Survivalist Reality Show: The Complete Series Page 6

  He nodded. “Fine. Let’s get back to the others and get ready to move out. I want to make sure everyone’s bags are an appropriate weight. Too heavy and they’re going to slow them down.”

  “We need the stuff. They’ll have to suck it up. It isn’t like we have a lot of gear after those jerks took everything,” she grumbled.

  “Twenty pounds is more than I want anyone carrying.”

  Regan shimmied a little, moving her own pack around on her back. “I don’t have twenty pounds on my back.”

  “Good, then if someone else does, we redistribute some to you.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Fine. But can we please hurry up and do this?”

  He smiled. “Yes. Can I test your pack?”

  Regan bit back a snide remark, but slid the pack from her shoulders and handed it over.

  He bounced it up and down, raising an eyebrow at her as he did. “This is more than twenty pounds. Closer to thirty.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “No way.”

  “Trust me, it is. That water alone is a pound per bottle. You have three. Add in the pack itself and the other stuff you have in here, and it’s going to weigh you down. A couple hours and you’re going to be feeling the strain.”

  “I can do it,” Regan hissed, pulling her pack back from his grip and slipping it back over her shoulders.

  They walked back onto the set together. When Tabitha saw Regan, she smiled.

  “Thank you,” she said, walking up to greet her.

  “For what?” Regan asked.

  “For staying with us. I would have been worried sick about you out there all on your own.”

  Regan shrugged uncomfortably. “I hope I’m making the right decision.”

  “You are,” Wolf said firmly.

  She looked away, thinking he was probably right.

  6

  Predictably, it took about two seconds before she felt she’d actually made a mistake in returning to the group.

  “Everyone, I know we’re all anxious to get out of here, but I want to make sure our packs are light enough. We need to do what we can to distribute the weight evenly. This isn’t sexist,” he added, looking directly at Regan and Tabitha, “but it is a fact that the men will be able to carry more.”

  He held up a hand when both women started to protest.

  “Everyone is going to be packing gear,” he cut them off. “Dump your bags and let’s make sure we aren’t setting someone up for failure by having them carry a pack that’s too heavy and will hinder their ability to navigate the swamp. The branches hanging down and reaching in from the side are going to snag, as most of you already know. I don’t want to risk someone being thrown off balance and injuring themselves with a pack that’s too heavy when that happens. Same thing for the slippery mud we’re going to be walking through for the majority of our trek out. If your pack is too heavy, your weight isn’t going to be properly distributed and you’re going to fall, risking injury,” he explained. There was so much authority in his tone that Regan and Tabitha accepted his reasoning without further argument.

  With a long sigh, Regan emptied her pack into a small pile, right along with everyone else. The hammock she had brought in as her only tool had become community property. It shouldn’t have been a big deal, but it was hers. It was the one thing she had of her own, along with the knife she had won during their first week. This whole community supplies thing wasn’t the way she did things. She had given up the idea of having a knife or fire-starter in the beginning, unlike some of the other contestants, specifically so that she could have this hammock. She had been banking on others bringing in knives and fire-starters. That had been her strategy from the get-go—using other people to help her be successful. Her thought had been that her partner would have one of those items. The hammock could provide what she needed to make a fishing net, set traps for food, or use in building a shelter. The others had all scoffed at her when she’d pulled out the hammock that first day. Now, it felt like they all wanted it.

  She shot a glare around the circle at the people she was going to be spending the next several days with. They were rummaging and sorting through the supplies like scavengers. Every time one of them touched her hammock or knife, she cringed.

  Regan wanted to protest, but stopped when she caught Wolf looking at her. He knew she had been stashing supplies even if the others didn’t from seeing the cordage and the map. It wasn’t like she would have kept essential supplies from someone who was in need. She was willing to share. That wasn’t the issue.

  “Everyone put the basics in your pack, in case you get separated,” Wolf ordered.

  “What are the basics?” Tabitha asked. “I mean, what do we absolutely need to have in our individual packs?”

