All in the Game Read online

  “You noticed that, too?” Ty was casual.

  Reggie nodded. “We’re not the only ones to wonder. I logged onto the Internet last night, and there’s a debate going on as to why the twins auditioned to be on this show in the first place. Especially since Shannen looks eternally ticked off because she’s here.”

  “Remember their interview tapes? Both twins said they did it as a lark,” said Ty.

  He didn’t add that he wondered himself why the Cullen twins had auditioned for the show. The “for a lark” reason didn’t ring true to him. Nine years ago Shannen’s behavior had been quite purposeful. Filming her every day here on the island didn’t contradict his impression that she was a person who rarely made an unplanned move.

  But there had been nothing calculated about that hot kiss they’d shared last night. It had been as impetuous as it was passionate. Ty tried to tamp down his nascent arousal.

  “Maybe Lauren did it as a lark, but Shannen doesn’t strike me as the lark type.” Reggie chuckled. “If we’re talking birds, she’s more of a shrike. You know, the one that impales its prey on a stake. Oh, Ty, quick, pan over to Cortnee. She has her back to us and is touching her toes. Every red-blooded male in the audience is gonna love that. And she’s wearing that pink thong bikini that almost caused a meltdown on the Internet the first time she put it on.”

  “You can have the pleasure of filming her, Reg. I know you’re one of Cortnee’s top fans. I’ll keep my camera on the twins and Konrad. Looks like they’re going fishing.”

  Each carrying a primitive bamboo fishing pole, Shannen, Lauren and Konrad walked briskly into the ocean. Ty followed close behind, camera whirling.

  “Do you think we should go out in the rowboat?” asked Lauren as the surf broke around their knees. “We might have better luck catching fish in deeper water.”

  “Yeah, but then we’d have the fun of swimming with the sharks when that leaky old tub sinks,” growled Konrad. “Remember when those two idiots in the other tribe took the boat out and it went down like a stone with them in it? Had that big dramatic rescue ’cause they couldn’t swim. You know Slick Bobby and Clark Garrett woulda rather seen them drown. And now they claim the boat’s fixed, but I don’t buy it. They’re still hoping to get lucky with a fatal accident.”

  “That’s entertainment for those two human piranhas,” Shannen pointed out.

  “Never mind the boat, then, let’s try our luck right here,” suggested Lauren, casting her pole. “Oh, don’t look now, but we’re on camera again. I was sure the whole crew would stay on the beach filming Cortnee. Doesn’t she do her jumping jacks after touching her toes? None of the guys want to miss that.”

  “Gets old when you see the same stuff day after day.” Konrad shrugged. “Me, I’d rather hang out with you two, even though I don’t know which the hell is which.”

  “Konrad, how gallant!” Lauren smiled sweetly.

  Shannen turned her head to see Ty standing less than a foot behind them. She swung her fishing line at him, clipping him with the clam bait.

  “Oops.” She snickered. “So sorry.”

  “You’re only sorry that your aim was off.” Ty turned off the camera. “You meant to smack me in the face with the clam guts. But you missed, Shannen,” he added, saying her name with alacrity.

  “You’re sure I’m Shannen?” She looked ready to whip the pole at him again. “How do you know I’m not Lauren?”

  “Could be, you know,” Lauren chimed in. “We’re dressed exactly alike. Denim cutoffs, red bandanna triangle tops. The only difference is that one of us has a braid and the other has a ponytail. Can you be sure who styled her hair which way?”

  “You two play that twin stuff for all it’s worth,” said Konrad, with respect. “No wonder. Two people looking exactly the same…talk about messing with minds! If I had a twin in the lineup with me, nobody could ID me. Because it might be my twin, y’know? I could’ve beat the rap every time.”

  “We’ll keep that in mind if we decide to go in for a life of crime, Konrad,” said Shannen.

  “I don’t have a problem telling them apart.” Ty moved closer to Shannen. “This is Shannen. Unquestionably.”

  When she took a step backward, he advanced, knowing she would force herself not to retreat again. She would view that as a tactical error.

  He was right. She stayed put.

