Copyright © 2018 by Matt Shaw

Matt Shaw Publications

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may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever

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The characters in this book are purely fictitious.

Any likeness to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

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The Island

Written by Matt Shaw

Prologue

Shoes off, kicked to the side messily.

Feet up on the coffee table.

Cup of tea in hand.

Spare hand on the controller.

Television control pointed to the 50” screen.

Red button clicked on the handset.

The screen illuminated.

Half ten in the evening and The News is still playing.

*

The woman on-screen looked up at the cages hanging from the ceiling with fear in her eyes. Inside one cage; her parents. The second cage had her husband trapped within. The host, a smug looking guy in a designer suit, put his arm around the contestant and told her to choose one cage. The contents of the cage she chose would go home with her that day whilst the contents of the second cage would not. Before the woman made her choice the screen flicked back to a studio setting of a local newsroom where a suited and booted newsreader, sitting at a desk, was waiting to address the viewers.

‘And in other news; The Game - a controversial game-show which pitts contestants against one another in a series of twisted games - has aired its last episode after being inexplicably cancelled by the creators despite a record number of viewers tuning in to last year’s…’

*

The television screen flicked.

The picture changed.

*

The crowd around the stadium burst into cheers and chants as the home-team booted the ball into the back of the net for a fourth time in the first round. Four goals to nil and slim chance for the opposition to…

*

The television screen flicked.

The picture changed.

*

The middle-aged man was writing some notes on a lined pad when the doorbell to his flat was rung. He set the pen down and opened the door to a woman from down the hall. She was standing there with her face made-up as though a special occasion. Flirtatious eyes locked to his and, with a smile, she said, ‘Hello - I’m having a dinner party and… Well… I’ve run out of coffee..’

The man smiled. Cock-sure of himself he said, ‘You’d better come in then.’

In his kitchen, he opened the cabinet door and asked her, ‘Will Gold Blend be too good for your guests?’

‘Oh, I think they could get used to it,’ the woman said as her eyes remained locked on her friendly neighbour.

‘It’s very sophisticated coffee…’

The woman’s smile faded.

‘They have very sophisticated tastes.’

‘Do they?’ he asked, surprised.

She eyed him up and down.

‘Yes,’ she replied. She looked away. ‘Well I must be getting back.’

The screen cut to coffee beans spilling through the air, poured from a container unseen as a voice-over explained how they were now richer and smoother than before.

The screen cut back to the woman as she sipped from a small mug of coffee. One of her dinner-guests asked her, ‘Have you met your new neighbour yet?’

‘Oh, er…’ The woman set her coffee down. ‘I’ve popped in for coffee…’ She raised her hand to her chin and rested her head with a small grin upon her face.

The screen cut to a picture of the coffee and lingered for a second before the television’s current channel was displayed for those too stupid to know what station they had stopped upon.

‘And now on Channel Seven, with strong language and scenes of animal slaughter… Would you survive being deserted on The Island?’

The station’s logo cut to black and a warning message faded up on the screen. The following show contains foul language, scenes of animal slaughter and conflict. Viewers of a nervous disposition had been warned…

*

Television controller set to the side.

Cup of tea sipped.

This was the program to end the evening with.

This was the show which had been anticipated all day.

He reached for the packet of Bourbon biscuits and opened them as quietly as possible as the narrator explained the show.

*

‘There’s no doubt that modern man has come a long way from his hunter-gatherer origins. Today we take food, shelter and water for granted and most of us consume rather than create. Here, we strip people of all of the luxuries and conveniences of modern living and force them to fight for their very existence…’

Aerial shots of a speedboat racing across the ocean, crystal clear water, towards a deserted island.

‘… We have taken ten ordinary people and abandoned them on a remote, uninhabited Pacific island with nothing but a few basic tools and their wits. These people are going to be completely alone, filming everything themselves… When pushed to the extreme… Do they have what it takes to survive?’

Shots of little clips taken from the impending series: waves crashing against rocks, people getting ill, local wildlife such as crocodiles and wild boar and - of course - the group of strangers shouting at one another…

‘This isn’t about talk. This is about action. Genuinely this will take these guys to the edge…’

The show’s fancy graphics fill the screen.

“THE ISLAND”

*

‘Can you pause it a minute? I’m just going to make a fresh brew…’

She got up and hurried from the room as he looked on in disbelief. With a huff, he leaned forward for the controller and aimed it back to the screen. A quick press of the button and the on-screen action was paused.

‘You couldn’t have done that while we were waiting for it to start?’ he called out.

Clattering from the kitchen, she didn’t hear him.

‘Un-fucking-believable,’ he muttered.

Episode One

Finding Home

1.

The narrator had already introduced the show, not that the contestants know this as the introduction was made, in a small booth, back in England - ready to be added to the show later in preparation for when it was aired on television.

The speedboat cut through the Pacific ocean with ease, frothing up the water behind it as it did so. The thirteen contestants were sitting either side of the boat, admiring the beauty of their surroundings as they contemplated what they’d let themselves in for, as the owner of the boat navigated his way to the drop-off point. The drop-off point itself being close to the island mangroves and not the white sandy shores each of them had come to expect from looking at Google Images of islands in the Pacific. But then, why would the show organisers take them directly to a slice of paradise? Dropping them off somewhere beautiful and serene was hardly going to make for entertaining viewing, unlike watching them hack their way through twisting mangroves with no clear way out.

The boat slowed to a stop and bobbed up and down on the water’s surface.

The owner of the vessel, employed by the show runners, warned them, ‘From here on in, you’re on your own.’ And, with that, he gave them one final opportunity to come away from the situation, ‘Is there anyone who’d like to back out?’

None of the group - carefully selected from thousands of applicants after an online campaign - put their hands up. They were here to prove they could survive out in the wilderness, stranded on an island and - given how it hadn’t started yet and the reality hadn’t set in - they were quietly confident.

‘Then, ladies and gentleman, good luck!’

One by one the group jumped into the calm waters as a small camera-crew filmed from the safety of the boat. This particular camera-crew were there to film the journey to the island only and, once the group were headed for the mangroves, would be returning with the boat and its owner, back to civilisation.

With the majority of the volunteers in the water, the last few gently lowered the equipment down. The equipment itself being contained in waterproof boxes which had built in buoyancy aids to help safely get both the goods inside and those who weren’t strong swimmers, across to shallower waters.

As they each started their way across the short distance to land, they joked and laughed. One of them, who'd come to be known as the joker of the pack, started to hum the Jaws theme and continued to do so - even when he was told to shut up by one of the more alpha males of the group.

He didn’t shut up.

Later a narrator would add, ‘The Pacific Ocean is home to the black-tip reef shark, the black-tip shark, the tiger shark, the great hammerhead and even the great white shark, to name but a few, and all have been seen in these very waters.’ What the narrator didn’t elaborate on was the fact that the producers had instructed locals to chum the area in the days leading up to the contestants’ arrival.

The camera-man, sitting comfortably on the speedboat with the camera resting upon his shoulder, zoomed in on Paul Crisp as he continued humming the theme.

Subtitles: Paul.

*

Paul was sitting in the middle of a busy call-centre, fielding incoming calls via his headset. As he took the nature of the caller’s enquiry, he tapped their details into the keyboard resting in front of him with the speed and dexterity of a touch-typist. It was clear from his face, the dead-eyed expression, that this wasn’t his dream job and that he was just going through the motions to earn a living in order to pay his monthly bills. Around him, colleagues were in a similar state - all acting like robots as the calls continued to come in.

His voice-over explained why he was doing the show, ‘Well it’s an adventure, isn’t it? Something to do. I’ll probably get fired for saying this, but I hate my job. Nine to five in a stuffy office building with no air-conditioning, going through the motions and pretending to care when - half the time - I agree with the customers when they call in; the service is shit!’ He laughed.

Paul was sitting on a stool in a studio. A studio light illuminated him in front of a blackened background as he spoke to someone either sitting or standing just to the side of the camera - out of sight of the future viewers at home.

‘I think the hardest thing about it will be not having immediate access to the Internet, you know? I can go without eating three square meals a day, I can pull my weight building this and that - whatever the camp needs… I can go out and kill what we want to eat, after hunting it down… But no Internet? That was almost a deal-breaker for me!’ He laughed again and then cranked his neck in such a way he looked as though he was trying to address someone behind the person he was talking to. ‘We sure we can’t sneak me a little tablet or something in? You know, something I can get online with? No? Not a chance?’ He looked to the camera and shrugged. ‘Worth a try, right?’

*

One of the designated cameramen focused his new camera, pulled from one of the equipment boxes, and aimed it towards another of the camera-crew who was busy lining a shot up of Paul humming the Jaws theme.

Chris - the alpha who’d originally told him to shut it up - glared at Paul with a look of disdain. He knew he wouldn’t see eye to eye with everyone on the program and he had expected conflict  from early on but - at the same time - he kind of expected to at least make it a day without forming a negative opinion of someone. Yet here he was, confident he and Paul would come to blows before too long.

‘Is there a song you’re prefer?’ Paul asked sarcastically, not bothered that he was annoying Chris.

‘The Sound of Silence.’ Chris’ reply was quicker than Paul had anticipated. Usually people who believed they were the alpha male, in group situations, were slower when it came down to wit but - credit where it was due - that was quick.

Paul stopped humming.

‘Idiot,’ Chris mumbled as he turned to look at the mangroves as though working out how best to navigate through them to a possible site for their camp for however long they remained on the show.

Subtitles: Chris.

*

Chris Minen was working out in a fairly busy gym. Whilst his lifting technique was impressive, and his reps fast, it was hard to ignore the fact that the weights weren’t exactly on the heavy side. Throughout his performance, his voice-over was heard.

‘There’ll be people who might not like me, of course. There’ll be people who I don’t like too but - so long as they just shut up and do what I say… We won’t have any problems.’ On-screen, he started grunting through his reps over-dramatically. ‘I’ll be honest, anything is easier than staying home and dealing with the wife.’

*

‘There’s three knives and three machetes,’ one of the females of the group said as she rifled through another of the equipment boxes. Her name was Donna Gunn and, at twenty-three, she was the youngest of the group and - in her own mind - the one who had the most to prove to the rest of the contenders.

Chris waded through the shallows to where Donna had opened the box. He leaned in and took a machete, and one of the knives, for himself without first clearing it with the rest of the group.

‘We’ll go this way,’ he said - pointing with the tip of the machete blade.

As he waded back towards the mangroves and the direction he’d pointed - the rest of the group slowly started to follow.

2.

From the shoreline where the group was dropped off, they had a thicket of mangroves to cut their way through before reaching dry land properly. It was exhausting work for the leader of the pack, in this case Chris, but also satisfying too; forging a path for all to follow and feeling as though he was the one who had discovered the island for the first time.

Once on drier ground the mangroves and water were replaced with jagged rocks which led the way to the mud, weeds, plants and trees. All of the group were paying close attention to their surroundings, having previously been warned of what could be lurking close to - and in -  the water. The mud banks - when reached - sloped upwards away from where the group had congregated.

‘This place will hit you hard. Be smart. Be alert.’ The survival expert’s words played through another of the group’s mind as she stood at the rear of the group waiting for them to choose a direction to head into. Her name was Angela McBride and - in her forties - she was one of the older women of the group.

‘Which way?’ she asked. She adjusted her hat to give more shade from the unforgiving sun as it blazed high in the sky. Sweat was already forming on her brow, picked up by the high definition camera as it focused in on how uncomfortable she looked, standing at the back of the group and so close to the water’s murky edge.

Despite asking the group for a direction to head in, the way they were headed wasn’t actually up for discussion as Chris continued to push forward, hacking at the weeds, and vines hanging from the trees, with his already well-used machete.

As the group followed, no one willing to argue with his decision because - at the end of the day - they didn’t have a better direction to head in, the designated camera operators did their best to capture shots of the scenery, snippets of the groups conversation, and the journey they were making.

*

‘I don’t know what was over there but it sounded really big…’ - Serenity Barber said as she ducked beneath a low-hanging branch; her attention snapped to the side by something unseen.

<Scream> ‘What’s that?’ Tracy Halls jumped back at the sight of a bug close to her foot.

‘That’s a fucking scorpion!’ Russell Hall said, leaning over her shoulder to get a look for himself.

‘Is it dangerous?’

Russell shrugged. ‘It’s ugly.’

‘I’m a Londoner. I was born in the concrete jungle! This jungle ain’t shit to me!’ Paul said, posing for the cameraman as though he was Tarzan: King Of The Jungle.

‘I drink fine wine at home, I’m not used to this.’ Alycia Menchaca said as she rested the camera down and sipped from the water supply the show-runners had given the group. The water was in a large container and was supposedly enough to last 24 hours before the group would need to find more. Each person had been limited to one mouthful of water though to ensure it lasted and - in the temperature they were hiking in - one mouthful felt like nothing. It was more hydrating than a potential glass of wine though…

Subtitles: Alycia

*

Alycia sat in front of a roaring open fire in a large living room. The furniture slightly out of focus behind her as she addressed the camera head-on, looked like something straight from an antique dealership. Hanging on the wall, close to the fire, a large painting of a man riding a horse. At the feet of the horse, a number of hounds.

Alycia laughed, ‘I’m not sure how I will do without my modern comforts,’ she said. ‘I’m sure I will be like a fish out of water but if you put me in any situation, I will adapt and I will survive. This is no different.’

*

Alycia lifted the camera back to her shoulder as the water container was taken by another thirsty member of the group.

‘Well - yes - but it is okay for everyone else,’ Alycia said to another camera operator as they filmed her, ‘but we have to carry these heavy cameras too. Surely that means an extra mouthful of water?’

The second camera jigged from side to side as the operator laughed. Alycia wasn’t joking though. In her mind - despite the others looking for where to go and carrying bits and pieces of equipment too - she was working harder.

Chris called out from a little way away. He was already halfway through hacking another thicket with his machete. ‘I’m going to go on ahead and see if I can find a good spot for camp. Everyone else wait here…’

‘Wait, should we really split up?’ Angela replied. It was a fair comment. In the wilds, it’s not about racing ahead and winning - it was about sticking together and ensuring everyone was looked after.

‘I’ll go with him,’ Donna said.

Alycia looked towards the camera operator who was capturing this whole conversation and shook her head. ‘I’m not going.’

‘They can clear a path and then we can film it,’ James said. ‘And, for footage, we can always interview them about what they saw when they get back.’

Alycia pointed at James and said, ‘I like your thinking!’

‘Not just a pretty face,’ James said.

Alycia laughed. She pointed her camera directly at him and started to record him filming her. From her angle, his face was obstructed by the equipment he was using. ‘The viewers at home should be thankful they can’t see your face!’

Subtitles: James

*

James Jarvis Harper was sitting at an editing desk in a small studio. On the screen he works at, there is a sports game playing. James’ voice-over accompanies the footage of him working.

‘A group of people trying to survive on a desert island, with limited resources and skills… Well it will certainly be more interesting than filming sports games that, if I am being honest, don’t really interest me.’ He laughed. ‘That probably doesn’t sound brilliant to prospective employers, does it? I should point out that - not being a fan of sport actually makes me a better camera operator because I can concentrate on what is happening rather than getting side-tracked by what I want to happen as a supporter.’

James was sitting in front of blackness, facing the camera. He shrugged and added, ‘Well I know what I meant and it sounded good to me… You know what - can we just start this interview again? Cut it all and go again? Or maybe - I don’t know… You don’t have to air it when the show goes live?’ He laughed. This time his laughter was more of a nervous one and if the audience didn't pick the nervousness from the laugh, then they certainly would from the look upon his scrawny face.

*

The rest of the group took a moment to rest. They had all been warned of the hard days ahead of them but nothing could have prepared them for how hard it actually was and whilst they all knew not to split up - none of them had the energy to chase after Chris and Donna who’d already been swallowed by the island’s foliage.

3.

Standing side by side, Donna and Chris looked more like father and daughter than two stranded individuals testing their survival abilities as they were recounting their failed mission back to James.

The rest of the group had also gathered around to hear what had gone wrong with their expedition. Despite the fact none of them had made a difference to the group’s current situation, they still found reason to moan (under their breath of course) about the lack of progress from Team Chris.

‘We could hear the sea,’ Chris was saying, leading the conversation just as he'd led everything so far, ‘but we just couldn’t get to it.’ He looked defiant in his failure as though he was still a hero for even attempting the mission in the first place. ‘It was just thick mangroves down there and no way through - not even with a group of us hacking at it.’

Chris and Donna had been gone for a couple of hours all in all and, by the time they had returned, the sun was already much lower in the sky. In new surroundings - hostile ones at that - their late return hadn’t left the group many options on what to do next and although none of them were saying what was on their mind, they were all concerned. They’d have to camp the night where they were.

‘So what now then?’ Vicky Crighton asked.

In her introduction video - filmed but considered “too dull” to play through when the episodes went out, Vicky confessed to being a sheep. She saw celebrities wearing certain outfits that she liked, she’d purchase them. Friends wanted to go out on the town, she’d let them pick where. Her last words to the camera, during the initial interview, had hinted at a similar way of living her life whilst on the island. Here was a woman who hadn’t been picked by the producers because they thought she could survive. The truth was, they knew - left to her own devices - she wouldn’t last more than a few days. She was picked because they knew she would create conflict: A woman who was reluctant to look after herself and happy to follow the lead of others. The producers knew she would be considered the lazy one.

‘Now we make camp,’ Chris said.

There was an awkward silence captured by all cameras. Chris stood his ground, looking around at the other contestants, waiting for one of them to challenge his decision. There was no challenge to be made though. The sun was going down and darkness would fall. They couldn’t stumble around the unknown in the dark without risking serious injury to themselves. All they could do was set up camp, try and rest and try to find somewhere more suitable in the morning. Looking around; leaves on the floor, tall trees netted with sticky webs between thick branches… It was a morning the majority of the group hoped would come sooner rather than later. A worrying thought given that it hadn’t even got dark yet!

‘Well I for one think it’s a delightful piece of real estate,’ Paul said sarcastically. ‘I especially like the undergrowth all over. It’s the perfect place for bugs and creepy-crawlies to hide in along with some, probably, mean snakes…’

Slowly the rest of the group looked at Paul. Although his voice had been full of sarcasm - he still wasn’t smiling. There was some truth in what he was saying. The vegetation in the immediate area was perfect for all manner of creatures and everyone was fully aware that the majority of those creatures would most likely have a nasty bite.

‘We’re staying here?’ Tracy asked, panic clear in her voice.

Paul couldn’t resist the opportunity to be a dick again and told her, ‘Well you can probably stay in the hotel just around the corner if you radio the producers and ask really nicely?’

Tracy shot him a look as if to say fuck you.

Paul smiled at her.

‘Can we at least vote on it?’ Tracy said.

