Shane gasped; jolting forward in her chair as nature flung its wrath against the canvas that sheltered her and the other nine contestants. She turned and glared at the pathetic ‘housing’. A week and five days the ten contestants, the show’s executive and co-producer and medical team had been cooped up in this hodgepodge of hovels. The vital readings, gear checks, and all the other procedures were long since completed and should have already embarked, but the producers of the show claimed the suits of the network were causing the beratement of departure delays. Now Shane and the rest were teetering upon week two. Shane placed her a hand on the flapping wall to steady its pestering. The cold seeped through the weathered canvas nipping her at the touch.
Shane stood up and stretched. “I’m ready to get out of here.” She caught a glimpse of an aggressive river beyond a waving brush as the wicked wind pried it’s way inside. The mere sight added to the cold. Shane crossed her arms and shivered.
Shane turned to see a man, Elliot, sitting across from her; talking to his camcorder as if it were a person. He had done this before and quite often. Elliot was odd but that did not stop Shane from enjoying several conversations she’d had with him over the course of this ordeal. Regardless of his oddity, Shane liked Elliot. Additionally, he was cute; in his own way.
Elliot tickled the bottom side of the camera lens. “Looks like her wits have frozen.”
“Oh?” Shane replied as she sat back down. She shot Elliot a glare, then almost immediately burst into an inquisitive smile. “You’re not ready to get out of here and start this thing? We’ve been crammed in hell for days, and now…with no real answer as to when this show will actually get going. No pun intended…”
Elliot turned his camera off and sat it to rest on his lap. He crossed his arms and leaned his back against the wall. Immediately, Elliot thought better and leaned forward again, but this time he hunched over himself and the camera; rocking back and forth. “No where near’s cold in here as it is out there. I’m not in no hurry. Might welcome an ember of Hell’s warmth before too long.”
“I just…I want to get this over with.” Shane sighed.
“Like I said, Eve…” Elliot looked into his lap and rattled the camera. “…wits is frozen.”
“At least here we aren’t as miserable as we are going to be out there. I’d enjoy this small comfort while it lasts.”
“Elliot, I’m just…you know…in a hurry.”
“No matter how much you will your pace, you won’t persuade the stubbornness of time.”
“Well… I guess I should hope that time remain stubborn…”
“Attention contestants,” A voice blared from each contestant’s radio. All ten looked at each other then each adjusted their comms device to a more desirable decibel for being in such a cramped confinement. “Circumstances holding off departure have been….” The comms made a cutoff noise. A moment later the voice returned; disrupting the suspenseful silence. “Alright…Yeah! Looks like matters are clearing up…more official directives seem to be coming in and we should be able to get you all out of here and where you need to be soon. Remember your assigned randomized number. When your’s is called proceed to the departure team. They’re the ones who will be dressed in yellow. Probably be…”—The comm clicked off and almost immediately clicked back on. “…Give us a minute.” The comm clicked off.
“Why in such a hurry to get back?” Elliot asked, continuing the conversation as if they had not been interrupted. Elliot leaned forward. “Oh…” He placed both of his hands onto Shane’s left hand that she had resting on her knee. “Because of your sister?”
Aside from Elliot being attractive, Shane’s sister was the reason Shane was drawn to Elliot in the first place. Shane’s sister and Elliot, shared the same name so it was an easy ice-breaker. Coincidentally this man—Elliot—replaced the vacant spot in the competition Elliot—Shane’s sister—had vacated after learning of her diagnoses. Elliot had convinced…more-so pushed Shane to continue without her. ‘The show must go on’ her sister had said; an uncomfortable motivation attempt. Reluctantly, Shane acquiesced but had not told anyone else in the competition—other than when Shane had been initially interviewed by the film crew—those sappy details of her story, nor did she divulge to her new friend, Elliot, that he had replaced her sister, specifically.
Elliot projected empathy with a tisk and tapped on his camera.
Shane shifted and looked elsewhere; nowhere in particular, just not at Elliot. Jude’s wandering eye met Shane’s and they each nodded to each other. Jude was…a bit aged and it showed during training, but Shane did admire the woman’s passion. However, concerning Jude’s joints, Shane lacked confidence. Shane continued to meander with her gander.
The comm clicked. “Number 1, you’re up.”
