Sunk Too Deep

by FountainPenguin

If Cody's wheelchair falls off the Dock of Shame into the lake and only Chris and Heather are around, does anyone care? (Written July 2015)

I dragged Cody's wheelchair to the confessional instead of pushing it. The rubber wheels snagged in the untrimmed grass and sometimes made the whole thing tip onto one side, but I'd stopped caring. I had more than enough time to kill tonight. Leshawna had holed herself up in the bathrooms with Beth and Lindsay for the last hour, scrubbing out the paintball splatters until their skin turned red and lumpy. When I'd last checked, she'd been about to start on their hair.

"Well, here we are, dork." I righted Cody's chair again and parked it outside the confessional door. "You really think you're up for this?"

Cody nodded. He said something too, but the words died out behind his mask of bandages. I hoped that if he made any attempt to get me eliminated from the island tonight, Chris would drop his vote on the grounds that it was unintelligible.

"Courtney, are you still in there?" I gave the outhouse a swift kick, regretting it instantly when splinters jabbed my uncovered toes. "Your team didn't even lose the challenge. What could you possibly need to go on about for half an hour straight?"

"Okay, Heather, one minute! Just let me wrap up. What was I saying again? I was saying something. Oh, and I had to stare up his nostrils for twenty minutes as we struggled back to camp. And he made me walk backwards. I fell into the stream! Twice! And his pits reeked like sweaty socks dunked in split pea soup and left to molder. But that wasn't even the worst of it. Not three minutes in, he said to me…"

I sat down against the wall and emptied my shoes of pebbles as Courtney's complaints trailed into background noise. Wearing high-heel wedges to camp? Definitely not among the top ten decisions I'd ever made in my life. I should have expected Chris would lie about the five-star resort. Cody made muffled noises for a few minutes, and when I finally looked around for him, his chair had edged several meters down the slope. He fell over when one wheel sunk into uneven ground. I entertained myself by watching him squirm beneath his seatbelt, visible only by strips of gauze and tufts of brown hair. When he twisted just right, I could make out the purple around his swollen eye too.

The door opened. Courtney stepped out, her tan face flushed a deep pink that I could see even in the twilight. Between that and the way her fingernails were stuck in the wood, I took a wild guess and concluded that if I hadn't called for her to get out, she would have stayed in the outhouse listing slights against Duncan all night.

"There. It's all yours. Happy voting, Heather." A frown shot across her face. "Are you okay? Your eye is all red and puffy. That one, right there." She wrenched her nails from the door so she could point, in case I didn't know which one she meant. "And you still have paint in your hair."

I placed the back of one palm against my eye. "Yeah, well, I can't deny that I'm impressed with Leshawna's aim. Who knew those shampoo bottles could squirt all the way from the sinks to the door? I thought for sure that enormous backside of hers would knock her off balance."

A tiny smile twitched at one end of Courtney's mouth. "That's not very funny," she started to say, and then her eyes strayed past my shoulder. "Hey, is that Cody? He could be hurt!"

"Not more than he is already," I said, but Courtney bolted past me anyway. She pulled him from the ground, checked to be sure he was securely buckled in, and then turned a few puzzled circles.

"He's with me." I got to my feet and stretched. "Chris still wants him to make his vote tonight. Or give a valiant and hilarious try, anyway. I volunteered to keep him out of trouble."

Cody spat something beneath his bandages, shooting me a razor-edged glare as Courtney pushed him back up the slope.

"What's your problem, bear-bait? It's not my fault you fell down. That can't have hurt worse than your mauling."

Cody made a fair attempt at shaking his head.

Courtney pulled Cody's chair inside the confessional, even climbing on top of the toilet seat so she could ease him into position. His elbow knocked the camera from its straps on the door. I picked it up, silently cursing myself for not grabbing the opportunity to deliver my vote and take off while Courtney had been rescuing him. I was not looking forward to dragging him out of there.

"There. Nice and snug." Courtney squeezed around Cody's chair and stood back to admire her handiwork. "I'll leave you to it then. Good-bye, Cody. You never would have made it to the finals anyway, but it's awful to see you go out like this. Get well soon." She gave him a very gentle hug around the neck brace before heading off towards the Bass cabin. Cody made strangled noises like he was trying to call after her.

I furrowed my brow. Wait a minute.

I took my hand from the door and it swung shut behind me. "Are you- ? … Oh. Oh. You can still speak, can't you? Well, duh, of course you can still speak. I heard you trying for an hour. Er… do you want those off now?"

Cody rolled his eyes. A fly landed on his nose and started to rub its forelegs together.

In hindsight, the question was stupid. I don't know why I'd assumed that a bandaged face had left him without a working tongue. But I had. So it wasn't really the question that was stupid, it was me. At that thought, I bit hard into my lower lip.

"Here." I flicked out my nails. The gauze was tied in the back, so I twisted myself awkwardly behind his chair. A few slits, a couple of tugs, and I lifted the strips away and wrapped them around my wrist. Cody started coughing. Heaving. Breathing. I slipped off the toilet seat, expecting that his first words were going to be, "That's a relief," or "Sweet, sweet air," or something else along those lines. Even, "Thanks, Heather". But instead, he surprised me.

"Dude, why did Courtney tell me good-bye? We haven't even had the elimination ceremony yet."

I pushed open the confessional door, righting the camera as it swayed again. "Maybe because she knows you just rendered yourself useless in all upcoming challenges and it's clear that- Aaugh!"

I'd made the mistake of turning around, putting myself nose-to-nose with Cody's unbandaged face for the first time. Cody blinked at me for a moment, sending a fly on his eyelid into the air, then lowered his gaze to his lap.

"That bad, huh?"

I opened my mouth, then closed it again. My thumb found the switch on the camera behind my back, and I flicked it off. Chris wouldn't be too happy about missing footage, but he'd get over it by morning. He already loved me for the drama I'd managed to stir up on the show thus far.

"It's pretty bad," I admitted. Expectant pause. It placed cold fingers around my throat and dried my tongue to sandpaper. My fist tightened around the door handle. "Look, Cody… I really don't make a habit of calling anyone exactly ugly, and especially not to their face. I mean, I'm happy saying a lot of nasty things, but falling back on 'ugly' insults would be the one pit I try to keep myself from straying into. It's too cliché." And hit a little too close to home. "A girl's got to have her pride, after all. But… I'm not going to lie to you here."

Cody creased his brows together. "So it's… bad, right?"