Subtitles: Tracy

*

Tracy was sitting in her surgery making notes on a piece of paper. The whole set-up was for the benefit of the show only and what she was writing on the form was actually gibberish. The producers wanted to make it look official though; her working in her doctor’s surgery as they played over her voice-over.

‘I’m fine with blood, needles, vomit, faeces and whatever other bodily fluids there are but what I’m not fine with are bugs. I don’t like spiders. And, although not a bug, I’m not a fan of snakes either. So long as the rest of the group keep those away from me, I’ll fix them up perfectly if they get ill.’ There was a moment’s pause as, on-screen, Tracy continued scribbling the gibberish. ‘Oh and I’m not especially keen on the dark so we’ll have to keep that fire burning. Like, I’m not scared of it… I just don’t like it, if that makes sense?’

*

The group had taken a vote as to whether they wanted to camp in that particular spot and - with the area growing darker by the second - the majority had voted yes. Billy Smith was one of the members who’d opposed the idea and was squatting on the ground with his arms folded on his knees, close to where Tracy was standing. She too had wanted to move on.

‘Are you okay?’ Tracy asked.

‘No. This is bullshit.’

‘I know…’

‘This is the worst decision we have made so far, without a shadow of a doubt.’ He continued, ‘We have no means of making fire, we’re drenched through… We should have ploughed through! It’s an island! It’s not going to be more than three hours from one side to the other…’

‘I know, I know…’

‘We should have gone into the jungle as deep as we could, try and find the highest point and then tried to make our way down to the beach…’

Tracy nodded along as she let him rant.

The rest of the group were ignoring him as they made themselves busy trying to create a make-shift camp for the evening. Some were kicking the fallen branches  away, some were trying to find leaves and foliage for them to lay upon as a form of bedding and - of course - some were talking to the camera.

*

‘I’m already getting bitten to bits,’ Serenity moaned as she scratched at her arm. The forest around her alive with little insects happy to bite anything and anyone that came their way.

‘I don’t know if I am being too moody but Billy is annoying me now. He’s so negative about things it’s hard for it to not rub off, you know? We’re all in this together and we should be working it through as a team - not sitting around moaning about what is going on,’ Angela said. ‘I came here to challenge myself and - well - this is a challenge. It’s part of the experience!’

‘I said to… What’s her name? Donna? Donna!… I said to Donna that we should have pushed on through the mangroves and thickets but she was adamant we were wasting and time and started to come back so… No choice but to follow her in case she got stuck. We definitely, definitely could have made it though.’ Chris said - ever defiant. ‘Half tempted just to ditch these fuckers and go set up my own camp.’ He shrugged to the camera-operator. ‘Probably be easier and a better show with less whiney bitches.’

Paul laughed as he spoke to James as James filmed him. ‘He said that?’ he asked. ‘He’s a prick. Rambo without the skills, the intelligence and the weapons…’

‘So basically he has a red head band then?’

‘No. Left that at home in his underwear drawer.’

James laughed, as did Paul.

From the background of the shot, Chris called over to them, ‘You gonna come and help, or what?’

‘Running all the way, darling!’ Paul winked to the camera.

On the next episode:

Quick-fire clips

Various clips of a beach

‘The beach! It’s the beach!’

Vicky, Donna and Angela bob up and down in the water.

‘Look!’ Donna pointed down into the water. ‘Fish! Look at the size of it!’

Tracy blowing on a pile of smoking twigs and dry grass that she’s using to try and get a fire going.

‘It’s smoking! It’s smoking!’

Chris squaring up to Paul. ‘Say it again, fucking say it again…’

‘Guys! Can we not do this!’ Serenity called out.

The credits roll.

Episode Two

Home Sweet Home

4.

None of the group had slept well and it was apparent from both the tired looks on their faces and their moods as they continued trekking through the forests, hoping to find the elusive beach they were seeking.

For Alycia, the day had started with filming a few more interviews of how the night had gone but - the only interview that would end up being shown was from Serenity as she showed off a large bite on her arm. She had no idea what had done it but was horrified that - whatever it was - it had managed to bite through her clothes to get to her skin.

Despite Chris trying to take charge of the group once again, this time around people were less than willing to follow. He did, after all, fail to navigate them to somewhere they could call camp the previous day so there were no guarantees he could find the right way today either. Instead they had opted to follow Billy who - as per his discussion the previous evening - said that they were best off heading deeper into the jungle, towards higher ground and then down to the sea as opposed to just cutting across the island. Funnily enough  - no sooner had he stated his plans - Chris made mention of that being what he was going to suggest too. It was a line that Paul was always going to react too, such was his cheeky character.

‘Chris - the man with the plan… And if it was someone else’s idea… Rest assured Chris will still lay claim to it being his. The man who knows everything…’

Similarly, Chris was always going to respond to what Paul had said.

‘Say it again! Fucking say it again!’

‘Guys can we not do this?’

Serenity was right to pipe up. It was a waste of energy Paul saying something and it was a waste of energy with Chris responding and getting aggressive which - in turn - would have sparked Paul off. With limited food and water to last twenty-four hours - it was completely pointless to waste energy mouthing off and squaring up to each other and, mercifully for the group, the two men knew that. Even so, Chris made sure Paul was the first to back down.

‘He’s an idiot,’ Paul said to Alycia as the group slowed to a rest for a few minutes. ‘He walks around the island like he owns the place but - truth be told - he’d probably be the first to fall down a fucking hole or off a cliff.’ He laughed. ‘He was saying yesterday that he is using this as a vacation from his wife. I bet she is at home cheering the fact he is here…’

Serenity was close by, listening to the “interview” when she walked over to stand next to Paul. ‘Come on,’ she said, ‘we all need to get along for the sake of the group as a whole!’

Paul looked at her.

‘If you two are fighting, it just makes the rest of us uncomfortable and we’re all supposed to be in this together, aren’t we?’

Paul went to say something but stopped himself when Serenity raised an eyebrow. He looked back to the camera and directly down the lens where he pulled a face as though he was a scolded child.

Subtitles: Serenity

*

Serenity stood at the front of a class in a small village hall. Beneath her feet was a yoga mat. A number of group participants were standing on mats of their own and facing her, keen for the class to start. Serenity’s voice-over accompanied the class she expertly instructed.

‘Well by bringing Serenity to the island you’ll also be bringing serenity. I’ll be the peacekeeper, ensuring everyone stays focused on what they need to get accomplished… It’s how I am with my friends and I’ll be assigning myself that very same role on the island,’ she said.

*

Paul was talking to Serenity. He asked, ‘Are you going to be holding therapy sessions by the camp-fire?’

The camera was capturing the whole conversation and it was clear Paul was playing up for the eventual audience who’d be watching.

‘I’m not a therapist?’

‘You’re not?’

‘What makes you say that?’

‘Nothing.’

‘You can’t just say that! Why do you think I am a therapist?!’

‘Just what you were saying and how you spoke to me and Chris… Are you really not a therapist?’

Serenity flashed a look at the camera and asked, ‘Is he being serious?’

‘The beach! It’s the beach!’

Alycia quickly panned the camera round. Donna was jumping up and down in the distance, waving over to where the group were standing and - with the camera zoomed in - had a broad smile across her face.

‘What? Seriously?’ Angela called out.

Immediately the group started to gather their belongings and hurry towards Donna who was still jumping up and down excitedly. The camera operators running; shaking the cameras in the process as though filming a new Blair Witch Project film.

‘She’d best not be joking,’ Chris muttered. He knew she wasn’t joking though. She wouldn’t get the group’s hopes up and then just piss over them for a quick laugh. The reaction to such a joke would not be a pleasant one.

Billy was first to Donna. He didn’t mind that she’d wandered off and found the beach because - at the end of the day - she’d only gone in the direction he was leading them. She was first to see it, yes, but he found it. A nice fuck you to Chris “the alpha-male”.

Subtitles: Billy

*

Billy was sitting in front of a black background. Just as others had done before him, he was answering questions fielded to him from someone standing to the side of the camera recording him. The questions would be removed from the final edit ahead of the broadcasting of what Billy had to say, to give the impression he was just freely talking.

‘I wouldn’t say I was an alpha-male but if something needs to be done I’ll get it done. If someone else wants to step forward and take charge, they’re welcome to. Or if they want to tell me how to do something - so long as what they’re saying isn’t completely retarded - they’re welcome to, and I’ll listen. But, if someone is talking complete shit - I’m not the kind of person to sit quietly and nod along like a little puppet. I’ll say something.’

He added, ‘I’m not confrontational. I just don’t take any shit but, to me at least, that’s not a bad way to be. If some kind of confrontation did spring up though - I wouldn't be the kind of person to carry on pushing the other person’s buttons though. I’d fix what needed fixing and just hope the other person learned from their mistake.’

He smiled.

*

Billy called back to Chris, ‘And that’s how you find a beach, mate.’

Paul laughed as he brought up the rear of the group. ‘Ooh, shots fired.’

Chris - glaring in Billy’s direction from the middle of the group - shot back, ‘Yeah… Donna did a good job…’

Billy didn’t hear him though. He’d already run off with Donna towards the promised white sands of this supposed paradise island.

5.

The 4K cameras picked up the beach setting beautifully for those who’d be watching a television compatible with that resolution. The waters, calm, were a translucent blue reflecting the clear skies, the sands were tiny grains of pure white. Set back from the ocean, tall coconut palms stretched up to the heavens above this paradise island. Had the line of trees hidden a five-star resort, this truly would have been paradise on earth.

The group had momentarily forgotten they were a part of a television show with the excitement of finding this picture-perfect-postcard-paradise. Some were frolicking in the waters, bobbing up and down - waist deep - and others were simply laying on the sands, facing the skies - far more comfortable than the tough night on the rough mud and leaves.

Vicky, Donna and Angela were three of the group in the ocean - letting the calm waters clean away the day and previous night’s sweat. Giggling and laughing - not quite what the producers had in mind when they set the show in motion not that they would have been too bothered. They’d have known, this was simply the calm before the storm.

‘Look!’ Donna pointed down into the water. ‘Fish! Look at the size of it!’

Swimming close to where they were relaxing, a Pufferfish was idling by unthreatened (and therefore not puffed up).

‘Try and catch it! That’s dinner sorted tonight.’ Donna said, keen to be the first to not only find the beach but also score the group something to eat.

Angela laughed. ‘You might not want to eat that one. That is one of the most toxic fish in the ocean, or something like that. I remember reading that the toxins in that thing are 1200 times more deadly than cyanide…’

‘Oh…’

There was a moment’s silence. Slowly it dawned on the three women that they were in unknown waters. The presence of the Pufferfish enough to remind them that they were also not alone. Gradually they drifted back towards the beach without trying to make it obvious they were neither scared nor running.

On the shoreline Chris was sitting in the shade with James filming him as he watched the girls in the water.

‘I don’t see why they’re so excited. It’s a beach. We all knew there would be a beach. It’s a fucking island. They’re acting like they haven’t seen a beach before. Fucking stupid.’

From behind the camera James said, ‘You’re fun at parties, aren’t you?’

‘I just don’t see why they’re so excited about being on a beach. We’re on an island. We’re surrounded by fucking beaches…’

Paul called out from a little way away. ‘Then how come you couldn’t find it yesterday?’

‘Oh fuck off.’

Paul laughed.

*

As the group made plans on how to set up camp, there was already another argument brewing.

Billy was saying, ‘We can’t sleep here though. There are sand flies everywhere.’

‘What? We’re sleeping on the beach. We trekked forever to find the beach and - so - we’re sleeping here! That was always the plan.’ Donna argued before Chris had a chance to stick his nose in, not that he would have disagreed with her. The sea was a good source of potential food (avoiding the Pufferfish) and there was rubbish washed up on the shoreline which would be good to forage through on the off-chance there was anything of use. Better yet, it was away from potential predators lurking in the forests.

‘Sand flies. They will literally kill you…’ Billy continued.

‘Well - no - they’ll irritate you. They won’t kill you.’

‘Can we just enjoy the beach for a moment? We spent so long looking for it…’ Serenity said.

‘You can enjoy it for as long as you want to but we aren’t here for a holiday. We’re here to survive…’

‘We’re all aware of why we are here,’ Chris snapped.

‘Question - if you didn’t want to stay here - why did you help us to find it?’ Angela asked.

‘Because it’s important to be close to the beach but we’re not sleeping on it!’

*

Paul was talking to Alycia as she filmed him.

‘He just moans about every-fucking-thing, doesn’t he? It’s never-ending! There’s always something. I tell you this now, if we have to kill someone to survive, he is the first one I am going to eat.’

‘You wouldn’t go for someone… bigger?’

‘Nope. Start with him for a quieter life.’ Paul reflected on his comments a moment and then added, ‘Mind you, little bitch disagrees about so much that he’ll probably give us the shits…’

Alycia laughed.

*

Billy’s worrying, and his sand flies warning, was enough to stop the rest of the group wanting to stay on the beach when it came down to the vote but, they didn’t stray far. Instead camp was set up in the tree-line with mostly mud underfoot with just a sprinkling of sand where it had been carried over by the winds. Billy took that as another victory but the truth of the matter was, no one had actually planned on staying on the beach, exposed to the elements. The trees above offered protection from potential rain and the blistering rays of the sun scorching down upon the earth.

‘They weren’t wrong! Look! The island does provide!’ Vicky walked over to where they were building the camp-site with a bundle of string she’d found washed up on the rocks a little further down the beach. The “they” she was referring to were the instructors who had given the contestants a weekend’s worth of basic survival training before letting them loose on the island.

Chris took the string from her and - with it in both hands - gave it a short, sharp tug. The string snapped with ease.

‘Won’t be much cop but sure we can kind a use for it,’ he muttered under his breath before he tossed it down to the side of where they were working.

In a move which wasn’t supposed to be sexist at all, the men were using the machetes to cut down branches from the nearby trees - the branches to be turned into a basic frame for their shelter - whilst the women set about using knives to cut down palms from the trees which could be used as both a roof and a flooring. Three others were busy trying to make fire - which some argued was the more important of the roles given they needed fire with which to boil any water supply they were yet to find.

‘Think they planted it there to help us?’ Vicky asked.

‘If that’s the case, want to go back out and see if you can find if they’ve left a hamper of food and drink for us too?’ Paul said sarcastically as the branch he worked on fell to the ground with a crash.

Billy added his thoughts too, ‘No. No I don’t think they left it there to help. It’s just litter from whatever islands are close-by because humans are polluting assholes.’

‘It’s smoking! It’s smoking!’ Tracy shouted with excitement as their efforts at creating fire started to pay off. A little wisp of smoke from where she was creating friction with a small piece of wood. The group all stopped what they were doing and hurried over to her as - carefully - she transferred the hot ember from the wood over to the tinder bundle she’d already prepared.

‘Now blow on it!’ Angela said.

Angela didn’t have to say anything though. Tracy was already blowing on the ember.

‘That’s it…’

The ember took and a flame licked up from within. As the group cheered, Tracy started to add the kindling they’d gathered earlier. The fire was lit as the group continued to celebrate.

6.

By the time the camp was complete, the sun was already fading as day turned to night. The second day spent and the group were at least able to tick a couple of items from the to-do list: find and build a shelter and make fire. Despite the accomplishment moods were still wavering though given that none of them had eaten properly since setting foot on the island. Nor had they drunk what should have been their daily intake of water.

Huddled around the fire to keep the evening chill at bay, the group were discussing plans for the following day. Most, if not all, centred around finding both food and - more importantly - water.

‘Well - we know there are fish…’ Donna said.

Angela laughed. ‘Yeah, poisonous ones.’

‘What’s that?’ James asked.

Angela explained, ‘There was a Pufferfish in the ocean which she said would be perfect for dinner.’

The group turned to Donna, shocked. They had all been warned of what not to eat and - on top of the list of animals to avoid - the Pufferfish was number one.

‘Well there will be other fish,’ Donna said.

‘She’s right… Take a large stick, use the string to tie a knife to it and - perfect for spearing fish…’ Chris said, already imagining himself as a champion hunter.

Paul couldn’t resist and chimed in, ‘You want to take the weak-ass rope which snaps easily, tie one of our knives to it and then go hunting in the really deep sea… Like, I don’t know, you couldn’t possibly see a potential problem with that?’

The group laughed. Chris glared at Paul.

‘Okay,’ Chris said. ‘I’ll take a knife and I’ll sharpen the tip to a really, really sharp point. Then, I’ll take that point and I’ll stick it up your…’

‘Guys. Come on!’ Serenity stepped into her role as peacekeeper again.

Tracy added, ‘I don’t want to be patching anyone up tonight. It’s been a long day and I am tired.’

Paul just sat back on the ground, grinning at how easy it was to wind Chris up. Something which, for him, was clearly going to be a daily ritual.

‘He’s a fucking idiot,’ Chris said.

Billy turned the conversation back to what was important, ‘Okay so we know there are fish in the sea and we know we can make something to skewer the fish so… Some of us should try our hand at fishing tomorrow whilst a couple go and look for a water source. We need someone to keep collecting kindling for the fire and to ensure the fire doesn’t die… And obviously we all need to keep an eye out for another food source too.’

Billy paused as he looked among the group to see if anyone had anything else to add. There was silence.

‘So you going to decide which of us does what?’ Chris asked after a couple of minutes of just the insects singing from the trees and the crackling of the fire.

‘People here are big enough and ugly enough to decide amongst themselves,’ Billy said. Whilst he didn’t think it would have been a bad idea to have a “camp leader” he wasn’t about to assign himself the role. If people wanted him to take charge and dish out the jobs, he would have done it. If people wanted someone else to do it, he would have gone along with that too. At the end of the day though - people knew there were jobs to be done and, if they didn’t think they could do it, they probably wouldn’t put themselves for it.

‘So long as everyone plays their part in getting the jobs done,’ Billy added. He sat back as - one by one - people started to state their job preference. Billy himself didn’t care what he did so long as there was something to do to keep himself busy he was easy. What will be, will be.

On the next episode:

Quick-fire clips

Various clips of a beach and the camp-fire

The sound of a female screaming.

Serenity talking into the radio asking for immediate assistance.

The majority of the group standing on the beach, looking out towards the waters.

Angela asking, ‘Can you see them yet?’

Donna asking, ‘Where are they?’

The credits roll.

Episode Three

An Accident

7.

The group had been divided, not through arguments but rather through chores. By breaking off into smaller sub-groups they’d be able to get more done and create a fully functioning camp in which to survive the coming weeks. Tracy, Vicky and Chris had gone to the rocks which were further down the beach to try their hand at fishing. Alycia had tagged along too but only to film their efforts. Donna and Serenity had remained close to the fire to gather more kindling and also ensure the flames continued to burn. Paul and James had taken to the forests in an effort to find a source of water and Angela and Billy were also close to the rocks. Previously - when scouting for useful items which had washed ashore - the group had seen some limpets down there. These little aquatic sea-snails might not have been a great meal but it was still a source of protein and, with the group getting hungry, they were better than nothing. Certainly until the others caught fish or, failing that, ventured deeper into the forests to see what else they could hunt on.