  Wolf held up three fingers. “Shelter, fire, water. That’s what I need you to focus on, should you get separated from the group. Shelter—you have to have shelter if it rains or the temperatures drop. I don’t see that happening, but you prepare for anything.”

  “Wouldn’t fire be the most important?” Geno asked.

  Wolf looked at him. “If it’s raining, what’s going to happen to your fire?”

  Geno nodded his head. “Got it.”

  “And the fire purifies our water,” Tabitha added.

  “Yes. Shelter first. I don’t think we’re going to have dangerous weather, but the temperatures can drop low enough that hypothermia could be a problem if you’re soaked. Plus, what have I been telling you about your feet?”

  “Keep them dry,” Fred stated as if he were the smartest of them all, earning a look of annoyance from Regan.

  “Right. Unfortunately, in this environment, you’re going to have wet feet. We know that. When you stop moving for the night, you need that fire to dry your feet and your socks. Blistered, raw, bleeding feet are no joke. You have to take care of your feet,” the man stressed once again.

  Regan had never been so self-conscious of her feet before she’d shown up for the show. She got it. She did not want raw feet and had worked hard over the past two weeks to keep them in good shape. It wasn’t easy when they were constantly submerged, either, but at least she’d found a dry pair of socks while scavenging through the supplies that had been left behind—that was something, and she pulled them into her pack right away, as the others were picking up their own bits of spare clothing.

  “I’ll start divvying stuff up,” Geno said once that was done, haphazardly tossing stuff into various piles.

  “I’ll do that,” Regan said, dropping to her knees and carefully yet forcefully taking the hammock out of his hands even as he picked it up.

  She flashed him a glare when it looked like he’d protest.

  “I’ll take the hammock. It’s extra weight you don’t need,” he said, grabbing up the hammock she had set down next to her.

  In picking it up, he pulled it across a small, jagged rock that had been lying on the ground, tearing its netting.

  “Dammit!” she cried out, pushing his hand away so that it dropped to the ground again. “Why would you do that?” she shrieked.

  He pulled his hand back as if she had bit it. Regan knew she was overreacting, but it felt like a big deal.

  “Sorry,” he muttered.

  She shook her head, looking at the tear in the hammock. It wasn’t exactly devastating. It was the carelessness that made her mad.

  “Just leave it alone,” she grumbled, dropping the damaged hammock to the ground.

  Tabitha was looking at Regan now, as if to read her mind. Regan glared back, shrugged a shoulder, and then rose suddenly and spun around to head off to the area outside the set, needing to clear her head. She didn’t want Tabitha’s understanding now. She wanted space. Tensions were high. Wolf and Fred had been working on testing flashlights and were now staring at her, too, and Regan could feel her cheeks getting hot with embarrassment as a result. She’d overreacted, and she knew it.

  The outburst was unlike her. She wasn’t prone to high drama. She had nea
rly taken Geno’s head off. If she was going to spend a lot of time with these people, she needed a few minutes to cool off. This was why she hated groups. Too many people with too many feelings that could be hurt. Some days, it was hard enough being responsible for herself, she wasn’t prepared to be part of a team. Not now, maybe not ever.

  Heading away from the set, Regan spotted a small clearing and walked toward it, not worrying about anyone sneaking up on her.

  She reached for a heavy strand of dried moss, thinking to add it to their tinder bundle supplies, and heard footsteps behind her. She wasn’t worried it was anyone poised to attack her. It was someone from the group. Of course it was. That was the whole group thing. You weren’t alone. They were always there.

  “You okay?” Tabitha asked from behind her.

  “I’m fine,” Regan replied.

  “He didn’t mean to damage the hammock,” Tabitha said, defending her husband.

  Regan shrugged again, but didn’t look at the other woman, focusing instead on looking around for more moss. “I’m sure he didn’t. But he could have been more careful.”

  When she turned to look at Tabitha again, she saw her new almost-friend smiling. “You’re right.”

