Survivors (Stranded) by Jeff Probst, Christopher Tebbetts Page A

the four kids to get to know one another better, as brothers and sisters. Now, here they were, fighting for their lives instead. And it sure didn’t feel like a fair fight.
    Slowly, Carter’s thoughts evened out. He remem-bered what he had to do. He took his time standing up, gathered another armload of wood, and headed for the door.
    He was nearly outside when he stopped again. Something about the fishing photos had caught his attention. One of them was different than the others, and he stepped back for a closer look.
    The picture was an underwater shot. It showed a man in swim trunks, holding a spear of some kind. Instead of gripping the spear near the base like a regular weapon, the man held it near the barbed tip, with a long strap stretched all the way along its length. The whole thing seemed to be cocked like a slingshot, ready to fire.
    It was nothing Carter had ever seen before, but as he looked at it, the spear made perfect sense. Vanessa had been talking about making a raft to get them out to the reef for fishing. It was a good idea, but what if they could get
down
to the reef as well? That’s where the fish really were, after all.
    Carter went outside and stoked the campfire, then jumped off the ship and headed straight up into the jungle. Vanessa had been harvesting bamboo for the raft, and he went right to the grove she’d told him about.
    When he got there, he scouted out a long thin piece. It was nearly six feet high where it grew. Perfect for what he had in mind. Using his good hand he grabbed hold of the cane, angled his foot against the base, and snapped it free.
    Back at the ship, he reentered the wheelhouse. There, he turned his attention to the row of windows at the front of the room. Most of them had broken or missing glass, but they all still had the black rubber weather stripping that ran around their frames. When he poked at the material with his finger, it seemed spongy, and maybe even stretchy enough for the job. He reached up and peeled away one of the strips, being careful to keep it all in one piece.
    Already, Carter felt completely exhausted. He knew he didn’t have much more in him, but he wanted to get this done.
    With the bamboo wedged between his knees, he looped one end of the rubber strip around its base and used his teeth to grab the other end, cinching it tight. He repeated the process, tying it off with one of the knots Uncle Dexter had taught him on board the
Lucky Star
. Now he had a big lasso of rubber attached to the end of his would-be spear.
    There was just one more step, maybe the most important one. He grabbed one of the sharp knives and whittled away the tip of the bamboo until he’d created a strong, sharp point.
    Even in his feverish state, Carter felt just a little bit better. The others had been working hard while he’d slept next to the fire. But now, in less than half an hour, with just the materials he had on hand, he’d worked up a pretty good fishing spear. It was simple and crude, but if it worked, it would change everything. They wouldn’t have to starve, because they’d be drowning in fish.
    The only thing left to do was test it out. But not right now. As much as he wanted to keep going, Carter’s swimming head and fuzzy thoughts told him otherwise. Reluctantly, he took some more wood out to the fire and lay down to close his eyes for a quick rest.
    Just a few minutes,
Carter thought. Then he’d be right back at it.

    When Buzz got back to the ship with the girls, Carter was up on the main deck, dozing next to the campfire. It looked as if he hadn’t moved from his spot in hours.
    He sat up and rubbed his eyes as they all set down their armloads of fresh firewood.
    “Any luck?” Carter asked.
    “Well, the good news is, we found something to eat,” Buzz said.
    “What’s the bad news?”
    Buzz reached into his pocket and set down a handful of grubs.
    “Say hello to our lunch.”
    Vanessa laughed nervously, Jane didn’t say a word, and Carter leaned