Everyone had their role within the camp and whilst progress may have been slow on finding kindling, drinking water and fish - the limpets were plentiful and everyone was at least attempting to pull their weight as captured by the cameras following them.

‘Stop moving!’ Chris was frustrated with Vicky and Tracy. Whilst he stayed relatively still in the waters, the women were constantly on the move as they hunted the fish; each of the group with their own sharpened spear. ‘You’re scaring the fish off.’

In truth, there were no fish around at that particular point. All that had happened was that they’d seen one and then gone for it in the hope they’d not only get it but that there’d be more around too. Not here though. Here there were only schools of little tiddlers which were not only fast but impossible to catch without the aid of a small net or at least something with which to trap them between rocks.

‘Come on, we need something to go with the limpets!’ Billy said from a little way back on the rocks. He and Angela had gathered more than enough to feed the camp for a small meal and he knew that but, he couldn’t resist the chance to put a little more pressure on not the girls but, rather, Chris. When they’d all spoken out about what role they’d like to try on, Chris demanded that he was the one to go fishing given how - at home - it was his sport of choice.

Billy watched as Chris got more frustrated and couldn’t help but to smile. He wondered whether Chris regretted boasting about what an amazing fisherman he was now. Although it was only a matter of time before he blamed the equipment, or rather the lack of the equipment. For Billy, the icing on the cake now would be if one of the women suddenly spiked a fish, even if it was so small it couldn’t be shared among everyone. Just something to prove that they managed to capture one whereas “the fisherman” had failed.

Vicky moved closer to the rock, frustrated at her own lack of luck with regards to the fishing. She hoisted herself out of the water and sat there with her feet dangling in.

‘How do you think the others are getting on?’ she asked.

Back at the camp, Donna and Serenity were collecting kindling whilst also ensuring the fire didn’t go out. Serenity took the job because it seemed to be the one no one else wanted and so it was easier to just agree to doing it and Donna had woken feeling unwell from another night with not much sleep. The camp was better than the previous night’s rest but still not good enough to be truly comfortable. A lack of comfort and a lack of food and water and she just felt off her game so had switched places with Angela. The cameras didn’t stay behind to watch them collecting the wood and watching the fire because there wasn’t much opportunity for anything to happen but - even so - their actions were being caught by a series of Go-Pro cameras which they’d been given to set up around the camp.

The fact that the main cameras didn’t stay back to film their antics didn’t mean that the job wasn’t important though. The fire’s flames were necessary to keep the group warm at night, purify the water and - of course - cook whatever the others managed to capture during their day, if they managed to get anything.

Tired, and feeling weak, Donna sat down under the roof of their shelter.

‘You okay?’ Serenity asked.

Donna wasn’t the biggest of people. Her body had been skinny even before she came out to the island and this wasn’t the kind of trip which would lead to much of a weight gain. This would be a trip which would see substantial weight loss and if she was already struggling, things were only going to get tougher if the others didn’t succeed in their tasks.

‘I’m okay,’ Donna said, not wishing to show any weakness. ‘Just resting.’ She laughed and added, ‘And hoping they bring back a damn whale that we can cook up.’

Serenity laughed too at the image of Chris dragging a fully-grown whale carcass up the beach.

‘Well - I best get more wood then just in case they do manage that…’ Serenity said.

‘I’ll be right there.’

‘Take your time.’

Subtitles: Donna

*

‘I think what I am most afraid of is that people look at me as this slight girl and think that I can’t do the job as capably as they can.’

Donna was sitting in front of a black background. Just as the others had been interviewed in a similar set-up, this was her turn to be in the limelight.

‘Stick me on that island and I will bust a gut working harder than any of the others if only to prove a point. I might not look muscly, I might not look as though I have strength but - I will do anything the others are doing and I’ll do it with a smile on my face, right up until the moment the job is done. Then, and only then, I will rest up.’

There was a look in her eyes of sheer determination. Whether she could follow through with her words remained to be seen but - whatever the case - it was very clear that she believed what she was saying. She was a pretty girl, short blonde hair and green eyes, who seemed prettier still with her positive attitude towards the island and (in parts of the interview that weren’t broadcast) life itself. There was no way the watching audience wouldn’t be rooting for her.

The producers almost felt sorry for her. Almost. They knew putting her on the show was the equivalent of throwing a lamb to the slaughter.

Donna smiled. ‘I’ll definitely surprise people.’

8.

Paul was walking in front of James as James filmed his progress. He hadn’t been filming the whole time, just now to show a little of the journey they were making and capture how dense the surrounding jungle was.

Paul was carrying the water tank which - since late the previous night - was empty. Both men had a small amount of water on them in their personal canteens but, other than that, they were dry. As he walked, he talked.

‘I just think we probably should have left some breadcrumbs or something so we can find our way back to the others when we’ve found water.’

Paul stopped in his tracks and turned back to James. He looked at him through the camera.

‘I mean I know you have filming to do but are you also paying attention to the route we’re taking? I mean - I can’t promise I’ll know the exact route back.’

‘You’re joking, right?’ James spoke out from behind his camera.

Paul pulled a face. It was the same whoops expression he’d pulled to the camera back when he accidentally offended Serenity by accusing her of being a therapist due to how she spoke to people.

‘I only mentioned it because I am sure we’ve been this way already.’

‘What?’

Paul pointed to a bush at the side of a large tree which stretched right up to the skies. ‘Isn’t that the bush I pissed in?’ he asked.

‘I don’t know. I wasn’t watching when you went to the toilet!’

‘Really? I could have sworn I heard you filming.’ Paul looked at James with suspicious eyes. ‘You sure you weren’t filming me?’

‘You’re fucking about, aren’t you?’ James asked as he genuinely started to panic.

‘What?’

‘That’s not the bush and you do know where we are?’

‘Honestly, mate, not got the foggiest. But it’s fine. We’re on an island. It’s impossible to get lost forever.’

Paul did know where they were. He knew it was important to keep track of his bearings due to the fact their water was limited. The last thing they wanted to do was walk in too far and with not enough fluids to keep them going. Even so, it was fun to watch James panic. Paul knew James hadn’t paid much attention to where they were going. Whenever he wasn’t looking through the viewfinder, he was looking at his feet - worried about treading on snakes. Or, more specifically, worried about a snake striking out at him. The producers had an evacuation team close to hand but that didn’t mean a snake bite wasn’t potentially fatal out here.

‘You realise we don’t have much water, right?’ James was aware that their water was dangerously low. In temperatures this extreme, staying hydrated was vitally important - a point driven home by the survival specialists who trained them before dropping them to the island. James continued, ‘Everyone should have looked for water first. We should have gone one direction and got two other groups to go in another…’ He added, ‘It’s so fucking hot and I’m so thirsty already… We’re going to run out.’

‘Then we had better find some,’ Paul said helpfully.

He turned away from James with a smile on his face and continued to walk. James had stopped in his tracks. Paul walked a few more feet before he realised he was walking alone. He stopped and slowly turned back to James as the camera lowered to the ground.

‘Come on,’ Paul said, ‘we have water to find.’

‘We should start going back to camp.’

‘What? We can’t. Not without finding water first.’

‘You just said you have no idea where we are. I have no idea where we are either. I don’t know about you but I don’t have much water left and…’ He paused a moment. ‘We need to get back to camp. We can always come back out with a little more water on us.’

‘You want to go back with no water and ask the others if we can have a little of their water just to come back out here? That makes no sense. And, for all you know, water could be right over the next ridge…’

‘And it might not be too - in the meantime we are using our energy, we are sweating… We are becoming more and more dehydrated and, at some point, we collapse.’

Paul sighed. He was expecting some kind of reaction but not a full on melt-down.

‘Come on, mate, I was just joking around… I know where we are…’

‘What?’

‘I was just trying to get a reaction. You know me, I’m a dick.’

‘Bullshit.’

‘No, really, I am a dick.’

‘No. Bullshit you know where we are.’

‘I was just being a dick because I know you haven’t been paying attention to where we were… I know exactly where we are. And we can’t go back without water because the group is counting on us to find it. So, come on, put your big boy pants on and…’

James turned and started walking back the way they came from.

‘… Where are you going?’

‘I told you,’ James said, ‘I’m going back.’

Paul rushed forward and grabbed James by the arm.

‘Wait, wait,’ Paul said, ‘I’m sorry… I was just being a dick, I swear… I know where we are. We can’t turn back now. As I said, for all we know, a water source could be just over the next ridge…’

‘I said this was a stupid idea. We should have made it so that more than one group went searching for water… I’m going back…’

As James went to move, Paul gripped his arm tighter.

‘We can’t just go back. They’re counting on us…’

‘Let go of my fucking arm!’ James pulled his arm from Paul’s tight grip with force but, as he did so, the momentum sent him stumbling back.

With the additional weight of the camera, James staggered and tripped on a large fallen branch which was just a few feet behind him. As he went over, Paul reached for him but to no avail. James landed hard on the ground with a heavy crack coming from his cranium.

‘Fuck! You okay?’ Paul asked, genuinely concerned.

James didn’t respond and neither did he move.

‘James? You okay?’

The camera was on its side filming nothing but the trees to the side of the accident. The microphone on top of equipment picked up all of the sound, including the noise of the broken skull.

‘James. Stop fucking around. Get up.’ With each part of the sentence, Paul got a little more frantic. The panic in his voice also captured by the microphone. ‘James! Get up!’

9.

Angela screamed when she saw Paul. The camera turned to her before following her gaze and panning to see Paul standing close to the edge of the camp’s entrance. His hands stretched out before him, all bloody and red.

‘I… I think I killed him.’

Chris shook his head. ‘Pathetic,’ he said as the other group members hurried to Paul.

At the front of the pack was Tracy, concerned at the sight of blood - her first thought was that Paul had hurt himself despite what Paul had said.

‘I think I killed him,’ Paul said again. His voice was quaking, his legs and hands shaking. Tears streamed down his dirty face.

‘Where have you cut yourself?’ Tracy asked - still not hearing what Paul was saying as she looked at his hands.

Chris walked over. ‘He’s fucking about,’ he said. Chris’ voice was purposefully loud enough for all to hear him. ‘He’s just pissing around - trying to get a rise out of you all. He probably found an animal, killed it and got his hands bloody for this prank.’ He turned to Paul. ‘You didn’t get me with it, nice try though.’

Chris turned his back on Paul and - as he did so - Paul fainted to the ground.

‘Okay… Someone help me get him to the shelter…’

Billy came over and took Paul from under his arms.

‘Get his legs,’ Billy told Tracy.

Tracy wasted no time. Together they struggled with Paul over to the camp where upon they rested him down on the leaves under the roof of the shelter.

‘He’s incredibly dehydrated… I think we’re going to need to call for help..’ Tracy said.

‘You’re the doctor though - can’t you…’

Tracy stopped Billy mid-flow, ‘I am the doctor, yes. And this man needs more help than I can give him. Whilst I can help, we need to let them know what is going on so they can make the decision as to whether they want me to apply an iv to get him some fluids or whether they want to pull him away and put him in a proper hospital.’ She finished, ‘Either way, we need to let them know what is going on.’

Billy didn’t argue.

‘Get me the first aid kit.’

*

Alycia didn’t film Tracy as she tried to work on Paul. Not because Chris was adamant that Paul was still faking it but because - if the boot was on the other foot - she wouldn’t have wanted to be lying there with a camera in her face as she fought to come round. She would have wanted privacy. With that in mind she was filming Serenity who was standing on the beach.

Serenity was looking out to sea. She held the radio in her hand and - just as Angela standing next to her did, had a worried expression on her face.

‘Come in Team A, this is base-camp….’ Serenity pushed the button in on the side of the radio and spoke again, ‘Team A please come in…’

She had been talking into the radio for a few minutes now and wasn’t even getting the sound of static back. There was literally nothing.

‘Team A…. Please respond… We have a situation…’

The codenames were given by the show-runners on the training weekend. Paul had made a comment at the time to ask if his personal codename could be Mr. White because Mr. Pink sounded like a “faggot” - a reference to the Tarantino film Reservoir Dogs. His comment was met with a little laugh from Billy, also a fan of the film, and - other than that - silence.

Angela looked out to the sea and squinted into the distance. She raised her hand to above her eyes to block out the dazzling sun - not that it really helped thanks to the way it shone off the sea. ‘Can you see them yet?’

Donna joined the women and asked, ‘Where are they?’

‘They’ll be here!’ Serenity said. ‘For all we know, they’ve heard us but the responses just aren’t coming through… They’ll be here! They wouldn’t just abandon us in the middle of nowhere…’

Chris was watching the girls from a little further back. He approached, shaking his head. ‘He’s playing up for the cameras…’

Donna turned to him, frustrated at how pig-headed he was being. ‘Then where the fuck is James?’

Chris fell silent. He had been so annoyed by Paul’s constant bitching at him that he had been blinded to everything else. He hadn’t once considered James. Donna looked over Chris’ shoulder, back towards the camp.

‘Have they managed to get him to wake up yet?’

Paul was sitting up. He had a makeshift drip inserted into the vein in his arm in an effort to replenish the lost fluids and get him hydrated again. He was still crying. He was still saying he’d “killed him”.

Billy was asking him, ‘Where’s James?’ The whereabouts of the missing cameraman being more important as to what had actually happened at this stage. ‘Where is he?’

‘… I killed him… I didn’t mean to kill him…’

On the next episode:

Quick-fire clips

The group is freaking out.

James’ body is lying close to camp. His skin is pale and lips blue.

The camera is facing Paul as though he is holding it. He looks down the lens with a vacant expression. From this glimpse - has he snapped?

Chris shouting, ‘I don’t want that murderous fuck in this camp with us!’

Serenity, ‘Everyone needs to calm down.’

Serenity, blood pumping from a gash in her neck.

The credits roll.

Episode Four

Alone

10.

The body was cold to the touch, the skin pale. Its lips blue. James’ eyes were closed and had been the moment his head had hit the sharp edge of the rock.

Billy was standing over the body with his hands in the pockets of his shorts. Staring at the corpse, it wasn’t James he was thinking about as a few of the group wept from somewhere behind him. Billy was thinking about them. He was thinking about himself. He was thinking about all of them ending up like this, lying cold on the ground of this God forsaken island.

Without taking his eyes from the body, Billy repeated an earlier question, ‘Did you try them again?’ He was referring to the producers and the rescue team.

Since they’d all gotten back from collecting the body, led by Paul who still wasn’t doing good mentally, Serenity had not left the water’s edge. She had repeatedly been asking for them to come and help get everyone off the island. The show was meant to be entertaining for the people who watched at home, and an interesting challenge for those taking part.

No one was meant to be dying.

Donna had just come up from the sandy beaches and it was her who Billy was addressing.

‘Nothing,’ she said. ‘I don’t think anyone is listening.’

‘They have to be listening. They couldn’t just leave us here,’ Chris snapped from a few feet away where he was standing next to one of the many trees.

‘Couldn’t they?’ Billy said. ‘We all signed up to be left on the island, right? As far as I am concerned that is exactly what they did. They left us here to…’ His eyes were still fixed to the body. ‘They left us here to fucking rot.’

Angela suddenly got up from where she’d been sitting on a felled log they’d pulled away from one of the trees, when first setting up the camp. She grabbed one of the machetes from where it was poking up from the muddied ground and headed towards the tree-line.

‘What are you doing?’ Billy asked, still without looking up from the body.

‘I’m not sitting here with him like that,’ Angela said. She was talking about the corpse. Like some of the others she had grown tired of looking at it but - like Billy - was unable to take her eyes away from it. ‘I’m going to get some palm leaves, or something, to cover him.’

Tracy took a second machete and followed Angela. ‘I’ll help,’ she said.

Donna watched as the two women started gathering foliage to cover the body up with.

‘How’s Paul doing?’ Billy asked.

‘What are you fucking doing?’ Chris snapped. Billy turned to him, unsure as to whether he was talking to him or not. Chris wasn’t. He was looking directly at Alycia who was still filming as much as she could capture with the one main camera. Chris asked again. ‘What the fuck are you doing, I said?’ Alycia panned the camera to Chris. Immediately her heart skipped a beat when she realised Chris’ anger was aimed at her. ‘Why are you fucking filming this?’

‘I signed a contract to say…’ Alycia started to explain but was immediately cut off.

‘… A contract with people who have abandoned us! You’re filming shit for people who have left us here. They have fucking left us…’

Not wanting more stress, Donna walked from the fight.

‘For all we know they haven’t left us and there is a problem with the communications,’ Billy interjected. It was a fair point even though he knew he was clutching at straws. For a show like this, they would have checked and double checked the comms. Then they would have triple checked them to be safe, and gotten another team to repeat the whole process.

‘Really? You honestly believe that fucking shit?’ Getting more hot-headed with each passing second, Chris added, ‘They have fucking left us here to die…’

‘This was an accident!’ Billy pointed to the corpse.

‘An accident that this bitch is still filming! The producers will be loving this shit if they’re even real producers and planning on airing this! Why? Fucking viewing figures! I’ll be surprised they didn’t plant a couple of us to ensure crap like this happens to ensure the drama is constant…’

‘Oh - now you’re being paranoid…’

‘Oh really? You can say for definite that…’

‘He’s gone!’ Donna came running back over. Both men looked at her. ‘He’s gone. Paul’s gone.’

There was silence.

Donna added, ‘I went to check on him and he wasn’t there. He’s not down the beach… He’s gone.’

Chris looked back to Billy with a raise eyebrow. ‘And you think he couldn’t have been a plant? Probably already been evacuated by the people behind all this, now that he has played his part. A job well done, he gets to go home early…’

Billy looked back to Chris. ‘You’re fucking insane. You know that, right? I’m thinking the producers - who do exist - should have vetted the applicants a little more thoroughly to avoid people like you.’ He turned to Donna. ‘He’ll be around. He’s probably just gone for a walk… We’ll go find him… It’s fine. And,’ he added, ‘the others will get a hold of the help…’

Angela and Tracy approached with the foliage they’d collected. Silently they started to cover James’ body. Chris, Donna and Billy also fell silent out of respect. For now this was the only burial James would be getting, until they knew for sure whether they were really alone or not.

Only when the body was covered did Chris break the silence. He asked, ‘Should we prepare leaves for the rest of us too?’

His question went unanswered.

11.

The camera turned from looking at scenery to capturing Paul in the viewfinder. His eyes were red raw from crying. Despite the sun tanning everyone else, his skin seemed almost ghostly pale. He was holding the camera Blair Witch Style and looking directly down the lens as though addressing the audience at home man to man (or woman). Given the way he was controlling the camera, the focus wasn’t too atrocious although there was definitely a blur to his image.

Initially the camera had been left at the site of the accident, which is where Paul had found it now. At the time the group had been more worried about getting James back to the camp even though they knew he’d already passed.