I shook my head, even though I meant yes. "It's bad. My cousin hit a shih tzu with his semi once, but I don't remember it looking anything like this. That bear tore your cheeks to shreds of confetti. I think your left one has a hole in it straight through to your mouth. Then you've got three bright red gashes down either side of what used to be the babiest face on the planet. Probably more than that, guessing by how much you've been mummified. Those are almost guaranteed to scar. That's not even mentioning your brace. Or your bruised eye. It's swelled bigger than Chris's ego now."

Just this morning, as Cody had stood trembling behind tiny Beth, I'd thought that with his rosy cheeks, noodle body, and enormous doe eyes, he was the wimpiest child I had met, ever. And I'd once passed an afternoon talking to Harold. But for a few heartbeats there in the confessional, Cody became the manliest man in the entire world. He tipped up his chin.

"Heh heh. Yeah, figured so. I think I broke both my arms when it grabbed me in its mouth. Chef said that's what happened, at least. And I'm pretty sure it ripped off like, three dozen patches of my skin. Everything burns like…" He paused, tasted the word in a way that I wouldn't have done, and then finished with, "crazy. Am I still bleeding?"

He didn't cry. I watched him the whole time, holding my breath. Not a single tear- not even the hint of one forming in either eye. I would have cried.

"I don't think so." I looked at the bandages around my wrist. "Uh, Chef did treat your wounds for infection, right?"

Cody tried to shrug, blowing another fly from his lip. "Honestly? I don't remember anything from when I first saw the bear following my trail of chip crumbs to the moment Courtney and Duncan came back into camp with their antlers locked together. I can't even remember how I got out of there and into the medical tent. Retrograde amnesia. My mom told me about that, but I didn't realize it would ever touch me on quite such a personal level." He let out a dry chuckle that made him cough. "For all I know, Gwen could've kissed me while I was down. Zip! All gone."

I stared at the brace around his neck until Cody got uncomfortable and started to squirm. "I guess you'll get to see it when the episode airs," I said. "Something that huge would rival even my fight with Beth and Leshawna."

"Nah. Chris says the whole thing was way too graphic even for the target audience. I'll go home without even a memory." He perked up as a new thought occurred to him. "He also said he threw up watching it, so at least it wasn't a total waste."

I tried for a smile that never came. "Well, you'll go down as a martyr."

"Oh, no." Cody treated me with a gap-tooth grin. I'm sure he meant it as a nonchalant gesture, but when he opened his mouth I could see right through his gum and out the hole in his left cheek. "Don't mark me out for the count just yet, dude. I plan to stick it through for awhile still. I mean, I'm not the one who got shot by my own teammates."

That thought smacked me in the stomach. Cody may have confined himself to his chair for the foreseeable future, but no one could claim he hadn't given the paintball challenge his all. What reason did the others have for voting him off the island when they had the chance to get rid of me?

There was none. If a roommate offered to relocate the beehive on our porch, I'd never tell her to stomp the ants in our driveway instead. The only downside to keeping Cody around was the possibility that he'd drag the team down in the upcoming challenges. And when you had a clear liability clinging to your ankles, what did you have to lose when faced with an elimination ceremony then? Your own butt was covered. Unless you'd found a way to turn your team's collective hate entirely on you.

My planned excuse of 'Beth was a traitor today' seemed so pitiful on my lips. I wasn't even sure I could rely on Cody's injuries as a failsafe now. I'd been backed into a corner by a wheelchaired baby-face. Beaten in a fight by a declawed kitten. I muttered a prayer that the rest of the team would never realize it.

"Heh heh." Cody kicked his feet, wincing twice but never dropping his smile. "Good luck, Heather. I think you'll need it tonight."

"You think that just because you're speckled with boo-boos now I'll sit on my thumbs and let you get away with trash-talk? Yeah right." I held up my wrist, waving the bandages about until his crossed eyes focused in on them. "You know I could dunk these in the septic tank and stuff them down your scrawny throat, don't you? Actually, forget that. I could dunk you in the septic tank. I'm not willing to bet those broken arms would keep you floating until Chris showed up to pull you out."

"Eh, it's no big deal. I've taken swim lessons since before I could walk. Babies never lose those instincts if you get 'em young enough, y'know. Mom said. I'm up to the point now where I can hold my breath for almost six minutes. I've found that the trick is playing music and trying to outlast the song." He looked at me hopefully, like he wanted to see if I was impressed by this useless piece of information.

"Oh, whatever." I kicked open the confessional door. The sun had officially sunk and the world was dark. "Just give your stupid confessional already and let's go. I still have paint in my hair."

"Um, Heather?"

I swung around, nails slicing into my palms. "What do you want from me now, dweeb? If you're going to ask if I can seat you on the toilet, forget it."

"No, just…" Cody glanced awkwardly at his chair. "You'll stay close, right?"

"Well, duh. I still have a vote to make. Scream for me when you're done and I might try to make it to you before the bear does." I flicked the camera's switch back to 'On', checked to be absolutely sure its red light was solid, and then slammed the door. I heard the camera tear loose from its bands again and crash to the ground, so my dramatic exit was ruined when Cody yelled for me to tie it back up. He was enjoying my sitting in the dirt too, that smug little cockroach. I think he was still high off adrenalin from his near-death experience.

Outside again, I planted myself against the confessional wall and stared across the campground. I usually liked the way the grass glowed in the moonlight. Tonight I wasn't feeling it. I watched, dull-eyed, as Lindsay sat down on the Bass cabin porch and began weaving a braid of string into Bridgette's hair. Harold and Sadie had taken Trent and Gwen up in a game of Chicken Fight over an hour ago, and they were still going at it. Duncan, Geoff, and DJ crouched outside the bathrooms with misshapen pillowcases in hand. Before they could launch one of their usual attacks on Harold, Courtney heard them snickering and instantly began to chew them out. Leshawna and Owen stood in front of the Gopher cabin, their heads bent together. I didn't see Beth.

I drew a stick-figure bear in the dirt with my shoe. I really needed to come up with a solid strategy for tonight's elimination, but every train of thought kept leading me back to Cody's shredded face.

It could have been me. It so easily could have been me.

He had almost died out there today. Freakin'. Died. I'd heard Chef tell Chris that he had barely made it in time. If he'd been even a few seconds slower…

Maybe going home tonight wouldn't be so bad.

"I'm really glad I woke up today," I heard Cody tell the camera. "I got up early this morning and I thought, Man, this is going to be a really good day. The sky was swirls of pink and purple and Chef let me throw last night's dinner scraps to a dolphin down by the dock. Heh heh, I didn't even know we had dolphins in Muskoka. You should've seen the sunrise. The cameras really don't do it justice."

