Surviving the Swamp: Survivalist Reality Show, #1

By Grace Hamilton

Skin of Your Teeth Survival is a reality show made famous for pairing part-time survivalists with a real-life survival situation. Led by world-famous Prepper and Survivalist Wolf Henderson, season ten promises to be different: this time none of the contestants are survivalists—they've all been picked to fail.

But when an EMP hits, the cast scatters and Wolf is left to guide a group of mis-fits in a suddenly dark and dangerous world. Wolf knows this group will be some of the first casualties if he doesn't help so he offers them safety at his island bug-out location and takes off with his ragtag team to move through the wild and unpredictable swampland of Florida.

The loner of the group, Regan, only joined the reality show to escape her past life. She knows she can't survive on her own, but connecting with others has never been her strong point. She believes she has a better shot in one of the major cities on the coast than in the swamp, so she joins the team with every intent of striking out on her own once the opportunity arises. But with the world around them growing more dangerous every day, she has to figure out whether she's better off with the group or alone in the post-EMP world.

And whether Regan or Wolf realize it, the dangerous journey through swampland will soon become a literal fight for survival once they reach the chaos of 'civilized' South Florida.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Relay Publishing
• Release date: Mar 2, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201744779

Book preview

1

Regan Goodfellow wasn’t a quitter. This last week had tested her strength and her will to survive, but she’d taken on every challenge willingly. More than anything, she wanted to prove to herself how tough she really was. Facing off against a dangerous swamp with deadly animals was a great way to do that. Maybe not the most practical or conventional method, but exciting, nonetheless. If only it wasn’t so damn wet. Of course it was wet; it was a swamp , complete with endlessly boggy ground, damp hand-holds, and humidity like she’d never imagined.

Moving through it was brutal, and easily the hardest thing she’d ever done in her life. She stopped yet again, to drag in several deep breaths, her lungs sorely lacking oxygen after the breakneck pace she’d set for herself through the dense foliage that kept slapping her face. Thankfully, she had worn a lightweight, long-sleeved shirt. It was certainly coming in handy now, even if it was snagged and torn in places.

With her feet sinking into the muck that counted as ground in this area, three inches below water and settling into mud, her legs felt like they had a million pins pricking her flesh, tingling as they did from overexertion. She was so close to making it to dry ground. Or, drier ground. There was no way she was going to stop now. She had to get her feet out of the water.

Most people would have been terrified to be alone in the Everglades, and she knew that might be the rational mindset, but it wasn’t hers. She had something to prove to herself and all the people who had tried to keep her down over the years. No Florida swamp was going to beat her. People thought that because she was a bit on the small side, and didn’t look like one of those badass chicks from any of the movies, she would fail. They were wrong.

Keep moving, she whispered to herself, willing her legs to carry her through the swampy bog.

She had once thought running on sand was tough, but this marsh was a completely different challenge. Every step was a battle. Her hiking boots sank into the mud, making a sucking sound as she pulled each boot out and took another step. So much of the land was muddy ground, much of it covered by at least a few inches of water—and every bit of it fought her forward momentum. Thankfully, it wasn’t overly hot. Although, the humidity made it uncomfortable even in the shade. Florida humidity had turned her skin into a sticky glue that bugs and debris clung to. It was gross, and the first thing she was going to do when she got out of this swamp was take a long, hot shower. Maybe the weather wasn’t bad when you could lay out on beaches and then jump in the ocean, but this journey she was on was a long way from any beachside vacation.

Focus, she reminded herself when her mind started to acknowledge her physical discomfort yet again.

Shifting her weight, she took in another deep breath and grimaced as the sucking sound of the mud beneath her feet responded to her renewed attempts to move forward. She had to get to dry land. She’d never make it through another week if she had to stay in the thick swamp with its millions of mosquitoes and other bugs feasting on her body. Every sting reminded her that she had used the last of her bug repellant earlier that morning when things had gone from bad to worse.

The worst of it all was, her feet were wet, something she knew was bad. Wolf Henderson would lecture her for days when he found out she had lost her spare socks somewhere along the way. When they’d first set out on this little adventure, he had warned them all about foot rot. Human skin was not meant to be wet; he’d told them more than once. And now she knew why. Running was rubbing her toes and heels raw despite the fancy socks she had on. If she ever managed to find him and the others, she was fully prepared to be called out. He could complain and lecture all he wanted so long as he had some dry socks for her.

A small clearing ahead greeted her when she glanced up from the boggy ground to take new stock of her surroundings, and she pushed her body more upon seeing it. The clearing would provide options. At the very least, she wouldn’t be smacked in the head with the branches that came from every direction, creating the dense canopy of the swamp. The shade was great—the bugs that came with it, not so much.

Stop it! she scolded herself aloud. I can do this. And someone will come looking for me if I don’t check in. Right?