‘Just leave it - we can come back for it later,’ Billy had said.

The shot lingered on Paul, the camera, unsteady in his hands. He was looking from side to side, unsure of the words he wanted to say. Unsure, even, if anyone would find the footage - let alone use it or believe it.

‘It was an accident,’ he said. ‘I was playing around. I just wanted to make him panic. I didn’t think.’ He paused. ‘I didn’t think it would end… I didn’t mean for him to fall over! I didn’t mean for him to die… It was an accident. A stupid accident…’

A tear rolled down his cheek and dripped off onto his dirty tee-shirt.

‘Will people even believe me that it was an accident?’ He added, ‘I don’t want to go to prison… I don’t deserve to go to…’ He paused. ‘He doesn’t deserve to be dead. If I had just… If I had just pushed on to find water… If I hadn’t wasted time playing the idiot and… He wouldn’t be dead and we would be going back to camp now with water for everyone and…’

Paul stopped. Accident or not, he had killed someone.

‘Even if people know it was an accident; I didn’t mean to do it. I’ll be forever known as that guy who killed someone on the reality show…’

It started to dawn on Paul that, even if the authorities turned a blind eye to what he’d done, it would be following him for the rest of his life.

‘I can’t go back,’ he muttered to the camera. ‘I can’t go back…’ Paul paused again as a voice in the distance caught his attention.

Serenity.

‘Paul? Paul?! Where are you?! Paul?

Billy.

‘Paul? Call out… Let us know where you are…’

Paul turned the camera off.

*

Serenity and Billy arrived at the site of the accident with Alycia following with her camera filming everything. They stopped by the log which James had originally tripped back on.

‘I don’t see the camera. Is this definitely the right place?’ Serenity asked.

Billy didn’t need to answer her. Close to the log was the very same rock which James had hit his head upon. James’ blood dried to the hard surface by the sun’s unforgiving rays. Serenity followed Billy’s look and had her question answered.

‘Well we know he came this way.’ Billy pointed out, ‘The camera is gone.’

‘That would make sense then. Maybe he came to take it back to the camp? Could have wanted some time away from everyone - you know - to clear his head? And he knew we needed to come and get the camera…’

Billy looked at Serenity. There was a definite look of hope in her eyes but - had that been the case - how had they not crossed paths when he would have been making his way back to the camp with the camera? To get to this point, they had to pass some pretty dense jungle so - with camera in arms - there was no way he would have been cutting himself a new path.

Seeing Billy’s look, Serenity stopped talking a moment.

Billy looked around him and put his open hand to his mouth before he called out, ‘Paul!’ His voice echoed disturbing some nesting birds in the branches above which promptly took flight to the blue skies. There was no answer but - from the thicket across the way - a camera filmed everything.

Alycia spoke up, ‘Maybe he continued on to try and find some water?’

Billy and Serenity considered it a moment. They did need water and it made sense.

‘But would he have taken the camera?’ Billy asked.

‘Maybe he was hoping he could film his journey and have it end with success this time?’ Serenity said. A weird way of saying it but Billy knew what she meant; Paul could have wanted to film himself finding the water source as a way of redeeming himself for what had happened. It wouldn’t bring James back but - in his head - perhaps it was better than just sitting in camp as the man who’d accidentally killed someone. Billy shrugged.

‘So what now?’ Alycia asked.

The three of them stood in the clearing and looked around the dense jungle landscape. At this point their choice was simple: Go back to the camp and tell the others they couldn’t find Paul (or the camera) - maybe finding him there in the process - or push deeper into the island to try and find water and maybe even find Paul that way?

Billy took in a deep breath. He was already starting to feel the ill-effects of dehydration in his body and the temptation was to just sit down and hope that everything would work out for itself but - he knew that wasn’t an option. They all knew that wasn’t an option, more so now that help hadn’t been reached on the radio.

‘Well we need water,’ Billy said, still fighting the want to sit down. ‘I say we press on.’ He looked at Serenity. She looked just as tired as he felt. She nodded in response and looked towards Alycia. From behind her camera, unaware her response was caught from a second lens, she too agreed with the plan to go looking for water.

‘Okay well that’s agreed then,’ Serenity said. She told Billy to, ‘Lead the way.’

Billy nodded and turned his back on both of the women before proceeding in the direction Paul and James had originally been going in. There was a hope in his head that a water source would be close.

12.

‘What do you mean?’ Chris snapped at Billy the moment Billy and the others returned to camp with both the news they’d found water but not seen any trace of Paul, other than the fact he’d been and collected the camera.

‘He isn’t here?’ Billy asked.

Serenity said, ‘We should go back and look for him. He might have hurt himself and can’t get back…’

‘Fuck him. He knew the risks of going off solo. We were all told not to do it. The way I see it, he can fucking rot out there,’ Chris continued.

‘Is there any part of you that’s remotely human?’ Serenity snapped straight back at him. She, like everyone else, had grown tired of his bullish attitude towards the group. She had known when she signed on  that there’d be someone like this but she figured it would take a little more time for them to show their true colours. Not Chris though. He had been a prick from the moment he got there.

“Attacking” Chris head on wasn’t the way to go though and he shouted back, ‘I don’t want that murderous fuck in this camp with us!’

‘He’s hardly murderous,’ Donna - who had been quiet up to this point - spoke up.

‘Who the fuck asked you?’

‘We all live on this island together,’ Tracy said, ‘she has every right to speak just as much as you do.’

‘Is there a dead body?’ Chris asked the rhetorical question with his steely gaze pointed straight at Donna.

‘Well… Yes…’

‘And was it Paul who killed James thus creating said dead body?’

Donna didn’t answer.

Chris answered for her, ‘Yes, it was. Therefore it stands to reason that I have every right to call him a murderous fuck and - not only that - I am 100% right with what I am saying too.’ He turned to the rest of the group who were just standing there, looking at him. They were all dumbfounded by his reaction to the situation. If anyone was going to be killing anyone, they’d all figured it would have been him to be the one throwing their weight around and offing the others. ‘I don’t want him staying here with us. I don’t feel safe. Now - he has gone off to wherever. Good. Good riddance. If he comes back - I think we should just kick him straight back out again…’

‘No one is kicking anyone out. We are in this together,’ Vicky said. Up until now she had kept a backseat for most things. If someone said something, she agreed with it. The fact she was speaking up now surprised all around her.

‘In what together? We even sure what is going on anymore? We even sure this is a television show? I mean - where the fuck is the help when we called for it? For all we know, we are out here and we are alone. With that in mind - I don’t want him staying here.’ Chris folded his arms and waited for someone to challenge him. No one did. They just stood there in silence.

Billy snapped.

‘If anyone is leaving, maybe you should leave? You’re the one who isn’t happy about staying here with him. No one else has a problem.’ Billy looked to the others. ‘Right?’

They all shook their heads.

Billy continued, ‘So if you don’t like it…’

‘What? You going to kick me out, little man?’ Chris squared up to Billy as though ready to swing for him. Chris was a big man but Billy wasn’t exactly small himself and neither was he scared of taking a punch from the camp bully. If anything, Billy wanted it. If Chris swung first it meant Billy would then be “okay” to punch back and he’d make his punch much harder.

‘Everyone needs to calm down!’ Serenity got between the two men with her hands held up as official peacekeeper. Billy was the first to take a step back. ‘Why don’t we worry about this when we find him? Regardless of whether you want him here or not, we need to at least know whether he is okay.’ Serenity added, ‘If it was you out there, potentially in a state of shock, we’d come looking for you too…’

‘You might want to go and look for him but - I’m not wasting my energy on it. As it stands we have been left on this island and literally abandoned, unless of course someone has been able to get a hold of the emergency team?’ No one answered. ‘From my viewpoint, this is no longer a television show but a real case of being deserted on the island with no hope of being rescued…’

‘We haven’t been abandoned here… And even if we had - our families would come looking when we failed to come home…’ Billy interjected.

Chris looked at him and smirked. ‘Did you tell your family much about the show? Because I’m pretty sure the NDA made sure we were supposed to remain tight-lipped. And, even if you had talked to them, how are they going to know which island we’re on? Furthermore - how long before they get out here to find us? We would be long dead.’

Realising this wasn’t helping the present situation, Serenity tried to steer the conversation back to Paul. ‘Look, Paul is out there… For all we know he is hurt. He is almost certainly in shock from what happened and he most likely needs our help. Chris doesn’t want him in the camp but we are a democracy. So, with that in mind, we should take a vote. Majority rules.’ She paused long enough for people to raise their concerns over her plans yet no one did and so she continued, ‘All those in favour of going back out and looking for Paul, raise your hands.’ She raised her hand. In fact, the only ones who didn’t were Chris and - rather surprisingly - the camp doctor, Tracy.

‘It’s not that we shouldn’t find him but we’ve found the water source. Our main priority should be getting the water back here so that we can boil it… Dying of thirst will do no one any favours.’

Tracy’s point was valid. You couldn’t sacrifice a whole camp just for one. But, at the same time, neither did you have to completely turn your back on that one either. Even so - Serenity had spoken and it was a democracy and the vote was: Look for Paul (6), not look (2).

‘How about this,’ Billy said, ‘we break up… Some go looking for Paul, some go for water and others look for anything that we can eat as we really need to be thinking of that too.’

No one disagreed, not even Chris - much to Billy’s surprise.

‘So who’s doing what?’ Angela asked.

From deeper in the surrounding thicket around them, a camera caught the whole discussion as to who was responsible for each task.

*

It had been suggested that Chris and Billy should be the ones to find Paul, not because the women were incapable but on the off-chance there was something wrong and he needed to be carried back to camp. Thinking along those lines, Tracy had also said she’d be going with them. However, when Billy had first made the suggestion, he was also thinking about Paul’s mental state too - although, given Chris’ thoughts towards Paul at the moment, he figured it would be best to keep that to himself. Regardless, Chris had refused not that anyone was surprised. Digging his heels in firmly he simply reiterated the fact he didn’t want that murderous “asshole” in the camp. Instead Chris said he would go and fetch the water as - being stronger (his words) - he would be able to carry more than the women. Whilst the majority of the camp believed him to be a male chauvinistic pig, no one said anything for fear of dragging up another pointless, energy-sapping argument.

Billy would look for Paul and, with him, so would Donna. At the same time, they would both keep an eye out for potential food for the camp. Chris, Serenity and Angela would fetch the water - also to be looking out for food) and Vicky would remain at the camp in an effort to continue reaching the emergency team via the radio and keep the home-fires burning. Alycia had a choice of who to follow with the camera, despite Chris’ attempts to get her to put the fucking thing down.

There was a part of Alycia which believed Chris was right in telling her to stop filming. If the show wasn’t real, and they had been dumped there, then surely it would be better to have another pair of hands on deck, so to speak. The fact it was Chris who’d told her to put the camera down though was just the encouragement she needed to keep filming. To her hidden delight, it pissed him off. With regards to who she’d follow though - she said she would go with Billy and Donna as, if they found Paul, chances are it would make for better viewing figures.

‘Starting to feel like he did this to get the air-time,’ Chris had said as the group dispersed, each to go and undertake their chosen assignment. His comment had been left ignored and - soon enough - the main section of the camp had been left empty, with Vicky down on the beach front with the radio in hand.

On the next episode:

Quick-fire clips

A lump of flesh burns on the open fire.

Angela vomiting.

Chris picking up a burning log as though brandishing a baseball bat.

Paul, ‘I was just trying to help.’

And the tease from the end of the last episode replayed:

Serenity, blood pumping from a gash in her neck.

The credits roll.

Episode Five

This is “Survival”

13.

The camera was put on the floor of the camp and left to record from there. From where it was, it could see the fire and - beyond that - the area of the camp which had been set up as “sleeping quarters”. Paul walked into the shot and sat down next to the fire. Using a stick he’d picked up to the side of it, he gave the fire a stoke and smiled as his attention gave it reason to flicker a little brighter. Slowly, he started to add small sticks the group had collected up at various points. Only when the fire was properly lit did he reach into his pocket and pull out a small black piece of plastic. From the angle of the shot it would have been hard for viewers to make out what it was but - the producers, and other people in the know, would have recognised it as one of the camera’s memory cards. Paul looked at it for a moment and then tossed it onto the burning flames.

‘I don’t deny what I did. I know it was an accident and I know - if people saw the footage - they would know it to be an accident too but… I don’t want the clip being shown on those television shows… The ones which highlight when bad things happen… Like years ago when there was that clip of the television presenter who, during a live broadcast, accidentally had her hair set on fire thanks to the copious amounts of spray the make-up team had used… Every time they have one of those “bad things happen” shows they play that clip…  I don’t want to become a staple part of those shows. And I’m sure James wouldn’t have wanted it either.’

All the time Paul was speaking, his eyes were seemingly fixed to the flickering flames as though hypnotised by the dancing movement. In truth though he was watching the card burn. First the plastic started to bubble and then - slowly - it started to melt. Soon enough it would be nothing but a puddle of black.

‘And what if what they were saying earlier, before I left… What if they’re right? What if this isn’t a game show and we have been left here to fend for ourselves for real? No one is coming back and, eventually, we’re going to just starve…’

Paul paused and looked up to something out of the camera’s view. Slowly a smile spread across his face.

‘A way back into their good books?’

Paul jumped up from his kneeling position. Next to the fire, stuck into the ground, the group had left one of their machetes so there’d always be something close to hand with which to acquire more firewood. Gripping the handle, Paul pulled it up from the ground and walked from the camera’s view. From this angle all the viewers at home would be able to do, if they ever had the chance to watch the footage, would be to listen… The sound of the blade slicing through the air, the thud as it hit the flesh for the first time - going deep the bone… The squelching noises as Paul wriggled the blade free from where it was imbedded, along with the occasional scraping of metal against bone and then the whole scenario repeated until - it simply stopped.

Silence.

Paul walked back into the camera’s view with a severed arm in hand and a bloody machete in the other - a lump of flesh hanging off the latter. His face was splattered with goblets of red, as was his shirt. Without a word he tucked the blade down into his belt. Then he took his original seat by the camp’s fire and, still silent, laid the arm down into the flames. As the smoke billowing from the fire turned a darker black, the flames wasted no time in starting to lick away the flesh but - first - the singeing of what was once James’ arm hairs.

At the smell of the burning hair, Paul turned away and buried his nose against his arm. The stench of his own sweat being far more pleasant to inhale than the stink of the hair. A lesson there, he thought, to use the blade to give any other body parts a quick shave first. James wasn’t the hairiest though and Paul figured, with any luck, it wouldn’t be long before the smell of the hair would be replaced with the sweeter smell of cooking meat.

Meat, that was all that it was. Nothing more and nothing less. Some much needed protein for the group to enjoy. A way for those open-minded enough to forgive him for not only what he had done in the first place (the accident) but also for disappearing without first warning them where he was going.

He turned the arm within the fire to cook the other side. He had no idea how long it would take until it would be “done” but he knew - regardless - it would taste better without  having the flesh charcoaled.

Crispy bacon.

Subtitles: Angela

*

Unlike the other interviews, Angela’s interview was being conducted in a kitchen where she was preparing a dinner of some description. In the background of the shot, sitting patiently, are her four children. The kids, four boys, themselves were sitting so quietly and well-behaved that some of the viewers may have questioned whether they’d been threatened with some kind of punishment if they dared make a sound whilst their mother was being recorded.

‘Well I cook for these four each day with no problems and they’re all fussy. One wants this, one wants that, one only eats this and then the other is always stealing food from his brothers’ plates. I’ll probably be designated camp cook and - honestly - it will most likely be easier than this. At least on the island food will the limited so people can eat what is prepared and just be done with it! Like it or lump it, my mother used to say.’

She started to dish the various meals up. She spoke of making different meals for her children but - here - they all have fish fingers and chips, along with a healthy dollop of tomato sauce. The camera stayed stationary as she took the plates - two at a time - over to the kitchen table.

‘Fish fingers? Again?’ the oldest boy (12) said.

Angela turned to the camera, slightly red in the face.

‘The island will definitely be easier,’ she said.

*

Angela screamed when she saw Paul by the camp fire. It wasn’t the sight of Paul which made her shriek but rather the chunk of human flesh in his hands.

‘You have got to try this!’ he said.

14.

Angela was vomiting as Chris grabbed a burning log from the fire. He approached Paul with the bat raised as though it was a weapon, at the ready, to crack skulls. Paul scuttled backwards until he was pinned against a tree, his hands raised in the air.

‘I was just trying to help!’ Paul yelled.

Chris had seen red long before he had seen the mutilated body of James laying in camp but that had just been the final shove to push him over the edge. In his mind – what had happened to James hadn’t been an accident. What had happened to James had been intentional and now - the cooking of his body parts just proved that. Life on the island, even in this short time, had obviously snapped Paul’s mind and - like an aggressive animal, he needed to be put down.

‘Chris put the log down!’ Serenity cried out as Chris closed the gap between himself and Paul.

In the distance, out of view of the camera (still lying on the floor), Vicky screamed upon her return from the beach. She’d been drawn over by the shouting and was curious to know what was going on. The moment she saw, she wished she’d stayed away. The sight of the limbless body forever etched in her mind.

‘I told you he was a murderous piece of shit!’ Chris said. No matter what anyone said anymore - Paul was the enemy and needed to be dealt with before anyone else was hurt. ‘You all saying it was an accident but… What? He accidentally came along and cut James’ arm off the moment our backs were turned? Then - purely by accident - he tripped and tossed it into the fire. Then, from there, a lump of the arm found its way into his mouth and down his throat after being chewed several times?! What next? What once he has finished…’

‘… I heard everyone saying that we were actually stuck here! The show isn’t real and that we have been abandoned! I did us a favour! He wasn’t going to get up and start running around was he? And no one has found anything to eat… Why waste…’

Chris cut him off just as Paul had cut him off first, ‘… What once he has finished that body? He makes another and another and another until he is the only one standing?’

With Chris’ temper rising, Serenity was getting more frantic to try and calm everyone down. ‘We should wait for the others to get back and discuss what we do. We shouldn’t act on…’

Before she could finish the sentence, Paul pulled the machete out from where he’d previously tucked it and - in the blink of an eye - lunged forward, plunging it directly into Chris’ gut. Chris’ eyes widened in shock and he immediately dropped the log down to the earthy ground. He pulled himself back, away from the blade, and immediately covered his gushing wound with both hands before he dropped to his knees. The women all screamed as Paul got up with the machete still in his hands.

‘He was going to hurt me. You saw that, right? I had to do it! I didn’t have a choice! He forced me into it!’ Paul’s words were fast flowing and frantic, almost borderline manic. His tone tinged with the sound of desperation and worry as Chris just knelt there swaying back and forth… ‘He’s always had it in for me. If not me, it would be someone else annoying him. Would he take a log to them too? I’m not the bad guy. I haven’t done anything wrong!’

