The Contestant. Stephanie Doyle

      “This game isn’t about making it easier for you,” he stated heavily.

      “Idiot,” she cursed under her breath. He was trying to make it seem dramatic, when the truth was if anyone got cut open, they would be in serious danger, if not from predators then certainly from an infection.

      “There’s a clear spot here,” Reuben called to them, already in the water and treading in a way that told her there was enough depth for them to jump. Then he was off, swimming toward the shore.

      Knowing she couldn’t play the game as ruthlessly, leaving her competitors to fend for themselves, she helped Iris into the water, and then turned to Nancy.

      “Let’s go.”

      “Maybe I should take off the jacket, too.”

      “No, I think you’ll feel more comfortable with it on.” The woman had no idea the physical strength it would require swimming such a long distance in the ocean. She’d been practicing in a pool. It was the difference between driving on a highway versus racing a car in the Indy 500.

      “But don’t you think it will slow me down? This is a race.”

      A race that Talia had already given up the idea of winning. Someone was going to need to stay with the older woman for the duration to make sure she got to the beach. The fact that Nancy didn’t understand that she needed help wasn’t good, either. The last thing Talia needed to deal with was ego, as well as the trials of getting them both to the shore.

      “Sometimes slow and steady wins it,” Talia told her encouragingly. “Let’s go.”

      She got Nancy over the side and into the water. Then she hooked the woman’s backpack over one shoulder and her own over the other. The weight in both was trivial and Talia was easily able to manage them. She waited a moment as Nancy tried to acclimate herself and then jumped in behind her.

      The ocean was warm and buoyant and for Talia it was like putting on a cozy sweater. She allowed herself to enjoy the feeling of floating, practically weightlessly in the salty surroundings. Swimming wasn’t as much fun as diving. But it was a close second—head and shoulders above walking or running.

      Why anyone chose another method of exercise that involved panting, sweating and pain, when swimming was all about being fluid, comfortable and relaxed, she would never know. But this wasn’t a vacation. It was time for her to get to work.

      Using a breaststroke helped Talia to keep the packs on her shoulders, as well as giving her a nice, easy stroke to conserve energy. She also was able to continually survey the group in front of her. She swam up next to Nancy, who was working her arms in a modified freestroke form. The divorcée was doing a lot of splashing, but she wasn’t going very far.

      Splashing wasn’t as problematic as blood, but they definitely could do with less of it.

      “Take it easy. We’ve got a long way to go. Just kick your legs nice and easy, not too deep, and move your arms like this.”

      In an exaggerated motion, Talia showed her the move she wanted her to emulate.

      “O-k-k-kay,” Nancy chattered with what only could be nerves as the water was a balmy temperature.

      Together they moved, making slow but steady progress to shore. Talia used the time to study her opponents. Iris, as she’d indicated, was a sound swimmer. Seemingly in no hurry, she moved at an easy pace, lopping one arm over the other, her head twisting out of the water with each stroke to take in air. Currently, Tommy was the closest to the shore. He was doing a lot of splashing, too, but his momentum was carrying him forward at a fast clip.

      Gus was swimming along behind him, but Talia could see that the former military man was keeping an eye on Marlie, who was basically dog-paddling her way to the beach. Sam was a few feet behind Marlie and struggling. He had chosen to leave his life jacket on, too, which was a good thing considering his uncoordinated moves. Fortunately, he was kicking strongly, propelling himself forward.

      Not surprising, Reuben was the strongest swimmer. Maybe even as strong as she was. He was eating up the ocean stroke after stroke as cleanly as a hot knife cutting through an ice-cream cake. The thought made her mouth water slightly…the ice cream, not the man.

      “How you doing, Nancy?” Talia called over her shoulder. The woman was a few feet back, but she was kicking her legs consistently. Not waiting for an answer, Talia dipped her head below the surface, eyes open as she surveyed the blurry perimeter. She could see the movement of creatures beneath the surface, not too clearly, but clear enough to make out the basic shape of the fish. Small fish. So far so good, she thought.

      The sound of the small motorboats trailing them greeted her ears as she came up for air. Turning on her back to tread water, she watched the two cameramen focusing in on their natural prey—dramatic humans. Purposefully, she dipped beneath the water again when she saw Dino turn her way. Below the surface, she rolled her body over.

      That’s when she saw it. Out of the corner of her eye. A large shadow moving so gracefully, it would have made her gasp had she seen it safely from the boat.

      Actually, it made her gasp anyway.

      Purposefully, she kept her movements fluid as she surfaced for air. Raising her hand she tried to get the attention of one of the boats, but both were too far off in either direction to notice. Evan was steering Joe toward Tommy, who was going to be the first to reach the shore, and the crewman who had piloted the other boat was a few yards behind Reuben about thirty feet off to the right.

      The shadow loomed to her left, but didn’t seem to come any closer. There were no deliberate moves to indicate any sort of intent to attack so, theoretically, there was no need to worry. The trick was going to be alerting Nancy without panicking her.

      Talia moved back and came up beside the older woman who was still making progress. “Not too much farther. Think you can pick it up a step?” she calmly suggested.

      “Oh, I don’t think I could go faster,” she panted. “But you don’t have to wait for me. You’re going to lose the race.”

      “That’s okay,” Talia said casually, her eyes searching for trouble. The shadow was out of view, but that wasn’t a good sign. She would have much preferred having a bead on the big fish the entire way to the beach.

      To keep the woman calm, and herself for that matter, Talia swam around Nancy a few times, checking the perimeter and chattering about her fellow contestants. “Looks like Tommy and Marlie are going to win. I don’t mind if I’m not on that team. Too much talking, if you ask me.”

      The veracity of the statement made the older woman attempt a smile despite her evident unease. No one could deny that Marlie and Tommy loved to talk, mostly about themselves. They were perfect candidates for a show such as this as they believed they were worthy of having every word and every event in their lives filmed for the benefit of others’ entertainment.

      Glancing up again, Talia saw that Tommy had, in fact, reached the shore first. He’d had a pretty good head start. Then he walked backed into the water and tugged Marlie up to the beach with him, leaving Gus to fend for himself. But Gus was close enough, and so was Sam, that Talia didn’t have to worry about either of them. Iris, too, was now standing in the shallow water and, even though it was a well-known fact that shark attacks often occurred close to shore, Talia figured there was enough interest in the deeper water to keep the big fish occupied.

      Taking another dip, Talia studied the sea in front of her but saw nothing. When she popped her head up, she could see that Reuben hadn’t made it to the island yet, which was strange given his previous pace. He should have overtaken at least Gus and certainly Sam. Then she saw where his gaze was pinned. He started shouting for the boat, but it didn’t seem as if the crewman could hear what he was saying.

      “Oh! Oh, my goodness!”

      Instantly, Talia turned around only to see Nancy freeze with sudden horror as a straight dorsal fin rose out of the water and swam directly in front of her, cutting between them.