The Last One(38)

Rancher, Air Force, and Engineer are doing well. Almost as well as Tracker. If not for Zoo’s advantage, this would be a race.

“Time!”

Waitress and Banker have barely any water in their measuring cups. Exorcist is a third of a cup shy. All three are disqualified. Of the remaining eight, there is an obvious winner. Zoo’s water is not crystal clear, but it’s far less yellow than the rest. Biology’s cup looks like she dipped it straight into the dirty bucket.

“Congratulations,” says the host to Zoo. “As your reward, you get to assign teams for our next Challenge. Partners, but with one team of three due to the…oddness of the group.” The producers don’t like this; he’ll have to re-record the line later, sans pun.

“Do I get to know anything about the Challenge before I choose?” asks Zoo.

“No. Who do you want as your partner?”

Engineer is trying not to smile; it’ll be him. It has to be him—they caught a fish together.

Zoo doesn’t hesitate before naming Tracker. Engineer is quietly devastated. Zoo pairs him with Carpenter Chick, thinking that they will work well together. Her next move splits the young alliance as she pairs Air Force with Biology and Black Doctor with Banker. That leaves Rancher, Waitress, and Exorcist as the team of three.

The host motions for everyone to follow him. He leads them west, in the direction of yesterday’s field. The trek that follows will be glossed over—they’ve arrived! They’re at the southern cliff, the one visited by both Biology and Exorcist during last night’s Challenge. A salmon-colored rope now dangles from the top of the cliff, where it’s anchored to two tree trunks and a small sunken boulder.

Banker is smiling. “Nice,” he says. At Black Doctor’s curious look he adds, “We got this.”

“No way,” says Waitress. The editor decides to make this her catchphrase. “No way. I hate heights.”

Exorcist gives her a condescending look. “It’s only like thirty feet.”

Rancher considers the cliff face, the rope. “We have to climb that?” he asks. It’s unclear who’s more frightened—him or Waitress.

The host steps forward to stand at the base of the cliff. He tugs on the dangling ends of the rope with one hand. “Rock climbing,” he says. “It may not be an essential skill for wilderness survival, but it can get you out of a bind. Plus”—he flashes a white-picket smile—“it’s fun. The first part of this Challenge is to get one member of your team to the top as quickly as you can. Your finishing time will determine the order in which you set off on the next phase.” He turns to Zoo. “Who’s first?”

Zoo didn’t hear Banker’s confident remark to his partner and wonders if anyone here is a climber. She’s gone a few times with friends to indoor climbing gyms, but has never climbed outdoors. After a moment, she names Biology and Air Force to start.

“Have you climbed before?” Air Force asks his partner.

Biology shakes her head.

“Who’s ascending?” asks the host.

“I am,” says Air Force.

Time skips. Air Force and Biology both wear helmets and harnesses. All the contestants have received an off-camera lesson in how to take up a rope’s slack as a climber climbs—Banker scoffs at the equipment, “Anyone can belay with a grigri,” but he helps Black Doctor when he gets confused—and a guide who will never appear on camera positions himself behind Biology to serve as her backup. Air Force is tied in, and the belay device is clipped to Biology’s harness. The leg loops of the harness frame her rump, lifting both cheeks, and the waist is tight only a few inches below her breasts, like an underline. The camera lingers, shameless.

“I’ve climbed wooden walls, but never a rock wall,” says Air Force. His short hair is oily and his skin shimmers with sweat. There’s a smear of dirt down his neck from where he scratched at a mosquito bite. He and Black Doctor are the only two who weren’t able to shower since the overnight Challenge. “We’ll see how it goes.” He pauses. “My ankle? It feels better. It’ll be fine.”

“And go!” says the host.

Air Force doesn’t have enough experience to race up the cliff face, and he knows this. He considers where to start. Any climbers watching will know what Banker already knows: This route is a 5.5—an easy 5.6, tops—a slab with juggy holds. This Challenge is more mental than physical.

Air Force touches the rock above his head, then steps onto a knee-high ridge. He’s off the ground. Biology yanks the rope’s slack through the belay device. She’s tense; she truly believes she has another’s life in her hands. Behind her, the guide keeps a brake hand on the rope. Air Force begins to move upward, clenching the rock and keeping his body close. He’s relying too much on his arms; soon his forearms are pumped and his fingers ache. He’s halfway up. He pauses with his cheek pressed to the cool rock face and looks down. The view doesn’t affect him; he’s out of his comfort zone, but steady. He shakes out his hands, one after the other, then creeps his fingers up to the next hold.

Five minutes and four seconds into the Challenge he swats the white-tape X at the top of the cliff with his gritty palm. Biology yanks out any last inch of slack, then Air Force sits back and lets go of the wall. Biology releases the brake and her partner walks his way back down the cliff face. She doesn’t breathe until he reaches the ground.