Her sinister laughter in the quiet swamp sounded funny to her ears. Everything about this situation was so wrong. Why had she ever thought a reality survival show would be a good time? It wasn’t supposed to be like this. She’d been ditched by her partner earlier, and now she was alone. And yeah, of course, that’s what she’d said she wanted, but now….

Reaching the sandy ground of the clearing, Regan gave herself a moment to enjoy the solid footing and take in her surroundings, weighing her options and calculating what path made the most sense. There was a wide pond in front of her, and going through it would be the quickest, shortest route to where she was trying to get to. Heading left would lead her deeper into the swamp, and she was not going back the way she’d come. Her eyes drifted to her right, where a steep hill of a rock stood ominously above her, stretching a good twenty feet into the sky. Going that route would take her a little out of her way, but she could circle back and get to her rendezvous point. It didn’t look insurmountable, but it was steep. Especially considering her soggy footwear.

She let out a long sigh. None of her options promised she would make it to safety. The pond covered with floating green algae actually looked like the easiest choice, but Regan knew simplest was not best, especially in her case. Who knew what was under that algae, creature-wise? The tree that stretched out over part of the pond, keeping it in the shade, was also a problem. There was a wasp nest hanging over the area. That was a major deterrent. Even being in the vicinity of the nest was freaking her out. One sting and she would go into anaphylactic shock, and she couldn’t exactly pull out an EpiPen while swimming. Her allergy was no joke. That had been a hard lesson learned when she’d been a little girl, and the single EpiPen she carried wouldn’t be enough to save her if she was stung by more than a few of those horrible wasps.

Standing around and debating what to do could get her killed, too. She had to keep moving. She looked at the murky water, knowing it would likely be a safer option in some ways, but there was always a chance there’d be a deadly snake waiting to clamp down on her leg. Snakes were one of her least favorite animals on earth. The swamplands of Florida were rife with snakes; a fact she should have thought more about before signing up to do this stupid survival show. Sure, only a fifth or so of Florida snakes were venomous, but in her mind, snakes were snakes.

She stared at the water, shaking her head and cursing the rain they had been dealing with all week. It had made the swamp extra treacherous, which was never a good thing when survival was the goal. Staying upright had been her main goal as she’d traversed slippery rocks made deadly by the layers of moss and slime covering them, and remaining on her feet hadn’t even been easy on what counted for solid ground around here, given the mud and the water.

Relax, Regan. You’ve been in worse situations, she said aloud, trying to calm herself down.

She had to stay calm and think rationally. It was how she had stayed alive as long as she had. She couldn’t lose her head now at the thought of a snake brushing by her.

Finding herself staring up at the slippery hill of rock that could lead to safety, she groaned. It was her best option. She knew it. The risk of being stung was too great. She had to avoid the wasps at all costs. Could she climb the rock wall alone? Having a partner would have made this path an easier prospect, but it was too late for that.

Besides, depending on other people always ended badly. Another hard life lesson she had learned over her twenty-seven years. People sucked. They were unreliable, and they always promised to help and be there for support, and then when you actually needed them, they screwed you over. Regan was done with all that. Being on her own had been a lot easier. She never had to worry about people letting her down or inserting their drama into her life, like her first partner on the show had done. Little Miss Sunny had been a nightmare. Regan had wanted to kill the producers for pairing her up with the school teacher. Thankfully, Sunny had been booted off, leaving Regan with a new partner. And while anyone was better than Sunny, her so-called partner was now nowhere to be found. Typical.

You can do this. You don’t need anybody. This is all you. Get your butt up that slope!

The rock-covered hill was a slippery mess and her boots were coated with mud, making it even more difficult for her to get a strong foothold. Having clambered five feet above the base, she closed her eyes and focused on the goal. Getting to the top. It wasn’t all that high. A couple stories, if she’d been trying to scale a building. Not something she had actually done, but she easily imagined jumping out of a second-story window and the height involved there—that, she had done.

With renewed strength, she stretched an arm up, felt around, and found the smallest hint of a ledge. It would have to do. With all the power she could muster in her five-foot, five-inch frame, she used her leg muscles to propel herself up the hill several inches. When she got a good foothold, she breathed a sigh of relief.

You can do this, she repeated to herself.

Then Regan made the mistake of looking up. She had barely made it half way up, and there was nothing to hold onto.

Come on!

She was only a few yards off the ground, which wasn’t a big deal, but if she did jump off the hill, she risked twisting an ankle or falling into the nasty, bug-infested pond. There was also the chance that she would hit her head on the way down, given the slick slope involved. It wasn’t like she could run to the hospital to get patched up or take a couple Advil to relieve the pain of a head or ankle injury. The swamp wasn’t exactly the best place to take risks.

Well, this sucks, she muttered, holding onto the side of the hill and not knowing whether to keep trying to climb up or admit defeat and jump down.

Need a hand? a voice from above called out.

Regan’s head jerked up. Tabitha?

Sure enough, Tabitha Funelli peered over the ledge, her dark brown eyes gazing down at Regan. That’s me. Let me help you up before you fall on your butt.

