Page 5 of Body Games


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  It took me a half hour to find the well, and it was no more than a rain-barrel dug into the ground and covered with a cutesy island-motif top. The lid had BOIL ME FIRST carved into it. I wondered, if there wasn’t natural water on the island, how hard would it be to fill the barrel with drinking water instead of whatever this was? But I supposed boiling water was part of the Endurance Island challenge. Canteens filled, I slung them over my neck and started to look for a forked tree.

  I searched for two hours, both near the well and as far as I dared wander. No forked tree. Dismayed, I buried the clue below a tree with spidery roots and headed back to the beach. I was tired, sunburned, and hungry, and I’d need to do something about shelter if I planned on sleeping tonight. The canteens now full of water I couldn’t drink, I headed toward camp, hoping to be greeted by the smell of smoke from a nice fire.

  No such luck. When I returned, Kip was laid out on the beach, soaking up the sun and enjoying himself. Nothing had been done at camp.

  Gritting my teeth, I set to work. First, fire. Then, I could boil water. After that, I’d have to look for shelter of some kind. It was abundantly clear to me that one of us thought he was going to get by on charm alone. Come to think of it, he’d pulled the same stunt last time we’d played and I’d been too besotted to notice. Gullible, gullible Annabelle. Someday, you’d think I’d learn.

  So I gathered brush for tinder and dug a fire pit in the sand and lined it with rocks. I gathered wood. By the time I had a decent stack of firewood, the sun was going down and I was too tired to work on the fire itself. We had no flint, so I’d have to make a fire by rubbing sticks together - good ol’ friction. That required a lot more energy than I had at the moment.

  With the last of my strength, I went to the edge of the beach and picked up a coconut. They were everywhere, luckily, but I knew that they wouldn’t last. Still, it’d do for today. I’d gotten pretty good at cracking coconuts the last time I played, and I had it open with two well-placed swings. Coconut juice began to dribble onto the sand and I grabbed it and tipped it back to drink the sweet liquid.

  “Hey, you going to save some of that for me?” Kip asked.

  I paused in my drinking long enough to respond. “Nope.” And I tipped the coconut back to get even more of the juice.

  “Bitch.”

  I ignored him. I drank all of the coconut’s juice - and it was a full one - and then cracked it open to eat the meat. I ate as Kip picked a coconut for himself and then proceeded to nearly chop his hand off trying to open it. I watched him, thinking that I should probably help him.

  Instead, I ate another piece of coconut.

  When I was done eating, I got up, rinsed my sticky hands in the ocean water, grabbed some palm leaves that were lying on the ground, found the box top, curled up, and tried to sleep.

  My first night on Endurance Island. No shelter, no water, no fire, and no Pandora’s Box. Kip as a partner.

  Yep, things were going great.

  Chapter Six

  “Maybe I should have left her alone, but…I don’t know. I saw that, and my head just about exploded. What kind of asshole does that to someone? I had to fix it. So much for my ‘No More Nice Guy’ or even ‘No Impulsive Moves to Endanger Your Game’ strategies.” — Jendan Abercrombie, Day 3, Endurance Island: Power Players

  “We’ve been summoned,” Kip said, waving a bamboo card in the air. There was a red box tucked under his arm that I didn’t recognize.

  “What’s that?” I asked, throwing another log on the fire. Our canteens were dry and water needed to be boiled, and I couldn’t count on Kip to lift a finger around camp.

  “Tribal summons,” he told me, giving me a dismissive look, as if I were stupid for asking. “It says ‘Challenge today, don’t be last place. Don’t worry about speed, this isn’t a race. You’ll play for points, be the first team to three. You’ll avoid Judgment…at least for another three.’” Kip wrinkled his nose. “I think they rhymed three with three.”

  “A challenge? What kind of challenge do you suppose it is?” I forgot about the fire and got to my feet, wincing as I did. Every inch of my skin was covered with a deep red sunburn. It really, really sucked, and it was painful every time anything touched it. Sand, a stiff breeze, water, you name it, it hurt like the dickens. The only thing that made my misery somewhat bearable was that Kip was worse off than me. His buttocks and groin were a flaming red that seemed brighter every time I saw it and he moaned about it constantly.