  Regan immediately felt disarmed by the smile. It was hard to be mad when someone was smiling and being nice.

  “What are you doing here?” Regan asked, wanting to change the subject. Pointedly, she jutted her chin back in the direction of the camp, which wasn’t even visible through the trees at this distance.

  “I figured I’d better grab a few more plants to add to the medical kit. I saw some pond apples down here on the first day. I’m going to grab some of the fruit, in case someone ends up with dysentery,” she said, plucking some small yellow fruit from one of the trees.

  “I thought we weren’t supposed to eat those,” Regan said, looking at her warily.

  Tabitha smiled. “If the fruit is ripe, you could, although you probably wouldn’t want to. Never touch or eat the seeds. If one of us gets dysentery, I can boil some of the fruit in water and make a syrup to use as a treatment.”

  Regan watched her pluck several of the pond apples up and hoped she never had to drink the syrup. It didn’t sound appetizing.

  They worked in silence for a few minutes until Regan heard Tabitha gasp. She spun around, ready to fight off an attacker. But Tabitha was grinning.

  “I wasn’t sure if this was really it, but I’m ninety-nine percent sure it is,” she said, holding up a few leaves from one of the many plants growing wild around them.

  “It’s what?” Regan asked.

  “This is going to keep the mosquitoes off us!” Tabitha exclaimed happily, plucking leaves and adding them to the small bag she was wearing across her chest.

  “Is that one of the natural pest repellant plants Wolf told us about?”

  Tabitha nodded. “Yep. One of the many. This is the White Alling. We can also use the leaves to make a tea to help clear up any skin irritations we’re prone to get out here.”

  “Where did you learn about all these plants?” Regan asked, leaning back on a tree to observe Tabitha’s scavenging.

  Tabitha walked to another plant and began plucking leaves. “I did my EMT training and then, as a paramedic, I realized how much we depended on gadgets and medicine in the field to save people. My old partner and I got to talking about how ineffective we would be at our jobs if we didn’t have an ambulance full of drugs. As it turned out, his grandmother was a Native American shaman. He knew a lot about herbal remedies and had all these crazy stories about how his grandma used plants to treat the family whenever they got sick.”

  “Really? And it worked?”

  She nodded. “Rick told me he’d never been to a traditional doctor except the one time he broke his arm. He had to be in his early fifties, too. Anyway, he introduced me to her and she took me under her wing, showing me all kinds of remedies.”

  “I find it strange that you or Rick would be interested in natural medicine when you were both paramedics relying on modern medicine,” Regan replied wryly.

  Tabitha giggled. “Well, if they would have let us stock our rigs with those plants and herbal remedies, I think we both would have.”

  Regan laughed at the idea. “That would be very interesting. Can you imagine the looks on your patients’ faces when you opened a drawer filled with leaves and seeds?”

  Both women laughed at the idea before finishing up the tasks they had set out to do.

  “Did you know that almost all the varieties of mangrove can be used to treat dysentery and or diarrhea?” Tabitha asked as they began their walk back to the set.

  “No, I didn’t. That’s a good thing, considering they grow everywhere.”

  “It’s weird to think these plants and trees provided all the medicine the native people needed for centuries. I’ve been picking Wolf’s brain about what he knows too. There’s so much available to us from the natural world. Considering our ancestors survived without modern medicine, it obviously worked,” Tabitha mused aloud.

  Regan smiled, feeling better about her choice to stay as they got closer to camp.

  “Thank you, seriously,” Tabitha murmured.

  “For what?”

  “Coming back. Staying. I didn’t want to be the only girl,” she added with another slight chuckle. “I know it’s not your style, but I’m glad to have you. You are a real kickass woman and I want you on my side.”

  Regan scoffed. “I’m not much bigger than you.”

  “You’re scrappy,” she said, laughing. “I seriously think you could take Geno if you wanted to.”

  “Yeah, right. He has to outweigh me by a hundred pounds.”

