Episode 3
We’re two days in and my team doesn’t have fire, water or a shelter.
The initial excitement of arriving on the island has worn off, replaced by the reality of being completely exposed to the elements.
We are already filthy and the cracks in our group dynamic are forming under the island’s sweltering heat.
“At least we have chickens.” I sigh, reaching for another piece of bamboo. “Bo volunteered to watch them.”
“Can’t cook rotisserie without fire,” Lex mutters underneath her breath. She massages the tight coils of her short black hair before positioning her wrap into a headband.
She has a point.
Beya approaches and tosses a pile of palm leaves by the logs. She glances over her shoulder toward the trail Atlas disappeared down ten minutes ago, then lowers her voice. “Atlas really makes my fur stand up. She’s grumpier than my cat Russell, and that’s saying something.”
Lex’s jaw tightens. “She can kiss my Black ass trying to order me around. I cannot stand being talked down to. That’s my one pet peeve. I’m with Beya.”
“She certainly isn’t as coachable as she preaches,” I say.
The island heat plus Atlas is getting under everyone’s skin.
Having a professional athlete is a huge strength for challenges, but I don’t know if I can deal with her parading around camp acting like a coach from hell.
I recall one of Megan’s rules she warned me about.
Don’t be anyone’s boss out the gate. Paya comes to mind. I shake my head. How ironic.
“Where’s Bo?” I ask, adjusting the drawstring around my shorts.
Dana, a veteran of the game show, chops at a coconut with a machete and grins in my direction. “Isn’t that the question of the century? She’s probably hunting for a relic. Not a good look for day two.”
Lex dabs at beads of sweat on her forehead. “Bo’s off hunting in the jungle. She said she practically lives outdoors and went on about how she’s skilled at small game hunting and foraging.”
“Hopefully she’ll catch some food,” I say. We’ll need all we can get out here. Having to boil our own water is enough of a chore. I return my attention to building our shelter.
Dana drives the machete into another coconut, splitting to top clean off.
The sun catches the gray streaks in her short shaggy hair and the embroidered rainbow patch on her denim shorts.
She slides the coconuts toward me, Lex and Beya.
“Let’s take a breather. This heat isn’t doing us any favors, anyway.
How about I tell you all some key things I’ve learned about the game? I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t.”
We accept, and I lower to the ground appreciating a much needed break.
When Dana sits next to me, I lean forward with my elbows on my knees.
Fifteen years my senior, she’s in better shape than any of us.
With multiple seasons of reality TV under her belt, she has more experience than the rest of us combined.
She single-handedly made the show peak in popularity.
Unlike Atlas, Dana is humble and has the record to back up her claims, which I’ve come to respect even more since I’ve watched her gameplay on TV with Megan.
Dana is the first Latina player to make it to the final five on The Final Summit.
I remember the way my sister cheered at the TV, how inspired she was to sign up afterwards.
Despite the miserable Thai heat, I smile to myself.
Having this level of industry knowledge across from me feels like a stroke of luck I didn’t expect to have.
“Here’s how we can be successful. Teamwork is everything out here.
I know it’s my old school ways, but we have to work together and win challenges.
If we start losing, voting at The Summit will crush our team in more ways than one and no one here wants to go home.
We’re all trying to make it to the merge.
When the two teams combine into one and we start voting people out as individuals, it’s anyone’s game truly.
The people you vote for form the jury. Keep that in mind.
They’re the ones who decide the winner of the million dollars.
The endgame is staying in long enough to convince them you deserve it. ”
Beya looks up from the palm fronds she’s been stacking. “Production never tells us when the merge is, but I’ve always noticed it’s usually around the halfway point. Around twenty days in?”
Dana nods, pleased. “Exactly. Until then we survive by winning challenges and working camp life as a team. After the merge, it’s a new game. Fresh faces, new strategies. I’m old school though; loyal to a fault. I got burned on that last season.”
She takes a long sip from her own coconut and stares off for a moment as if recounting a memory.
“Unfortunately, that’s the nature of the game.
The people you trust today will be the ones writing your name down tomorrow.
Now, my wife always reminds me before I leave, No confíes ni en tu propia sombra.