Ron, a bulwark of a man, cursed excitedly and leapt to his feet. He clapped his hands once, rubbed them together and looked around the room. Ron had gained everyone’s attention. Most of them shot Ron a disapproving glare. He looked to be sizing each and every contestant up one last time. At least that’s what Shane assumed. She had been doing the exact same. The man collected his survival gear, scant that it was. “First one called. Last one to extract!” Ron strutted slow toward the door while waving an un-polite gesture to the lot of them. After Ron passed by Hickory— an overall gentlemen; clearly a spawn of the south—he paused. Spontaneously irate, Ron took a step backward. He bent to Hickory’s eye-line and spoke lowly; however, Shane could still hear him. “Better hope neither of us stumble upon each other.” Ron glimpsed down and noticed Hickory holding a this sheet of paper. Ron flicked the sheet with his finger. Hickory ignored Ron; almost completely. His stare remained fixed to the paper firmly clenched within his grasp. “Your God might not be able to have your back out there.” Ron pat Hickory on the back and stood. He strolled to the departure team that had just entered from outside, ushering in a horrible cold. They conversed briefly with Ron and soon the departure team, along with Ron, exited.
Hickory remained silent and unabashed.
Shane knew what Hickory held. A singly sheet of scripture that he refused to part with. The producers allowed this item, however, not only did this allowance count as his one photograph allowed, but also had to forfeit an extra item. All of the contestants—even Ron—were in agreement with the alteration. Apparently some harbored offense.
“That there is a damned jackass if I’d ever met one.” Elliot said quietly, drawing Shane’s attention back. “Eve…” Elliot said down to the camera. “Keep a lens on that one.”
“Did you have a run in with Ron too?”
“I think we all had a run in with Ron.” Elliot replied.
“I know I did.” Inserted Wutah, who sat a few feet away from Shane. “So did she.” Wutah pointed to Jude. “Bout got in a fight, they did.”
Shane shook her head. “Some people…”
“Some people…” echoed Elliot; tinkering with his camera.
“Lot of people” Wutah added.
Jude stood. Panic betrayed her excitement and she sat back down. Jude bowed her head for a time; nodded, then stood back up while at the same time hefting her gear. Her departure team entered. Once again, nature’s temper was ushered in and some of the collective groaned discomfort. Not Shane. As with Ron, the team spoke quietly to Jude and they were quickly off.
Not long later, number 3 was called. Then the fourth. Then, much later, the fifth.Knowing that the contest was officially approaching, Shane’s stomach seemed to lift and upend itself. She closed her eyes and leaned back.
“Number seven, please see to your departure crew”
Shane perked up. Had Gracie already called? She looked around the shelter and sure enough, contestant six was gone and now exited the seventh. Shane didn’t engage much with contestant seven. He never even offered his name. She had asked the man, but he had awkwardly altered the conversation and eventually scurried off into isolation. Since then, Shane exerted no effort to communicate and he exerted no effort in appearing any less skittish. Elliot had informed Shane, much later, that that contestant’s name was Marcus.
Another good while passed between Marcus leaving and the call for contestant eight, which happened to be Elliot. When the announcement came two contestants stood. Elliot eyed contestant nine. Jedrek eyed his hand and looked to have confirmed something, then…embarrassed, sat back down.
Elliot looked at Shane and winked. “Some people…”
“Some people.” Shane smiled. “Good luck to you! Please, stay safe.”
“You too!" Do me a favor though…”
“Please, don’t rush yourself into defeat. I’m sure you sister would understand if you endured to the end.”
“Between us…” Elliot placed a hand on Shane’s shoulder and leaned close, but not uncomfortably so for Shane. “I’ll be rooting for you…well, should I tap.”
Shane was taken aback. She had not expected Elliot to give her his support in the competition because…well this was a competition. Shane was unable to voice a reply so she nodded. Elliot stepped away and soon departed with his team.
Shane shot Jedrek a glare. “At least he can count.” Jedrek retaliated with his own look. Shane wasn’t intimidated. She looked towards the exit where Elliot had just left. “I think he is kind of cute, in his own way.”
Contestant 9. It’s your time! The comm clicked off just as soon as it clicked on. Ha! I rhymed! The comm returned then went silent.
Jedrek waved Shane away and collected his gear and as was the procedure with all those who came before, contestant nine’s crew escorted him out.