  “But you’re light on your feet. You remind me of a cooler Lara Croft, with short hair.”

  Regan laughed at the comparison, and felt herself blushing. “Well, good. That’s the look I was going for.”

  When they returned to the set, the men were finishing packing their own packs. Regan spotted two piles and assumed they were for her and Tabitha.

  “Did you find anything good?” Geno asked his wife.

  She nodded. “Yes. With these supplies and what I already have, I think we’ll be okay. I can treat the basics between the plants and the first aid kits. Although, I’d prefer it if none of you got hurt or sick,” she added pointedly, taking a glance around at all of them for good measure. “No drinking water without purifying it.”

  Everyone nodded. Nobody wanted dysentery or any of the other various illnesses they could pick up from drinking the swamp water. It was another thing that had been drilled into their heads from the beginning—the water was more dangerous than anything else in the swamp environment, whether fresh or brackish.

  “Are you adding anything?” Regan asked Wolf, realizing he hadn’t emptied his pack when the rest of them had.

  “I’ll be carrying what I have. Just the basics. I have a solar-powered flashlight, which is about the only thing special I have.”

  Regan nodded. “That seems pretty special to me. None of us have working flashlights.”

  He shrugged. “I already ditched the extra batteries I had for my mini Maglite. It was fried.”

  “Fried?”

  “The EMP. It seems to be hit and miss with what was shorted out and what wasn’t. I tried the spare flashlights that were here at the set and none of them are working,” he explained.

  “Oh,” Regan breathed out, struck again by how crazy this situation was. “I didn’t realize an EMP could do that.”

  Fred stepped forward, always ready to inject his scientific knowledge. “The flashlights may have been okay had they not had batteries in them. There have been tests and studies on the effects of an EMP, but there have never been any certainties. Now, we know for sure,” he said, sounding almost excited about it.

  “Good to know,” she said sarcastically, bending down to focus on her pack. “Everything the government thought they knew about an EMP is wrong, which means any protectio
ns they put into place are essentially null and void. Awesome.”

  “This is going to be a learning experience for us all,” Wolf said in his deep voice. “Each of us has valuable skills that will contribute to the group as a whole. Don’t be afraid to speak up if you see or feel something isn’t right. We’re going to make it because we all have different ideas and opinions, even if one or all of us doesn’t agree.”

  Regan fought down embarrassment. He might as well have pointed to her while he spoke.

  “I’m ready to get out of here,” Geno interjected, and for the first time, Regan agreed with him.

  Everyone finished gathering their supplies. Regan couldn’t help but feel as if they were setting out on a dangerous mission. Earlier, all she’d been able to think about was getting out of the swamp. Now, she was hesitant. The set felt safe. Out there, it was the unknown, even though they’d been in the swamp for two weeks. It felt different, almost scary, not knowing what they were going to be returning to.

  “It’ll be okay,” Tabitha assured her before stepping in next to her husband and grabbing his hand.

  With that said, they fell into a line, with Wolf leading the way. He was carrying a long stick and using it to poke and prod ahead of him as they moved. Regan walked directly behind him, followed by Fred, with Geno and Tabitha bringing up the rear.

  Wolf turned to look back at her. “Good?”

  She nodded. “Good.”

  He grinned. “Glad to have you with me. I mean, us. I think you’ll be better off.”

  She shrugged. “I better be, or I’m holding you responsible.”

  He chuckled and turned back around to lead the way.

  Regan enjoyed the banter between them. It was one of the few normal things they had in the swamp. She could appreciate his wit and sense of humor, even when he was being a bossy know-it-all. She firmly believed in observing people and learning from them. She liked to think of herself as a sponge in many ways. It was how she had learned to live on the streets. She’d watched and learned how others managed to stay alive, whether that meant covering herself with cardboard to stay warm or finding the perfect abandoned building to take refuge in. For many of the homeless on the street, it was all about blending in with their surroundings, so that they didn’t call attention to themselves or the authorities. And Regan had been good at it.