"All right, if there are no questions," Brogan paused and looked around the group.

"I have a question." Alison hadn't noticed him at first, a tall man standing a little apart from the circle around the campfire, leaning against a tree. He was wearing jeans faded to a soft blue and a white polo shirt, and was easily over six feet tall, stretched on a lankly frame. His hair was a soft brown, and fell untidily over his forehead. His skin was pale and there was an odd look in his eyes, Alison thought, as if they weren't quite focused on his surroundings.

"Your question, Luke?" Brogan prompted when the man hesitated.

"Is there any reason my vitamins were confiscated?" He spoke slowly, almost without expression.

"No reason at all." Brogan reached into his pocket and tossed a pill bottle to him. Luke examined it for a second, opened the top and looked inside, seemed satisfied, and stowed it in his pocket.

"Anyone else?"

"I suppose my phone and my cosmetic bag are out of the question?" It was the executive-looking woman in the linen suit. Clarice. Alison had spoken with her briefly when they got on the boat, but the noise of the engine and the choppy ride had made conversation impractical.

"This isn't about checking in with your office for messages." Brogan looked around the group, meeting their eyes one by one. "If any you are not 100% committed to this project, then speak up now, and we'll have you back on the boat tonight."

He turned back to Clarice. "As far as your cosmetic bag is concerned, you'll find that and any other personal care items you brought along waiting for you in your cabins. But you won't need smartphones, iPads, or other electronic devices here. For the next six weeks, this island is your world, and your lifestyle will be a bit more primitive than you may be accustomed to. Understood?"

She nodded and went back to staring intently into the fire.

"All right then. I'd like everyone to introduce themselves. When you've finished, follow that trail. You'll find several clearings where your cabins are." Brogan turned to walk away.

A heavy-set man who looked like he was pushing fifty spoke up. "What about food?"

Alison wondered what criteria had been used to choose him as a contestant. He looked like he stepped out of the backwoods of Mississippi - about thirty years ago. His face was slightly flushed, and his shirt strained a bit over his protruding stomach and low-belted pants. The term "good ol' boy" might have been invented for him, Alison thought.

"For tonight, we've left a box meal in your cabins. I expect you'll all want to turn in early. As for the rest of your stay, there's a shed right over there." Brogan pointed to a small building almost concealed by the foliage. "There's a camp stove and basic utensils in there, and we've set up a picnic table about 50 feet that way," he said, gesturing to a point beyond the campfire. "You'll find a good supply of nonperishables in the shed, and a cooler that will be restocked from time to time. Nothing fancy, but it will keep you alive. You want something more than that, you'll have to catch it, kill it or pick it off a tree."

"I don't have my gun," the middle-aged man said. "How's a man supposed to hunt without a gun?"

"Well, that would be your problem, now wouldn't it?" And with that, Brogan walked away.

They all stared at each other for a moment. Finally a woman in a short, red leather skirt and halter-top spoke up. Her voice had a sexy twang, and there was a predatory look in her eye as she checked out the men in the group.

"Well, I guess maybe we should do what Brogan asked us. I mean, I'm not gonna' be the first one to have points deducted for not following the rules." She looked around and, when no one disagreed with her, began.

"Okay. My name's Jolene and I've been living in L.A. for the past five years. I'm an actress, mostly small parts, but you know what they say."

The man sitting next to her spoke up. "There are no small parts, only small actors?" He was tall, with dark and slightly unruly hair. His clothes were understatedly expensive. Alison thought he looked like a stockbroker on sabbatical.

Jolene looked at him blankly. "No actually, I meant that thing about, you have to start somewhere." She smiled conspiratorially at the rest of the group. "Anyway, I know Brogan said we all have secrets, but I'm not making any secret about why I'm here. This is a great place to break into TV work, or even a movie deal. It's all about getting your face out there. So I'm hoping to get some exposure."

The "stockbroker" nodded, then looked around at the group before speaking.

"I'm Travis. I've been working in a brokerage firm in New York," he said, and Alison suppressed a laugh. Could she pick 'em, or what?

He paused, looking at her consideringly, as if he read her mind. "Until recently," he continued, "when I transferred out to L.A. I thought the change of scenery would be enough, but I needed a change of pace. That's what brought me here. I'm not looking for any movie deals or a future in show business. Just an . . . interesting diversion."

Alison spoke up. "I'm surprised somebody in a fast-paced job like that could take time off and be completely out of communication with your office."

He gave her a level look. "Actually, in my business, they prefer it that way."

When he didn't explain further, Alison shrugged.

The middle-aged man who missed his gun stood up. "I'm Billy Ray. I'm from Mississippi and I'm planning on being the last survivor here, and taking home that prize money." He pointed one beefy finger at Jolene. "But little lady, I got no problem with you gettin' all the exposure you want while we're in the game, if you get my meaning." He chuckled.

Clarice looked up, and asked him the question that was on Alison's mind.

"You flew from Mississippi to L.A. to audition for this show?"

He stared at her for a moment, his face reddening slightly with anger.

"I don't know what business that is of yours."

