The Last One(31)

“That’s like two extra miles,” says Exorcist. “I’m out. See you at the finish.” He takes a quick measurement with his compass, then starts walking east. There’s a trio of boulders a quarter mile away. He’ll find those and then turn north toward a pair of cliff faces, he decides. It seems so easy. That’s why they’re doing it at night, he thinks—to add an element of actual challenge.

The map, now shown to viewers in a darker shade to indicate night. Dots of color and pattern creeping along: a cluster, a pair, and two singletons.

“What do you think happened to Cooper and the others?” asks Zoo.

“Maybe they left already?” says Engineer.

“Or got a ride,” says Waitress.

“Does it matter?” asks Carpenter Chick.

Their maps are tucked into pockets, and they pick their way through tangled brush. Zoo consults her compass every few minutes.

“They’re following us,” says Engineer. The others look back, see two beams of light behind their cameramen, who have multiplied. One per contestant for this Challenge, in case they split up.

“We need to get the Chinese kid on our team next time,” says Air Force. “Secure the fishing line, get some protein.”

“I’d gladly trade Josh or Randy for him,” says Black Doctor. “Or both.”

Cheerleader Boy crashes through the trees. His pink dot is wildly off course—he hasn’t checked his compass since leaving the field. He rubs at his burning eyes, then keeps walking, flashlight aimed at the ground. His cameraman pauses a moment. To rest, Cheerleader Boy thinks; the cameraman is carrying so much equipment, he must need to rest. He pauses too, and slaps at a late-night mosquito. Though he will not admit as much, the cameraman’s presence gave him the courage to head off into the woods alone. It’s only pretend alone, he thinks.

But the cameraman didn’t pause to rest. He paused for a discreet close-up, which viewers will be treated to now: Cheerleader Boy’s pink-dotted compass lying in the leaves. Motion ejected it from his shallow jacket pocket. He should have put it around his neck or wrist. Too late now.

Zoo’s team finds the road: a scraggly, unpaved path rich with recent tire tracks. “So, we follow this east for a couple miles then turn north,” says Zoo. “There’s a bridge about halfway there, that should be obvious. After that…” She’s looking at the map, considering.

Engineer steps up. He’s never used a map quite like this, but is familiar with schematics. “It looks like the best place to turn is about equidistant between this tree cluster and the end of this ditch,” he says.

“Perfect,” says Zoo. “So after we cross the bridge, we’ll watch for the…third ditch, then halfway between that and”—she laughs lightly—“some trees, we’ll turn north.”

“Some trees,” repeats Waitress.

“We’ll figure it out when we get there,” Carpenter Chick assures her.

A couple miles away, Cheerleader Boy walks through a spiderweb, swats at his face, and drops his flashlight. He wipes away the webbing, muttering curses that will be mostly censored, then bends to retrieve the flashlight. “This is ridiculous,” he says. “I’ve gone like ten miles, I should be at the stream by now.” He’s gone less than a mile. He’s nowhere near the stream, but he is close to learning just how alone a man can be with only a mute observer at his side.

Exorcist, conversely, is making good time. He’s at the base of the short cliff face Biology visited hours earlier, but he’s correctly identified it as the more southerly of two. The northern cliff is his next goal. He checks his compass and proceeds, nimble in the dark.

Air Force and Black Doctor reach the road. They can see Zoo’s group ahead. Air Force’s ankle is sore but stable. He’s still using the walking stick.

Time compresses: Hiking boots clonk over a wooden one-lane bridge, Exorcist whistles a familiar tune, Cheerleader Boy stumbles over a rotting log.

“This must be the ditch,” says Engineer. “The tree cluster should be about a hundred feet ahead.” Zoo takes Waitress with her to scout. The cluster is easy to identify, a group of seven deciduous trees standing together at the side of the road, an expanse of grass separating them from the larger forest.

“Found it!” Zoo calls. The teammates converge on the midpoint and then strike north. A straight shot. They consult their compasses often, and when an obstacle—brush too thick to cross, the occasional boulder—presents itself, they stagger their advance to maintain the proper direction of travel.

The host is waiting for them on the porch, seated on a swinging bench. He waves.

Black Doctor and Air Force’s exit strategy is different. “If we go north from this ditch, to this wall here, from there it’s almost directly northeast to the waypoint,” says Air Force.

Far ahead, Exorcist steps into the clearing before the cabin. He’s earned the final bunk. Biology shushes his stomping entrance from her bunk and turns to face the wall.

The host greets Air Force and Black Doctor next, with a pitying “Hello” as he steps to block the cabin’s door. “I’m afraid our bunks are full,” he says, and he points to a ratty lean-to about thirty feet away. The floor is lined with sawdust and one corner of the roof has collapsed.

“At least it’s not raining,” says Black Doctor.