to disappear. I want the world to disappear. I want to pull a blanket over my head and wait until someone tells me it’s all over. So that’s exactly what I do.
“Cleo, Cleo,” my mother says, gently rocking my body. “Wake up, babe, it’s time for dinner, come on.”
“Not hungry,” I mumble, pulling the sheet up over my face.
“Come on, get up. Cleo, come on,” she says, with an urgency that wasn’t there before. “Damian and Giovanni aren’t back yet and I’m starting to freak out.”
What? I pull the sheet down. Oh. It’s Harmony, not my mother. I’m not home, I’m at this nightmare camp, and I’ve still lost everything.
I want to go back to sleep, but the look on Harmony’s face stops me. She’s wide-eyed with worry, and it looks like she could crumple at any second.
“Hey,” I say, pushing myself up to sit beside her. “It’s going to be okay. It’s not even dark yet. They’ll be back soon.”
She nods and takes a deep breath. “Kei said the same thing.”
“See? It’s going to be alright.” I put my arm around her, hoping she doesn’t hear the hollowness in my words. “Let’s go get something to eat. You’ll feel better once you’ve eaten.” I am speaking both to her and to myself.
I have trouble getting my shoes on. My feet feel numb, and I can’t properly aim them in between the straps. I kick at my sandals dumbly, sending them skittering across the floor. I have to use my hands to put them on my feet.
Outside, the cool air helps to clear the fog in my head.
I wrap my arms around myself and put one foot in front of the other.
The sun is setting, and the sky is streaked with brilliant pinks and reds and oranges, and for a moment, I can believe that everything is going to be okay. I breathe in, then out.
Everyone is on the beach, and they’ve been busy. There are two fires, one roaring, and one smouldering under a grate with a cast-iron pan on top of it. A shadowy figure is tending to the set-up. Kei.
My impulse is to go right back to the Bunkhouse, but I let Harmony lead me to the fire pit.
The other campers are huddled in small groups, chatting quietly.
Sue-Ellen is talking to Valeria, but I feel her eyes follow me as I sink down onto a log, hugging my knees into my chest to create a barrier against the searing heat of the fire.
Kei serves up bowls of penne pasta mixed with peas and corn—a mixed vegetable medley I remember seeing in the freezer.
It tastes of nothing. Aside from the occasional expression of gratitude for the meal, no one speaks.
When we finish, we wash our dishes in a stock pot and reclaim our seats by the fire.
“Okay,” Kei says, clapping his hands. Everyone turns to him with expectant looks.
“I was hoping Damian and Giovanni would be back by now but, uh…” He trails off and looks at Harmony.
“I’m sure they’ll be back soon, but we need to talk about our options.
I’ll fill them in later once they’re here.
Alright? So, first, thank you all for your efforts today.
This fire is awesome, and we’re going to keep it burning day and night, which I hope will help us be seen from the air.
Also, great job with the S.O.S. on the beach.
The search planes will definitely be able to see that. ”
“Do you think they’re searching for us?” asks Sue-Ellen. “Does anyone even know we’re missing?”
“Someone has got to realize,” says Harmony. “They can’t just stop the show mid-season without anyone asking any questions.”
Kei nods. “I think Harmony is right. They’ll be looking for us, and we shouldn’t be too hard to find. That said, though, we shouldn’t just sit around and wait to be rescued. We need to be proactive.”
“Is it too far to swim?” Valeria asks, looking at the water.
We all look across the lake to the beach on the other side. It’s hard to see in the darkness, and it’s never looked so far away.
“It looks pretty far,” Kei says. “It’s probably, what, at least five kilometres? Like, three miles?”
“Didn’t Gabby say it was three and a half miles?” Harmony says.
Kei shrugs. “Could be. Can anyone here swim that far?”
Everyone looks at Sue-Ellen. She throws her hands back. “Don’t look at me. That was a lifetime ago. And plus, I trained for speed, not distance.”
“Well, if the Olympic swimmer can’t do it, then it’s not an option for the rest of us,” says Valeria matter-of-factly. “Maybe we could build a raft?”
“Definitely. First thing in the morning, we’ll need some people to find materials—logs and rope—and others to go looking for tools.”
“Do we have enough food?” asks Sid.
“Yes, we’re good for food. We’ll eat everything out of the fridge and freezer quickly, so it doesn’t spoil, and then we have enough rice to last us for weeks. We’ll be out of here before we run out of rice.”
I glance around at the faces of the others. The fear is evident in their wide eyes and clenched jaws. Am I scared? I’m not. I’m not anything. I’m numb.
“What if the raft doesn’t work?” Trina’s voice is small, gripped by barely contained panic.
“Then we’ll be found. Or we’ll figure something else out.”
My heart breaks at the gentleness of his voice.
“Or,” Isa says, “we die.” He throws his red plastic cup on the fire. It makes a sizzling sound before collapsing onto itself.
The last trace of light vanishes behind the horizon. The air is thick with the acrid smell of burning plastic and the hum of fear. The skin on my face is hot from my proximity to the fire, but I don’t move away. No one moves. No one speaks.
Suddenly, Sid sits up straight, his ear cocked toward the opening of the path. “What was that?” He stands, his body tensed.
“What?” I try to say, but my voice catches in my throat. I feel a rush of cold dread hollowing out my stomach.
“I heard something. Over there.” He pauses. It feels like time pauses, the spinning of the earth pauses, as we all strain to listen.
“Damian?” Harmony calls, her voice cracking.
Nothing.
And then we all hear it at once. The distinct sound of a foot falling on a gravel path.
Harmony stands up. Another footstep, heavy and slow, dragging across the ground.
All other noises fade into the background, a distant hum of white noise against the crisp sound of crunching gravel.
I squint, searching the darkness where the path opens to the beach. I can see nothing but night.
“Damian?” Harmony calls again, this time with an edge of doubt in her voice.
Someone gasps.
A shadow emerges out of the blackness, but something is not right. It’s too tall to be Giovanni, too skinny to be Damian. Harmony covers her mouth with her hand.
Someone whimpers.
The figure takes another step, and the outline of a man’s body is unmistakable now. He makes a noise, something guttural, almost not human.
Someone cries.
And then he drops to the ground.