  Which made him help me even less around camp, but my expectations were pretty much nil at this point.

  “I wish this was a reward challenge,” Kip said glumly. “For sunblock.”

  “Or shorts?”

  “Yeah, that would be good, too.” He studied me. “Your tits look like tomatoes.”

  Did the man think about anything other than my breasts? This wasn’t the first time I’d heard him comment on them, and it irritated me more each time. “Your dick looks like a peanut and your balls look like a pair of meatballs. Should we hit up any other food groups while we’re at it?”

  He looked shocked. “Not a banana?”

  “Definitely not a banana,” I said coolly, getting a tiny bit of pleasure at his scowl. Honestly, what had I ever seen in that man? I shook my head and pointed at my back. “Just grease pencil my name on me, will you? The boat’s going to be here soon to take us to the challenge.”

  I put my hands on my hips and stood as Kip wrote on my back, taking an excessively long time and swirling the pencil around on my skin. We’d been chastised by production yesterday for not writing names big enough and bold enough, so now we just wrote on each other’s backs. When Kip was done writing, he held the grease pencil out to me. I turned and obligingly wrote his name in big, bold letters across his back and then put the pencil back in the crate. In the distance, a boat motor roared. Since we were all stuck on different beaches, a boat would swing by to pick us up and take us to the challenge area. Kip and I headed toward the beach.

  “So how come you’re not as red as me on your snatch?”

  I ignored him. First of all, I didn’t want to talk about my ‘snatch’ with Kip, nor did I want to discuss it with a cameraman five feet away. More than that, I had a bit of a secret that I didn’t intend on sharing. I’d found a small aloe vera plant a short distance away from the water and I’d been giddily putting it on my most sensitive areas that were causing me the most pain.

  As in, my groin.

  There wasn’t enough to cover the rest of my body, so I was working on a solution — during the endless hours at camp, while Kip swam and whined about his sunburn, I stayed in the shade and worked on weaving fronds together. I’d made myself a rough mat and later I’d make a sun shade. Surprisingly, I wasn’t feeling weird about being naked anymore, so clothing was lower on the list than shelter.

  Still, I was actively trying to stay out of the sun. Kip was like a turkey in a rainstorm — too stupid to come in for his own safety.

  The boat pulled up into the water and someone waved us forward. I took off my sneakers and held them in my hand as we waded out to the boat and were helped in.

  “Got your canteens?” a production crew member asked us. “You’ll need them. Everyone needs to stay hydrated.”

  I patted my canteen, stuffed into one of my shoes. To my relief, Kip had remembered his as well. With our water supplies at hand, we were off to our first challenge.

  The breeze on the water was cool, a fine mist splashing my overheated skin. I tilted my head back and enjoyed it, not even caring that I was buck naked on a speedboat that carried five people - me, Kip, our cameraman, and two production crew. No matter how modest you were, when your entire body ached from sunburn, the last thing you wanted was to put a layer of clothing on it.

  One of Endurance Island’s rules was that there was no talking during transportation. If Kip and I wanted to talk to each other, we had to save it for when we landed. Not that this was a pr
oblem for me, of course. I enjoyed the silence and relaxed as we sped toward the challenge grounds.

  The boat dropped us off a short time later and Kip and I (and our cameraman) headed toward the challenge beach, shoes in hand. As we got there, everyone else was already lined up, and I took a moment to study the others as we walked.

  They looked just as rough as we did. Thank god for that. Everyone was striped bright red on portions of their skin. Everyone looked as exhausted and worn as I did, too. My guess was that they were sleeping about as well as we were, which meant not at all. It was hard to sleep when you were shivering and things kept crawling all over you. Oh, and no clothing. That didn’t help things.

  I felt uncomfortable as we walked up on the beach, all eyes on us. I thought of my bright red sunburned breasts, my flat butt, and my thighs that jiggled too much. Ugh. Being naked in front of strangers made you feel vulnerable in ways I’d never imagined.

