Page 26 of Close Your Eyes and Count to 10

6

ANGELINE

Milky light diffused into the dim of the room; she stared at the white of ceiling where a faint crack looked like a bird. Dawn. Angeline loved the momentbefore. The pristine, quiet edge between what was planned and what would be.

The permits, as Anton had promised, had come in late last night. The generator and the trailer, both of which had been a bitch and a fortune to acquire, were fueled and ready. She glanced at the faint green glow of the clock. Gustavo should be on his way to the airport soon to pick up the last two contestants.

She took a deep breath, released it.

The game would start today as planned. In spite of her many misgivings.

“Wild Cody? Are you fucking kidding me, Mav?” she’d railed yesterday, her voice too shrill, anger and disbelief getting the better of her.

“What?” His eyes had widened with innocent surprise, a look he had perfected. “He’s cool. I looovved him when I was a kid.”

Mav had leaned back in the big chair, legs spread, arms winged behind his head like a cobra,the very posture of arrogance. There was no way he didn’t know how messed up this was, right? She stared at him.

“Do you know how huge this will be?” he’d asked. “People will tune injustto see him.”

She’d tried for that patient voice she sometimes had to use with him. Outside a light rain had been falling from the too-blue sky, the tall grass of the field swaying in the wind that seemed to be picking up. There was a storm coming, according to Gustavo and Hector, a big one. But Mav didn’t seem worried about it.

“Wild Cody wascanceled,” she’d said, heat coming up her throat. “For killinga lion.At one of those fucked-up big-game hunting properties.”

Maverick blew out an annoyed breath in response. “That was bullshit. Total CGI fake news.”

She’d wondered, not for the first time, Was he really this clueless?

“It doesn’t matter whether hedid itornot, Mav. Peoplethinkhe did.”

Maverick leaned forward, face earnest, fatigue purpling his eyes. “He’s like the original conservationist and survivalist. He was doing that shit before anyone else, before WeWatch. Like he wasreallydoing it, not just for the cameras.”

Mav tapped something out on his phone and held it up for Angeline. It was Wild Cody’sTimesredemption piece.Wild Cody Goes Back to Nature:After addiction and rock-bottom, theadventurer turned climate-change activist returns to the deep love of the planet he’s held since childhood.

“Andhe’s like an environmental activist now.”

There was a big color picture of Wild Cody, his long blond-gray hair pulled back. He looked different than she remembered him. Once he was a kid’s-show character. Now he was chiseled, eyes serious and thoughtful, jaw stubbled. Was he actually…hot? How old was he even? Had to be ancient—like in his fifties.She could tell, just by the smile that teased on the corners of his thin mouth, that he was trouble, a loose cannon.

It didn’t matter, though she grudgingly acknowledged that this might, in fact, be good for views. It was only a question of time before Wild Cody screwed up again. Please, please, please let it not be on her watch.

She pushed the phone away. “You’re not supposed to make decisions like this without talking to me.”

“Ange, come on.”

“I remember Wild Cody,” Hector had chimed in.

He’d sat at the long dining table they’d been using as command central upon which there were three open laptops, two standing mics, ring lights on tripods, a stack of paperwork that Anton had dropped off, Angeline’s pile of books about the islands. Boxes of other equipment—tile trackers, wireless mics, body cameras, spare phones, camping gear of all kinds, most of it given by companies that wanted mentions on their broadcasts—were stacked around the room.

Under the table, there were two big duffel bags that Mav wouldn’t let anyone touch. Some big surprise. Angeline had found herself staring at them on and off, trying to discern from their heft what might be inside.

“Man, I wanted tobe him,” said Hector. “You know, likeout there, one with nature and shit. That hat. Remember that cool hat he wore?”

“I thought he was dead,” said Gustavo, who’d made himself comfortable on their couch, considerate enough to keep his tattered Merrill climbing shoes off the fabric. He was scrolling on his phone, the case covered in worn, faded stickers. “Didn’t he like OD?”

Angeline looked around her at the men.

Boys.

Only Alex had matured, become a husband, a father. And wherewashe?

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