No one is even looking at him.
The next day, Carpenter Chick and Zoo are sitting together on a fallen tree. Carpenter Chick is carving a crude spatula while Zoo hones a figure-four deadfall. “They should have kicked him off, or at least confiscated his cross,” says Carpenter Chick. “I know,” says Zoo, in the tone of you’ve said this before. Then Zoo looks up, perplexed. Someone is approaching, crunching heavily through the woods. She knows it’s not another one of the contestants. Even the noisiest woods walker among them has adjusted, moving now with steps that are at least careful if not quiet. These steps are proud and destructive. They are alien. Carpenter Chick looks up too, and a moment later the host appears, as clean and arrogant as ever, several cameramen in tow.
“Good morning!” he booms. Zoo and Carpenter Chick exchange a glance, and Zoo mouths, Morning? They’ve been awake since sunrise; ten o’clock feels much later to them than it does to the host, who awoke only two hours ago. “Gather ’round, it’s time for your next Challenge.”
Everyone but Tracker and Air Force, who are out checking traps, quickly assembles around the fallen tree. The on-site producer says into a radio, “Bring them in.” Fourteen minutes later, Air Force’s blond eyebrows jump upon seeing the host. Tracker betrays no surprise; he feels none. When a cameraman appeared and told them, calmly, that they were needed back at camp, he reasoned it was time for another scripted event.
“What you’ve all accomplished over the last few days is very impressive,” says the host. “But it’s time to leave it all behind for another Team Challenge.” He asks Waitress and Air Force to step forward. “As the winners of our last Challenge”—surprise flashes across Waitress’s face; her victory feels so long ago—“you each get to pick three teammates. The remaining contestants will form a third team.”
“Ad tenebras dedi,” says Carpenter Chick.
Even the host is for a moment flabbergasted.
Zoo gives a surprised huh. The other night while they were cooking together, Carpenter Chick told Zoo she was thinking of leaving, but she’d said it in the same tone with which she had talked about joining a kibbutz. Zoo didn’t understand then how much it bothered Carpenter Chick that Exorcist didn’t face any repercussions for abandoning his team and an injured man, but she does now.
“What are you doing?” asks Engineer. He liked working on the shelter with Carpenter Chick, teasing each other about pulleys and levers, cracking geeky pop-culture jokes that are all cut by the editor because they reference shows on competing networks.
Biology touches Carpenter Chick’s arm. “You can’t give up now,” she says; her teacherly self sees a high-achieving individual refusing to achieve. A few of the others mutter incoherent objections.
“Sorry,” says Carpenter Chick. “But I’m done.” That’s all she is allowed before being whisked away. Her reasons for leaving will be boiled down to a simple statement: “I knew I wasn’t going to win and I wasn’t feeling Fan Favorite, so I thought, Why stay?” But this isn’t precisely true; she thinks she had a shot—not at first, but second or third maybe. When she adds, “It’s not worth it,” she’s not referring to the prize money, or her time.
The faces of the ten remaining contestants are a study in surprise—except for Tracker’s. He stands at the end of the line, impassive. The host confers briefly with the producer, then announces a change of rules: Waitress and Air Force will now each pick two teammates instead of three, and the remaining contestants will become a team of four.
He stands before Waitress and puts out his hands, fists closed. “Pick one.” Waitress taps his right hand, which blossoms into an empty palm. The left reveals a mottled pebble. “You get first pick,” says the host to Air Force.
Air Force is going to pick his best friend. It’s obvious, so obvious that even Tracker is surprised when he is chosen instead. It’s a gamble. Air Force is noticeably tense until Waitress picks Zoo. Then he chooses Black Doctor, who smiles at him, understanding and approving of his strategy. Waitress rounds out her team with Rancher, whose quiet steadfastness she finds soothing.
“What, no one wants me? Again?” Exorcist says, as he moves to stand with Engineer, Biology, and Banker. Being divided after working together for so long feels strange to many of the contestants. The last few days lulled them into a false sense of cooperation—which was, of course, the point.
The host gives them the TV version of their instructions:
“Three friends came into these woods yesterday for a day hike. None were seasoned hikers and they were overconfident. They didn’t bring water or food or a map. Midday yesterday they reached the peak, where they became separated. They’re lost. It’s up to you to find them, and it is imperative that you do so before sunset.”
The groups are given clarifying instructions off camera—“When you find your hiker,” says the host, “you must verify his identity”—as well as a couple hours to pack their meager belongings and return their camp to a more natural state. But not a fully natural state—they are instructed to leave their shelter. The producers want to make it the focal point of a social media contest, allow a fan to win a weekend stay in the lean-to.
Eventually—and it is mid-afternoon now—the contestants are led back to the clearing where they began their bear-tracking Challenge five days ago. From there, each team is led to the “last known location” of their specific target and given an envelope containing information about him.
The groups are signaled to begin. Out of one another’s sight, Waitress, Air Force, and Engineer rip open their respective envelopes.
“Timothy Hamm,” says Waitress. “Caucasian male, age twenty-six. Five-eleven, one hundred eighty-two pounds. Brown hair, brown eyes. Last seen wearing jeans and a red fleece jacket.” As she reads, viewers will see an image of an actor fitting that description.
The same occurs as Air Force and Engineer read about their targets, respectively:
“Abbas Farran, Caucasian male, age twenty-five, five-ten, one hundred sixty-five pounds, black hair, brown eyes. Last seen wearing a yellow sweater and jeans.”
And “Eli Schuster, Caucasian male, age twenty-six, five-eight, one hundred sixty-one pounds, brown hair, hazel eyes. Last seen wearing a blue T-shirt, white vest, and cargo pants.”
At Abbas’s picture, many viewers will say things like “Arab,” “Islamist,” and “Terrorist,” with varying intonations. “No way they’re friends” will be the common refrain. But in this case, the show is misrepresenting reality less blatantly than usual. The friendship between the Jewish and Muslim actors is real; it’s why they were cast. Though neither had met the man playing Timothy Hamm before this gig.
This Challenge is intended to be the climax of the premiere week, but it starts out slowly. Air Force defers to Tracker and their team sets off after Abbas, whose passage through a tight thicket is marked by snapped branches, scuffed ground cover, and, most tellingly, a duo of yellow threads pulled from his sweater by thorns.
At Waitress’s urging, Zoo takes the lead for their team. “This is going to be fun,” Zoo tells her partners, both of whom look at her dubiously. She quickly finds the boot prints and red threads marking Timothy’s passage.