  Still, I couldn’t help but gawk at the others. One woman had obviously fake breasts. One had a tattoo in an embarrassing location. One was cringing, her hands cupped over her small breasts. Kissy stood there, proud as could be, hands on hips, breasts sagging with age and her stomach lined from pregnancies. If she could do it, I determined, I could do it. I walked a little straighter at the sight of her.

  The men had looked uniformly strong and in shape while clothed (well, except Rusty). It was surprising to see all their flaws hanging out. Kip’s legs looked birdy next to Emilio’s strong thighs. One guy had balls that hung down low and uneven. One man was embarrassingly half-mast. I didn’t know if he was excited because of the upcoming challenge or all the naked bodies on the beach.

  And tall, dark, and gorgeous that I’d sat next to on day one? He was perfection, in a rather large, rather impressive package. I tried not to stare as we moved down the line, but Jesus. That Sunnie chick was lucky. I’d trade her partner for Kip any day.

  Cameras readied. I brushed the sand off of one foot at a time and put my shoes on. When I straightened, Chip was in place, his makeup so thick I could see it from where I stood. He checked his reflection in a hand-held mirror and then tucked it into his pocket, then studied us as we stood on the line. “How’s everyone handling their time on the island? Got fire? Shelter?” He turned to the two athletic women, who were as stunningly, disgustingly flab-free. “Summer?”

  “Shelter, but we’re struggling with fire,” she admitted, looking at her partner.

  “What about you, Jendan?” He turned to Hotness.

  Jendan. That was his name. I tasted it on my mouth, then shook my head at my own silliness. Not here to lust after guys. Not even if they were incredibly hot and incredibly, ahem, hung.

  “Same,” he said briefly, looking over at his partner. “We’re not used to roughing it on an island.”

  “Some of our contestants are, though. Let’s hear from a returning Endurance Island player,” Chip said, his gaze scanning down the line until it rested on our team. “Kip, how are things at your camp?”

  “They’re great, Chip,” Kip said easily. “Annabelle and I have things under control. Water. Shelter, you name it, we’ve got it.”

  I kept my mouth pressed shut, though I wanted to laugh hysterically at Kip’s answer. What was the point in bluffing? To pretend that we were strong? The moment we fumbled in the challenge like the others, they’d know the truth - we were just as exhausted and hungry as the others.

  Also, what was this ‘we’ crap? If there was any level of comfort around camp, it was because I’d been working my butt off while Kip lounged and moped about his sunburned dick.

  “Well, with that, let’s get to today’s challenge.” Chip clapped his hands together and rubbed them, as if anticipating an exciting show. “You’re going to be participating in footraces against each other. Teams will be randomly selected, and when I say go, both teams will head out into the swimming area.” He pointed at the beach behind him. “In the water are colored buoys. Under each buoy is a golden ring, tied to rope. There is only one ring and two teams competing for that ring. Your job is to find that ring and bring it back. If the other team has the ring, you need to get it from them. The first one to cross the finish line with the ring gets a point for their team. The last two teams to score three points will be nominated for Judgment.”

  I peered at the waves. Sure enough, there was a colored ball bobbing about halfway between the shore and the boats where the camera crews waited for the challenge.

  “Everyone understand the rules?” At our silence, Chip pointed. “Good. I don’t need to remind you about the physical rules of Endurance Island, then. No punching, hitting, kicking, drowning, eye-gouging, etc.”

  My eyes widened and I looked down the line. Last season, the challenges had been almost wimpy. We’d never had any sort of full-contact challenge. I was a little unnerved, considering I was one of the smaller, softer girls on the beach.

  “Ready to play? Then, Team Three versus Team Seven. You’re up.”

  Summer and Polly (their names written across their collarbones and shoulders) strode forward, high-fiving each other. Leslie and Emilio looked less certain as they moved forward, and I didn’t blame them. Summer and Polly were clearly in amazing shape. I sure didn’t want to go up against them. Both teams moved to the starting line and crouched, which gave those of us on the far end of the beach a display of four pairs of sun-reddened asses. Someone snickered.

  “Go!” Chip yelled.