  “Remember the rules? The crew isn’t supposed to interact with us in any way.” Shannen’s fingers clenched the pole tightly, and she stayed as still as she could, despite the unsteadying waves rising and breaking around her. “You’re supposed to be invisible. So shut up and film, Tynan.”

  “Who’s to know I’m not? From on shore, it looks like I’m filming the three of you out here.”

  “How do you know his name, Shan?” Lauren was puzzled. “We weren’t introduced to any of the crew. Clark and Bobby said to think of them as part of the camera equipment and forget they’re human.”

  “Which isn’t hard to do, in his case,” Shannen sneered.

  “You dodged the question, babe.” Konrad studied her curiously. “How come you know his name?”

  “Maybe she made a good guess. Am I right, Shannen?” Ty’s bland tone contrasted sharply to his baiting smile.

  “As a matter of fact, you are. I read a book about names, and Tynan means ‘condescending, self-righteous jerk,’ so I immediately guessed he must be a Tynan.” Shannen met and held his gaze. “An obvious fit.”

  “If Cortnee was out here, she’d say, ‘What did the book say that Cortnee means?’” Konrad laughed.

  It was a startling moment. Shannen recovered first.

  “The first time Konrad laughs, and you aren’t filming, Tynan,” she scolded. “You’re not doing your job. I ought to tell Slick Bobby next time he oozes by so he can pass it on to Clark. Then you’ll get fired.”

  “But you won’t tell, will you, Shannen?” Ty leaned down to wash off the bits of clam that clung to his bare shoulder. Like the other cameramen, he rarely wore a shirt during the long days of filming in the sun. He was bronzed and muscular.

  Shannen quickly looked away from him, staring instead into the sparkling clear water.

  “How do you know my sister won’t tell on you?” demanded Lauren, her eyes darting from Shannen to Ty and back again.

  “Because I read the same name book that she did, and Shannen means ‘not a snitch,’” said Ty.

  “A bitch but not a snitch,” amended Konrad.

  Lauren stamped her foot. “My sister is not a bitch! You should apologize to Shannen right now, Konrad.”

  “He doesn’t have to, I’ve been called worse names than that.” Shannen stole a glance at Ty. When she found him staring at her, she looked away again. “It doesn’t bother me.”

  “I’m sure whoever called you…worse names, regrets doing so, Shannen,” Tynan said quietly.

  “I’m sure I don’t care, Tynan,” she retorted. “Sticks and stones and all that.”

  “Y’know, that’s just crap,” Konrad said vehemently. “Some of the names I got called as a kid made me a helluva lot madder than getting whacked with any stick. And in the joint, you better watch your mouth—you get what I’m saying? You diss somebody there and you’re dead meat. It’s worse than punching him out.”

  “That’s an interesting point.” Ty raised his camera. “Would you say that again when I turn the camera back on?”

  “Sure.” Konrad looked pleased. “Uh, should she say the bit about sticks and stones before I say it?”

  “Yeah, that’s good.” Ty nodded. “Shannen?”

  “I’m not saying anything,” Shannen said crossly. “You aren’t directing a movie, and we’re not supposed to rehearse our lines. Get out of here, Tynan. Go back and film Cortnee.”

  “Hey, I made an interesting point,” argued Konrad. “It should be on TV.”

  “I’ll give you a lead-in, Konrad,” Lauren volunteered. “Okay, Tynan, ‘Camera, action, take one,’ or however that drill
goes.” She tilted her head, her expression suddenly wistful. “Shannen, remember how the kids at school used to call us freaky clones? And Gramma told us to say, ‘Sticks and stones may break our bones but names will never hurt us.’”

  “Who called you freaky clones?” demanded Konrad. “Just tell me who and when I get back I’ll break every bone in their—”

  “Nobody ever called us that.” Shannen heaved an exasperated sigh. “It was just Lauren’s cue for you to say your—oh, turn off that camera, Ty. This is ridiculous.”

  Ty turned off the camera. “Makes you really respect directors, doesn’t it? Imagine doing take after take after take of the same botched scene.”

  “Acting is harder than I thought,” admitted Konrad. “Care to try it over again?”

  “No!” Tynan and the twins chorused.

