Darwin's Quest: The Search for the Ultimate Survivor by Jonathan P. Brazee

we’ve got five dead castmates waiting for a vote? That’s got to be a record.” Josh was shaking his head as he said it.
    “Maybe October or Bernie’s already back at Haven by now,” said Ratt.
    “Maybe,” Lindadawn replied. “I guess we won’t know until we get back there.”
    “And with that, I suggest we start back. Mike, do you think we’ve got enough flint?” Mike nodded, so Hamlin continued. “Let me take point, and let’s get back before something else happens.”
    Ratt sidled up to me as we were getting ready to move out. “That was almost number two for you. Trying to beat Maria Acevedo’s record?”
    Maria had the record for the most deaths in Darwin’s Quest . She had been killed eight times in Season 12, but the voters kept bringing her back. She made it to the Final Two before losing out at the end.
    “If that gets me to the Final Two, sure. But if I do that, I’d better win,” I responded with what I hoped sounded like levity. I was still pretty shaken by my close call.
    She patted me on the back and moved out. I waited to let Borlinga follow, then fell in line. With one last glance up at the circling but still far-off pterosaur, I followed the file into the jungle. Wearily I trudged after Borlinga, staring at her intricate leggings instead of paying attention to any possible danger that could be creeping up on us. Between yesterday and today, five of us had been killed, and that put me two-and-a-half people closer to the reward. Three of us had died within the last hour, and as far as the game went, that was great. But it still somehow felt depressing.
    I didn’t notice that Borlinga had stopped, and I ran into her back, luckily not stabbing her with my spear. “What’s up?” I asked.
    She didn’t say anything, merely crowded ahead. I followed until I could see what had stopped our progress. Hamlin was up in the front, looking down at the ground. It took me a moment to realize that he was looking at Paul, right where we had left him.
    Ratt asked the obvious. “Why’s he still here? Shouldn’t he’ve been taken back to Production City by now? And where’s the St. Bernard?”
    Silence greeted her questions.
    “Um, maybe they had to get Joda and Julie first? Them being in the river and all,” offered Josh, without a sense of conviction.
    There were probably over a hundred St. Bernards on the Reservation, more than enough to get Julie and Joda and to take care of Paul at the same time. And Paul had died a good half-an-hour or more before Joda and Julie fell. I didn’t feel like pointing that out. The others undoubtedly realized that as well.
    Paul had passed out before he’d died, but his expression was a rictus of pain. It didn’t look natural, and it certainly didn’t look like he went easily.
    “What do we do now?” asked Ratt.
    Hamlin turned to look down at her where she crowded around his hip, using him as shield from Paul’s body. “What do you mean?”
    “Well, should we leave him here?”
    “Of course we should. They’ll come and recover him.” With that, he carefully stepped over Paul and started back down the trail. He was a good five meters or so away before the rest of us followed, each one of us slowly stepping over Paul before hurrying to catch up with the rest. We were actually pretty close to Haven, so it wasn’t long before we were crossing the bridge and back home.

 
    Chapter 10
     
    “Joda was right. The toilet stinks.” Alfhid came out of it, nose wrinkling in disgust.
    We sat by the firepit while Mike was leading us in flint knapping. Well, he was leading Borlinga and himself in it. I had broken two nodules down to small bits of gravel before I decided I didn’t want to ruin any more of them. Most of the rest of us had followed suit. So we were actually observing Mike and Borlinga knap the stones.
    We weren’t really relaxing, though. Neither Bernie nor October had returned yet. We were going on a full day now without our full compliment of