Chris slumped down face first in the dirt. The blood continued to spill from his gaping wound, only to be soaked into the dry earth beneath him.

‘What happened with James was an accident… You know that! I didn’t mean to hurt him! He hit his head on a rock… I didn’t hit his head with the rock! I only put him on the fire because I overheard you all saying we were stranded here and we needed to eat. We need to eat…’ Paul noticed the water Chris and the team had carried back from the source. ‘We have water now, thanks to you. And - thanks to me - we have food too… We can ration this sensibly and we can look for more food and keep fetching the water and… We could last long enough to be rescued!’

As the women took a step back from Paul, he took a step forward.

‘What… I’m not going to hurt you,’ Paul said. ‘You don’t think I’ll hurt you, do you?’ Paul said again, ‘I never wanted to hurt anyone! I didn’t want to hurt James! I didn’t even want to hurt Chris. James was an accident and Chris… That was survival! That is what we all signed up to do!’

‘Well why don’t you put the machete down,’ Serenity said. ‘We can go through what happened, we can clean the camp up and we can look to the future - you know, how we get out of this mess… You don’t need the machete to talk, do you?’

‘Well no but…’ Paul paused a moment and looked at the bloodied blade in the grip of his hands. Slowly he it let go. It dropped to the ground where the blade stuck into the dirt. ‘Is that better?’

‘We need to see if Chris is still alive,’ Serenity said.

‘What? Why?’ Paul looked to where Chris lay face-down. If he was dead - it was because he deserved to be. If he was alive then, surely it was better to let him die? ‘He was going to kill me…’

‘Because we aren’t murderers,’ Serenity said. ‘You aren’t a murderer, are you? James was an accident…’

‘It was an accident!’

‘That’s right.’ Despite the fear running through her veins, Serenity’s voice was as calm as can be. Better to try and sound soothing than to exacerbate the situation by being just as frantic as he.

Paul was just standing there looking lost with a vacant look in his eyes. His legs were visibly shaking - no doubt from both shock and adrenaline.

Slowly, Serenity walked over to where Chris lay. She knelt beside him and felt his neck for a pulse.

‘Is he alive?’ Vicky asked.

Vicky and Angela were standing close to one another. Unlike Serenity they weren’t doing as good a job at hiding their fear - not just of the situation but of Paul himself. Both had made sure there were enough obstacles between him and them that - if he suddenly turned on them - they’d have enough of a head start to hopefully get away. Although, with energy levels flagging, neither woman was optimistic at her chances of outrunning anyone else at that particular moment in time.

Serenity stood up. There was a solemn expression upon her face. She walked back to where the machete was sticking from the ground and lifted it out of the mud. Just as Paul had done so before, she slid it down between her pants and belt.

‘I think it’s best if I look after this,’ she said.

‘Is he dead?’ Vicky asked again.

‘Did you get anyone on the radio?’ Serenity asked, ignoring her question (and, therefore, answering it too). Vicky shook her head.

‘There’s no one out there.’

15.

Palm trees stretching to the sky. The perfect sea - the temperature of a warm bath - lapping at the white sanded shores. A heat that most people in cooler climates can but only dream.  Exotic wild birds of all colours perched in the jungle calling out to their prospective mates. To people looking in from the footage already secured by the producers - long before the contestants arrived - this truly was paradise in every sense of the word. Isolated from the hustle and bustle of everyday life and the world’s many problems in built up areas - the perfect place to escape. Yet in reality - the contestants hadn’t been on the island for even a week yet and already, abandoned, blood had been spilled and the ugliness of human nature had tainted the beautiful setting.

The rest of the group had long since returned to camp. From a distance they were first relieved to see Paul standing with the others but, when they got closer and learned what had happened, there wasn’t one person who didn’t wish that he hadn’t come back. At least, not like this.

There was a tension hanging heavy in the air. There was argument to call Paul’s actions self-defence - with regards to Chris - but at the same time, had it really been necessary? Tempers flare within people from time to time and whilst Chris’ temper may have been boiling over - would he have really used the branch or was it merely alpha-male posturing? A hope that the threat of violence would be enough to calm an aggressor. Too late to worry about that now though, what with his guts hanging out close to where they’d dragged his cold body. Just as James had been covered with leaves and foliage, so had Chris’ body. Although - that hadn’t stopped the ants and crabs swarming for an easy meal.

Billy was stoking the fire, lost in deep thought. His belly rumbling in the night air, certainly loud enough for the others to both hear and empathise with. With the exception of Paul, they were all hungry. Too much time had been wasted on looking for Paul when it should have been better off spent looking for food - be it something to hunt and kill or edible vegetation. Now they were in for another long, hungry night but - on the plus side, if there were any to be found in this scenario - at least they had water to drink.

Paul walked over to the fire, camera in hand, and sat opposite Billy, not that Billy looked up to acknowledge him.

‘Still recording?’ Billy asked.

‘Better to document everything, isn’t it?’

‘For whom?’

‘Whoever finds us…’

The two men sat in silence. Since Paul’s earlier manic-ness, he’d calmed down and appeared more normal than before although, had you seen him at the start of the adventure, he still didn’t seem fully himself.

‘What is it?’ Billy asked eventually.

‘It’s just protein. A source of protein. Nothing more and nothing less…’

Billy didn’t need to ask what Paul was talking about. The smell of James’ burned flesh still lingered in the air - not that, at this stage of hunger, it wasn’t an unpleasant aroma.

‘You know the girls wanted to tie you up?’ Billy said.

When Billy, Donna, Tracy and Alycia had returned to the camp - they’d had a group meeting (without Paul there) to discuss what they should do and, although he walked around free now, the majority of the vote had been to tie Paul up; dismantle some of the camp and use the string they’d found to bind him. It wasn’t to be cruel. It wasn’t even a form of punishment. It was because they were genuinely worried about his mental state and whether he would turn on them too - despite what he was saying about the accident and killing Chris in self-defence. In fairness, the Chris scenario could be seen in both ways - one being murder and the other self-defence. Paul’s only argument against murder was that, if he had meant to actually kill him, he would have continued to stab him…

‘Kinky.’

Paul laughed. Billy didn’t.

‘So why didn’t they?’ Paul asked.

‘We can’t get hold of the emergency team. We don’t know if they’re out there and the radios just aren’t working or whether this is all some big… Well… I don’t know what. The point is we are alone. Could be for days, weeks, months… Could be forever. We just going to keep you tied up forever? Or - are we going to see if you help us out…’

Paul cut him off. ‘Help you out? I helped out! Look at…’

Billy raised his hand to silence him.

‘We need all hands on deck, so to speak, so tying you up not only makes us lose a bit of our camp - or at least have it more un-sturdy - but it also means we lose a pair of hands which we may come to need…’ Billy paused a moment. ‘But know this; at the moment the women are apprehensive of you. I’m not sure what I think. What I do know though is that - if you try anything - I will put you down.’ He looked Paul dead in the eyes. Paul momentarily frowned as he mulled the words over and then - just as quickly as the frown had appeared - it disappeared.

‘What happened happened,’ Paul said eventually as the fire crackled between them. ‘If I could take it back, I would. But I can’t. What I did here, with James, may seem macabre but… It is protein. To survive this - for however long we’re out here - we need to eat and maintain our strength for whatever lays ahead. That meat, for that’s all it is, won’t stay good forever. You have a choice to make, you all do. Eat to survive or carry on trying your luck in hunting for foraging.’ Paul continued, ‘I can cut the meat up so it doesn’t even look like it’s….’ He chose his words carefully before continuing, ‘… anything but meat.’

Billy’s glare hardened in the moonlight. As the flicker of the fire’s flames was reflected in them, there was a glimmer of pure hatred for the man sitting opposite him. This “man” who found it so easy to take not one, but two, human lives and then to feast upon the flesh soon after. A quick-flash thought that perhaps it would be better to not tie him up but do as Chris had intended and put him down like a rabid animal.

‘Just stay the fuck away from me,’ Billy hissed. He stood up and walked away from the fire place, heading for where the women were grouped together as they all desperately sought some much needed rest.

On the next episode:

Quick-fire clips

The group gathering large rocks on the beach.

Angela and Vicky hunting a wild boar.

The two bodies lying side by side.

Paul saying, ‘It’s just protein.’

The credits roll.

Episode Six

Teamwork & Choices

16.

Another day and another sleepless night for the majority of the camp. Whereas the previous nights’ had been hunger, the cold and the strange noises coming from within the jungle – this night’s lack of sleep was for a different reason. Or rather an extra reason. Most were too nervous to close both eyes with Paul so close and yet, despite the lack of sleep, the group had risen with the new day and a more determined desire to survive. Once again the group was split to carry out the tasks. The bigger group being the one in which Paul was a part of.

Angela and Vicky had wandered off into the jungle in the hope of finding something to eat. Armed with a knife, a machete - and even a bag they had found on the island shore washed up from far away - they were hoping to find something; be it vegetables, fruit or even meat - such as one of the island’s many snakes. So long as they could go back with something for them to eat. Anything just so they didn’t have to hear Paul say, ‘It’s only protein’ again - referring to the slowly rotting bodies of Chris and James. At least Paul had a hearty breakfast that day. Although neither were trained as camera operators, they were shown the basics and had taken what had been James’ camera with them. The use of the cameras being something else the group had discussed over the camp fire that morning. The vote of which had gone in favour of the group to continue recording after Paul had reminded them that - if they do, and they had been left alone to die - there would be evidence of what had happened to them.

The rest of the group - Paul, Billy, Tracy, Donna, Serenity and Alycia - had stayed behind at camp. They’d enough water to last a few days before having to go back for replenishments and that gave them enough time to hang back and make some adjustments to the camp. Donna had suggested more of the group went in search for food, but in another direction, but Billy refused. He knew it was a sensible idea for another couple of them to go on the hunt - the more the merrier - but, he wanted more eyes on Paul, just in case…

The early hours of the morning were spent gathering large rocks. The two men fetched and the women put them in position on the white sands, spelling out the word “S-O-S”. Donna and Tracy had made a passing comment about the men doing the heavy lifting whilst they were perfectly capable of doing it but Billy shot them down. He wasn’t trying to be a hero in doing the “heavy” work, just - in his mind - was being a gentleman. He also had more bulk to his weight than the women and, therefore, a little more energy to burn. Paul didn’t get a say in what he did; Billy told him what he would be doing and that was that, especially as he had excess energy after his breakfast.

‘It’s just protein,’ he’d said again.

With the rocks in place, spelling out the signal, the camp was also spread out wider. Whereas before it was fairly small and contained, big enough just for them to get by in, now it spread further down the outskirts of the jungle where the woods turned to the beaches.

There were two fires burning bright, one in each end of the camp, with enough kindling to ensure they stayed lit for the foreseeable future. The group hadn’t seen any boats or planes since they’d arrived but it didn’t mean they wouldn’t come by. And, if they did, there would be signals bright enough to be seen by them. With any luck the captain of the ship would know these islands were meant to be deserted and, if they saw the fire, it would be enough for them to come and investigate closer.

Another benefit of the extended camp was that it gave somewhere for Paul to stay that was out of the way of the women, not that it had been “sold” to him as a way of keeping him segregated. Billy had said it was an area for him and Paul and that the women then had their own space. The thought process being that if Paul tried anything, Billy was big enough to deal with it himself.

All in all it was several hour’s work but no one disagreed that it hadn’t been productive. If the fires, or sign, were seen by cruising planes or nearby vessels then - brilliant. If they’d simply made their camp bigger and given themselves more space - no harm. All that was needed now, to make their day as good as it could be under the circumstances, was for Angela and Vicky to bring some food back for everyone.

The last job they had to do, whilst waiting for Angela and Vicky’s return, was to sort Chris and James’ corpses.

The two bodies were also dragged further away from the original camp-site and left buried under foliage. In an ideal world the group would have buried them properly out of respect, and to stop the decaying flesh from attracting more bugs than those that already plagued the area. This wasn’t an ideal world though and whilst they had their hands to dig through the dirt - the ground was simply too hard thanks to the sun’s rays turning the mud rock-like.

Standing on the beach - backs to the water - Paul patted Billy on the shoulder.

‘A job well done then,’ Paul said.

Billy wanted to tell him to get his dirty hands off him but resisted the urge for the sake of keeping peace. Instead he smiled as best as he could before he asked Donna if she’d brought the radio down from the camp. In answer to his question, Donna was already standing a few feet away - ankle deep in the warm waters - trying the radio again. Still - there was nothing but the unwelcome sound of silence.

‘If they don’t find food for you today…’ Paul looked at Billy. ‘You need to keep your strength up if you’re going to survive.’

Billy looked at Paul. He couldn’t tell if Paul was being genuinely concerned for his wellbeing or whether it was more of a threat.

‘Hopefully they’ll find something.’ Billy replied.

17.

Angela and Vicky were both tired from walking but neither wanted to stop for a rest, nor did they want to turn back - not empty handed. Instead they continued into the jungle - pushing further than before in this new direction whilst recounting stories of home to try and lift one another’s dwindling spirits although their attempts at cheering each other up also came with a downside… They were reminding themselves of the lives they’d left behind and potentially were never to see again: Their children, their partners, their family, their friends, their pets and - in some crazy way - even their jobs. The realisation of what had been lost weighed heavily on both girls and the free-flowing conversation soon came to a stand-still. But, silence wasn’t a bad thing.

Angela stopped dead in her tracks, a few feet away from Vicky who was still struggling to get to grips with the camera. Not paying attention to the path being followed, Vicky almost walked into Angela before she noticed.

‘What is it?’ Vicky asked.

Angela shushed her quiet with a gesture of finger to lip. Her eyes were squinting into one of the bushes up ahead, scanning for something which had attracted her attention due to the noise it was making within. Leaves were rustling and small twigs were snapping as something - potentially large - was foraging within.

Vicky raised the camera and filmed the bushes. Unable to see what was making the noise for her own eyes, she was curious to see if the camera would be able to pick anything up but - nothing.

Angela suddenly slapped Vicky on the side and then pointed into the thicket with the same hand. Through a small crack in the leaves there was definitely something wandering within. Something large.

Angela whispered, ‘I think it’s a pig…’

A large boar was in the bushes, running its snout amongst the leaves and general debris in the search of food of its own. Only when the two women got a better glimpse of it did they realise the true size of the creature (up to their waists) and the trouble they’d have tackling it on their own. Now - and only now - did they wish the groups had been split differently. If just a couple more people had come with them then there’d be a chance to take it on but - with just a knife and machete between them and the tusks this thing had - this was going to be a battle they couldn’t win. At least, not without potentially getting hurt themselves. They knew it and, as it carried on searching for food despite the humans watching, the boar knew it too.

‘What now?’ Vicky asked.

Angela shrugged. They both knew that the moment they did try and get closer the animal would either run or stand its ground and attack. There was nothing they could do but watch their potential meal as it slowly meandered deeper into the thicket, continuing its own search.

Angela said, ‘Now we go back and tell the others what we saw and - tomorrow - we come back out better armed and prepared to deal with something like that…’

The women had hoped to find a snake or - as seen in similar shows that had aired before this particular one - a wild turkey, maybe even a juvenile cayman crocodile. They hadn’t expected to run into a wild boar and nor had they expected it to have been so large.

An old nature show sprung to Angela’s mind. It had been playing in the background whilst she’d been cleaning up after her messy kids. A famous Scottish actor, who’s name she couldn’t place, was narrating about the wild boar as - on the show - a group were marching through a woodland. So many facts about the animal including the startling one that suggested wild boar could be as dangerous to hunt as hunting a bear! With their quick minds and unpredictable nature it was hard to plan an attack. What made it worse was their sharp tusks and ability to charge a person with little to no provocation.

‘Do you think they’d be annoyed we didn’t at least try and catch it? Should we say we had and that it ran away?’ Vicky asked.

Angela shook her head.

‘They’d be more frustrated if we’d tried and got hurt. That wasn’t a two-person job and they’d know that.’ Angela felt confident saying that now Chris wasn’t around to argue the toss with them. He’d have probably been up for charging in and taking the damned thing on one to one.

Feeling deflated - and with their personal water supply starting to run dry - Angela looked back in the direction they’d come from originally. They’d been out for a good number of hours now and come across nothing. For an island which - according to the show runners - had enough plant and animal life for them to sustain themselves, it was all doing a very remarkable job of remaining hidden from them. But then, the show runners had said they’d be easily contactable in case of emergencies too and yet that turned out not to be true so - maybe - there was not enough nutrients on the island to sustain a person? With the horrible feeling they’d just let a meal walk away from them, the thought they’d been left to starve on the island was even more sobering for Angela.

‘I think we should start to make our way back,’ Angela said. ‘We don’t want to be stuck out here when darkness starts to fall.’

‘Okay.’

For Vicky, the sight of the boar - and how large it was - had set her on edge. She’d expected animals, sure, but she hadn’t expected to see something so big. In her mind she was thinking - what else is in the jungle and just how big do these animals grow?

Aware of her own mood, Angela tried to lift spirits once more, ‘It’s probably a good idea it got away?’

‘It is?’

‘Well we don’t have bread and we don’t have condiments so… Can’t exactly have a bacon butty, can we?’

Vicky laughed despite the mention of a bacon butty causing her stomach to rumble.

‘Least I’ll be able to fit into my old jeans when I get home again,’ Angela continued, still trying to cheer (mostly) herself up.

‘Don’t say that,’ Vicky said, ‘I’d not long since bought myself a new wardrobe… Now most of it will be too big!’

‘Well that wasn’t smart thinking,’ Angela said.

‘Charity shops will think it’s Christmas when I drop it all into them,’ Vicky said as - slowly - the two women started to make their way back to the camp. As their feet and legs continued to ache from the exercise, the smiles slowly faded as - once again - they came to realise all that had been lost by coming to the island.

With a dark cloud metaphorically forming over her head, Vicky couldn’t help but to ask, ‘Do you think they’ll be mad we didn’t get any food?’

‘Disappointed. Not mad.’

Vicky continued, ‘Do you think you could really kill an animal?’

At home the thought of killing an animal wouldn’t have crossed Angela’s mind but out here it was different; it was survival. ‘At this point,’ she answered, ‘I’ll do anything.’

Back at camp - dinner sizzled over the fire’s hot flames…

18.

Paul ripped the cooked meat into smaller pieces once it was cooked through. Billy watched on in horror, unable to comprehend what he was witnessing. Without a word Paul rolled a piece of the cooked flesh between his fingers and put it in his mouth. He closed his eyes as he started to lazily chew.

Billy half-expected the man to suddenly retch and gag, maybe even bring a little of the meat back up but - instead - he swallowed slowly as though it was the best thing he’d eaten for days. It was Billy who had to suppress a gagging motion as Paul ate another piece of what had once been a fellow human being.

As Paul swallowed the second bite he noticed that Billy was watching him from over the crackling fire of the camp that they shared.