I rested my chin on my knees. "Oh, get on with it already, you little suck-up. No point in milking the moment."

"Chris divided the teams into two groups: the hunters and the hunted. I was so psyched to be a deer. I'm small, but I'm quick. Lots of practice from dodging spitballs in math class. I found a sweet spot to hide in some bushes near the forest's edge. A little itchy, and a spider crawled onto my hand once, but I did okay. It was fun! Like I was famous and trying to make it to my limo while avoiding the paparazzi. That's a trick that will definitely come in handy in the future, heh heh."

He trailed off for a moment. I wondered if he was mulling over the same thought I was: That it would be a long time before he played hide-and-seek again. If ever.

"So the game was going pretty well for me. I thought it was a cinch to win. I almost made it all the way through without being hit by a single paintball." He laughed again. "Okay, I know I got mauled by a bear, but I'm feeling good about this. I'm a quick healer. And besides, Heather's as mean as a snake, dude. Her own team shot her like, eighteen times. They'll never kick me off."

Beth wandered out from the Gopher cabin and sat on the steps between Owen and Leshawna. She was working on something in her hands. I think it was a friendship bracelet. She'd given me one of those, back when I'd first taken her into my alliance: a startling violet of shiny beads. I'd told her a crow had flown off with it, but then taken it apart and slipped the pieces back into her craft box so I'd never have to feel guilty about not wearing it. She hadn't told me if she'd noticed.

"I vote for Heather," Cody was saying. "Leshawna and Gwen are with me on that for sure. Beth too. I almost don't believe she stood up to her like that. I wish I would've stayed to see how it all went down. Lindsay said it was like the highlight of her week."

Lindsay? Lindsay was turning on me now?

"Well… that's really all I have to say here. I'd never say that camp's been easy, but from the moment I first set foot on the island, it's been the funnest summer I've ever had. I've met some really cool friends since being here. Definitely will have to stay in touch with them when the season ends."

Another pause. I glanced up at the door handle, but Cody continued before I could reach out to it.

"You know, before I came to camp, I wasn't really sure what I believed. I felt like a puppet- worthless, unwanted, unloved. Broken, even. But I know now that God is out there. He's watching over me, or I probably wouldn't be sitting here right now. Seeing that bear tower over me was the scariest moment of my life. Chris said I was like, inches from death when Chef made it to me. Lesson learned the hard way: When you're playing dead, do not lay on the ground stomach-up."

He laughed. I don't know why he laughed.

"Yeah. I think its claws may have scratched my heart, dude. It's still pumping, so that's good news, at least. I… I'm so thankful that I'm still alive today. I'm fine, Mom. Dad. I really am. Chef fixed me up. One of the interns even donated some B negative blood. Kenny, Keith, Kevin or something. Said his little cousin was going to be horrified when she heard the news. Guess I have a fan after all… Everything's going to be okay, Mom. Stay chill. Love you both."

Harold finally managed to push Gwen off Trent's shoulders, and he slapped two high-fives from Sadie.

"Heather? Uh, Heather? You still out there, dude?"

Gwen, laughing so hard that it's a wonder she could even breathe, waved to Bridgette and Leshawna. They sprang off their respective porches and charged across the campground. Sadie's face somehow turned an even lighter white. She whipped around, Harold clinging to her neck, and made a dash for the Dock of Shame. Duncan and Geoff sensed an opportunity for torment and raced after them.

"I'm finished in here. Heather? Um, knock knock?"

I unfolded myself from my ball and stood, slowly. There was dirt stuck to my crop top. I brushed it off.

Cody's voice twisted upward into a wail. "Heather?"

I yanked open the confessional door. "What? I told you I wouldn't go far. Keep your panties on, geek."

I deserve the hundred grand for not flinching away when I looked at Cody's mangled face. The glint of a tear had finally appeared in his eye, but he blinked it away without pulling his gaze from mine.

"Heh heh. Thanks for bringing me up here. And ungagging my mouth. I'm starving. What did you guys have for dinner?"

"Starving? Oh, give me a break already. Your stomach is what landed you in those casts in the first place." I took hold of his armrests and dragged his chair through the door. "I already served my babysitting duty here- there is no way I am feeding you too. I still have to cast my vote. And wash the paint out of my hair."

"Never mind," he said. His gaze was on something past my shoulder. "Beth's on her way up- she can do it."

I glanced back at the campground. Sure enough, the little traitor herself was plodding towards us, head down, plucking at a half-finished friendship bracelet that dangled from her fingers.

Chris's rules were that the confessional could only be used for vote casting once the moon had risen completely above the lake. Beth had been in the bathroom with Lindsay and Leshawna. She hadn't made her vote yet. No one had.

"Heather's as mean as a snake, dude. Her own team shot her like, eighteen times."

For a long moment, I just stared at Cody's frail little body. He was saying something else… I think about how no one had bothered to bring him to dinner, so he'd sat on the cabin porch for an hour and counted shark fins in the lake. There were either twenty-seven or twenty-eight. He couldn't remember.

How would you urge your roommate to help you deal with the ants in your driveway? Easy- you'd draw her attention to the hill. Make her fully aware of its presence every time she walked past it. Make it undeniable. Convince her that if the hill stayed on the driveway then all were at risk, humans and insects alike. You'd have her believe that removing the hill was best not only for you, but also for the safety of the colony. She did want the ants to be safe, didn't she?

You just had to prevent the ants from throwing the spotlight on the bees instead.

The bandages peeled away from my wrist one at a time. Cody broke off his story as I shifted behind him.

"H-Heather? What are you doing?"

"Sorry, Cody." I looped the bandages around his chin again. "It's part of the game. You understand that."

His eyes widened. He tried to protest, but his words flickered out, smothered in strips of gauze. He kicked one leg. He twitched his arms. He screamed behind his fashionable new gag, but I'd tied him tight and stepped away long before Beth reached us. Only then did she look up.

"Hey," she said, greeting Cody with a half-lifted hand. "You feeling any better yet?"

Cody made desperate noises and kept flicking his eyes in my direction. His wheelchair started to roll down the little slope. I grabbed it by the handles and pushed him (gently) back against the confessional wall.

"Poor guy." I stroked a tuft of his scruffy brown hair. "He's been croaking out sounds like that for the last two hours. That bear really did a number on his vocal chords. Chef said it would be nothing short of a miracle if he ever spoke again."

