Engineer’s tinder bundle has burnt out at his feet. The host attempts to regain control by clapping him on the back. “Time for your reward!” The contestants trickle over. Exorcist arrives last and stands on the far side of the group from Tracker.
Meanwhile, out of sight, Black Doctor tells the EMT, “I felt the pop,” and they exchange a knowing look. Black Doctor’s next look is for the camera, as he says with only a sliver of bitterness, “Ad tenebras dedi.”
The host says to Engineer, “First, you get to choose one other person to join you in your advantage.”
Engineer names Zoo, quickly and decisively. She steps forward to join him.
The host pulls two plastic bags filled with dry pasta out of the duffel.
Zoo has decided to pretend that nothing unusual has happened, to play the role she was assigned. She takes the one-pound bag of penne and grins until it hurts. “Pasta!” she says, trying so hard to make up for cracking last night. “Thank you.” Engineer is as pleased by her reaction as he is by his own bag of penne.
“And,” says the host, “you each now get to steal one item from any other contestant.” Waitress gasps; Biology grimaces; Air Force doesn’t care, he’s still thinking about Black Doctor. “But before you do, know that the next phase of this competition is a long-term Solo Challenge. Starting tonight, each of you is going to be entirely on your own.”
About time, thinks Zoo. Tracker looks to the ground, thinking the same. Most of the others grumble.
Engineer chooses first, stealing Tracker’s thermal blanket. “Sorry, man,” he says. Engineer gets cold easily; he feels chilly even now, despite the warm afternoon air.
“Anything other than the blanket can now be yours,” says the host to Zoo.
Zoo’s thinking about her pasta and how to cook it. Her plastic water bottles will melt if put in the fire. Even attempting hot-stone cooking will probably damage them. “I’ll take one of those metal cups,” she says to Waitress. She doesn’t feel bad, doesn’t apologize. Waitress has two, after all.
An intern bursts out of the woods, lugging a backpack and the post with the pink and yellow bandanas. He sets the post upright near the host and whispers into his ear.
“What happened?” asks Air Force, turning quickly toward the woods. “Where’s Doc?”
“The good doctor didn’t make it,” says the host. That’s all he knows, but he says it like he’s hiding something and Air Force wants to punch him in the face. The host pulls out Black Doctor’s mustard-yellow bandana and stabs it into the post.
“What happened?” Air Force demands again.
The host ignores him, stepping away to confer with the on-site producer. When he returns he speaks as though he never left. “Due to the circumstances of your next Challenge, we will be distributing his supplies now.” He takes two water bottles and the water purification drops out of the backpack. “I doubt anyone will be surprised by who these go to.” He hands the drops and one bottle to Air Force. “And this.” He hands the other bottle to Banker, who was kind when Black Doctor hurt his hand. “But we do have one surprise.” With a flourish he pulls out the wrinkled black trash bag that Black Doctor received from Cheerleader Boy. “This goes to…” He eyes the contestants, and then jerks his head to stare at Zoo. “You.”
“Huh,” says Zoo. She had a few casual conversations with Black Doctor, but nothing memorable. This gift, as small as it may be, is a mystery to her.
Waitress scowls, watching. If this episode were ever edited, if it were to air, it would cut now from her sour face to Black Doctor. “I hope Ethan wins,” he says. He’s sitting on a log, his arm in a sling. “Give him the drops and a water. Elliot can have the other.” He closes his eyes for a moment, clearly in pain. “The bag? Give it to that woman, the blonde with the green eyes who tries so hard. She’s here for the right reasons.” With that, an EMT helps him up and starts leading him down the trail. A moment later, the cameraman turns away, and the EMT drops Black Doctor’s arm.
The host hands each contestant a marked orienteering map. “These will get each of you to your home for the night. You will receive new instructions in the morning. Over the course of this Solo Challenge, new supplies will be made available for each of you, but they will not always be obvious. So, stay aware and remember your color—or starve.”
“How long will this Challenge last?” asks Rancher.
“You’ll know when it’s over.”
“What are we supposed to eat?” asks Waitress. She’s almost out of rice. Her eyes flick toward Air Force, accusing.
“As I said, stay aware—or starve.” The host likes that line. Tonight he will be sleeping in a hotel, and as he gets ready for bed he will repeat it to himself with various intonations and flourishes. “Good luck,” he says, and then he walks a few steps away, just out of frame.
Tracker orients his map and compass, then turns to the group. He makes eye contact with Zoo and mouths, You can do this, then starts off toward the first landmark indicated on his map: a small lake about a mile north. He is unfazed by the loss of his thermal blanket; he hasn’t used it once.
As Engineer and Zoo pack their new supplies, Rancher, Air Force, Biology, and Banker set off on their separate paths. Waitress looks at her map and bites her lip—unconsciously. She’s terrified. Exorcist sees this. He’s still a little rattled himself, and for the first time he approaches her with kindness. “You’ll be fine,” he says.
“I know,” she snaps.
Exorcist’s anger flares. “Or maybe you won’t be. Maybe you’ll starve, or fall down a hole. No loss either way.” He gives her one last sneer, then backtracks down the trail toward where the group spent the night.
Engineer pauses at Waitress’s side before following Exorcist. “Good luck,” he says. Waitress returns his honest smile.
Waitress takes a deep breath. “You can do this,” she says. Zoo watches her go, then follows her own map into the woods to the east.
The contestants dribble into their campsites—sparse patches of forest or field marked only by a bow-drill kit in each contestant’s color—and settle in with varying degrees of comfort. Zoo tosses the bow drill aside, uses her fire starter, and dines on plain pasta. “It’s nice to be alone,” she says. Engineer succeeds in bowing another coal and also eats hot food, though he cooks his in a leaf-lined hole in the ground. “Whatever works,” he says. He drapes the thermal blanket over his shoulders as he eats. He’s soon shivering anyway.
Waitress builds a shallow shelter and distracts herself from her fear by focusing on the swell of nausea in her otherwise empty belly. “I’m starving,” she says, though she knows that’s not right. Exorcist digs up some grubs from a rotting log and swallows them with great showmanship. Biology thinks about her partner back home and chews some mint she found near her campsite. Rancher takes off his boots and flicks a spur as he stretches his toes. Banker runs a hand through his sweaty hair, then builds a small fire. “Only nine matches left,” he says.
Two of the Solo camps are different. Air Force finds a dark blue tent at his destination, and Tracker finds a red one. Neither man realizes that this is their reward for reaching their lost hiker in time yesterday. They assume the others are also given shelter. Tracker ducks inside without comment, sprawls across the floor and closes his eyes. Air Force stands outside the tent flap for a moment, fuming silently. He wants to go back for Black Doctor. But this isn’t a war zone, or even a training exercise, and leaving men behind is essential to any race. “What do you think about—” his cameraman starts, but Air Force stalls him with a gruff, “No.”
Several hundred yards away, an intern disassembles a mustard-colored tent.
21.
He’s alive. He must be. I’m alive, Brennan too. The brothers whose cries drift in our wake, they survived. Others must have too. My husband could be among them. He could.
“Mae?” whispers Brennan. We’re hobbling down the street, moving too fast and not fast enough. “I had to. Right?”
I see the familiar rivulets running down his cheeks. I think of the machete, jutting.