‘It tastes a little like pork,’ Paul said without being asked. ‘A stronger-tasting pork, I guess. And slightly bitter…’ He ate another piece and spoke with his mouth full. ‘You’re looking at me disgusted but how much longer before you succumb and try some? At what point of starvation will you try the taste of human flesh? Will you be so weak that you have to be handed some? Will the meat even still be good by then? Temperatures soaring, sun blazing… It won’t stay good enough for human consumption forever and then what - you’ll have nothing.’ Paul shrugged. ‘You look at me with disgust but I’m the one who’ll have energy and will be the last man standing. I’m the one, who with a full belly, will be able to venture out and hunt for something non-human to eat… You look at me with disgust but I look at you as though you’re wasting an opportunity to increase your chances of survival.’

Billy didn’t say anything. Any other day he would tell Paul he was barking mad, properly insane, but - given their current situation he was making sense in some strange way. If this was a television show and they could get hold of the producers to report emergencies and - if needed - get themselves evacuated then there would be no reason to even consider masticating upon the flesh of the dead but, the way it was looking as though they’d been left to rot there… Maybe Billy was looking a gift horse in the mouth and - actually - the dead bodies were some kind of blessing in disguise. Paul could see Billy working through the various thought motions by the look upon his face. Without a further word Paul ripped one of the last pieces that he had in his hand into two smaller slithers. Taking the smaller of the two with his other hand, he handed it towards Billy. Billy hesitated a moment but - then - took the offering from Paul and, quickly, put it into his mouth. With his eyes closed, Billy started to chew.

Unlike Paul, he gagged as he swallowed.

‘The good news about being sick now,’ Paul said, ‘is that you have nothing in your stomach to really bring up…’

Even so, Billy managed to keep it down.

‘What do you think?’ Paul asked. ‘I think pork…’

‘Not a word of this,’ Billy said quietly.

Paul smiled and motioned across his mouth with his hand as though he was zipping his lips shut. Then, with an invisible key, he locked an invisible lock and threw the invisible key over his shoulder.

‘We’re just surviving,’ Paul said after going through the motions. ‘Is that really so bad?’ He grinned - not because Billy had joined him eating the flesh but because he hadn’t noticed the camera which had recorded the whole thing. At least with Billy’s actions - if they did somehow survive this and get back to civilisation - not all eyes would be on Paul anymore.

‘Did you want me to cook up some more?’ Paul asked. ‘Plenty more to go around…’

Billy didn’t say yes but neither did he say no. Paul took the knife and went for a walk back to where the bodies lay.

‘And on tonight’s menu, we have Roasted Chris.’

On the next episode:

Quick-fire clips

Tracy asking if Billy had tried the meat.

The group arguing.

Tracy screaming for someone to bring her some cloth, or something similar.

A shot of the radio. The sound of static coming from it briefly.

The credits roll.

Episode Seven

Divide & Conquer

19.

The following day had been dedicated to finding food which hadn’t been previously murdered by Paul. The news of the wild boar had brought excitement amongst the survivors that there was the chance of a decent feast, if only they could find the beast and - without incident - take it down. But so far, a good few hours of walking, had yielded no joy. Of the group, only Serenity had stayed behind at camp - her task being to keep the fires burning.

‘Don’t worry too much if one goes out,’ Billy had told her, ‘as we can always relight it using the other fire but - yeah - if you can keep them both lit then… great…’

‘I’ll try my best,’ she’d promised in return.

The rest of the group had gone on the hunt. The idea being that there would be strength in numbers and if they did find the boar - or anything else - they’d have an easier time surrounding and trapping it. A conversation they’d had, before leaving, was who would be the one to kill whatever they stumbled across. It was Paul who volunteered, not that he was invited to make the kill. No one was in a hurry to hand him another knife or machete. As it was, Billy said he would do it just to save the arguing.

‘I don’t mind cooking it,’ Angela had said despite, a day before, saying she’d have no issues in killing anything if it meant survival. But then, if people had the choice - most would still probably decline. Most.

‘And it was definitely around here?’ Donna asked Angela who, in response, nodded.

‘It was in that thicket.’ She pointed.

‘And did you see what direction it went?’ Donna continued.

‘It just went deeper in…’

‘Great.’

Donna looked at Billy who was looking at the ground.

‘So now what?’ she asked as though he was designated group leader although no such announcement had been made.

‘Can’t see any shit on the ground,’ Billy said.

‘Shit?’ Tracy couldn't help but overhear what Billy had said.

‘Well if there was a lot of shit around here we’d know it’s a place the boar comes back to a fair amount, right? But - looking around - I can’t see anything…’

‘You even know what boar faeces look like?’ Tracy asked. She wasn’t being funny in the slightest. In her line of work, and the world she’d come from, she’d never even seen a wild boar - let alone knew what it’s muck looked like. For all she knew it could have been little pellets or it could have been huge balls of dung. From the look on Billy’s face though - it was clear he had no idea what he was looking for.

‘Shit’s shit, right?’

‘So what now?’ Donna asked. Her mood had taken a severe downturn from the lack of food over the last few days and her “happy go lucky” personality had slipped drastically. In fairness to her though, she wasn’t the only one who was struggling to remain positive.

‘This is ridiculous,’ Paul said, ‘there’s meat at the camp which will suffice for now. Everyone is tired. Everyone is hungry… All we have to do now is go back and tuck into a nice slap-up meal of James and Chris… We get our energy levels up. Right? Then we come back out and we carry on this search but - I don’t know - to me if feels like everyone is getting snappy and, why? Because you’re hungry. Honestly - what you think about the meat back at the camp. It’s not that bad.’ Paul turned to Billy. ‘Tell them.’

Billy froze as all eyes turned to him.

‘You tried it?’ Tracy asked.

Angela was curious to know, ‘When?’

‘Yes. I ate some…’

‘Well how much is some?’ Tracy continued.

‘What does it matter?’ Billy snapped. ‘Yes, I tried some. Why? Because what Paul was saying made sense about keeping our energy levels up. At the moment we don’t know what is happening. For all we know we have been left here to fucking die by the people who brought us here. Why? I have no idea. Do I want to know why? I couldn’t care less. All I am worrying about right now is that we’re getting weaker and hungrier all the time we’re not eating, yes? What happened to those guys - not good but, I can’t bring them back.’ Billy looked at Tracy and continued, ‘You’re the doctor and you couldn’t save them either so now, to me, they have gone from people to meat and…’

Tracy cut him off, ‘And what if we’re rescued tomorrow.’

Billy smiled. ‘And what if we’re not?’ He added, ‘You’re a doctor. You know how important it is to eat. What - you plan to live off snails and bugs?’

‘No, I plan to find this boar…’

‘Which could well be on the other side of the island by now for all we know.’ Billy stopped talking. He looked around at the other members of the group. They were all staring straight back at him. ‘So what? You want to keep walking on the off-chance we stumble across the boar? What about when darkness comes and we still don’t find it? What then? Keep looking through the night? I have no issues searching for food until we find it but you’re all tired. Why? Because you have no energy. You want energy? You need to eat and - right now - the best chance you have for that is back at the camp site and, conveniently, already cut up into easy to manage pieces…’

Tracy shook her head. ‘I’m not eating a person.’

Without waiting for Billy to say anything else, she started to head back to camp. Donna and Vicky followed close behind - both equally as disgusted as Tracy had been despite not saying anything.

Billy looked at Angela who, in turn, looked to the ground. He took that as a sign she’d at least keep her strength up by eating whatever it took to do so.

Billy glared at Paul and told him, ‘You’re a fucking idiot.’ Then, Billy called after the women, ‘You want to go back to the camp? Fine! Do that but that doesn’t get you fed either, unless you’re willing to do as I did to survive. Because that’s the only reason I did it! Survival! We are on this island and - whether you want to admit it or not - we are alone!’

20.

Serenity had left the radio - and camera - on the beach whilst she went scouring the area for some more kindling for the fires. She didn’t need to film herself collecting firewood and wasn’t even sure why the group had left her with the camera when it would have been better for them to take it along with the other, which Alycia was still using. They’d more than likely have something more worthwhile to film than her picking up sticks and - occasionally - trying to contact someone on the stupid radio. With regards to the collecting of the wood; instead of taking them to the two camps, she was collecting it all up and putting it in a pile for the rest of the group to help move it later. There seemed little sense in wasting all her energy going back and forth when - currently - both camps had enough kindling to get by with should one of the fires start to die.

With the next set of sticks dropped on the already fairly substantial pile, Serenity grabbed her flask of boiled (and cooled) water from where she’d set it and took a sip. She may have only been collecting small bits of wood but even in this heat it was thirsty work. After a second swig, this time swirled around in her dry mouth before being swallowed, she walked back to where she’d left the radio and camera.

She dropped down to her arse and sat in the deep sand as she lifted the camera from beside her where it had left an imprint. Pointing it towards the ocean, she started to narrate over the top of the footage she was acquiring.

‘I’m not sure if anyone will ever see this footage or whether we’re just wasting our time making it. Given the fact there is so much rubbish washed up a little further down the beach, it doesn’t look like people come by here too often for clean-up operations. Doubt they’ll find the cameras, or our bodies…’ It was a morbid thought, to think of yourself as dying and being left to decompose to nothing, and yet it was one which was very much stuck in Serenity’s mind. ‘Look at it… Perfect, still waters… The clear skies… The way the sun glistens down on the sea and shimmers off the surface… The white sands leading to where the tide rolls in and out… It’s so pretty. So picturesque but…’ She turns the camera to herself, unsure as to whether she was even in the picture, let alone as to whether she was in focus. ‘… It’s a living nightmare,’ she continued. ‘This place is Hell.’

With no warning, the radio clicked through with some static as though there was another device trying to communicate with it. Up until now it had been silent so the noise was enough to make Serenity’s heart skip a beat - both from the fact it had made a noise and the excitement of someone possibly trying to radio them. Quickly she set the camera down and grabbed the radio from the sands.

‘Hello?’ She spoke into it, fast and frantic, ‘Hello? Can anyone hear me?’

No response, not even static.

Undeterred, Serenity continued, ‘Hello? If you can hear me - we’re stuck on an island and…’ How do you explain all that had happened? ‘We need help!’ It was the easier option. They could always explain when help got to them. ‘Hello? Is anyone there?’ She shook the radio out of frustration and said again, ‘Hello? Is there anyone there? Can anyone hear me? We need help!’ There was another blast of static and then - nothing… except the sound of a footstep sinking in the soft sands behind Serenity. With a jump she span on the spot to see who was behind her.

‘Oh thank Go…’ Her words were cut short with a quick slash of a metal blade across her throat. Eyes wide with shock, she stumbled back with her hands raised to her open throat before she tripped and landed hard on the sand. All she could do was stare at the blue skies of paradise as she tried to hold the gap in her throat as closed as possible. Anything to stop the flow of her blood and - ultimately - the loss of her life.

The blade used to slice her, the same knife as used by the camp, was dropped to the sand with a splattering of claret. The attacker’s footprints left in the sand as they left Serenity to die.

The radio clicked: static.

21.

Tracy screamed out, ‘Someone get me a cloth!’ She ran down the beach towards where Serenity lay, her hands still stuck to her throat and coated in red. Donna came running behind Tracy, pulling her own tee-shirt off as she did so - a bra saving her from being completely topless.

Tracy’s urgency only stopped when she got to Serenity’s side. The white sands around her were soaked red. Serenity’s eyes fixed on the sky. Her gaze unmoving. Unblinking. Her skin - despite the sun’s rays - pale and lips blue. Donna stopped a few feet away when she noticed Tracy’s lack of motion. Tracy didn’t need to say it. Donna slumped back to the ground and started to weep - not just because she knew Serenity was gone but because she knew a similar fate would no doubt be coming for them too. Ten had become seven. When would seven become six, or five, or…

‘We need to get the body back to the camp,’ Tracy said. As she did so, she broke Donna’s panicked thought process away from the somber direction it had headed.

‘But who did it to her?’ Donna asked as she fought back the tears.

Tracy looked to the sand. Her eyes fell upon the blood-stained blade before drifting back to the slash across Serenity’s scrawny throat. Serenity had been the only one to remain at camp. Tracy didn’t say it out loud, there was no need, but it stood to reason that maybe the prospect of being stranded there, slowly starving to death and never seeing loved ones again, had been too much for Serenity to bear? Easier and - in the long run - less painful to take her own life? It did no one any favour to speculate as to what had been going through her mind. All they could do was put the body back with the others and push forward with their own survival. Take one day at a time and ensure they didn’t end up the same way.

Tracy repeated herself, ‘We have to get the body back to the camp and out of the sun.’ She looked at Donna who had made no attempt to get up. ‘Help me,’ she said.

Slowly Donna pulled herself back up to her feet.

‘And how long before Paul and Billy start to eat her?’ Donna asked. There was very evident fear in her eyes. Tracy had no words of comfort for her. She shrugged.

*

By the time Billy, Paul and Angela arrived back to the camp with Alycia - Serenity’s body had already been dragged up from the beach to where the other bodies lay buried beneath the foliage. The three women were sitting by the fire which was now just a glow of embers.

Angela was first to notice Serenity’s body. Billy had been more concerned about how he was going to be greeted back at the camp by the women after what Paul had told them about his eating of the flesh to notice anything else. He only noticed when Angela broke down in floods of tears - the shock of seeing another corpse, just as Donna had reacted.

Confused, both Billy and Paul followed Angela’s gaze to the third covered body. They all looked back to the three women by the fire as Alycia lowered the camera, tears of her own streaming from her eyes.

Billy wanted to ask what had happened but wasn’t sure if the women wanted to even hear his voice at this stage. Mercifully Tracy didn’t wait for him to ask.

‘We found her on the beach next to a bloody knife. Her throat had been slashed open with what looked to be a single cut.’

Billy was just as confused as Donna had been. Serenity had been alone. Who could have done this to her? The thought of suicide being far from his mind.

Tracy continued, ‘I thought that she’d taken her own life. I thought she was too scared to face whatever it is we are all to face and so took the other route… Why wouldn’t I think that? She was alone. We were all together. The island is uninhabited and…’ She wiped a tear from her cheek with the back of her shaking hand. ‘I thought we were alone.’

‘What are you talking about?’ Billy asked eventually.

Vicky held up an open envelope. A typed letter was poking from the top of it. Her hand was also shaking as Billy reached for it.

Tracy turned to Alycia and warned her, ‘You need to record this.’

‘What?’ Alycia was just as confused as the three others she’d returned to camp with.

‘They said we have to record everything,’ Tracy continued.

Alycia snapped back, ‘They also said they’d be on the other end of a radio in case of emergency! Yet I don’t hear them, do you? Why the fuck are we all so worried about filming when…’

‘Wait…’ Billy called out as he scanned through the letter he’d pulled from the envelope. ‘… Tracy’s right. We need to record this.’ He looked up from what he’d been reading. There was genuine concern in his eyes which Alycia couldn’t help but to notice. Reluctantly, she raised the camera and focused in on him.

‘Okay,’ Billy said, ‘everyone sit down…’

On the next episode:

Quick-fire clips

A shot of the ocean and a female screaming.

The group sitting quiet around the fire.

The letter burning.

The credits roll.

Episode Eight

The Rules Have Changed

22.

The note was typed out and detailed all that the camp needed to know. There was no question as to whether it was genuine or not, given the fact they were literally abandoned on a deserted island. Still, to be sure, the bottom of the letter was hand-signed by the main producer of the show they were on.

Billy had read it out to the rest of the group who still needed to hear it. Tracy, Donna and Vicky had read it for themselves but they still sat around to hear the reaction of the others. Even if they hadn’t wanted to though - where else would they have ventured off to?

The letter started off by welcoming them to the island and hoping that they were enjoying their stay so far. It reminded them to capture all aspects of island life with the cameras provided or else there would be severe repercussions. It then went on to warn that - ahead of their arrival - various cameras had been placed around on the island anyway, close to where a “team of experts” predicted the group would have got to; a little dig to the group’s poor efforts of finding food - it isn’t a hard island to both monitor or navigate with the necessary skills.

From the moment he’d started reading the letter, Billy had felt his blood pressure spike. He just wanted to toss the paper into the fire and watch it burn yet he knew it wasn’t an option to do so. They had to know what it said and they had to know what it said from their own eyes, just in case Tracy and the others had read it and somehow misinterpreted it.

‘This is fucking bullshit,’ he couldn’t help but say between reading the lines.

‘Keep reading it,’ Alycia said.

Billy glared at her for daring to speak. She’d done nothing wrong obviously but - now anyone and everything felt as though it was a direct challenge to him. He’d wanted to do this show for a laugh, maybe even lead to some kind of new career. The money offered for “surviving” was good too. Now what? Now he was stuck here with the producers attempting to play some kind of game with them.

Billy turned his attention to Tracy and asked, ‘This is a joke, right?’

‘You need to keep reading,’ Tracy said. Another tear rolled down her cheek. Had she not been so dehydrated and mentally exhausted, there would have probably been more. In a way - given what the letter said - she was glad there weren’t though. All things considered, now especially, she didn’t want to be seen as being weak.

Billy sighed. Before he had a chance to continue reading, Paul leaned over and snatched the letter from him. Unlike Billy, he just wanted to know what the damned thing said. Enough with the small talk, just get it read. He continued.

The letter stated that the show is a survival one but it wasn’t how they thought. They would not be working together to survive as a group. The show-runners wanted only one survivor and - when there was only one left standing - that would be the person they’d come to get once the flare was let off.

Paul looked to Tracy and asked, ‘Flare?’

Tracy pointed to a metal box across the way, close to a thicket. Inside there were two flares. One to let the producers know it was over and one as a spare, just in case. The letter detailed that the producers would hate for the survivor to get all that way into the process just to then be properly stranded.

‘What are they saying?’ Angela asked, panic clear in her tone.

Paul read on. The real show that they were on was a survival one, that much was true, but the producers didn’t want them working as a team. Instead they wanted them pitted against each other and the winner would be the last man (or woman) standing. In short - they had to kill each other.

‘This is a joke, right?’ Angela asked. Without even realising it she found herself backing away from the rest of the group, unsure of whether these people would still be her “friends” once the letter was complete or whether they’d suddenly turn on her. After all - no one wanted to die and no one wanted to be left on the island; the latter being something which the letter also spoke of.

The letter said that they would be alone for the duration. There would be no evacuation for anyone until it was the last person and the others were terminated. If they used the flare to call upon the evacuation team, before all but one was dead, then all would be killed. If, however, there was one person left standing - the promised fee they’d originally signed on for would be trebled. Win freedom, win riches.

To answer Angela’s question as to whether it was a joke or not, the letter spoke of the body on the beach being proof that they weren’t messing around.

‘They’d waited for the right time and then,’ Tracy said, shaking, ‘they came on to the island and killed Serenity to prove a sick point…’

‘We could just let the flare up,’ Vicky said. ‘We could let it up and we could talk to them when they got here to get us… Yes?’