Beth's eyes overflowed with tears in the course of half a heartbeat. She pushed her glasses up her forehead, wiped her face with both sleeves, and then threw her arms around Cody. He screamed as her elbows smashed his casted wrists.

"That's the most awful thing I've ever heard in my life! Hic! C-Cody… Cody… Oh, Cody Cody Cody Cody Cody… If I'd only been there. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I can't even begin to imagine how hard that must be for you."

"Mfsthum! Mirmi kofu! Miffer! Miffer!"

Gritting my teeth in silence, I knelt beside Beth and started to rub circles across her spine. After several minutes of sobbing into Cody's chest, she sat back on her heels. She lifted one of his bandaged hands and pressed it to her cheek. He flinched. I eased her away.

"Beth, listen… You shouldn't do that. He's really bad. You don't want to make him any worse than he already is. What he really needs is space. Lots of open space and plenty of time to rest."

"Krssh! Vimurk mvid!"

Snot trickled from both her nostrils. She sniffled. Rubbed her face with her forearm, but the snot stayed stubbornly put.

"W-when do you think he'll get better, Heather? Or out of the chair, at least?"

I had no answer for that. I didn't know how bear mauling worked. I wasn't even sure if Cody was paralyzed for life. Chef had never said one way or the other, and thinking on that now made me wonder if he'd known himself. As Beth's sleeves grew soppier, I stared at Cody's tiny feet, bound up better than any mummy costume I'd ever seen. He aimed a kick at me that fell too short. Either that or it was a spasm in his knee. I glanced away. When I raised my arm to my face I pretended I was concealing a sneeze.

"He'll be fine with plenty of rest," I began again. I cleared my throat. "Plenty of rest and some quiet time. I'm sure he'll get better. Someday."

Beth caressed the orange beads on her unfinished bracelet. "He needs to go to the hospital, doesn't he?"

"Yes. I talked with the others about it while you were in the shower. We've agreed to vote him off tonight so he can see a real doctor."

A lie, and Cody knew it. Right then, he could have won a prize for the world's most murderous glare. He screamed like a gopher. He kicked his legs again. Beth placed her hand on his injured wrist, rubbing his knuckles with her thumb.

"I'm so sorry, Cody. I know you were hoping to go all the way. That would've been awesome to end up in the finals together. Life can be so unfair sometimes. I just wish it didn't have to be so unfair to you… Thanks for always being willing to talk to me. I'll miss that. Thanks for telling me about primary gifts. And you. Here." She took a marker from her pocket and scrawled something on Cody's leg. "That's my number. Promise you'll call first thing when you get better, okay?"

"Mimph! Ish ma nwick! Miffers nwickik ruth! Rurr niffy arurr!"

I have to say, I was pleasantly impressed with how well my knots were holding up.

Beth got to her feet and gave Cody another squeeze. "You've been a great friend. You didn't deserve it. Unlike somebody standing over here."

I'd been halfway through the confessional door when she said it. I wheeled around. Cody's pupils had shrunk to specks, even in the dark. Beth stood beside him, her eyes slitted and her mouth drawn into a line. I could see the bulges of her braces beneath her tight lip.

"Excuse me? Did you have something you wanted to say? Beth?"

Cody jerked his head back and forth in warning, then groaned and lay his chin against the neck brace. "Maybe I do," Beth said, closing her tiny hands into fists. "And maybe I really, really wish that Cody weren't the one sitting in that chair."

"Reemy altimiss…"

I jabbed my finger at Cody's nose. "The dork brought all this on himself. It was his own free choice to wander around the bear-infested woods crunching on chips, and if he'd been smarter then it never would have happened."

Beth's face turned pink, then purple. "You're the one who sent me to get you those chi-"

"It was not my fault!" I sunk my fingernails into Cody's arm cast; he screamed a muffled scream. "I did not almost get somebody killed. It was his choice entirely to run off with them. I had nothing to do with it. You think I planned for him to be mauled like that?"

Vaguely, I was aware that the others down in camp had taken notice of our fight. I chose to ignore them.

"You asked for the chips, Heather! You were going to walk around the woods with them just like Cody. It would have been you. It should have been you. Except maybe then, I wouldn't let the others send you to the hospital! You could sit around peeing your bandages and always in pain and never speaking again, and I wouldn't care! Nobody would!"

She yelled a word that the producers would bleep out if they decided to put this footage in the episode. I recoiled in surprise, and Beth clapped both hands over her mouth. She stared at me, her eyes as wide as moons behind her glasses. Then she said the word again, a little softer this time.

"Bliff, remmit shmo rilamy. Reez."

I was still groping for a comeback when Beth took the handles of Cody's wheelchair and turned him towards the camp. "Maybe you should cast your vote now, Heather. We'll see you at the ceremony."

I voted for Beth. What else was I supposed to do? She'd humiliated me twice on camera today, and I'd never been the sort of person who could just let things like that slide. Before I dropped her picture in the voting box, I scribbled nasty words all over it. Not enough so that Chris couldn't tell who I'd picked, but enough that the red marker died in my hand and I felt obliged to offer my nail polish to Trent and Weird Goth Girl (Excuse me- Gwen) instead.

"No biggy," he said, giving it back. "I don't normally sign my name anyway."

"Right. Name."

Trent sighed. He ruffled through the stack of photos and slid a Cody into the box without bothering to talk to the camera, or even shut the confessional door. "I'll miss the little guy. But it's for the best."

Gwen sucked in her upper lip. "I feel awful. He was really, really annoying at the best of times, but at least he was sane."

"The dweeb will get to go to an actual hospital," I pointed out, crossing my arms. "That's something he can be grateful for. Between you and me, I think Chef rinsed out his wounds with old grease from the frying pan."

Her dark eyes focused on mine. She scowled as if she had only just realized I was there. "Don't think you'll wriggle off the hook next time, Heather. When we lose our next challenge, I'm going to make sure you're the one going home."

"Wriggle off the… You think I did it on purpose, don't you? You think I wanted to get Cody mauled so I could keep my own butt covered for another night. That's sick! How horrible do you think I am?"

Trent took hold of my shoulders, and I flinched because I hadn't realized he had stepped so close behind me. "Heather, nobody said that. There's no way you could have known about the bear."

"I saw you park yourself on that stump." Gwen set her hands on her hips. "In plain sight, no less. If that wasn't an attempt to throw the challenge, I don't know what is. Beth said you didn't waste any time sending her out for snacks. You ordered her to sneak into Chef's kitchen. You had no right to do that. And then, what did you do when you finally got your hands on your oh-so-precious chips? You handed them straight over to Cody."

