Mayday (Reality Check #1), page 11
In the meantime, I helped Jessa up, where she scrambled to the lake and washed her hands, scrubbing the skin over and over until my hand on her forearm stopped her. “They’re clean. You’re clean. You can stop now.”
She was shaking. “I... okay.”
I helped her back to the set where the crew was busy carrying away the fish. “Oh, hell no! I yelled. “We want those.”
Ruger chimed in. “You mean whomever wins, wants those, right?”
“That’s what I said.”
Randall smiled, talking into the cameras, and then he waved for us to approach him. Ruger and Star stepped up, looking shaken but more confident as they faced the host. Jessa stood beside me. My hand found the small of her back, and her dark brown eyes met mine. “Stay with me,” she pleaded.
“I will.”
‘The next challenge,” Randall announced dramatically, “will feature the ladies once again. Jessa and Star will have to climb to the top of a palm tree, chop down three coconuts, and make it back to the ground safely. No shoes, ladies.”
Star discussed strategy with Ruger. He was telling her how to grip the tree with her thighs. Easier said than done when she wore nothing but a bikini. What a dick. I turned to Jessa. “This is going to suck, and you’ll probably be chafed in the end, but you’ve seen my shimmy. Just use the soles of your feet.”
“This is so aggravatin’. They just want to show our asses on national television.”
It was true. No arguing the point. “So, just make sure yours gets to the coconuts first.”
Star was tilting the machete side to side and hacking the air the way Ruger was showing her. I didn’t have to worry about that with Jess. She knew what she was doing.
Each girl was led to a different tree, a camera crew swarming the bottom of each one. Randall stood between them with his arms outstretched. “Ladies, get ready.” He raised the pistol. “GO!”
Jessa and Star were about the same size and build, and they both made their way up the trees at around the same speed, their feet occasionally slipping on the tree bark. Jessa looked damn near emaciated, though, and I could tell the lack of food was taking its toll. She reached the top first, held onto the trunk with one hand, and grabbed the machete with the other.
Two coconuts crashed to the ground, followed by a third, and then she was sliding down. Star’s three fell to the earth, right on Jessa’s heels, but Jessa beat her. She fell to the ground, wincing and pulling her feet in to her body. I rushed to her side. “Let me see. How bad is it?”
“Feels pretty bad,” she gritted.
The skin on the inside of her feet was shredded. Blood began to pool. “Don’t look at it, Jess.”
Randall called for a medic. Star was in much the same condition. I looked at the camera and growled. “You shouldn’t have sent them up there without shoes and clothes!” I admonished angrily.
“Stop it, Finn. I’m fine,” Jessa said.
Two medics arrived on another ATV and quickly went to work on the girls’ feet, applying ointment and wrapping them tightly. The medic attending Jessa looked at both of us. “If you make it through this and stay, you’ll have to keep them clean. An infection could be life-threatening out here. We’re days from the nearest hospital.”
When the commotion was over and both ladies were standing again, Randall made a big speech to the cameras about dedication and sacrifice, about how the girls were brave to continue on. “But now, it’s the fellas’ turn.”
He turned to face us, rubbing his palms together. “For thousands of years, men have celebrated... the ability to make fire. Tonight, you will have to do just that, only faster than your opponent.”
My stomach hit the ground. Jessa hadn’t gotten around to teaching me that yet. I’d watched her, so eventually I’d be able to do it. But faster than Ruger? I didn’t know for sure, but I was guessing he was the survival expert of the duo. Maybe it was the way Star held the machete like it was a foreign object.
“Flat piece of wood, spindle, shoestring, knife, kindling, and sheer determination, Finn. That’s it.”
“That’s it,” I repeated, bouncing on the balls of my feet nervously.
“Ready?” Randall called out. He held the pistol overhead and yelled “Go!” as he fired a single shot. I took off running to the right and didn’t see Ruger again until I had what I needed. He was already there untying his shoe. Jessa coached me on how to knot and tie the string tight, and once I had it, she gave me a thumbs up. I whittled wood shavings so fast, I even impressed Randall.
