Free New Year Island by Paul Draker Page B

odd choice for a reality-show contestant.
    “Natalie, you watch a lot of these shows,” Veronica said.
    Natalie dropped into her seat and hunched forward, holding the soft drink can between her hands. The sleeves of her gray hoodie covered her palms so that only her fingers showed. She looked down at the can and rolled it back and forth, not answering at first. Being the center of attention seemed to make her uncomfortable. Camilla watched her with curiosity. Her bangs were long, covering her forehead and eyebrows. She was probably twenty but looked younger, with a cute but oddly expressionless face. Finally she spoke.
    “Older ones mostly, I guess. Survivor, Amazing Race, Apprentice, Big Brother, The Bachelor… Hell’s Kitchen. The newer ones aren’t as good.”
    “Right,” Veronica said. “Did they ever do anything like this?”
    Natalie shook her head. “No. People applied to them first, wanting to be contestants.”
    Veronica looked at the video monitor again. “Well, for this one, it looks like they just pulled whoever off the street. Incredible waste of time.”
    That’s not quite what they did with us , Camilla wanted to disagree. But then again, how had they chosen the ten people now in the room? She looked around, trying to find something that connected them all: Mason, a banker; Lauren, who, it turned out, was a world-class rock climber; JT, an ex-Marine who owned a gym now; Travis, a truck mechanic; Brent, a doctor; Veronica, the director of a women’s shelter; Natalie, an art student; Juan, a dive-boat captain; Jordan, a… What was it she did for a living? Fashion model, maybe? And Camilla herself, an associate producer of animated films.
    Her own not-so-secret skill was getting groups of talented artists to set aside their individual egos and work together to make magic. She was good at it. Her teams achieved the kind of success that had won dozens of industry awards for their films. But how did her “specific skills and other qualifications” fit in with the others?
    On the surface, the ten contestants had almost nothing in common. But Camilla was picking up something about them all. A similarity—something she found unusual for any group of ten strangers, particularly in a competitive situation. There was no loud, ego-driven grandstanding going on, no insecure posturing and jockeying for position. No idle nervous chatter, despite the strangeness of their circumstances. Instead, throughout the room she could see a general sense of confidence, a calm air of readiness. A quiet alertness, quick glances that missed very little. Familiar behaviors. She felt an odd ripple of anxiety—almost fear.
    What exactly was going on here?

CHAPTER 15
    J uan watched the eight contestants who were gathered around the table. He was leaning with his back against the bar, elbows on the bar top, ankles crossed. At his side, Jordan had both hands on his shoulder now. She rested her chin on the backs of her hands, talking into his ear. Her blond locks trailed onto his forearm. It felt nice. He listened to what she was saying, nodded again. He was thinking hard.
    Juan was not here for the same reason as the others. He had come for a very specific purpose. He had some questions that needed answering, and he would do whatever he had to, be as ruthless as necessary, to get to those answers.
    He raised an eyebrow, looked at Jordan. She lowered her eyelids a little, still smiling, and he came to a decision. He was here for answers, but there was no reason he couldn’t also have a little fun along the way. He tilted his head toward Jordan and hesitated a moment. She might even be offended by what he had in mind.
    Would she or wouldn’t she?
    There was only one way to find out.

CHAPTER 16
    C amilla looked up as angry voices erupted suddenly from across the room. Problems already?
    On the far side of the salon, Jordan had stepped away from Juan to face him, fists on her hips, body rigid with anger. Juan’s hands were raised