I shook Trent's hands away. "I threw them on the ground. They were barbecue! He didn't have to pick them up. Chris told us when we got here that this was bear country. If Cody didn't take the warning seriously, that's his own fault. You can't say I'm responsible for that, Weird Goth Girl."

Gwen set her jaw, then turned and shoved open the door to the confessional. "I wish you'd been the one to get mauled. That would have made tonight's decision a whole lot easier for the team. Oh, I cannot wait 'til karma gets back from vacation. I'm throwing a reunion party, and I'll make sure you have a front row seat."

I took a long shower to let off some steam, but I was still fuming when Chris called us down to the campfire pit. She wished I'd been mauled? I wouldn't wish a fate like that on my own brother, even when I was eight and convinced he was the devil in disguise. Had she even so much as glanced at Cody's mangled body? Didn't she realize that I could have laid my finger fully inside any of the gashes on his face? And where had she been when Cody, swaddled in gauze, welting red scars burning on his cheeks, told the world not about the bear or Chris's negligence, but about the color of the morning sky?

I threw myself on the nearest stump because it put me as far from Beth and Cody as possible. "I mean, seriously. Twice in a row? What is wrong with you people? I can't wait to see Beth get kicked off." I glared Leshawna's way. "I just wish I could vote off two campers at once."

Leshawna opened her mouth to reply – I was starting to regret sitting beside her – when Chris stepped forward and the cameras swung around to focus on him. He rubbed his stubble. His gaze slid over every face. Especially mine, I think. He must have found out about my switching off the confession cam during my talk with Cody. I thought he was going to give me some lecture about that being a breach of my contract (it probably was, but I'd never read it), but instead he shook his head and lifted a plate from his barrel podium.

"There are only seven marshmallows on this plate," he warned. "When I call your name, come up and claim your marshmallow. The camper-"

"Who does not receive a marshmallow must immediately return to the Dock of Shame, catch the Boat of Losers, and leave." Gwen bristled as we all swung around to stare at her. "Can't we just get this over with?"

Cody tilted his head. Gazing at her, I wondered if maybe Weird Goth Girl was more upset about Cody's mauling than she'd wanted to let on to me.

Chris did not seem in the mood for fun and games. He probably had a long night of lawsuits and angry phone calls to look forward to. "Fine. Whatever, spoil the moment." He picked up the first marshmallow and gave it a toss. "Trent."

He caught it with a smile, but I noticed that as he stuffed it in his mouth and swallowed, he wouldn't look at Cody.

"Lindsay."

She didn't even bother. Her marshmallow bounced off her forehead and rolled away into the dirt. I could see her trembling hands even from where I sat.

"Owen."

I felt another flash of regret for my seating choice. After our first day on the island, we'd all learned very quickly that the number one rule at camp was 'Never put yourself between Owen and his food'. But it turned out that I didn't have to worry about being trampled. As his marshmallow sailed high above my head, Owen leaned back and caught it in his open mouth.

"Gwen."

She grabbed it, moving one arm but no other part of her body. She was looking my way, but her eyes were focused on nothingness beyond my shoulder. She didn't respond even when I gave her my best glare.

"Leshawna."

Leshawna watched as the marshmallow flew past her and into Trent's lap. When she reached back to take it from him, I saw Beth glancing my way. I sliced one finger across my throat. If I'd had my way, she'd be the one taking the boat home tonight. Leshawna and Owen hadn't bitten my 'If she turned on me then she'll turn on you' argument, though.

"Beth."

Crap.

Chris pursed his lips, sizing us up. He took the last marshmallow between his thumb and forefinger and held it up for all to see. "Campers, this is the final marshmallow tonight."

Crap crap crap.

Why was I in the bottom two again? Hadn't Trent voted Cody out? Gwen too? Leshawna had flat-out told me she was sending him home to keep Chris from milking his inability to fight back, so who had turned on me? Beth? A sudden, horrible thought flashed across my brain. Lindsay?

I should have voted for Cody. Why didn't I vote for Cody?

I could actually feel my nerves winding themselves tighter. The suspense chilled my breath. When Chris paused for dramatic effect, I sprang up and started to march towards him. Even if that marshmallow turned out to be for Cody – which I knew it wouldn't – at least I'd still have time to sock our lovely host in the throat before the interns dragged me down the dock. If it came to, I'd go out with a flair and my pride intact.

He said, "Heather."

Chris had barely gotten the word out when I snatched the marshmallow from his hand and whirled on my fellow campers, the fluffy treat high above my head.

"You are all lucky, okay? Very lucky."

Chris cleared his throat and tossed the plate aside. "Cody. The Dock of Shame awaits, bro."

Cody turned his gaze skyward. As I returned to my seat, I glanced back to see Chris's tired expression twist into a smirk.

"I guess we can help you get there."

Beth jumped to her feet, waving one hand. "I'll do it."

I closed my eyes. I'd won. I'd won. No declawed kitten was going to push me around tonight. I was no one's ball of yarn.

"Bye, Cody," murmured Gwen.

Leshawna said, "See you, buddy."

"Take care, dude."

Chris gave Cody a farewell salute and then, his day legally over, loped off towards the campground. The others trickled after him. I almost went too, but there wasn't much point when Gwen and Leshawna already had a head start. Usually brushing teeth or changing clothes at the same time resulted in the three of us spraying water and smashing toes. With tempers this frayed, I wasn't in the mood. Besides, Lindsay wanted to roast her marshmallow again and someone had to keep an eye on her. Yesterday, she'd come running into our cabin with the thing aflame. I'm pretty sure she hurled it at my bed on purpose.

As Lindsay hunted for a decent stick, I sat on a boulder that rimmed the plateau and pulled one knee up to my chest. Beth had pushed Cody about halfway down the hill towards the dock. Slow going. As I watched, his wheelchair hit a half-buried rock and flipped on its side. He didn't squirm, didn't seem to be complaining. Just lay there with his damaged cheek smashed into the grass. Beth heaved his chair upright, brushed him off as best she could, and started pushing again. She only tripped once more.

I squinted. The Boat of Losers should be waiting at the end of the dock. It always was.

Not tonight.

"Um, Heather? What do I do when I'm done roasting my marshmallow?"

"Pull it out," I called over my shoulder. Seriously, where was the boat? Was it usual for it to take so long? Not for Gopher eliminations. Maybe we'd just gotten lucky before?