“This is a real battle royale, folks. Finn is pulling ahead.”
I made a pile and began carving a small divot for the spindle and a little path for the ember to fall down, praying, Please, Lord, let this work.
Just as Jessa struggled in the beginning, so did I. Every movement was jerky and restrictive.
“Ruger’s wearing it down!” Randall cheered.
Soon, my own bow was moving fast and furious against the wood. Twin streams of smoke wafted up from our pieces of wood.
“Is that an ember?” Randall said excitedly. I stopped to look, only to realize he wasn’t talking to me. Getting the spindle going again, I realized my mistake. I shouldn’t have paused, not even for a second.
When he stopped using the bow and began blowing his ember, moving it toward his pile of kindling, I knew I’d lost, but I gritted my teeth and pushed harder. A small ember emerged from the friction of wood against wood. I blew it gently. “Shield it with your hands, Finn. The wind!” Jessa yelled.
I cupped my hands and tilted the wood into the shavings. Blowing gently, I waited for the spark. When it ignited, I let out a roar, beating on my chest. Looking over at Ruger, he was sitting back with a smirk on his face. “Beat you.”
All the elation I felt sank away as Jessa sat next to me on her knees.
“You did great,” she said.
Yeah, right. I lost. Again. Now we were tied and Jessa’s feet were mangled, so it was up to me to fuck this the rest of the way up. And I was positive I would.
“Jess, I’m sorry. I really tried.”
“You did amazing, Finn, and no matter what, we stick together.” Her eyes implored me to listen to her words, and of course I’d never leave without her. I didn’t know why she bothered saying it.
Chapter 24
Reality Check Magazine: You lost both of your trials and Jessa won hers. How badly did that sting?
Finn: It hurt pretty bad. It still does.
Randall spun around on us as crew members extinguished the fires we worked so hard to build with buckets full of water. The wood steamed and hissed in protest. “Ladies and gentlemen, we have a tie. And as I mentioned before, in this case, we must have a tiebreaker.”
I stood up beside Jessa, her arm threaded through mine. “We’ve got this,” she said sternly.
“Depends on what it is.”
She elbowed me. I wanted to elbow her back and act like a seven year-old, but she was a girl and that wasn’t cool.
“Mayday,” started Randall, “tests the contestants’ ability to survive in real-world situations. Take Hurricane Tillie, for example. These two,” he motioned toward us, “survived a category four hurricane, folks. No easy task. So, the producers thought, what else can they possibly do to show us they can survive anything?”
Ruger snorted from beside me, bending his neck from side to side. He was preparing for something. Maybe he already knew what was coming.
“Do you know what kills more human beings than any other creature?”
“Germs,” Jessa whispered.
“Other human beings are more of a threat to your safety than anything else; than any animal that might live in this jungle. The final trial and tiebreaker will be judged on your ability to fight off a human attacker.”
Ruger was about my size, so I had a chance at this one. I’d never been attacked before, but I kicked a guy’s ass in high school for running his mouth. I could do it again.
I looked at Jessa, whose eyes were blank as she stared forward. Yet another ATV’s engine roared through the jungle. “Hey,” I said.
She ignored me.
“Jess, I’ve got this.”
Her dark eyes met mine, and for the first time I saw something in them that scared me a little. Hollow, empty, dead. “No, Finn. I’ve got this.”
Hell, no, she didn’t. The ATV appeared with a guy in a white padded suit. Randall flashed his megawatt smile and turned to us.
“Welcome to Mayday, Eric. Eric teaches self-defense at the world-famous....”
I tuned him out. “I can do this,” I whispered to Jess. “That guy isn’t huge. I can take him.”
Her communicator dinged, and she held it up without even attempting to read it. “They want me to.”
Sure enough, the words scrawled across the digital screen said:
Jessa, you are to take part in this trial.
“Why?” I asked, ignoring Randall and the fact that I’d drawn his attention away from his camera. “Why you?”
