At times the narration was about River himself, and Trip made him sound like some kind of modern-day Grizzly Adams, only without the beard, and those times were particularly irritating.
Although Trip didn’t seem like someone who could survive by himself in the wilderness, he was at ease wielding his machete when they whacked through a tangly stretch of the trail. He was skinny, but wiry, confident in his body.
The hike was uphill, and they stopped for a water break in a flat, sunny spot, sitting on a fallen tree free of moss. River felt the warmth of the sun absorbed by the tree’s smooth bark. His fully assembled Skym hovered overhead. Trip’s had broken apart, like segments of an orange, so five minicameras swarmed above them.
“Look at that,” Trip said, pointing to them.
“What?” River asked.
“They know we’re together, so your camera is getting a straight-ahead shot, and mine is getting the three-D shot.”
River took in the way the cameras surrounded him and Trip. “How do they do that?”
“They’re smart. Without anyone telling them, they talk to each other, figure out how to get the best content for the show.”
River nodded without really understanding. He was more comfortable with real, solid things. He trusted his hands to solve problems, and he didn’t like dealing with the misty abstractions of high tech. Sometimes he felt like he’d grown up in a different century.
“Impressive,” he said.
Trip let out a yelp when a spider the size of an acorn landed on his shoulder. He jumped from the log and slapped it away. River looked at him blankly until Trip shrugged.
“I hate spiders. Most bugs, really. God, why are there so many here?”
“There’s nothing wrong with spiders. They eat mosquitoes.”
Trip shuddered dramatically. “They’re tiny monsters. Too many legs.”
River shook his head. “They have eight. That’s how many they’re supposed to have.” He couldn’t understand Trip. Why come on a show like this if you jumped at everything that moved?
River foraged for mushrooms and edible greens as they hiked, without finding anything really substantial. He still felt the effects of his near drowning the day before. Everything remained a little askew, like he’d not gotten enough sleep.
Once they reached the top of the ridge, River took in the view. It revealed the wider area in a way that had remained hidden when down in the bay. He oriented himself and surveyed the south, which disclosed another bay beyond his own. Another mountain, higher than the one they were on, rose to the east, and to the north the land curled into the ocean. Nearby, just below them along the shore, what looked like an immense swarm of bees drifted up into the sky. He focused, shielding his eyes from the sun. It wasn’t bees. It was smoke, and a lot of it. Too much for a campfire.
“Trip.” River pointed down the side of the ridge.
Trip’s eyes widened. “Damn. That’s my camp.”
“Well.” River gauged the rising plume. “It’s on fire.”
Chapter 02
PROSPECTIVE CONTESTANT: CAMERON LOUISE JAIMES
AGE: 17 HEIGHT: 5'8"
EYES: BROWN HAIR: BROWN
STUDENT, SALINAS HIGH SCHOOL, SALINAS, CALIFORNIA
EMERGENCY CONTACTS:
PAMELA KINSELLA, AUNT, SOUTH WHEATON, CALIFORNIA
JUSTINE JAIMES, MOTHER (INCARCERATED, FRESNO STATE PENITENTIARY, AGGRAVATED ASSAULT WITH A DEADLY WEAPON)
SECOND-ROUND INTERVIEW (EXCERPTS)
INTERVIEW CONDUCTED BY SUPERVISING PRODUCER GREGORY HITCHENS
HITCHENS: So, Cameron, why do you want to be on Cut Off?
CAMERON: I go by Cam.
HITCHENS: Okay, Cam. Why do you want to be on Cut Off?
CAMERON: The money. What other reason is there?
HITCHENS: Not everybody is doing it for the money. For some it’s the challenge, or to find time alone, some space. A few want to be famous.
CAMERON: . . .
HITCHENS: What do you need the money for?
CAMERON: What does anyone need money for?
HITCHENS: Is it because of your mother?
CAMERON: Like I told that other guy, I’m not talking about my mother with you.
HITCHENS: Why not?
CAMERON: That’s none of your business. She’s none of your business.
HITCHENS: Cameron, when you signed on to participate in this process, you knew—
CAMERON: I go by Cam.
HITCHENS: Right. When you signed up, you knew we would ask you questions.
CAMERON: I signed up for a game show, not therapy. Thanks, though.
HITCHENS: This is more than a game. You can’t win or lose in the usual ways. It’s about who you are as a person.
CAMERON: Oh, come on. None of this is new—we’ve seen it a million times. Whether it’s singing or surviving or, I don’t know, dating. Whoever’s still standing at the end wins. Don’t pretend your show is any different.
HITCHENS: We think it’s quite different.
CAMERON: Okay.
HITCHENS: On your intake form, you sound very confident in your ability to win. How do you plan to do that?
CAMERON: Elimination. Make the other contestants tap out.
HITCHENS: This isn’t the Hunger Games, Camer—I mean Cam. What if you need help from another contestant and have to seek them out? What if you need someone?
CAMERON: I don’t need anyone.
HITCHENS: Do you feel that way because your mother was never there for you?
CAMERON: . . .
HITCHENS: It’s a simple question.
CAMERON: She was there for me.
HITCHENS: Really? Because it says here that she has two drug convictions. That three years ago you were living with her in a car. And now, well. It’s hard to say she’s there for you, given where she is. Are you trying to tell me that’s good parenting? Do you think it might be why you have trust issues?
CAMERON: . . .
HITCHENS: And what about Ben? Are you worried about him?
CAMERON: . . .
HITCHENS: Cameron?
CAMERON: You totally cheat on your wife, don’t you?
HITCHENS: Excuse me?
CAMERON: With that assistant, I’m guessing. The one who brought you the coffee.
HITCHENS: Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not—
CAMERON: It’s embarrassing how obvious it is, Greg. Aren’t there rules about things like that? Sleeping with someone who works for you? I mean, you could probably get fired, right?
HITCHENS: You can’t . . . you don’t know what you’re talking about.
CAMERON: You just seem like that kind of guy. Your face is turning red, so I must not be completely off base. What, you don’t like anyone making assumptions about your life?
HITCHENS: You think it’s that easy to figure people out?
CAMERON: It’s not hard. Think your boss would like to know how—
END RECORDING
EVALUATION:
Ms. Jaimes is hostile, aggressive, and clearly has emotional issues. In short, she does not play well with others. She would be a danger to herself and to those around her.
Recommendation: Hard pass.
—G. Hitchens
The campsite Cam was scouting had been set up by the computer guy, the famous one named Trip. Reaching it required a steep hike from the base of the mountain, and she’d left later than planned, only arriving by mid-afternoon, when the sun was already sinking in the sky. Whatever lean-to she could build in the short time before dark would be barely adequate, but it’d be worth it if she could get rid of Trip. There was little chance he’d last longer than her, considering what she remembered from the gossip sites and news stories about him. He was the kind of guy whose disheveled hair took an hour to get perfect. Wilderness wouldn’t suit him. That he was even on the show could only mean one of two things: He wanted to use it as a platform to market his app, which he hardly needed to do because it had been the hottest thing on the internet for months. Or he wanted to be not just a famous tech kid but a legit TV celebrity, and his agent couldn’t get him on a reality show where all he had to do was learn to cook or shack up with a bunch of other celebrity wannabes.