The Last One (27 page)

After this confessional comes a montage, complete with pump-’em-up music. It’s kitschy; it’s catchy. Air Force’s gait becomes increasingly secure under Black Doctor’s watchful eye. Waitress struggles to carve a figure-four-deadfall trap; her cuts into the wood are sloppy and often on the wrong side of the sticks—and then: It works. Her cuts aren’t quite perfect and her hands are covered in nicks and blisters, but the trap stands, precariously supporting the weight of a long, heavy stick. She’s so happy she tears up. Banker builds a snare that actually catches a squirrel. Carpenter Chick and Engineer weave together branches to create a lattice roof for their shelter. Engineer has taken to wearing his maroon-and-brown bandana as a do-rag. Almost everyone is learning to gut and skin small game; Exorcist is a natural. He collects the tail of each squirrel he preps, lets the stub dry, then stuffs it in his pack.

Already the contestants look skinnier, tougher. Faces and hands are perpetually smudged with dirt. Biology’s breasts have shrunk and her cheekbones have grown flirtatious in compensation. The group’s average skin tone has darkened a shade; the camp is largely in shadow, but they are outdoors, always. Zoo has become the primary fire caretaker, and her jacket is dotted with tiny burn holes from floating, snapping sparks. In one shot Tracker stands beside her, almost smiling as she shows him her perforated sleeve, the fire behind them, flames appearing on either side but not between. Nearly everyone has a rip in the knee of their jeans or the cuff of their shirt. Engineer’s green boxers can be glimpsed through a small tear beneath his back pocket.

One negative line runs through the montage: Exorcist. He has been invited back into the group, and though he accepted the invitation with apparent humility, he undermines the efforts of the others. He nudges Waitress’s figure-four with his boot to set it off, then winks at the camera. While collecting firewood he stays away just long enough and brings back just little enough that everyone suspects he’s slacking, but the only way to prove it would be to quit and watch this episode when it airs. His boldest but quietest move: Late one night he urinates into one of Waitress’s water bottles. He dumps it out and fills the bottle with clean water, but in the morning Waitress notices a slightly acidic taste she can’t identify.

Montage slides finally into scene: the contestants sitting around the fire following their third full day of group camp. While everyone else chats and bonds, Exorcist carves the ends of his dowsing rod into points. Zoo is stewing the day’s catch—a rabbit—with rice and dandelion greens. Carpenter Chick sits close to her and the two joke about joining a commune or kibbutz. “Maybe they’ll make an exception for our not being Jewish,” says Zoo, “now that we’re homesteaders.” Across the fire, Black Doctor is practicing tying a square knot with his yellow bandana and Air Force’s dark blue. Tracker is reclining, eyes closed, taking a rest all agree is well earned.

Exorcist stands suddenly and chucks his sharpened dowsing rod over Waitress’s head into the dark woods. He chases after it, crying, “Got one!” Waitress is startled, but once Exorcist sprints past her she simply rolls her eyes. “He
wants
a reaction,” she says. Tracker’s lids crack open and he surveys the group. Zoo gives him a thumbs-up and he returns to his rest.

That night, unknown to the contestants, the first episode of
In the Dark
airs. Viewers watch Cheerleader Boy stalk off on his own; they watch him fail.

The next night Exorcist takes two of his collected squirrel tails and ties them in place over his ears with his bandana. “What now?” asks Rancher, as Exorcist begins to dance a bowing, twirling dance.

“I feel them,” Exorcist cries. He flails his arms and spins. “I hear them!” One of the squirrel tails flies loose, landing in Banker’s lap.

Banker picks it up with two fingers and considers tossing it in the fire. “
Who
exactly are you hearing?” he asks.

Exorcist spins close, grabs the tail from Banker’s loose grip. And now he’s singing, “They want us to leave! They bid us to go-oh-oh!” His voice, so irritating when spoken, is surprisingly soothing in song.

“He should talk less and sing more,” says Air Force. Black Doctor nods.

More dancing, and the other tail falls, a gray fluttering at Biology’s feet. Exorcist poses, thrusting his arms back and bending his front knee, and howls, flushing an owl from a nearby tree. His howl drifts to a close and Exorcist hops to perfect posture. “It’s okay,” he announces. “The spirits say we can stay.”

No one is even looking at him.