"Ow!"

When I turned, I found Lindsay's fingers shoved in her mouth. She still held her stick in the flame with her other hand.

"Lindsay," I said, sliding from my boulder, "you are a living miracle. How are you still alive?"

Lindsay offered the end of the stick to me. I yanked it back from the fire and blew over the marshmallow. Then I plucked it off and popped it into my mouth. "Hey," Lindsay squealed, "Heather!"

I handed her my own marshmallow, slightly squished but still untasted. "Well done, Linds. You're improving fast. Here, you get the next one."

"Heather, that was mine!"

I shrugged and took up my perch again. "Alliance rules. Okay, I'll bite – What happened to the freakin' boat?"

She burned the second marshmallow and gave up on the fire, so I had her kick dirt over it while Beth pulled Cody to a stop at the dock's end. A quiet moment of rippling water and a starlit sky. No interns thrusting heavy cameras in your face. No interns in sight at all, actually.

"She's going to kiss him," I guessed. Good of her to take one for the team so Cody's day wouldn't be completely awful.

Lindsay blew a strand of hair back from her eyes. "You think so?"

"Oh, it's so obvious. She's been crushing on him for like a week. Did you really miss her moony eyes the other day?"

She mumbled that she probably had.

Beth bent over Cody, murmuring some last good-bye in his ear. I saw her lips make contact with his bandaged cheek and wondered if she'd still kiss him knowing how torn it was underneath. Then she drew away, running back towards the cabins with a high skip in her step. Leaving Cody to wait for the boat alone. After she'd passed our little hill without calling out to us, I hopped from my rock to help Lindsay smother the embers. Geez, it got chilly in Muskoka fast when the sun went down. I wished I'd thought to pack a couple of sweatshirts.

"Um," Lindsay said, "that's not right."

"What isn't?" I asked, burying charred bits of marshmallow. The soot stuck to my fingers, and I sat back and wondered why I hadn't left the fire for the interns to put out. Instinct, I guess. Or paranoia. Chris probably wouldn't care if half the island set itself aflame.

"Brody's wheelchair just rolled off the dock."

I jerked my head up.

"He's gone," Lindsay said, staring down at the lake.

That made me spring to my feet. The dock was clear, but the Boat of Losers was still nowhere in sight. No wake ripples. No interns. No nothing, aside from a scattered handful of bubbles. Puzzled, I took a few steps closer to Lindsay.

"Can he breathe underwater?" she asked. "Because I'm pretty sure humans don't have gills unless one of their parents was a mermaid."

"Chef will get him out."

We waited, watching the bubbles. I counted to ten twice over. Lindsay put one hand on my arm.

"Heather?"

I shoved her away and took off for the main lodge. "Chris! Chris!" My wedges sent me stumbling down the hill, ankles twisting and untwisting half a dozen times, but I managed to keep my balance as I slammed into the lodge door. "Chris, open up! Open up- it's Cody!"

Lindsay grabbed the handle and thrust the door open, spilling us both across the floor of the mess hall. Chris sat at a table nearby. He cradled a mug in one hand and leafed through some official-looking papers with the other. When we tumbled in, he jerked back so fast that his coffee spilled black all down his blue shirt.

"Heather, Lindsay, dudes, if you ever interrupt my Me-Time again, I will personally assign-"

"It's Cody." I untangled myself from Lindsay's crushing embrace and flapped a hand in the general direction of the lake. "His wheelchair fell off the dock and no one's there-"

Chris's face turned so ghostly pale that it rivaled Gwen's. He swore and charged past us out the lodge, coffee sloshing from his mug. Lindsay and I followed him to the door. I was impressed: Chris could run fast for a man who spent most of his time being fawned over by make-up stylists.

"Ow! Lindsay, get your claws out of my arm."

"Is Colby going to be okay?"

I pushed her from my shoulder. "Chris is helping him."

Lindsay sized me up with a long sideways glance. I looked at her, then back towards the end of the dock. Chris was pacing there, occasionally stopping to peer over the edge. One hand was wrapped around his mug. The second was cupped at his mouth. I heard him calling for Chef and getting no response.

"Oh," I said, "duh. Of course Pretty-Boy wouldn't be any actual help on his own. Lindsay, get Bridgette. And anyone else you find who looks relatively useful. Fast as you can."

"But she-"

"Go!" I shooed her off, and this time she went with a scramble. With her sufficiently occupied, I marched down the dock. Chris glanced anxiously up when he heard my clicking heels, then at the water again. A shark fin sliced through a distant wave.

"Um, hello? What's the hold-up over here?"

Chris shook his head and took another sip of his coffee. It must have gone cold during his sprint, because he spat it out and then dumped the rest into the lake. The mug he handed to me. "Chef Hatchet still hasn't come back from fixing the boat! Izzy and the beavers really did a number on it the other night. There was Happy Sap everywhere and the craft services tent got plowed over by this moose and I actually had to pour my own coffee and my stylist fell asleep in the fridge and my phone battery is dead and my toenails still need to be trimmed and nothing has gone right for me all day!"

"Izzy and…" As much as I wanted to ask, I figured we had a more pressing issue to deal with. As Chris scrubbed furiously at his hair, I grabbed him by the elbow. "Chris, what are we going to do about Cody?"

"Who? Oh yeah. Uh, well, we know he isn't dead yet." Chris pointed to the air bubbles that had gathered on the surface of the lake. "So that's good news, at least."

"What the heck are you waiting for? He's still down there. He's going to drown!"

He stared at me, gripping black tufts of hair, his eyes stretched to a size that no eye should ever go.

"Chris, don't tell me you can't swim."

"Chef Hatchet will be back any second. He'll fish him out and-"

"He's not coming."

Chris recoiled like I'd slapped his cheek. Tears glittered in the corners of his eyes. "He can't die! I can't waive responsibility for that. I'll be sued!" While my jaw hit the deck, he looked around frantically for something helpful. Anything helpful.

He grabbed my waist and hoisted me above his head. "Don't you dare!" I shrieked, dropping the mug, but he dared. Really, I don't know why I was surprised.

The icy water shocked me, which was stupid because I'd been up to my knees in it yesterday. I flailed back to surface in a cloud of bubbles, hacking hard.

"McLean! You- You- That was way overstepping th-the line!"

"Heh heh! Oh man, you should see your face! That was just great. I'm so glad I added that 'or human projectile' bit to your contracts. Chef told me to put it in, but I never thought I'd actually get to use it! … Oh yeah. Guess you'd better go fetch Cody, dude. Poor guy can't swim with busted arms."