She stood on her tippy toes and bent my head toward her, whispering in my ear. “Because I’ll win. This trial was never about replacing us. This is about breaking us.”
“Then let me do it,” I argued.
She shook her head no. “I have to do it.”
Randall asked Ruger and Star which of them would like to take the challenge. Ruger puffed out his chest and stepped forward. “I will,” he answered confidently.
The host turned to us. “And of your pair, which of you will compete?”
Jessa gave me a nod and stepped forward. Blood was already oozing through the wrappings on her feet. “I will.”
Randall looked shocked. My teeth grinded, upper verses lower. “There we have it, folks.” He pressed his earpiece and nodded once. “Ruger, you’ll go first.”
Eric and Ruger stepped toward the lake, but stayed clear of the mud. Randall followed them, along with several of the camera crew who positioned themselves in a semicircle around the pair about to spar.
“Eric is wearing a specially designed suit, and Ruger will be given a knife with a blade that will retract upon impact. If he lands a kill shot, Eric’s suit will show us.” Randall smiled. “That’s all I can tell you. You’ll have to wait and see if he can manage to land one.”
The two men shook hands and stepped away from one another, sizing each other up for weaknesses and strengths. Ruger jumped up and down a few times, shaking his arms to loosen them. Eric just prowled, nimble as a cat in front of him. Randall raised his pistol, made the call, and fired.
The two men sprang at each other. Ruger sliced at Eric’s middle, never connecting, while Eric waited for him to tire before spinning around and landing a blow to the back of Ruger’s neck. He fell to his knees, but scrambled quickly to get back up.
Ruger began slashing at the air again, and again Eric waited, kicking the back of Ruger’s knee and buckling it. Suddenly, Eric’s arm was around Ruger’s throat from behind, choking him to the point that his face was turning a mottled purple.
My fingers flexed. “No way in hell, Jessa.”
“Shut up, Finn.”
“You aren’t going through that.”
She smiled sadly. “I won’t. I promise.”
“I won’t be able to stop myself from jumping in and tearing his head off, Jess.”
She shook her head. “That won’t be necessary. But...thanks.”
When Randall blew a whistle, Eric let Ruger go. He crawled forward, gasping for breath. He’d left the knife behind, forgotten when Eric tried to kill him. Star helped him up and yelled for the medics. They both rushed to him, checking him over, but nothing was medically wrong. He just needed to catch his breath and rest.
Once he was okay, Randall called Jessa forward. Eric had a small red stain on his arm. It looked like blood, and if that was a special feature of this suit, Jessa was going to lose her shit. And then I’d lose mine.
She bent low, retrieving the knife and pushing the tip to make sure it did as they said. When the blade retracted, she smiled to me, mouthing the word plastic. Eric took his position across from her, obviously uncomfortable having to spar with a tiny woman. He looked to Randall, who just nodded and motioned him forward. Jessa grinned at Eric as Randall pointed his pistol to the sky. “Ready?”
The smile dropped from her face.
“GO!” Randall yelled as he pulled the trigger.
Jessa didn’t launch herself at Eric. The tables had been turned. She stalked him instead of the opposite, and Eric had the good sense to look nervous. She looked like a cat toying with a mouse, a mouse she was about to consume. I just didn’t know to what extent.
Chapter 25
Reality Check Magazine: How did you feel when Jessa faced Eric right after he’d beaten Ruger so badly?
Finn: Like I was going to light the world on fire to get her away from him. The only reason I didn’t was because of the look in her eyes.
When Eric finally jumped forward at her, Jessa crouched low, sweeping his feet out from under him. She began stabbing him in various places; each a precise kill shot. Crimson blossomed across his chest, abdomen, and both of his sides. She straddled him with the fake knife across his throat and bared her teeth like something wild, feral, deadly, dangerous.
She rose, threw the fake knife into the lake, and stormed off toward the cave.
“Jessa!” Randall called out.
I clapped his shoulder. “We won. Show’s over.”