The next day, Carpenter Chick and Zoo are sitting together on a fallen tree. Carpenter Chick is carving a crude spatula while Zoo hones a figure-four deadfall. “They should have kicked him off, or at least confiscated his cross,” says Carpenter Chick. “I know,” says Zoo, in the tone of
you’ve said this before.
Then Zoo looks up, perplexed. Someone is approaching, crunching heavily through the woods. She knows it’s not another one of the contestants. Even the noisiest woods walker among them has adjusted, moving now with steps that are at least careful if not quiet. These steps are proud and destructive. They are alien. Carpenter Chick looks up too, and a moment later the host appears, as clean and arrogant as ever, several cameramen in tow.

“Good morning!” he booms. Zoo and Carpenter Chick exchange a glance, and Zoo mouths,
Morning?
They’ve been awake since sunrise; ten o’clock feels much later to them than it does to the host, who awoke only two hours ago. “Gather ’round, it’s time for your next Challenge.”

Everyone but Tracker and Air Force, who are out checking traps, quickly assembles around the fallen tree. The on-site producer says into a radio, “Bring them in.” Fourteen minutes later, Air Force’s blond eyebrows jump upon seeing the host. Tracker betrays no surprise; he feels none. When a cameraman appeared and told them, calmly, that they were needed back at camp, he reasoned it was time for another scripted event.

“What you’ve all accomplished over the last few days is very impressive,” says the host. “But it’s time to leave it all behind for another Team Challenge.” He asks Waitress and Air Force to step forward. “As the winners of our last Challenge”—surprise flashes across Waitress’s face; her victory feels so long ago—“you each get to pick three teammates. The remaining contestants will form a third team.”

“Ad tenebras dedi,”
says Carpenter Chick.

Even the host is for a moment flabbergasted.

Zoo gives a surprised
huh.
The other night while they were cooking together, Carpenter Chick told Zoo she was thinking of leaving, but she’d said it in the same tone with which she had talked about joining a kibbutz. Zoo didn’t understand then how much it bothered Carpenter Chick that Exorcist didn’t face any repercussions for abandoning his team and an injured man, but she does now.

“What are you doing?” asks Engineer. He liked working on the shelter with Carpenter Chick, teasing each other about pulleys and levers, cracking geeky pop-culture jokes that are all cut by the editor because they reference shows on competing networks.

Biology touches Carpenter Chick’s arm. “You can’t give up now,” she says; her teacherly self sees a high-achieving individual refusing to achieve. A few of the others mutter incoherent objections.

“Sorry,” says Carpenter Chick. “But I’m done.” That’s all she is allowed before being whisked away. Her reasons for leaving will be boiled down to a simple statement: “I knew I wasn’t going to win and I wasn’t feeling Fan Favorite, so I thought,
Why stay?
” But this isn’t precisely true; she thinks she had a shot—not at first, but second or third maybe. When she adds, “It’s not worth it,” she’s not referring to the prize money, or her time.

The faces of the ten remaining contestants are a study in surprise—except for Tracker’s. He stands at the end of the line, impassive. The host confers briefly with the producer, then announces a change of rules: Waitress and Air Force will now each pick two teammates instead of three, and the remaining contestants will become a team of four.

He stands before Waitress and puts out his hands, fists closed. “Pick one.” Waitress taps his right hand, which blossoms into an empty palm. The left reveals a mottled pebble. “You get first pick,” says the host to Air Force.

Air Force is going to pick his best friend. It’s obvious, so obvious that even Tracker is surprised when he is chosen instead. It’s a gamble. Air Force is noticeably tense until Waitress picks Zoo. Then he chooses Black Doctor, who smiles at him, understanding and approving of his strategy. Waitress rounds out her team with Rancher, whose quiet steadfastness she finds soothing.

“What, no one wants me?
Again?
” Exorcist says, as he moves to stand with Engineer, Biology, and Banker. Being divided after working together for so long feels strange to many of the contestants. The last few days lulled them into a false sense of cooperation—which was, of course, the point.

The host gives them the TV version of their instructions:

“Three friends came into these woods yesterday for a day hike. None were seasoned hikers and they were overconfident. They didn’t bring water or food or a map. Midday yesterday they reached the peak, where they became separated. They’re lost. It’s up to you to find them, and it is imperative that you do so before sunset.”

The groups are given clarifying instructions off camera—“When you find your hiker,” says the host, “you
must
verify his identity”—as well as a couple hours to pack their meager belongings and return their camp to a more natural state. But not a fully natural state—they are instructed to leave their shelter. The producers want to make it the focal point of a social media contest, allow a fan to win a weekend stay in the lean-to.