Goosebumps exploded from my wrists to my shoulders. I grabbed the dock, but Chris nudged my fingers off with the tip of his shoe. I shuddered, treading water.

"You kn-know what, Chris? Achoo! I think I will. One of us has to be the adult here."

While I wriggled out of my heels, Chris turned to face the empty dock and spread his arms. "Will two campers' little lives fizzle out in the course of a single night? Will I be forced to make tremendous budget cuts to pay off potential lawsuits? Whatever could have happened to Chef and Izzy? Find out when we come back, on Total! Drama! Isla-"

I plugged him in the shoulder with both shoes and splashed under.

Cody wasn't difficult to find- his bandages rendered him bright white against a desert of gray pebbles. He'd fallen on his left side among bits of drifting gauze. Silver fish nibbled at his hair. I floundered towards him and he looked up. Still conscious, but his face was bright red from holding too much breath too long. I realized for I think the first time that his eyes were electric blue.

I grabbed the handle of his wheelchair and yanked hard. It budged across the pebbles, but not enough. Not enough. Maybe I'd budged towards it rather than the other way around. Weighed down like this, I'd never be able to carry him to surface.

I hovered there in the water, trying to bite back my rising panic. My lungs beat against my ribcage. Couldn't be close to how awful Cody must be feeling; I ignored it.

His eyelids were flickering. His face had turned a sickly purple. I gave the wheelchair handle another fierce tug, then abandoned it and pushed myself to fresh air again.

Chris knelt on the dock above my head, chewing on his fingernails. When I popped up, he pointed to his watch. "Tick tock, tick tock."

I grabbed his wrist, Chris shrieked, and Cody's air bubbles stopped coming.

"Crap." I took a great gulp of air and plunged under again. Faster. Faster.

But when I came close, I saw that Cody's eyelids had fallen shut. The bandages were still folded over his mouth. His arms had crumpled against his chest. A crab scuttled over his casted wrist.

He was…

… dead.

I was surprised that I didn't feel upset about it. I'd never witnessed a death before, even when we had to put down my chocolate lab when I was nine. That had been distant. Another room, another world. And then this was personal. Cody had been my fellow Gopher. Yes, we hadn't spoken aside from the gagging incident, but we'd sat across the table from each other on more than one occasion. He'd been a step behind me when that raccoon had run off with the chocolate bars I'd pinched from Chef. Just that morning I'd seen him smiling after Gwen. Smiling that stupid, optimistic gap-tooth grin. And now I'd just watched his life slip away.

Nothing. I was numb.

Gwen had been right. I really didn't have a heart anymore.

I swam down to his side, wondering what my problem was. At least there wasn't any blood. The sharks would leave his body alone, right? I lay my fingers against his swollen cheek, feeling for the gashes. Cody, the first death of camp, enshrined too soon to a watery grave.

I realized then that I didn't know his last name, and that finally stung me. I wondered what Chris would tell the viewers. And what he'd tell Cody's parents.

His arm twitched against the belt of his chair.

I jerked back, spewing bubbles. I think I yelled his name, and then I was slashing at the belt and buckle with my nails. It snapped. Cody's tiny, injured body lurched upwards. I kicked after him, wrapping my arm around his waist. We passed Harold, fumbling towards the lake bottom in his pajamas and without his glasses on, and then the two of us burst to surface together.

I heard screaming. Bridgette lay on the dock between Geoff and Lindsay, arms outstretched. Harold broke the surface on my right. He grabbed Cody's other arm and helped me drag him over. Geoff and Bridgette took hold of his shoulders.

"Heather," Bridgette said, "you have to let go."

"Easy does it," said Geoff. Together they hauled him onto the dock, soaked bandages and all.

"Gosh!" Harold sneezed water on my shoulder. He unclipped his glasses from the collar of his shirt and slid them on his nose. "What happened to Chris?"

Geoff yanked the bandages off Cody's face by the handful. "Heck. I think he went to look for Chef, but I didn't get the chance to ask before the guy went flying like there were a dozen sharks riding his- Oh man, what happened to you, little dude?"

Lindsay pressed her hands over her mouth. "I think I'm gonna puke."

I shot her a glare.

"Chris should be here!" Harold shook his head and started to climb out. "We could probably sue him for abandonment and reckless disregard of human life. Courtney said so. When I spent a summer at Attorney Steve's Legality Camp, my whole team tracked down and arrested this one guy who'd kidnapped an alpaca from the petting zoo my church had set up in the park-"

Bridgette pumped on Cody's chest, counting meaningless numbers and chanting a spell. I watched, frozen, as she knelt over him and enveloped his lips with a sloppy kiss.

That was too much. Spitting, I scrambled back onto the dock with Geoff and Lindsay hoisting me over. My flailing hand knocked one of my shoes from the platform and into the water. I spared it a mournful glance, then scurry-crawled to Cody's side.

"What are you doing?" I grabbed Bridgette's forearm and tried to shove her away. "Get your hippo lips off him, Surfer Girl! He's having a hard enough time breathing as it is. You're smothering him!"

Bridgette returned to crushing Cody's chest, counting still and staring at me like I'd gotten jacked up on sugar-coated grapes again. Lindsay opened her mouth, then snapped it shut. Harold shrugged. Geoff placed one hand on my shoulder.

"Whoa, chill out, Heather. Dude's gonna be fine. Bridgette's kind of a wiz when it comes to this CPR breathing stuff. You know, she's like an elephant, or a big blimp."

"… Excuse me?"

"Because you're filling him with your air!"

I slapped Geoff's wrist and started to wring out a fistful of my hair. With my other hand, I reached towards an exposed patch of red flesh on Cody's hip. His face, it seemed, was not the only place the bear had decided to sharpen its teeth and claws. Harold pulled my hand away and I forced it back. My finger traced along the deepest gash. It sank in up to my first knuckle.

Cody coughed. Lindsay screamed. Geoff and Harold abandoned me to lift him into a sitting position, his legs spread and his clunky arms set between his fat feet. His blue eyes blinked open. They focused on the planks of the dock. Then he threw up in Bridgette's lap. Like the flip of a light switch, her medical professionalism caved in, and she started to cry.

"That is so gross," Lindsay whimpered.

"Okay, show's over now." I wrapped my arms around Cody's chest and pulled him away from Bridgette. "The geekwad's still alive. Everyone can go home. See you in the morning."

