Charlotte Langdon
1. Ferro rod
2. Paracord (blaze orange)
3. Snare wire
4. Fish hooks (barbless)
5. Gill net
6. Folding saw
7. Multi-tool
8. Bow & arrows
9. Axe
10. Tarp
Miscellaneous: Bible, King James, Prozac (prescription)
You only stay out of the trap until you're hungry enough to take the bait.
-Phillip Wilsom
Day 1 - 10:45 am
10 people remain
It was beautiful. Charlie thought this was the most beautiful place she'd ever seen, and she made sure to say it into the camera she held. That was the job, after all. Talk into the camera, get paid. Optional: pretend you aren't crazy for talking into a camera by repeating that you're getting paid.
This is what it had come to, sitting on a wet rock somewhere in Canada, talking to a camera while her butt went numb and her ears turned pink from the cold. But it was money, and Charlie needed money, badly.
She swung the camera around the clearing she had chosen for her shelter, catching herself in the second camera that was poised to pick up a wider angle.
"Home sweet home!"
It was the furthest thing from the truth, standing in ankle deep rotting leaves, already nursing a deep throbbing in her back from carrying the loaded camera bag to her chosen spot. It felt right though. Home.
The word felt bitter in her mouth, turning her stomach with the acrid heat of shame. As she absently kicked a rotten log, the scent of mold and decay filled her nostrils with a satisfying sting. Maybe home was the right word after all.
Day 4 - 2:16 pm
9 people remain
The fish were slow today, but Charlie was patient. At the end of the day, the only thing she had enough of was time. She captured her attempt to build a fish basket (almost certain to fail, but lack of projects equald lack of sanity out here) from her large tripod-seated camera and the GoPro strapped to her forehead. She hoped they could time lapse the hideously slow progress of her fingers into something vaguely watchable, but they might trash the footage anyway.
She wasn't sure if she cared or not.
"Let's get this puppy baited up and in the water. The more traps I can get down before the cold really sets in, the better," she said, wiping her running nose on the arm of her jacket, the frosty air tickling her nostrils into a steady drip.
Day 13 - 8:23 am
7 people remain
She was almost sure it was a Friday, day thirteen. It didn't bode well for her, she thought, as she rolled out of her sleeping bag into a crouch under the low roof of her shelter.
It had taken her three days and an unforgivable amount of snare wire to build this pathetic pile of branches and pine boughs she now lived in, and she hoped her inexperience didn't show as much as she feared. Still, the indoor (if you could call it that) fireplace was coming along nicely, and the pile of stripped sticks destined to be her smoking rack was just waiting for enough daylight to film by.
As she exited the break in the wall she had taken to calling "the front door," a rabbit casually hopped into the thicket about forty yards ahead of her. Maybe this was her lucky day after all.
She ducked back inside to grab her dwindling reel of snare wire and a fresh memory card for her camera, hoping the battery was fresh enough for another hour or two of footage.
Day 20 - 4:36 pm
5 people remain
She was regretting her choice of undershirt as she sat in her newly constructed blind, shivering in the brisk late fall wind. She had spilled half of the pot of water she had been using to clean
a freshly gutted fish on herself yesterday, and the heavy knit wool was slow to dry, and stank horribly as it clung damply to her breast.
If she got this doe she could celebrate with a day of laundry. If.
Line up the shot
Inhale
Draw
Exhale
Release.
Day 24 - 9:52 am
5 people remain
Med check day. She wasn't looking forward to it. She had been eating well, and figured she couldn't have lost too much weight. Her mind flashed to her last conversation with Greg, the one where he had called a fat pig and threatened to leave, her wrist held over her head in the vice-like grip of his hand. She didn't like threats, so she left first.
Those bruises had taken weeks to fade.
She wasn't particularly worried about the med check, she was worried about leaving. She had come out here to escape, there wasn't much farther she could have run. If they made her go back she had no idea where she would go.