‘How do we do that when they made it very clear they’d kill us all? And the fact they mentioned they’ve already hidden more cameras around? They’ve been watching us the whole fucking time,’ Billy said. As he spoke, his eyes were scanning the area around him curious to see if there were any cameras in plain view. Something that - maybe - he could flip the bird to just to show them what he thought of their game.

‘So they want us to kill each other,’ Paul said quietly.

‘It would appear so,’ said Donna.

‘So I’m not in trouble.’

The group turned to Paul. It was a twisted way of looking at it but - when it came down to it - no, he wasn’t in trouble.

‘If anything I’ve just got a head start on the game,’ he said as a small grin appeared across his face. The grin disappeared as quickly as it had arrived with the aid of a knife thrusted into his chest. All but Billy screamed. Paul staggered back looking down at the knife still stuck in him with only the handle visible. He looked from the knife to Billy, tears in his eyes. As he did so he tried to say something but only blood came from his mouth.

‘I’m sorry…’ Billy said.

Paul sat down before he fell down. From there, he laid back in the dirt – as if even that had taken all his energy. Billy turned away from him. He didn’t want to see him die. He hadn’t wanted to even stab him but… The women - all looking scared - were staring at him. Donna had her hand on a blade, ready to defend herself. Tracy had the other machete and was also ready to use it.

‘I didn’t want to do it,’ Billy said to them, unsure as to whether they’d even hear his words. Behind him, Paul’s hands slumped to the side of his body and a final breath escaped from between his lips. ‘You heard what he was saying… You’ve seen what he’s done so far… You honestly think he wouldn’t find it easy to go for us if it meant his own survival?’

Tracy got up from beside the fire. She kept the sharp end of the machete pointed towards Billy and her eyes fixed on his every movement. ‘The same could be said about you? You didn’t seem to have a problem putting a knife in him. Neither did you have a problem eating human flesh yesterday…’

‘You’d feel safe in a camp with him? Were you listening to what he was just saying and seeing how he was acting?’

What Billy was saying was true; Paul’s demeanour had changed. Tonight was the first time he’d actively smiled over killing someone. At least with James there had been some remorse. And with Chris, Paul had believed he was protecting himself.

‘You don’t need to point that at me,’ Billy said with reference to the blades being aimed in his direction. ‘I don’t want to hurt anyone. I want us to survive this and I want us to do so together… But we wouldn’t have lasted a night with Paul still here and deep down you know that too. He has killed two people, he wouldn’t hesitate to kill us as well. Now - with him gone - we can all sit down together and we can try and figure this out as a fucking team… You know team? Wasn’t that what we were supposed to be when we came out here?’

Billy stopped talking. Slowly Donna lowered her blade down, but she didn’t let go of it. Only Tracy kept her machete pointed and poised.

‘I don’t want to hurt you,’ Billy said, ‘and I know you don’t want to hurt me… If you do - doesn’t that make you just as bad as me?’ He paused. Still Tracy didn’t move one way or the other. ‘I’m unarmed…’ Billy pointed out.

Tracy slowly sat back down but, like Donna, she kept a firm grip on what was now her weapon. Billy took a step towards the fire to join them.

‘No,’ said Tracy. ‘You can sit a little further back. We want distance.’

Billy hesitated a moment and then nodded. Before taking a few steps back though he bent down, picked up the letter Paul had dropped and tossed it onto the dying fire.

‘Kindling,’ he said.

Slowly the letter caught a light.

‘We aren’t playing their game,’ Billy said before sitting a few feet away. ‘There’ll be another way.’ With a fresh body in camp, his words brought no peace to the other members of the group. ‘We just need to think; as a team.’

23.

Ten had become six. Four bodies lay beneath a pile of leaves and jungle debris with the earlier kills starting to cause an unpleasant, festering aroma to linger around the camp. As a result all remaining members had moved down to the other end of the site they’d set up; although Tracy had wanted Billy to remain by himself in the original campsite. It was Donna who’d suggested it was best if they all stayed together so they could keep a close eye on not just him, but each other too. After all - people were desperate and if there was any chance to get home, surely one of them would take it?

The way Billy saw it - and had told the others – was, that there were a few options on how to proceed from there, and it was ultimately to be a group decision in the long run. The first option was that they played the game. They should split up and then - come morning - start formulating their own plan on how they could be the last one standing. To the group, this wasn’t really an option. It was only on the table due to the fact it was the option the show runners had put down for them.

The second option was that they continued just trying to survive. Explore the island, get more water, find food and vegetation they could digest… Set up more fires to try and attract the attention of vessels sailing by, or planes in the air. None had been seen so far, just as they hadn’t been seen when they first explored the island, but as Billy pointed out again - it didn’t mean they weren’t out there.

Another option was to use the washed-up debris and anything else they found to fashion some kind of raft. In the distance, on a clear day, the group had been able to see other islands so - maybe an option was to try and make it to one of those? It would be dangerous, yes, but so would staying on the island and playing the game or even just trying to survive alone. Whatever option the group took would not be easy but, as Billy reiterated again, it had to be their decision. It wasn’t up to just one of them.

When the time came to make a decision, none of the group chose the option to fight it out. Despite all that had happened so far, especially with what Billy had only just done, no one was really surprised by this. The option to build a raft to try and escape didn’t fill them with much joy either and so that only left the one option;  try and survive on the island until someone came by and rescued them.

Only when the group decision was made did the questions start to crop up. What if the show runners had a plan up their sleeves to force them to turn on one another? What if, if the group wasn’t playing by the rules, the show runners got bored with the concept and simply came to kill them all? What if they couldn’t find enough to live off? Would one of them crack in a weak moment and then turn on the others? Obviously they were all questions that couldn’t be answered with any thing other than we’ll have to wait and see - yet it wasn’t an answer which brought anyone any form of comfort.

That night, each of them slept with one eye open - not that sleep was easy to come by given their current situation. Each of them lay there with eyes open and thoughts racing. Every little sound becoming something it wasn’t: a creature rustling close by in the undergrowth became one of their camp-mates attempting to creep up on them, the wind rustling leaves was the chatter of veiled threats from one of the other sleeping areas… Every little sound became something else.

*

Angela had felt as though she hadn’t long since drifted off into a nightmarish slumber when she was woken by the sound of Tracy calling out to Vicky. Tracy’s voice sounded panicked and it was enough to make Angela sit up with a racing beat of her heart.

‘Vicky? Vicky? It’s okay girl…’

Angela looked over to where the noises were coming from. A strange grunting almost obliterating Tracy’s words. Tracy was kneeling next to Vicky who was still laying in her bed.

‘What’s going on?’ she called over.

Vicky’s face was contorted with pain as she writhed around - Tracy desperately trying to calm her and stop her from banging her head on something.

‘Come and help me…’ Tracy called over.

The realisation that something was wrong hit and Angela jumped up from her own sleeping area and hurried over to the two women. The rest of the camp was starting to stir too as Angela noticed an empty syringe by Tracy’s foot.

‘What’s happening?’

Before Tracy had a chance to answer Vicky’s body went limp.

‘No, no, no…’ Tracy started to frantically feel for a pulse on Vicky’s neck. ‘No… Come on, girl…’ Despite Angela starting to panic next to her and the rest of the group calling over, Tracy went to start CPR. She only stopped when, re-positioning Vicky’s head, a mouthful of spittle and froth spilled out and down the deceased girl’s top. Tracy sat back, deflated.

‘What did you give her?’ Angela asked. Her eyes were still fixed upon the empty syringe. ‘What did you do?’ Angela asked, a little more frantic this time.

Tracy immediately stood up, grabbing the syringe in the process and stuffing it in her pocket before the others saw her.

‘I didn’t do anything! I was trying to help!’

Donna came over, closely followed by the others.

‘What’s happened?’

‘She killed Vicky!’ Angela pointed the finger immediately.

‘No! I didn’t. I was trying to help her,’ Tracy said. ‘She had been sick all night and wasn’t showing signs of stopping so I gave her a shot to help her with it…’ She added, ‘I think she had a reaction…’

‘You think?’ Billy said sarcastically.

‘I was trying to help her!’ Tracy said. Thinking on her feet she quickly added, ‘They could have changed the medications on us. Instead of what I thought I was giving her, they could have given us something else… A poison, or something… I don’t know… You said it yourself yesterday that they could potentially mess with us to make us turn on one another… What if this is part of their plan? Make you think I had killed her?’

No one really said anything. At this stage - it was another dead body. What was there to say? There could have been some truth in what Tracy was saying for sure. The letter warned them there’d be punishments and they’d already made their point by slitting someone’s throat so - could they have swapped out the medication too?

‘Well from here on in - no shots for anyone,’ Billy said coldly. With his eyes fixed on Doctor Death (a nickname he’d mentally just given her) he suggested, ‘No one get sick.’ He turned his back on Tracy and the body and walked back to where he’d slept for the night. There was work to be done but he didn’t care. For now, he just wanted to lie down.

‘What about Vicky?’ Tracy asked.

‘Not my mess to clear up,’ Billy said. ‘Get her out of here before she starts to stink the place out.’

Tracy looked at the body and then to the remaining group members in a hope someone would offer to help. Alycia leaned down to the camera next to where Vicky had left it the previous night and moved it away from the body - a tease which made it look as though she might have been about to help.

‘Anyone able to help me?’ Tracy said.

‘I will,’ said Donna. The youngest member of the group and still the one who wanted to prove herself the most.

‘Thank you,’ said Tracy.

24.

After the drama at camp, Alycia had walked down to the beach to be alone. Her mind racing in so many directions, she could barely think straight herself without having to listen to more arguments and accusations which would serve no purpose other than to cloud her judgement and thoughts even more. Thinking of the dead bodies, she couldn’t help but feel as though they were the lucky ones. She didn’t want to die but - stuck here and unsure of what the future had in store for her - she didn’t want to survive either. Not like this.

Another reason to come down to the beach though was not just to get away from the others but also to look at the camera Vicky had been using the previous night. When she’d leaned down to pick it up, Alycia had noticed that it was not only on but facing in the direction of where Tracy had been standing. Whilst there was a part of her which didn’t doubt Tracy’s explanations as to what had happened to Vicky, there was still a part of her which did.

With a quick check over her shoulder to see if she was truly alone, she looked into the camera’s view-finder and switched the mode through to playback. Down the viewfinder, the screen flickered a couple of times before revealing a picture. It wasn’t the best angle and nor was the focus brilliant but what it did clearly show was that - as Tracy approached Vicky - Vicky had been asleep. There was something else too… Alycia frowned and rewound the footage a little further. When she pressed play, she just as quickly pressed the pause button too. She squinted harder at the picture. The image showing on the viewfinder was of Tracy standing there on her initial approach. She was as close as could be without her image going out of focus. She looked as if she was frowning but that wasn’t what had caught Alycia’s eye. It was the syringe which had stolen her attention.

Alycia squinted harder at the small instrument in Tracy’s hand. It was impossible to tell as clearly as she’d hoped - and this was the clearest image available - but, from this angle, it even looked as though the clear syringe was empty of any medication.

Alycia pulled away from the viewfinder. Squinting so hard at the image had done nothing for her splitting headache as it pounded away behind her tired eyes. The image hadn’t been clear enough to know for sure that the syringe was empty but it was certainly clear enough to raise some doubt. And, also, why would Tracy be administering medicine whilst Vicky was sleeping anyway? Surely if she had been sick all night, Vicky would have been sitting up and prepared for such an injection?

Despite the morning sun already reaching temperatures Alycia wasn’t used to back home, a shiver ran down her back. Had Vicky even been ill? Given Alycia didn’t sleep brilliantly herself, she hadn’t heard anyone repeatedly being sick.

‘You okay?’ Donna’s voice came out of nowhere and made Alycia jump. ‘Sorry I didn’t mean to scare you.’ Donna asked again, ‘Are you okay?’

‘Good as we can be,’ Alycia replied with a forced smile. She couldn’t say anything to Donna because she couldn’t be sure herself that anything untoward had happened. Even if she could be sure - was Donna really a friend? Were any of them friends anymore? Or - was everyone only out for themselves?

‘You coming back up to the camp?’ Donna asked. She herself was on the way back having already helped take Vicky’s body back to the other end of the camp, out of the way.

‘I’ll be up in a minute,’ Alycia said - the fake smile now frozen in place for the benefit of Donna. Donna smiled back sweetly as she continued her own path back to camp.

No sooner did she have her back to Alycia did the smile fade from the camera-woman’s face.

On the next episode:

Quick-fire clips

A shot of the ocean and a female screaming.

A flare shooting up into the sky.

A view of the island from an unseen boat. The island gets smaller.

The credits roll.

Episode Nine

A Survivor

25.

The fire acted as a meeting point for the group. It had been a long night and the death of Vicky had made for a challenging start to the day too but - the survivors knew, if they wanted to live, they couldn’t just sit around. They had to act and, more importantly, they had to act fast and decisively. Billy was standing whereas the rest of the group were seated. Once again, despite not being nominated, he had taken it upon himself to act as some kind of spokesperson as to how the camp should be run.

‘We shouldn’t wander off by ourselves either,’ he was explaining a new set of rules he’d taken it upon himself to put in place. ‘We have seen that they can get to the island when they want, and not only that - they can do it without us noticing… By sticking together we save ourselves from being picked off, should they choose to punish us for continuing to work as a team. We also protect ourselves from…’ He didn’t want to finish the sentence, but it needed to be said, especially with the way the day had started for them. ‘… It protects ourselves from each other too.’

Tracy looked at him. His words struck a nerve with her given what had happened and although he hadn’t outwardly accused her of murder - that was effectively what he was saying here. ‘Why don’t you just say it?’

Billy turned his attention to Tracy. ‘What?’

‘You think I killed her.’

‘It doesn’t matter what I think. It matters how we move forward. Right? These are all little things that we can put in place to protect ourselves from potential threat. Unless you have a problem with a rule which helps keep people protected?’

Tracy couldn’t answer him. The problem she had was that Billy had put the rule in place but if she stood up and argued against it - it made it look as though she wanted people to be left vulnerable by wandering off on their own. She smiled sweetly at him and wished it had been his vein she’d injected the air into.

‘I have no problem with people being kept safe,’ she said with a sneer.

Billy smiled. ‘Good.’ He looked away from Tracy towards the other members of the group sitting around the fire.

Alycia was sitting behind the camera, filming the meeting despite wishing she could just toss the camera onto the burning wood and be done with the whole damned thing. She’d kept quiet about what she’d seen but was secretly smiling at Billy’s comment. His words were enough to let her know that he didn’t trust Tracy either and they’d all seen what Billy was capable of if he didn’t trust someone.

‘Food,’ Billy continued. ‘No one has had a proper meal since we arrived on the camp now and it’s important we keep our strength up. We know we aren’t getting rescued any time soon and we know we’re struggling to find something to eat in the jungle. We shouldn’t stop looking, I’m not saying that, but I am saying there are options for a meal we can eat to provide us some much needed energy for the tough days ahead…’

Donna closed her eyes. She knew what Billy was talking about and just the hint alone was enough to turn her stomach.

‘As you know - I have tried some and, honestly, it tastes just like a bitter pork… Close your eyes and pretend hard enough and you’d think you were eating that wild boar the two ladies saw the other day. Needless to say I’m not going to force your arm into trying it. It’s up to you but what I will say is - it isn’t as bad as you fear and, at the end of the day, we’re all hungry.’

Donna retched hard enough for the others to notice.

‘I’m going to cook some for myself before we leave to go hunting in the jungle. If anyone else would want me to do the same for them - I’m happy to do it and, if that is the case, you can all wait here and I’ll bring the food over. You don’t have to come with me. You don’t have to see where it comes from…’

Tracy tried to turn the tables on him and said, ‘Yeah okay, so basically you’re going to feed everyone the food that’s gone off in the heat whilst you eat something fresher for yourself?’

Billy hadn’t actually thought of that. Despite the fact he had taken Paul’s life, he had done it for the good of the camp. He’d not actively started to plan on how else to bump his colleagues off, not when he was more focused on how they could all survive together.

‘And if that is how you feel, you’re welcome to come with me and watch me cut the meat and cook it,’ Billy said. ‘I was just trying to make it easier for you but - whatever you want.’ He paused a moment. ‘Does anyone want to have some food before we go out looking for something else and more longer lasting?’

As he paused, Billy looked around at the faces of the group. Angela nodded at him, Donna was looking to the ground, Tracy was glaring at him. He turned to look at Alycia behind her camera. From out of sight of the viewers, she too nodded.

‘It’s up to you then,’ he said, ‘those of you who want to try it can come with me or you can wait here but, whatever you choose, I’ll go and make a start now. The sooner we get out into the jungle, the better. Let’s make the most of this daylight.’ Without waiting for anyone to say anything, or let him know of their own plans, Billy turned and headed back towards where the camp had originally been set up.

No one else moved as they processed all that had been said and all that they needed to do and decide upon. Alycia zoomed the camera’s view point into Tracy’s expression. From behind the lens she tried to figure out what was going through her mind, let alone trying to figure out what she herself was going to do with regards to the food. Was this woman going to turn on another of the group at the first opportunity or had the syringe been full of a medicine and it just appeared as though it were empty? There was so much nagging doubt about the footage she’d seen that Alycia really couldn’t decide one way or the other.

Without thinking it through Alycia suddenly said, ‘Vicky was filming when you injected her…’

Tracy looked through the camera and straight to Alycia. After the briefest of hesitation she said, ‘Good, then you’ll see that I was helping her and not killing her as Billy hinted.’

Donna and Angela looked from Tracy over to Alycia, who lowered the camera. She’d got Tracy’s reaction to her statement in close-up… A sudden look of panic, maybe guilt, and then she’d swallowed hard - another sign of guilt and then she’d answered her. Alycia knew for sure the syringe had been empty. She smiled at Tracy.

‘Of course.’

Tracy seemed to visibly breathe a sigh of relief.

‘Thank you for saying something,’ Tracy said.

‘I’m going to go and film what he is doing for breakfast,’ Alycia said as she stood up, tucking the camera under her arm in the process. ‘I presume I might see some of you over there in a bit?’

No one answered. They weren’t being rude, they just didn’t know how to answer. With things the way they were, it made sense to just try it and get some much needed energy but none of them could easily shake the fact that it was “person” they’d be eating. Alycia didn’t mind that no one answered or followed though. She didn’t care about the filming, she just wanted to have a private chat with Billy.

26.