  The four of them looked at each other and laughed. They immediately lapsed into silence, nonplussed by the unexpected moment of camaraderie.

  “I got a fish!” Lauren suddenly shrieked, hanging on to her bamboo pole, which was waving and twitching. “I bet it’s big, it’s really strong! Help!”

  Tynan turned on his camera to film Lauren clutching her fishing pole as it swayed precariously, back and forth and around. Konrad reached over and took hold of the string, swinging it out of the water. The fish on the primitively fashioned hook went flying into the air.

  “Get it! Get it!” cried Lauren.

  Konrad did, catching the impressive-size fish with his bare hands.

  “That was so quick!” marveled Shannen. “Like watching Gramma’s cat reach up and nab the bird who’d made the fatal mistake of flying onto the porch while he was napping there.”

  “Except we can eat the fish,” said Lauren. “That bird incident—yuck, it was so gross!”

  Ty’s lips quirked. He caught Shannen’s eye and found her looking at him. Both immediately turned their attention back to Konrad and the fish.

  “I think I’ll turn off the camera until that fish is officially pronounced dead,” said Ty.

  “Feeling queasy, Ty?” taunted Shannen. “You didn’t seem to have any qualms filming us drinking snake blood in that over-the-top victory contest a couple weeks ago.”

  “The snake blood scene was sexy in a vampire-ish sort of way, to quote a TV critic,” said Ty. “But nobody is going to find strangling a fish sexy in any sort of way.”

  “That’s disgusting!” scolded Shannen.

  Ty wondered if she was referring to him, snake blood or fish strangulation.

  “The fish is dead,” announced Konrad.

  Ty resumed filming.

  “This fish would make a decent-size meal for two people, maybe even three, but we’ll only have a few mouthfuls each if we split it six ways,” said Konrad. “So let’s not.”

  “It’s only fair to share it with everybody,” insisted Lauren.

  “We could outvote her.” Konrad turned to Shannen. “Two against one not to share.”

  “My stomach wants to go along with you, but my better instincts tell me that Lauren is right.” Shannen sighed.

  “Better instincts? More like idiotic instincts,” Konrad muttered, then added a few unintelligible growls as they trooped back to shore.

  Cortnee was so delighted to see the fish, she squealed with joy and hugged Konrad and the twins in turn.

  Rico and Jed tried to look happy but weren’t altogether convincing.

  “Their smiles are so fake, I’m surprised their faces haven’t cracked,” observed Shannen to no one in particular. “They want to be the heroes, but you can’t catch anything, lounging around on the beach all day.”

  “Told you it was stupid to share,” Konrad needled her.

  Ty noticed that Reggie had moved closer to film the group, and he turned off his own camera. “Shannen.” His voice was lower than a whisper, but Shannen heard.

  “Don’t talk to me,” she warned, her voice even quieter than his.

  It was a warning Ty didn’t heed. “Meet me tonight. Same time and place as last night.”

  “No!” She looked alarmed. “I can’t! I…I—” She was truly rattled.

  “Be there,” said Ty, and moved away from her.

  “Shannen, what’s wrong?” Lauren called out to her.

  Shannen looked up to see Reggie, a few feet away, filming her.

  Lauren was staring at her, confused. “You look—you don’t look happy, Shan.”

  “Maybe she’s jealous because she wasn’t the one to catch the fish,” mocked Jed.

  “Maybe I’m not happy because I expect you’ll try to grab yourself some glory and insist on cooking the fish yourself,” Shannen countered. “Thereby rendering it inedible.”

  Jed took instant umbrage. “I’m a damn good cook. I even contributed a recipe that I invented myself to the Living off the Land cookbook.”

  “What was it, how to barbecue roadkill?” Konrad snickered. “Step one, you pick it off the side of the road. Step two—”

  “It was how to make elk stew,” Jed inserted disdainfully. “And—”

  “Whatever,” snapped Cortnee. “Just don’t get anywhere near this fish!”

  “He’s only had a few cooking…mishaps here on the island.” Lauren tried to make peace.

  “You mean disasters, not mishaps,” corrected Rico.

  “I’ve never cooked a bad meal,” Jed said huffily. “You’re all just a bunch of picky eaters.”