She could hear the boat now, and her heart climbed into her throat. I need to stay I need to stay I need to stay running through her head on a constant loop. Then they were there, with their cameras and their scale and their blood pressure cuff and she was taking her shoes off and dang, it was cold.
"How did this happen?" The medic with the kind face was asking her, gently turning her bandaged hand over in his own.
"The same way it always happens. I was stupid. I made a mistake."
"May I?" He asked, inclining his head toward her hand. At her sharp nod he began unwrapping the dirty gauze, his finger feather light on her skin. Her breath hitched as he uncovered the ugly cut in the meat of her palm, but she did her best to hide her nerves. She knew what men did with weakness.
"It doesn't look infected," he said, shaking his head slightly, "did you clean it well?"
"Do I look stupid?"
He returned her scowl with a silly grin.
"Well, you did just say you were, in fairness to me."
"Point to you... Gabe," she said, shortening the "Gabriel" she saw embroidered on the breast of his windbreaker.
"Oof, that's what my dad used to call me."
"What, is he dead or something?"
"Nope, just in prison," Gabriel's grin had turned wry.
"Oh... sorry?"
"I'm not."
His blue gloves felt tacky against her skin as he carefully re-wrapped her hand. "I think it will heal just fine, but if you start to notice any signs of infection, you know the number," he said, winking and turning away to pack up his kit. "See you next week, Charlotte."
She found the corners of her mouth lifting slightly and instantly forced them down. She would not show him that. She would stay safe.
Day 30 - 10:16 am
4 people remain
She didn't know much about bears. The extent of her training was "avoid" and she intended to do just that. The mother bear and her cub had been hunting near her best fishing spot recently, but she had made sure to always dump her entrails far from camp and slept with her air horn next to her.
She inventoried her remaining deer meat. The neat strips hung in orderly rows from the ceiling, having smoked for days over her fire and been deemed safe. She had decided to stick to a moderate ration, just high enough to keep her energy up and slow her weight loss to an acceptable crawl. At this pace she figured she had about ten days of venison left.
"Looks like it's time to head back to the lake; fish is back on the menu, boys."
She really hoped they didn't use that.
Day 38 - 11:36 am
4 people remain
"I've figured it out." Charlie said over the hiss of the blood pressure cuff releasing.
"Oh yeah? What's that?" Gabriel asked, tearing the velcro closure open and folding the cuff back into his kit.
"What to call you, obviously."
Not... my name?"
"Nope," Charlie said proudly, "that's kid stuff."
"Right, calling each other by our Christian names is definitely immature. Go on."
"Gabby. It's so obvious I almost missed it!"
Gabriel sighed, aggrieved, but Charlie saw he was holding back a grin and found her own face betraying her in a smile. "What, you don't like it?" She asked, her hand over her heart in mock offense.
"It's lovely, Charles, I think I'll keep it."
She grumbled angrily at the new moniker, but smiled as soon as he turned his back and headed toward the boat with the rest of the med team, waving over his shoulder to her as he walked.
Day 42 - 8:02 am
3 people remain
She stared into the camera as early morning sun bathed her camp. "How many are left? A month and a half... that's a long time to be alone." She looked out toward the water of what she now considered to be "her" cove. The mother bear and her rapidly fattening cub were tiny specks in the distance, but she swung her larger camera toward them, engaging the zoom fully. "See? I'm not really alone out here after all."
She felt like she was getting close to her goal. The hungry gnawing of grief and guilt inside of her was growing steadily quieter day by day. She was tired of running.
Day 45 - 3:49 pm
2 people remain
"My replacement gill net is coming along nicely, I found this cordage washed into my bay on day thirty, and this is the perfect project for it."
Her hands worked the cord as she talked, intricate diamonds forming with every tiny knot, but her brain was working a different problem. Gabriel. She thought of his easy smile and his kind words, and his hands. His hands were always so gentle, so warm... so different from Greg's.
With the regular med checks they had formed a fast rapport, but the last time he has seemed even friendlier than usual. "You need to put on some weight!" He said, poking her playfully in the ribs, "I make a mean curry if you ever find yourself in town."