For a time, Shane was left to herself. Her thoughts. Her anxiety. She had worked hard just to achieve this moment but right now Shane wanted nothing more than to abandoned this foolish endeavor and return home.
Elliot would kill me if I gave up before the ‘show’ even started…Plus, I would be a laughing stock to the entirety of Left’s community. No… No…I will be the last one to survive. I will win this season. Elliot’s life may very well depend on it.
“And finally…” The comm erupted. “Last but not least, and I bet you’re tired of being here…” The voice quieted. “As am I... Number 10! Please see to your departure team and exit the facility.
Shane stood; collecting her possession's and hoisting the burden upon her shoulders. Turning to leave, a group of three individuals had already entered and were patiently waiting. Shane greeted them on the approach. One of them, a burly brute of a man acknowledged the greeting and gave her a brief rundown of what to expect both before and after drop off.
A different person of the group peeled back the exit and introduced Shane to a cold more fierce than expected. She hunched over embracing herself. Immediately her back tensed. She expected cold, but this she felt to pierce through to her bone.
Shane unfurled herself and nodded to the woman inviting the cold. With mustered confidence Shane exited and was led over to the river where numerous other utility boats were docked, but only ten of them looked prepped to embark. Of those ten boats, only one remained vacant; the other nine, each filled and fitted with a production crew for the contestant’s initial departure. However, once each person arrived at their own isolated destination the filming was up to the contestant to produce.
The burly man held up a hand to Shane once arriving at the boat. “Hang on. Kari, get the gear stowed.” His face was red, but he didn’t appear angry. “Lyle, get rid’ the darn clutter on my floor!”
“I…” Lyle hesitated. “Sorry Bruce.” Lyle hopped into the boat.
“Don’t apologize to me. Apologize to her.” Bruce tossed a nod to Shane.
“Oh, no…its fine!” Shane consoled.
“Don’t listen to her.” Bruce glared at a clamoring Lyle. He then gave an uncomfortable smile to Shane while waiting.
“I reminded him earlier, Bru—”
“I’m done! I’m done! Damn, ya’ll. It’s clean. There!”
“Thanks mate.” Bruce hopped in. The boat rocked but he appeared unaffected by the instability. “Sorry about that, miss. I’m embarrassed you saw my charge in the shape she was.”
“Please, no need to apologize…” Shane said.
Lyle extended a hand out toward her. Shane took Lyle’s hand and was immediately welcomed into the boat by Kari.
Shane shifted the weight of the gear burdening her shoulder.
“Thank you, Lyle. Hello, Kari!”
All the comms clicked on and the same voice from before spurted out, “Departure check.”
Shane shivered. Either from her indecisive nerves or blistering cold she knew not. Probably a good deal of both.
“Number 1…Aye.” At this confirmation Ron stood from his seat, gestured much too unkindly toward Hickory, winked, and then smooched the air in front of him. Still, and to Shane’s amazement, Hickory paid Ron no mind. Ron, still irate, flung himself down into his seat.
Shane happened to glance upon Elliot, who, also happened to be already eyeing her. He shook his head and mouthed ‘some people’.
Shane smiled. “Some people.” She mouthed back.
“Number 2…Set?” The departure checks continued on with everyone happily confirming that they, at long last, were finally setting out to get this show on the road.
Shane waved her goodbye’s to every one as they all steered toward different directions; Shane, Elliot and three other boats puttered northerly while the rest made for the south.
A long while passed before the first boat of Shane’s group veered toward shore. Eventually Elliot’s boat broke away. Shane watched Elliot beginning to document his arrival. At some point Elliot noticed Shane and turned Eve’s lens toward her. Shane waved a fond farewell to Elliot—through Eve—as her boat kept true but Elliot’s cared sharply in the opposite direction. Strangely she became sad. She would likely never see Elliot again. Jedreck’s boat changed course as well, but Shane withheld her parting.
Instead, in Shane’s declining mood, her thought gave to her sister. She withdrew a photograph from a back pocket; examining the photo like she had not gazed upon it countless times already. Her left thumb drug back and forth across the gloss.
“Hold on, Elliot.” Shane whispered to herself. “We will see each other again.” She closed her eyes and bowed her head. Dear sister…stay strong. Fight. Survive.
The boat jarred Shane but not her mustered resolve as the vessel skid ashore.
“I will be the last one left.”
*text written and read for you by Josiah Norton
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