Ruger and Star were shell shocked. Eric still lay on the ground, fake blood blooming across his suit. Randall just said, “Yeah. Yeah, you did. Congratulations.” His eyes and everyone else’s followed Jessa as she ran away.
What the hell just happened?
I jogged after her. They could ride off into the sunset with their gear and ATVs. I was worried, and had reason to be. Jessa was a mess behind the waterfall’s curtain of angry water. She clenched her fists and screamed, pacing the cave floor.
“What the hell was that out there?” I asked carefully, rushing to her and grabbing her upper arms. Tears streamed down her face as she twisted out of my hands. “Jessa? Talk to me.”
She wailed.
“Talk to me,” I said softer. “How’d you learn to do that?” I pointed outside, toward the beach. “That guy was an expert, yet you made him look like he’d never fought a day in his life. You – you made him look like a fool. How did you do that?”
She came at me, hitting my chest with her fists. “Get out!” she raged.
I was losing ground, heading toward the edge of the falls as the cameraman stepped into the room, lens aimed at us. “Just go. I need a few minutes, okay?” she said, calming herself.
“Yeah. I’ll go get firewood.”
“And the fish,” she added. “Don’t let them drive off with them.” She tried to smile, pushing me gently. “I’m okay.”
I nodded once, tearing my eyes away from hers as I left. If space was what she needed, I could give her that. It turned out that leaving her that day would be the second biggest mistake of my life. The first was trusting Jessa McDaniel.
JESSA
Chapter 26
Reality Check Magazine: You won against Eric and shredded his specially-made combat suit, but at the same time, it seemed like you lost something. What was it, Jessa?
Jessa McDaniel: I lost Finn.
I couldn’t keep my hands from shaking as the woman applied my make-up. “Close your eyes,” she said, pointing the airbrush machine at my face. The cool mist settled over my skin, making me look prettier than I really was. She brushed on blush, explaining to me how I should do it myself when I got home. But make-up was worthless. However, I nodded and smiled politely to appease her.
“Have you ever worn fake lashes?” she asked.
“No, but something tells me I’m about to.”
The woman smiled. “They’re life changing.”
I highly doubted that. Fringed pieces of fake hair couldn’t alter the course of one’s life. But a reunion with someone you’d hurt? Someone you grew to love and then betrayed? That was life changing. It could break hearts. Seeing as how mine was already splintered, it wouldn’t take much to make it crumble apart entirely. I had a feeling that seeing Finn again after so long would do the job.
My feelings for him never waned, not in the least. But his for me had no doubt changed. I didn’t know if I could bear to see it in his eyes. The producers of Mayday agreed to keep us as far apart as they could, but knowing Finn’s stubborn ass, he would want to confront me.
I just had to have an exit strategy.
Another one.
The woman in Wardrobe told me five times that I had to wear what the producers wanted. I knew that. It was part of our deal. “Fine.”
She stuffed me in panty hose, heels, and a low-cut blouse that draped over my breasts. Those were pushed up to my throat with a fancy bra. I wanted to strangle the lady with that bra.
“Your ears aren’t pierced?” she asked accusingly, pursing lips together that were painted the color of a deep bruise. The woman’s eyebrows were thick and dark, in stark contrast with her platinum hair. And she had the nerve to be disgusted by the lack of holes in my ears?
“Nope, and before you ask, I don’t want them pierced, either.”
She huffed as she strutted back to the jewelry counter and set the dangling earrings down, returning with a necklace made of small chains of varying sizes. They fell from my neck, the longest one settling between my breasts. Then she eased my hand into a dozen silver bangles.
“Your make-up looks pretty,” she complimented.
That was the nicest sentence she’d said to me yet. I wondered for the first time if she’d seen the show. If so, that would explain why she didn’t like me.
I didn’t like me, either.
It had been six months. I gained back every ounce I’d lost, even though the weight didn’t settle in quite the same places. I’d been living in North Carolina, near the beach. Sometimes, I’d sit in the sand and watch the sunset and think of him.