  All four people raced forward, splashing into the challenge area. As I watched, Summer took an early lead, swimming out. Instead of chasing after her partner, Polly turned and tackled Emilio in the water, pushing him under. Leslie gave a bellow of anger, and instead of chasing after Summer, she tackled Polly, trying to pull her off of her partner. The three thrashed in the water, and as I watched, Summer easily swam out to the buoy, dove, came up with the Frisbee-sized ring, and began to splash her way back to shore. By the time Leslie realized that Polly was a distraction, it was too late. Summer was bounding onto shore, dripping wet, the ring held high.

  “That was beautiful,” Kip murmured. “Damn, she’s hot. Serious spank material.”

  Ugh. “Down, boy,” I told him. “You don’t want wood in the challenge.”

  “I’m fine,” he said, but then adjusted himself.

  I rolled my eyes.

  “Summer and Polly win,” Chip declared, raising both hands in the air. One point for their team.”

  As the two teams headed back to the lineup, someone took the golden ring from Summer and handed it off to a man in scuba gear, who disappeared under the water in the roped-off challenge portion of the beach. A few moments later, he resurfaced and gave a thumbs up. The challenge was prepped again.

  “Team Eight and Team Five.”

  Kip and I versus the male/male team of firefighters? I didn’t like these odds. We stepped toward the starting line and I leaned toward Kip, whispering. “You distract them and I’ll swim out, okay?”

  My partner was many things, but stupid at competitions wasn’t one of them. He nodded and hunched forward, readying himself.

  I leaned forward too…and a wave of titters broke from the group behind us. Were they laughing at my flat butt? Humiliation burned, but there was nothing to be done. I ignored it and concentrated on the water, waiting for the go.

  “Go!”

  I dashed for the water as fast as I could, Kip at my side. If we could get to the water before the firefighters, we’d have a chance. They were both twice my size; I’d never win against either in a wrestling match…and I didn’t particularly want to wrestle anyone while naked and sunburned.

  Even though we ran as fast as we could, we barely made it to the water a step ahead of the other team. I flung myself into the water, and when it was waist high, began to swim.

  A hand caught my ankle, dragging me down. I kicked hard, and was quickly released, but another body surged ahead of me. I surfaced, caught a breath, and clawed at the water. Now one of the fir
efighters was ahead of me, and I grabbed one of his kicking legs, giving him the same treatment he gave me. His foot connected with my stomach and I gagged and hung on as he splashed and flailed against me.

  Someone grabbed me from behind and dunked me, and again, I went under, water shooting up my nose. I struggled back to the surface, choking on salt-water and surrounded by clawing hands and feet. One hand accidentally touched my boob, and the firefighter - Saul? - gave an alarmed little shriek. “Sorry! Sorry!”

  “Grab her,” his partner said.

  “I’m trying not to touch her in bad places,” the other man said.

  If I didn’t have a lungful of water, I would have laughed at the dismay in his voice. Instead, I coughed and sputtered and continued to try and wrestle out of the grasp of both men as they tried to prevent me from heading toward the ring.

  Someone splashed past, and I watched Jerry pull away, trying to grab someone running away with the golden ring. Kip! Yes! I wrapped my arms around Jerry, trying to prevent him from catching Kip, and while I held the two burly firefighters in place, my partner sprinted toward the finish line.

  Chip raised his hands in the air. “Team eight wins a point!”

  I released Jerry, coughing. Saul helped me to my feet and gave me an awkward pat on the back. “Sorry about that, honey. I wasn’t trying to grab you. You’re the same age as my daughter.”

  “It’s okay,” I wheezed, and gave him a smile. “It’s all good.”

  Spitting water, I high-fived Kip - at least he was good for something - and put my hands on my knees, trying to catch my breath. My shoulders and back burned where I’d been grabbed by the others, but I was feeling strong. One point down.

  Kissy and Rusty were up next, against Sunnie and Jendan. I thought that Jendan and Sunnie would blow them out of the water, but it turned out that Sunnie wasn’t much of a competitor. She pranced into the water and when Jendan was tackled. Kissy grabbed Sunnie and pulled her under the water. She sprang up, coughing, and then flailed while Jendan tried to get out from Rusty’s clinging hands. The two rednecks won, and athletic Jendan looked annoyed while his partner tried to finger comb her hair into neatness.