  “Jed’s already proved that he doesn’t know the difference between cooking something or cremating it,” Shannen said flatly. “I vote that he not cook the fish.”

  “I’m with you, twin,” said Rico.

  “Me, too,” said Konrad.

  “You’ve got my vote,” said Cortnee.

  “Are we seeing cracks in what has previously been a staunch and solid alliance?” Bobby Dixon asked in his smiling, smooth soliloquy, filmed a mile down the beach.

  A light breeze ruffled his thick hair and he smoothed it down with his hand, dimpling deeply.

  “Tonight, after the victory contest, these six survivors, who have stuck together from the very beginning, will have to vote out one of their own.” His voice took on a note of urgency and suspense. “What shifts of allegiance will occur to form new alliances as we count down to five and then to the Final Four? Who has what it takes to be Victorious?”

  Later the six contestants gathered around the fire, eating the fish cooked by the twins.

  “That was great,” Rico said expansively, patting his washboard stomach. “If the food is as good at that diner your family owns, I’m heading there as soon as we’re off this island.”

  “Shannen and I have been short-order cooks since we were in junior high,” said Lauren. “Of course, it’s much easier at home, because we don’t have to catch the food ourselves.”

  “Well, no matter what you hear, the food in prison isn’t bad,” Konrad interjected. “And you get more of it than one lousy fish split six ways.”

  “I’m still hungry,” wailed Cortnee. “Having only a couple bites of fish and a blob of wretched rice is like being on a starvation diet.”

  “I cooked the rice and it wasn’t wretched, it was fine,” snarled Jed.

  “It really wasn’t wretched at all,” Lauren hastily agreed.

  “Uh-oh, look what’s headed our way.” Shannen was the first to spy Bobby Dixon strolling down the beach toward them, wearing his immaculately pressed khaki slacks and matching safari shirt.

  “He looks so neat and clean all the time, I can’t stand it.” Cortnee groaned. “It’s been how long since we had a hot shower? And washing your hair in the ocean is really bad. There’s a reason why saltwater shampoo was never invented.”

  “Wouldn’t it be thrilling to see Slick Bobby look less…dapper?” Shannen flashed a naughty smile. “It might even take my mind off being hungry out here all the time.”

  “Yeah, but it’ll never happen.” Rico heaved a disgruntled sigh. “We’ll stay hungry as long as we’re on
the island, and Bobby will stay clean. You just know he has his clothes cleaned and pressed every day over in the crew’s camp. And somehow he never sweats, no matter how hot it is.”

  “Makes you wonder if the guy’s human,” murmured Shannen. “I’ve had my doubts. Those dimples of his look like computer animation.”

  “I bet Slick B would sweat if we poured fish guts over him,” said Konrad, staring moodily into the bean can holding the fish remains. They’d saved the can from their first days on the island, to use as a container.

  “Anybody want to try it and see?” Rico asked eagerly. “Cortnee? Twins?”

  Shannen laughed. “You’re evil, Rico.”

  “Hello, all.” Bobby joined them, dimpling at the camera. “No mail-in-the-tree today. I brought the contest requirements to you in person.”

  “Watch out, Bobby. They’ve hatched this juvenile plan to drench you in fish guts,” Jed called out.

  Konrad scowled. “Anybody know what that stoolie is talking about?”

  The others shrugged and shook their heads.

  “I do know that Jed is a rat.” Cortnee sniffed. “And if he didn’t win every contest and get himself immunity, I’d gladly vote him off.”

  “You can dream, but it’s never going to happen, baby-cakes.” Jed positioned himself so his sculpted body had full camera advantage. “And keep in mind that we’re no longer a team anymore. Now it’s everyone for himself—or herself, as the case may be.”

  “Jed is right,” agreed Bobby. “It’s everyone for him-or herself, and the contest today is a rowboat race. All six of you will take turns rowing out to the crew’s boat and back.”

  He pointed to the large boat anchored about a hundred yards out in the sea. “The one with the fastest time, of course, wins immunity in the council vote tonight.”

  “Have I ever mentioned that I crewed in college?” Jed began his warmup exercises. “And kayaked down the Colorado River when the white water was at its highest and fastest?”