Solo en tu corazón. Don’t trust your own shadow.
Only your heart. She runs our little cottage back home and she certainly doesn’t keep our goats safe by trusting coyotes. ”
“Sabias palabras,” I murmur louder than I intended. If only I heard that advice before trusting a clout-chasing business consultant. She’d never admit it, though deep down I know that’s why she slept with me.
I look up to see Dana’s face spark with surprise. “My stepmom and sister are Afro-Latina,” I say, smiling. “Spanish was a requirement growing up.”
Dana lifts her coconut in a small toast. “Smart household.”
Lex glances between us, perplexed. “I took five years of Spanish in school and I don’t remember one word.”
Beya grins at Lex fixing her button-down shirt. “Let me know if you want to give Mandarin a try. My grandmother made sure I was fluent. My cats understand it better than my dad’s side of the family. They still butcher my last name. We have time.”
We laugh, our mood lifting. Dana’s face softens into something more focused as she gets back to business. A little camaraderie goes a long way.
“And keep your eyes open.” Dana points the machete loosely toward the tree line. “Production hides Sappho’s Relics and different types of advantages out here every season.”
Dana’s a huge threat. She’s a relic magnet. One season I watched her find three, ensuring her alliance made it to the final five, only to turn around and get blindsided. So much for hoy por ti, manana por mí.
Eventually, Atlas returns from failing to make a fire after claiming she didn’t need any help. Dana continues telling stories of her experiences as we make progress on our shelter.
“Find a relic, play it before votes are read. Any votes against you don’t count. Could be the difference between going home and making it to the jury.”
Lex sits up straighter. “You’re a relic king. How do you always know where to look? Asking for a friend.”
Dana laughs. “Luck and you just gotta keep your eyes peeled for anything that seems out of place. Check tree trunks. Rock crevices. Inside coconuts that look heavier than they should. You know where I found a relic that season?” She points at our mailbox at the edge of camp.
“Tucked right inside the camp mail stand. Production loves hiding things in plain sight.”
The sound of a boat rumbling in the distance yanks my attention toward the water.
“I thought we had three days between challenges?” I ask. My muscles are still recovering from yesterday.
Dana wipes the machete on her shorts. “That’s typically how it goes, but you never know what twists this game brings. I’ve played over one hundred days of this game and it’s been different each time. Let’s go see.”
We gather around the boat. A Thai woman with short black hair shuts off the engine, stands and unfolds a paper in her hand. “Celeste Ashford.”
I step forward at the sound of my name.
“You’ve been selected to go to Outcast Isle. Come with me.”
* * *
Being stuck on a remote island staring at Paya in a bikini and shorts until tomorrow morning is the last thing I expected.
“How’s your grandmother?” The words come out before I fully step off the boat. Small talk was never really my forte.
She hesitates before offering a lopsided grin that tells me everything I need to know. “She’s better. Getting stronger every day.”
Right. “Wonderful.” I keep my voice neutral.
Not that any of my employees owe me their reasons on how they use their personal time off, however lying about a sick grandparent was quite unnecessary and surprising coming from Paya to say the least. I thought she had more respect for me than that.
“I’m glad her condition is improving. You must be pleased at her rapid recovery. ”
“Total medical marvel,” Paya mutters toward the ground.
She rubs the back of her neck and starts rambling.
“My family makes this broth that is rumored to cure almost anything. It’s got bone marrow and turmeric—stuff to fight a standard, very serious, life-threatening grandmother illness that required my immediate, undivided attention.
Which is now over. Because she’s…now healthy. Practically doing cardio.”
A smile tugs at my lips. No matter how adorable I find her rambling when she’s anxious, she shouldn’t have lied to me. I’m no one’s fool. Never again, anyways. “She was never sick was she?”
Paya studies my arched brow for a long moment.
Finally, her shoulders drop and she exhales, kicking the sand.
“No. Not in the way I implied. Just a kooky old bat that I love dearly.” She halts her step, crosses her arms over her chest and it’s her turn to challenge me.
“Would you have approved my PTO otherwise?”
I give her a look, fighting to keep my eyes from trailing up and down her toned frame for the third time this afternoon. She knows me better than I thought. “Touchè.”