"Sorry. I didn't know questions were off limits." She looked around at the rest of the group. "I guess I might as well go next. My name is Clarice, and I'm an account exec for an ad agency."

Alison took in the woman's trim appearance. Sitting around a campfire, her pale linen slacks and silk sleeveless blouse looked even more incongruous.

"Why are you here, Clarice?"

"I just thought it would be an interesting experience." When she didn't elaborate, everyone stared into the fire for a moment, waiting for the next person to speak up.

"I'm Daryl," said a young black man who looked like he belonged on a high school sports field. I guess I'm here for the same reason Jolene is." He sent a smile her way. "I just finished my second year playing college football. Screwed up my knee. So now I'm looking at broadcasting.

Billy Ray snorted. "Yeah. You and 500 other washed out -"

"You know what," Travis said, as Daryl started to get up. "I think we're going to have enough bullshit to get through over the next six weeks without making our own."

He leveled a steady stare at Billy Ray, who sat down and shrugged.

"Yeah." Billy Ray looked over at Daryl. "I was only saying. Lots of . . . football players looking for the same thing you are."

Daryl sat back down. "Yeah, well, that's why I'm here. This is what could give me the edge."

"You got that right, sugar," Jolene said. "You get your face on TV enough, people just might like seeing it there."

The girl sitting beside Alison spoke up next, and seemed oblivious to the tension in the air. She had spiked, unnaturally bright red hair, and looked like she was about nineteen. Alison remembered her asking questions the day they auditioned. When she ran a hand through her hair, Alison noticed a tattoo of a butterfly on the inside of her forearm.

"Hi everybody, my name's Miranda, I grew up in Kentucky, and I always imagined being on one of these shows when I was back home. I can't wait to see what happens next."

She pulled her knees up closer and wrapped her arms around them, hugging herself, and looking around at the group. "I honestly think this is the adventure I've been waiting for my whole life."

She nudged Alison. "Your turn."

"What? Oh." Alison had let herself be distracted for a moment, as she studied the other contestants. "I'm Alison, and I teach yoga and fitness. I've always wanted to put my abilities to the test, and when I saw the ad for the show, it was really more of an impulse."

Miranda nodded and looked at her encouragingly, so she went on. "I'll admit, though, that the reason I decided to seriously do it was the prize money. I've been thinking about opening up my own exercise place - nothing really large scale - but starting something like that is going to cost more money than I've managed to put away."

"How'd you manage to get six weeks off work?" Clarice asked, looking at her skeptically.

"I'm in between jobs right now. I'd been working in New York, but I decided to head out to L.A."

Clarice nodded.

"But you're with an ad agency," Alison said. "How'd you manage to get off work this long?"

"I took a leave of absence for personal reasons, since we weren't allowed to tell anyone about the show. If it pans out, it will be the best publicity the agency ever had."

"No kidding," Travis said.

Everyone got silent. Jolene looked over at the man who'd spoken up earlier about his vitamins. He had taken a place sitting around the campfire, but still managed to seem apart from the group.

"What's your story?" Jolene asked.

He looked up. "No story to tell."

"Well, you could start with your name," Jolene said, flashing him a smile. "It's Luke, right?"

"Luke."

"O - kay. The strong and silent type." Jolene looked around. "So what do you all think we're supposed to do now?"

Billy Ray stood up. Alison noticed that both Daryl and Travis were watching him.

"I'm gonna' go see what these cabins are like."

The group got up in agreement and started down the narrow trail Brogan had indicated. After about 500 yards there was a fork in the trail, with a narrower path splitting off. They followed it up a sharp incline to a single cabin, although calling it a "cabin" was using the term loosely, in Alison's opinion.

It was one of those ready-to-assemble structures, measuring about 12 by 12. Inside were two cots, two chairs, a small table. There was a basin, and a metal cabinet against one wall. A small window over each cot provided ventilation. A blanket and a cardboard box were on each cot.

There wasn't enough room for eight of them to crowd into the cabin, so Travis and Billy Ray went in.

Billy Ray opened the lid on one of the boxes.

"What the hell?"

Travis looked in. "Ladies?" he called out. "It looks like we've got room assignments."

"What do you mean?" Jolene asked. "Whose cabin is it?"

"Come in and see whose stuff this is."

Alison stepped in, followed by Miranda and Clarice.

Travis reached into a box on one of the cots and pulled out a running bra and a green tank top, raising his eyebrows. "Well I'm sure this isn't -"

"Do you mind?" Clarice came across the room, grabbed the clothes and put them back into the box.

Alison and Miranda walked over to the other cot, opting to check that box out themselves before Billy Ray started rummaging through it.

"Not my stuff," Miranda said, then shrugged her shoulders at Alison. "Guess that means we're bunking together."

"Well, at least they aren't pairing us up boy-girl," Jolene observed from the doorway. "Not to say it wouldn't be interesting." Her gaze lingered for a moment on Travis, then shifted outside the cabin to Luke and Daryl, measuring them each in turn. But it was Billy Ray who was studying her.

Writer's Note

So which of the contestants are you the most interested in? Who do you think has their own agenda?