Billy wasn’t surprised by what Alycia said. Nor did he dispute it when she showed him the clip of Tracy on the camera Vicky had been using. He was disappointed, but not surprised. He’d hoped the group could have worked together to find a way out of this mess but clearly that wasn’t going to be the case. If Tracy wasn’t dealt with - as agreed by Alycia - then there was a chance she’d kill someone else. After all, why kill just one if you didn’t plan on finishing the job so you could get back home? It didn’t make sense. The problem was - if Tracy was dealt with then it would be another pair of hands down for the camp. Surviving was already going to be challenging enough without losing another set of hands to help around the place… Then of course there was the other way of looking at it: If he killed Tracy then there would only be three more people, and himself, on the island. Three people standing between himself and his freedom. Of course he hadn’t said any of this to Alycia. He’d told her, calmly, that he’d deal with it and that Tracy’s actions had left him with little choice on how best to proceed.

‘Thank you for telling me,’ Billy said.

‘I didn’t know what else to do.’ Alycia wanted her freedom from the island but at the same time, no matter what it meant for her chances of getting back home, she wasn’t a murderer. Billy had already proven himself capable of making that decision so it had made sense for her to tell him what she’d seen.

Billy set the last of the freshly cut meat to one side, on a large leaf to save it sitting in the mud, and then wiped the knife “clean” on his filthy shorts.

‘Does anyone else know?’ he asked.

Alycia shook her head. ‘I only told you. I’m not sure how close they are to Tracy and whether they’d believe me. As you can see from the footage, it’s pretty hard to make out whether the needle is empty or not…’

‘So they all think everything is as good as it can be?’

‘I guess…’

‘Well that’s something at least.’

Billy smiled at Alycia.

‘You did a good thing telling me,’ he said.

‘Tha….’

Alycia’s words were cut short as Billy thrust the knife through her eye and into her brain. Her good eye looked from the knife sticking out of her head and then to Billy.

‘You’ve made me realise that - all this talk of us working together… It’s just not going to work, is it? The best way to get home is… Well… If I have to kill Tracy… What’s a few more deaths? Nothing…’ He shrugged. ‘I am sorry though.’

He pulled the knife from Alycia’s head, plucking her eyeball out in the process. No sooner was the blade free from her head did her body slump to the dirt. Despite being one step closer to being able to go home, Billy wasn’t happy about killing Alycia. Although they clearly came from two different walks of life, she wasn’t a bad person and neither had she upset him in any way.

‘It was the right thing to do,’ he said as he pulled the eye free from the blade. Killing Tracy meant there was only Alycia, him, Donna and Angela left. Angela had already proven she wasn’t the best at hunting. Alycia had shown she couldn’t handle a simple situation such as what had happened with Tracy and Donna was… Well Donna was keen to learn, and very able, but with just her and Billy - he knew it would be easier just to kill her and go home. Killing Alycia now, ahead of Tracy and the others, had definitely been the right call. Billy nodded as though to convince himself.

He looked down at the meat he’d not long since cut away from Serenity and then up in the direction of the other end of camp. Breakfast could wait a little while longer. No sense stopping now when he could just work himself up an appetite and finish the job the show runners had asked of him.

Leaving Alycia’s body, he slipped the knife between his belt and shorts and headed back in the direction of the other end of the campsite. As he did so, thoughts of his home life flooded his mind - further driving him to do what he’d already set his mind upon.

27.

Angela and Tracy were picking up sticks in what had become “their” camp since the camp-site had been extended. There was plenty to ensure the fires wouldn’t go out, especially with all that Serenity had collected, but it was better to over-stock then suddenly use the last of them and realise they were out.

The chore was done in silence between the two women. Each one half paying attention to what they were doing and half watching the other. Suspicious minds wondering if the other person was simply pretending to be pleasant but - actually - thinking murderous thoughts on how they could get themselves home quicker.

When they’d first got to the camp, everyone’s hearts had been racing with excitement for what they’d let themselves in for. Now adrenaline surged through their veins as they considered how their time on the island would come to an end. Each of them worrying about the other whilst also wondering if they themselves had it in them to take a human life in order to get home. Tracy knew the answer to the last question.

Tracy had made that decision - to take another life -  during the night whilst lying there unable to sleep. She’d saved enough lives, surely she was permitted to take some now? The way she saw it, lying there in the dark, it was okay everyone saying they would work together to try and survive this ordeal but - at the end of the day - they didn’t hold any of the good cards. The producers were the ones in control. They had the aces up their sleeves and whatever the group decided amongst themselves, the producers could crush them whenever they so desired. They had proven as much with the slitting of Serenity’s throat and the fact they’d even managed to get ten strangers to sign up for this ordeal in the first place.

‘Are you okay?’ Angela asked.

Tracy snapped from her thoughts. She’d just been standing there, in the middle of the open space, staring absent-mindedly into the small flames flickering from the fire. She felt her face flush with embarrassment at being caught like that.

‘I’m okay,’ she said. ‘I was just thinking about home,’ she lied. She steered the conversation away quickly. ‘What about you? Are you okay?’

Angela lied too, ‘I’m good.’

Tracy smiled.

‘I think we’ve got enough wood for now, don’t you?’

‘I think so.’

Billy approached through a small clearing in the thicket. ‘Ladies… Were you coming to breakfast? There’s plenty to go around…’

‘We were on our way,’ Angela said. ‘Just thought we would have a quick clear up whilst you did what needed to be done…’

Billy looked around. ‘Where’s Donna?’

‘We thought she’d gone with you?’ Angela said.

The whole time Angela and Billy were speaking - Tracy was standing back with her eyes fixed on Billy as though she both hated him and was deeply suspicious of him. The moment he’d appeared through the thicket, she had spotted the knife tucked down his front. She’d long since decided that he was the one who’d have to be the next to go and she’d already been deciding on a suitable excuse… Something to tell the others as to why she had to kill him.

‘Not with me.’ Billy shrugged. It wasn’t a problem. It was easier that Donna wasn’t there. Thinning out the herd.

‘Where’s Alycia?’ Tracy asked.

‘Not seen her. I thought she was with you…’ Billy frowned unaware that Alycia had already told them that she was going over to see him. His lie hadn’t gone unnoticed as both Angela and Tracy exchanged quick glances. ‘Just me or is there some tension in the air?’ Billy asked.

There was a moment’s silence until Angela broke it.

‘Alycia said she was going over to film you preparing… breakfast…’

‘She did?’

‘Yes,’ Tracy confirmed.

‘Well maybe she got side-tracked by Donna?’ Billy suggested. He looked at the two women and started to laugh. ‘What - you think I’ve killed her?’ He looked at the two women; first at Angela and then at Tracy. Both were standing there unsure of what to do or say. Both were unarmed. He grinned. ‘Okay then - how would I have done it?’

‘What are you doing?’ Tracy asked.

Billy looked at her. With a raised eyebrow he asked, ‘Would I inject her with an empty syringe?’ Before Tracy could say anything he continued, ‘Or would I take a knife and…’ In a quick motion he pulled his knife from where he’d stashed it and lunged it forward into Angela’s side. He finished his sentence as she screamed in pain, ‘… stick it in her?’

Tracy flinched with shock. Billy pulled the blade from Angela as she staggered back with her hands raised to her side at the knife’s point of entry. She cried out in pain as tears started streaming down her face.

‘You did this,’ Billy said to Tracy.

‘What?’

‘You killed Vicky intentionally. Alycia had the proof. That means I had to come and kill you before you killed anyone else and - well - it’s another pair of hands lighter to help with the running of this island so… It got to the point where it just made more sense to kill those of you left standing then trying to survive with limited numbers…’

Tracy was standing rooted to the ground. She knew he had the upper hand and she knew he was right in what he was saying. Even so…

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about…’

‘Don’t bullshit a bullshitter.’

‘I don’t want to die…’ Angela wept as she staggered from side to side. She stumbled over to Tracy. ‘Please… Can you help me… Please… I have children…’

Tracy pushed her away. ‘Get away from me…’

‘She won’t help you Angela. To be honest, I am surprised she hasn’t killed you yet…’ Billy said.

‘Please…’

‘Okay… Come here…’ Billy’s voice turned softer as he spoke to Angela. She looked at him like a wounded puppy and took a couple of steps towards him, desperate for any help he may be able to offer despite the fact it was him who’d done this to her. ‘Let me take a look,’ he said. As she took another step closer, he suddenly lunged forward again and plunged the knife in and out of her gut repeatedly.

Tracy seized her opportunity and ran towards the fire where the other blade had been stored. Billy immediately let go of Angela’s shoulder, letting her drop to the sand. Without pausing for breath, he made a bee-line for the other knife too and, as Tracy bent for it, he stuck his already bloody blade directly into her spine. With the force of the stab, and her own forward momentum, Tracy fell face first into the fire. Instantly, despite the blade in her back, she went to get up only to be kept in place with Billy’s heavy foot on her back. As the flames licked away at her flesh, she screamed until the pain robbed her of consciousness. Only when she stopped moving did Billy take his foot from her back. The knife, he left stuck in her. For Donna, he’d use the other one. He scooped down to where Tracy had stumbled for it and lifted it from the mud.

Then there was one.

28.

Had it not been for the screams, Donna could have come to the wrong conclusion that Alycia had tried to kill Billy. She’d made a move and, being stronger, he’d put her down for it. He could have waited with the body and explained what had happened and - even if it were a lie - she might have believed him. There was a chance she wouldn’t have too but… Without being there and seeing it for herself, it would have been hard to say for sure. The screams though - both Angela and Tracy - told her all she needed to know. Billy’s talk of working together was just that: All talk. What Donna didn’t know was whether he’d always planned to turn on them or whether something had happened to force his hand. The truth was, it didn’t matter anymore. The women’s screams had both gone quiet - Tracy’s taking longer to silence - so Donna could only presume that Billy had done what he’d intended. Furthermore he’d be looking for Donna now to finish up so he could get off this island. If she was in his shoes, it would be what she was doing.

Donna turned her back on the direction of the screams and looked towards the dense jungle. Adrenaline surging through her, she understood why it was called the fight or flight response. She wanted to run and hide but she knew, if she did, not only would she be alone with no provisions but he’d still be looking for her. Running wasn’t an option but then, facing him down? He was bigger than her and - unlike Paul - he appeared fitter too. Fighting wasn’t an option either. At least, not playing fair.

She turned back to the camp and to Alycia’s body. If she was caught here then the game was up. Billy would see that Donna knew what he’d done and - more importantly - that he was going to hurt her too. If she saw him elsewhere though, away from the body, she could pretend to be concerned about the screaming and pretend to be Billy’s friend and… She reached down to her waist. One of the camp’s knives was tucked down the waist-line of her shorts. Pretend to be his friend and then - her heart skipped a beat.

It wouldn’t be murder, she thought to herself. It would be self-defence. Not only that but it would be a way off the island and back to the life she’d left behind. With her mind set, she slid the knife round to her back so that it wasn’t as visible when she approached Billy. If he didn’t see the knife, he might approach her more calmly than charging for her - something she wasn’t sure she would be able to cope with. By approaching her in a calmer manner, to try and get the element of surprise when it came down to his attack, it gave her the opportunity to do exactly the same to him. Talk to him sweetly and then - when he wasn’t expecting it - go for the knife and hope she could stick it in him before he stuck it in her.

With negativity filling her mind, her only hope was that - if he did strike first - it would be quick and the pain not too unbearable.

‘You can do this,’ she told herself.

She took the first step towards the other side of the camp (and the way down to the beach). The idea being to get down to the waterside to pretend she’d been there the whole time. She hadn’t been at the camp to see what had happened (only heard the screams) and she hadn’t seen Alycia’s dead body. Plead ignorance to both and hope that she had a good poker face when Billy did finally…

A heavy rustling from the thicket behind her…

Donna turned on the spot. Before she had a chance to react in any other way, she felt the sharp pain of a knife enter her stomach. Billy.

‘I’m sorry, girl,’ he said.

There was no grief in his eyes, no remorse, nothing. His eyes seemingly as black as that of shark on the hunt. A smile spread across his mouth.

‘I’m sorry but… I have a boat to get,’ he continued.

He stood there with his arm around her and his other hand still on the blade that was being held inside her stomach. The pain was a burning sensation and Donna could feel warm blood trickle from around the knife’s blade. Billy pulled her closer so that he could whisper in her ear.

‘Did you have a message for anyone at home?’ he asked.

Without a word, and unseen by Billy, Donna reached behind for her own knife. Using all the strength she could muster, ignoring her pain, she pulled the knife from her waistband and then tried to pull herself away from Billy so that she could see his face. He let her. To coincide with the pain in her belly, there was a sickness too - brought on by the sight of his treacherous smile.

Her last bit of strength.

The blink of an eye.

She swung round with the knife and pushed the sharp tip straight up under Billy’s chin. The blade pushed through his mouth, almost severing his tongue in the process, and continued through the roof of his mouth pushing further up and into his brain. His death was instant as his eyes rolled to the back of his skull. His grip on the knife handle loosened and his arm swung away from the weapon, leaving it stuck in Donna’s stomach. Then, he collapsed in a heap on the ground. Donna stood there a moment, unsteady on her feet and with a knife still poking from her stomach. She touched the handle and let out a cry of pain. It took all her will power not to pull it out but she knew, if she did, her death would come sooner than if she left it in place. She cried out again as she staggered back against one of the trees to her side. The temptation to sit down and rest was strong but she knew, if she did, she may not get back up again. If she was going to survive this, she needed to get to the camp.

The flares.

*

The island was once almost unspoilt. The sands pristine and the jungle free from litter and signs of deforestation. The only sign of human interference being the rubbish washed up along the shoreline from faraway places. Empty packets of God knows what sprawled in writing unrecognisable by most of Western Society.

From the sea the island was a sight to behold; a glimpse of the luxurious lifestyle if only “man” would stay away, keep from touching it with his poisoned grip. Man didn’t stay away though.

He came, he destroyed.

The island was tainted.

Blood seeping into the muds. Flesh rotting in the forests. Pain, misery and ghosts. And more blood… Blood in the mud, blood in the sands; little trickles here and there from where it had spilled from Donna as she stumbled and staggered from one end of the camp to the other. Her mind set upon reaching the metal box and the flares within.

*

Donna dropped to her knees next to the container. One hand was gripped to the knife in her gut to save it from moving too much and doing more internal damage.

With her spare hand she reached for the container and fumbled with the clamps keeping it closed, protecting the contents from the elements. She opened it and pulled the two flares out with a shaking hand.

So close to being able to leave.

So close to going home.

She looked skywards and pointed the first of the flares; her actions caught by the hidden cameras the show’s producers had had installed.

*

Even with the sun as bright as it was, shining high in the clear skies, the flare was still visible for miles all around. And there it seemed to hang too as the speed-boat raced towards the island; medics onboard, along with a small camera crew and security detail, to fetch the last remaining survivor. Flying ahead of the boat, a drone to capture the first overhead images and - back on the main land - the producers were all popping the corks off the champagne bottles. They were laughing and congratulating one another safe in the knowledge that, even without the footage filmed by the campmates themselves, they still had enough from their own cameras to make the show air-able to the viewing public. What’s more, they were confident it was going to be good too and, this was only the first season… With a few little details to iron out, they knew they could make the second season so much better.

So much bloodier.

A message came through from the evacuation team; they’d found the survivor. She was in a critical but stable condition and they’d called for the helicopter to get her straight to the medical ward.

The producers smiled at the news. At first they thought she might have died too when they’d seen the stabbing on one of the live-feeds but - all being good - she’d pull through. After all, what better way to start the next season than to bring back the survivor from Season One?

TODAY

Shoes off, kicked to the side messily.

Feet up on the coffee table.

Cup of tea in hand.

Spare hand on the controller.

Television control pointed to the 50” screen.

Red button clicked on the handset.

The screen illuminated.

Half ten in the evening and The News is still playing.

Same old shit on the television.

The television screen flicked.

The picture changed.

Commercials. Too many on the television these days. Same old shit.

The television screen flicked.

The picture changed.

‘And now on Channel Seven, with strong language and scenes of animal slaughter… Would you survive being deserted on The Island?’

The station’s logo cut to black and a warning message faded up on the screen: The following show contains foul language, scenes of animal slaughter and conflict. Viewers of a nervous disposition had been warned…

The show I was waiting for.

Television controller set to the side.

Cup of tea sipped.

This was the program to end the evening with.

This was the show which had been anticipated all day.

I reached for the packet of Bourbon biscuits and opened them as quietly as possible as the narrator explained the show.

‘Can you pause it a minute? I’m just going to make a fresh brew…’

I stopped and looked at her with a look of contempt which she ignored to save herself an argument. Without a word, she got up and hurried from the room as I looked on in disbelief. With a huff, I leaned forward for the controller and aimed it back to the screen. A quick press of the button and the on-screen action was paused.

‘You couldn’t have done that while we were waiting for it to start?’ I called out.

Clattering from the kitchen, she didn’t hear me.

‘Un-fucking-believable,’ I muttered. I swear she does this to annoy me. She likes to push my buttons. She likes to see how far she can wind me up before I snap and start shouting. She’s a cunt and I regret the day I ever…

Another clatter from the kitchen and suddenly my leg jolted, yanked to the side with a heavy tug of the chain cuffed to my ankle.

‘What the fuck are you doing?’ I yelled.

‘I’m sorry, I tripped.’

‘Clumsy bitch!’

I pulled my leg back with more force than strictly necessary. Another clatter from the kitchen as my own gesture yanked her back just as she’d done to me. I couldn’t help but to raise a smile.

‘You’re cleaning any fucking mess you’re making out there,’ I warned her.

‘I’m sorry…’

At least there was some genuine remorse in her tone.

‘Hurry up! I’m waiting!’ I called through. All day I had waited for this show. She knew I had waited for it. I’d been looking forward to it since it was announced.

I waited for a couple of minutes - long enough for her to get back on her feet, steady herself and pick up the mess she’d made. Then, with no warning, I yanked hard upon the chain for a second time. And, again, I heard her crash to the floor with a heavy thud.

Trying not to laugh I called through, ‘Sorry.’

COMING SOON - “CHAINED”

Author Bio

Matt Shaw is the author of over 200 published works. As well as appearing in a number of anthologies, Matt’s work has been translated into French, German, Korean and Japanese. His work has also been adapted into graphic novels and - more recently - film.

Having successfully crowdfunded a feature film, in 2018 Matt Shaw adapted his best-selling novel MONSTER into a screenplay (with Shaun Hutson acting as script consultant) and then went on to direct it himself. The film starred Rod Glenn, Tracy Shaw (Coronation Street), Laura Ellen Wilson and Danielle Harold (Eastenders). Having broken his “film cherry”, Matt is currently producing two more feature films - one an original piece which he wrote for screen (Next Door) and a second based on another of his novellas (Love Life).

Matt tours both the UK and the US on regular book signings but - if you’re unable to get to where he is - there is also a store where you can purchase signed merchandise direct from him over on ETSY. Simply look up The Twisted World of Matt Shaw where you’ll find exclusive downloads, his infamous DeadTed bears and more…

Want to stay up to date with Matt? He can be found on Twitter, Instagram and Facebook. There is also a fan club which has exclusive stories, early reads, behind the scenes information and a whole lot more - available on Patreon!