Eventually—and it is mid-afternoon now—the contestants are led back to the clearing where they began their bear-tracking Challenge five days ago. From there, each team is led to the “last known location” of their specific target and given an envelope containing information about him.

The groups are signaled to begin. Out of one another’s sight, Waitress, Air Force, and Engineer rip open their respective envelopes.

“Timothy Hamm,” says Waitress. “Caucasian male, age twenty-six. Five-eleven, one hundred eighty-two pounds. Brown hair, brown eyes. Last seen wearing jeans and a red fleece jacket.” As she reads, viewers will see an image of an actor fitting that description.

The same occurs as Air Force and Engineer read about their targets, respectively:

“Abbas Farran, Caucasian male, age twenty-five, five-ten, one hundred sixty-five pounds, black hair, brown eyes. Last seen wearing a yellow sweater and jeans.”

And “Eli Schuster, Caucasian male, age twenty-six, five-eight, one hundred sixty-one pounds, brown hair, hazel eyes. Last seen wearing a blue T-shirt, white vest, and cargo pants.”

At Abbas’s picture, many viewers will say things like “Arab,” “Islamist,” and “Terrorist,” with varying intonations. “No way they’re friends” will be the common refrain. But in this case, the show is misrepresenting reality less blatantly than usual. The friendship between the Jewish and Muslim actors is real; it’s why they were cast. Though neither had met the man playing Timothy Hamm before this gig.

This Challenge is intended to be the climax of the premiere week, but it starts out slowly. Air Force defers to Tracker and their team sets off after Abbas, whose passage through a tight thicket is marked by snapped branches, scuffed ground cover, and, most tellingly, a duo of yellow threads pulled from his sweater by thorns.

At Waitress’s urging, Zoo takes the lead for their team. “This is going to be fun,” Zoo tells her partners, both of whom look at her dubiously. She quickly finds the boot prints and red threads marking Timothy’s passage.

The third group struggles from the start. Exorcist and Banker argue over leadership, while Engineer and Biology begin searching for signs of Eli. They get confused by their own tracks, however, and it’s nearly twenty minutes before Biology catches sight of the telltale log with its newly exposed pale wood. Behind the log are scuffed leaves and one clear handprint. Viewers will see a cut scene: a young Jewish man kicking the top of the log in apparent frustration, then jumping over it, slipping and stumbling to hand and knee.

“Come on,” Engineer calls to Exorcist and Banker, who are shooting each other sour looks while ostensibly searching. Unusual behavior for Banker, but he’s unsettled by Carpenter Chick’s departure. He is here more for the experience than the money, so the prospect of quitting on the cusp of a new Challenge upsets him, especially because she quit so easily, as though it were nothing. Of everyone, he perhaps fell deepest into the trap of viewing his competitors as teammates, and Carpenter Chick seemed to him an especially useful one.

Engineer and the others follow Biology as she creeps through the trees. After a few minutes, she stops. “I lost the trail,” she says.

The camera zooms in on a pair of threads—one blue, one white—hanging from a tree branch three feet in front of her. It will be nineteen minutes before Exorcist finds the threads.

Meanwhile, Tracker is leading his team flawlessly through the woods, identifying signs that were left intentionally, as well as those that were not. Then Tracker’s eyebrows arch; he’s having a surprising day. He kneels before a rock with a dab of red on it.

“What is it?” asks Black Doctor, in awe of the ease with which Tracker follows a trail he can’t even see.

“It looks like he fell here,” says Tracker. He points at a deep scuff a few feet from the rock. “This is from his knee.” Another closer in: “And this is from his elbow.” Finally he points at the small red smear on the stone. “It appears he hit his head.”

“Hit his head?” says Black Doctor. He exchanges a concerned look with Air Force.

Tracker stands. “The trail gets clearer from here. It looks like he’s stumbling.”

“Concussion?” asks Air Force.

“Likely,” says Black Doctor. He turns to the cameraman. “Is this for real?” he asks, his medical training trumping all inclination to play by the rules. The cameraman ignores him. Black Doctor pushes past the camera, gets in the man’s true face. “Is. This. For. Real?” The cameraman is taken aback, uncomfortable. Black Doctor demands eye contact. “If you don’t know, I need you to radio someone who does,” he insists. “Now.”