Cody let out a pathetic noise. I squeezed him tighter, and that made him groan again. "Um, Heather," said Bridgette, snatching for my hand.

"Get away, loser!" My heart thudded like leaping bass. Blood raced and tumbled in my ears. "What are you all looking at? Stares are for buildings. Let the dork be. He's been through enough for one day."

Bridgette stayed on her knees, her mouth hanging slightly agape. Geoff pushed back his hat to scratch his scalp. Harold narrowed his eyes. Even Lindsay took a step back. In my arms, Cody mumbled pointless words.

I buried my face in his bandaged shoulder. The wrappings clung to my nose, sticky with wet. I let myself feel the rapid heaving of his chest. Swell up. Fade in. My throat made the same motion, but I still couldn't make myself cry. And I didn't feel like crying over Cody's second brush with death anyway. No, I felt like crying… because I didn't feel like crying for him. If that made any sense.

Heartless.

"Heather. Whoa, Heather." Geoff's sandal materialized at the rim of my vision. "Don't freak out. Everything's totally chill right now."

Harold reached around Cody so he could set both hands on my cheeks. "It looks to me like you're suffering shock and trauma. That's understandable and not unexpected, but it may develop into acute emotional stress and stuff, first described by Walter Cannon in 1924- one year after the invention of Reese's Peanut Butter Cups. If I didn't know you so well then I'd warn you it could shift into PTSD. Come to think of it, we'll probably all suffer from that by the time we're out of here. Heather, look at me. Focus in. Just relax all your muscles, Heather. It's going to be okay."

"Get your grubby paws off me!" I shook my head, sending Cody whimpering as my chin scraped along his cheek. As Geoff took another step forward, I scrambled to my feet and began to back towards the lake. Cody's heels dragged along the dock.

"Heather," Lindsay said. "Heather, don't. Please, put him back. If he takes any more damage, he'll die!"

When I gazed down the dock, I spotted Chris tearing across the campground with Chef and a handful of interns hard on his heels. I shifted closer to the water, legitimately debating if I should jump. Just for a little while- just until Chris got bored and wandered away. Harold jerked towards me and I almost slipped. Cody squirmed in my grip. His casted arms thunked together at the wrists.

"Who…? Bridgette?"

She dabbed her eyes with the end of her hoody sleeve. "Yes?"

Cody coughed several times, dribbling saliva down my arms, and lifted his left foot. "I… I lost my shoe when I was in the woods. I want it back." His lower lip trembled and he finally collapsed into sobs. "I want it back."

"Excuse me?" I gave him a shake. "Who just pulled you out of the lake? Who just saved your life? Can I maybe get a thank you?"

He didn't hear. He was crying, and Bridgette was crying, and Harold was crying, and Geoff was trying his hardest not to join in. It was very late and we were all burned out from a long day of walking in the sun, but I still didn't feel any tears dripping down my cheeks. My heart pumped only numbness through my veins. Lindsay didn't look shaken by the mess either. She stood there with her arms crossed as Chris and Chef came pounding up the dock.

Chef, breathing hard through his nose, held out his arms to me. "Hand him over, girl. Kid needs his bandages redone."

"He's alive!" Chris let out a whoop and grabbed both Cody and me, crushing us against his chest in what I think was meant to be a hug. "He's still alive!"

Cody yelped. I aimed a kick at Chris's groin, but before my foot could connect, he crouched down so he'd be closer to Cody's level. "Haha- Oh man! First the costume party, then a bear mauling, then an elimination, and then a drowning scare? How much fun did you have today, brah?"

"Shut up, Chris," I started to say, but Cody cut me off with a moan.

"I'm… so hungry, Chef."

Chef glanced down at Chris and shrugged; Chris ruffled the wet tufts of Cody's hair that poked from his bandages. "Okey dokster, Codester. Heh heh ha. So long as you promise you won't sue the show, Chef Hatchet here'll cook you up a nice, fat plate of delicious pancakes tonight. All for you."

The others broke into complaints about how that was so unfair, though it wasn't. Chef sighed and reached out for Cody again. I stepped back, only to bump into Geoff and Harold.

"Come on, girl. Kid's eliminated. Ya'll ain't supposed to see him anymore. We'll fix him up all nice back at the ol' infirmary. Take good care of him."

Like I was going to fall for that trick a second time.

Harold leaned so close to my ear that I could feel the hairs on his chinny chin chin. "I know you're feeling all confused right now, Heather, and after everything you just went through to rescue him, you're finding it hard to surrender him over to like, Chris and stuff. But Chef's the one who rescued Cody from the bear in the first place, remember? He looked after him then, and he'll look after him now. Promise."

I shrugged my shoulder into his jaw. "Get away from me, dork."

He lay one hand on my wrist and forced me to look him in the eyes. The moonlight reflected green off his glasses and made little squares dance across my arm. "You did good, Heather. It wasn't your fault. None of it was. You can't blame yourself, or anyone. These things just happen sometimes. Now, let Chef take Cody to get better and then go get some rest. You'll feel more like yourself again in the morning."

My fingers slipped from their hold. I relinquished my wet grip, and Chef peeled Cody from my arms with his enormous dark hands. He placed the frail, mummified body over his shoulder, patted Cody's back as he whimpered, and started to walk away. I took two steps after them. Bridgette looped one arm around my shoulders. She tried to lead me towards the Gopher cabin, but I shoved her off and marched to the bathrooms without a word.

Once there I flicked on the lights, scattering centipedes into the corners. I wrung water from my crop top. My bare feet slapped against tiled floor. I'd left my shoes at the end of the dock. Shoe, anyway. I'd have to ask Lindsay to make a dive for the other before she went to bed.

I braced my hands on either side of the nearest sink, staring into my reflection. The cracks in the mirror cut jagged lines along my face and broke it up in a lopsided twist.

Cody had died. Chris had just let him die.

I lowered my forehead to the porcelain and my knees to the floor. I cried for twenty minutes. About Chris's staggering cruelty. About how Cody had been injured, possibly paralyzed for life. About the way Beth had turned on me today. About how many times I'd been shot with paintballs at close range. About the undercooked venison we'd had for dinner. About how cold the floor was. About the wetness of my shirt. About how Cody's mauling really was my fault, even if Harold insisted otherwise. By the time Chris came to tell me it was lights out, I'd returned to my senses. I rinsed my face, kicked him in both shins, and stormed for my cabin.

I really wanted to win the hundred thousand dollars. But at the same time, I wanted to go home.