"Are you - are you flirting with me?" She asked, trying to hide how pleased she was under a mask of outrage.
"Of course not, Charles. That wouldn't be professional now, would it?"
As she tied the last few knots needed to complete the row, she did her best to rid her mind of him.
She failed.
Day 51 - 10:12 pm
2 people remain
She wondered how many people were left. Out of the thousands and thousands of hearts beating, lungs working the cold air in the forest around her, how many belonged to her own species?
It had gotten so cold, and the woods seemed to be frozen, charged with a waiting energy, a hunger she couldn't ignore. They were all hungry here. Hungry for light and warmth and the color green and water that stayed unfrozen. Hungry for each other.
Day 58 - 2:18 pm
1 person remains
Stupid. Stupid stupid stupid, she had been so stupid. And now she was going to die.
The bear and her cub had been getting more familiar recently, but Charlie wasn't too worried. She ignored them and they ignored her and that was that. Until today.
You only stay out of the trap until you're hungry enough to take the bait.
Charlie pulled the yellow brick out by feel, knowing exactly how to angle her shaking fingers under the snap on its holster, an easy confidence to the action borne of practice. She brought the sat phone close to her face before she noticed it was covered in blood. She hadn't been expecting it, but how could she be surprised? She flipped open the clear plastic cover of the panic button, and with a herculean effort pressed down hard.
That task done she allowed herself to drift. At least they'd know where to find her body.
The same pain that had lulled her into the grey semi-consciousness woke her. It took her a minute to realize someone was touching her, and she bit back a scream as they pressed near a particularly deep gash in her side.
"Am... am I d-dead?" She gasped at the pair of eyes looking into hers. She was so cold and she wished she could get into dry clothes. That's what you did, right? Wet clothes were bad out here and she was soaking wet and if she could just get up, come on stupid, get up.
"You calling me an angel, Charles? I'm touched."
"Gab...by..." she choked out through the pain dancing through her skull. Maybe it was the shock, but she thought he might just be the most beautiful man alive. He was warm and he was bright and in that moment he was her own personal sun in the eternal winter. She smiled at him, wide and wanting, and felt warm liquid slip over her lips.
His hair fell momentarily over his eyes as he continued his examination of her wrecked torso.
"Nah, you're still as firmly on earth as I am, Charles. Just a bit scratched up, but we'll slap some tape on you and you'll be good as new."
She knew he was lying, but she didn't care. His voice was a rock, anchoring her to a shore she couldn't see as wave after wave of pain threatened to pull her into deeper water. She let her eyes close, knowing he wouldn't let her drift too far from shore.
"Sir, we need to move," an unfamiliar voice said from somewhere to her left, "we don't have the gear to handle this."
"Just hold on! We can't get her onto the board until I've stopped this bleeder."
White hot pain pierced her heart, and if she could have died then she would have. Something was digging into her chest and someone was screaming and it was killing her, couldn't they see it was killing her?
Gabriel was speaking again, and she heard her name. "Charlotte, we're going to move you now, okay? Just hold on."
From somewhere far away she heard a voice, low and hoarse muttering "please please please" over and over again. She wished they would stop.
Then she was flying, her body weightless for blessed seconds before it crashed back to earth, jarring all of the broken pieces of what was left of her and she wished she was dead. Why couldn't she just be dead.
Then Gabriel was back and he was holding her face and shouting at her and couldn't he just let her die? But he just kept shouting, the meaning of the words drowned out by the roaring in her ears, but he was so alive. So warm and so alive and his hands were like the sun on her face and she wanted so badly to be warm.
And then something clicked in her head, a snapping back of her brain to her body and she wanted to scream or cry or anything to make it stop. But he was whispering now and she could hear him over the thump thump thump of air and the whoosh thud whoosh of blood.
"Don't you dare die on me, Charlotte. Don't you dare waste this. You know how we were able to get to you so quickly? We were already on our way when we got your signal. You won, Charlotte.
"You won."