Regan chuckled. I’m not going to fall on my butt. Where’ve you been? she asked the same partner who had ditched her earlier.

Tabitha ignored her question. Really? Do you really think this is the best time to be stubborn? she asked.

Regan took a deep breath facing the rock directly in front of her face. Tabitha was the only friendly face she’d had recently, but she wasn’t dumb enough or naïve enough to think that the woman’s helping hand came out of the generosity of her heart. No, this was a tit for tat situation. Tabitha would help her now and, at some point, she was going to be calling in the favor Regan owed her. It could be giving her the last bit of purified water or the last bite of a meal they knew would be all they had for days, but the return favor would come.

Take your time, Tabitha called down.

Regan bit back a retort. Tabitha wasn’t being rude or pushy, but Regan knew she didn’t have all day. If they were the last ones to reach their goalpost and circle back to check in before making it to the main set, they would lose. And if they lost this round, one of them was going home. Regan wanted to stay in the game, despite how much she hated this swamp, and she definitely wanted to keep the only friendly face around, as well. Maybe Tabitha had deserted her earlier, but they both knew Regan had pushed her to it.

Simply, they couldn’t be the last duo to check in.

From above her, Regan heard a shifting, and when she looked up again, she saw that Tabitha had laid down on the rock above her and extended the strap from her pack for Regan to grab onto. It was within reach.

Fine, Regan groaned, and she took a deep breath, supporting her body weight with her legs and left arm while she extended her right hand into the air.

Tabitha’s strength and firm grip belied her small stature; Regan scrambled up against the slick rock as Tabitha pulled upward on the strap, and when she’d gotten higher, Tabitha reached out and clamped her hand around Regan’s wrist and forearm. Regan wrapped her hand around Tabitha’s arm in return and pushed with every ounce of strength she had while Tabitha pulled. Neither woman would ever be compared to Hercules, but they were both in relatively good shape.

Come on, Regan, Tabitha grunted. A little higher.

Regan gave it her all, pushed off the hill and launched herself up, hoping Tabitha held on. It was a true leap of faith as she catapulted her body upwards. If Tabitha let go or lost her grip, Regan knew she would slip, fall backward, and land on her back—the jump would give her height, but not grip, and falling would likely mean a serious injury.

Pull! Regan shouted as the edge of the hill lined up with her face.

She stretched her arm over the ledge and used her elbow to pull herself forward while Tabitha yanked on her other arm. Once her chest dropped heavily to the rockface, Tabitha moved her grip to Regan’s armpits for support and Regan maneuvered her body all the way onto the rock.

Thanks, she breathed out. I owe you one, which you already know.

Tabitha smiled, her eyes squinting with that familiar full-faced smile, which was one of her prettiest features. Damn straight, you do. Now, let’s get moving.

The loud sound of an air horn cut through the air.

What’s that about? Regan asked, her hands on her hips as she struggled to catch her breath, occasionally swatting at one of the millions of insects buzzing through the air.

Tabitha looked around, as if the answer would present itself. Her light khaki-colored clothing nearly blended into the dark green foliage that the top of the rock incline opened into, but Regan noticed that the other woman was as muddy and sweat-soaked as she herself was.

Tabitha turned to meet Regan’s eyes. I don’t know. I guess we better change course and get back to the set. Do you think someone got hurt? she asked. I hope it wasn’t Geno. He was paired up with that old guy who wouldn’t survive a day at the park, let alone a week in the swamp, she muttered.

Regan shook her head. Don’t worry about your husband. He’ll be fine. The man is a machine, she added, not without some admiration.

Tabitha giggled. Yes, he is, and it’s only partly why I love him, she said, winking at Regan as they set off.

Regan rolled her eyes. Spare me the details. We better get going. No way am I letting us come in last.

Tabitha laughed, and as they pushed through the foliage leading away from the rockface she’d surmounted, Regan looked at the woman who was barely over five feet tall and probably weighed a hundred pounds, if that. When they had first met, Regan had known right away that Tabitha would be one of the biggest competitors on the show.

She was small, but intelligent. What’s more, everyone seemed to like her right away—she was pretty and had that easy-going nature about her that people were always drawn to. Regan thought the vibe she gave off could also have something to do with her job. She was a paramedic, which meant she spent every day working with strangers who were having the worst days of their lives. Her natural empathy and ability to soothe people had drawn Regan to her from the beginning, even if she couldn’t bring herself to commit to trusting her. She was a good ally, and Regan was all about winning this little game they had all signed up for.

I guess we’ll find out what’s going on soon, Tabitha said as she held a branch aside to let Regan pass, and then wiped some mud from her hands by running them over the khaki-colored cargo pants she was wearing. Seeing it reminded Regan of what a mess she herself was, but there wasn’t anything to be done about it. In terms of mud and sweat and clothing, they were a perfect pairing.

When the group had shown up on the first day, they’d all had a good laugh over their similar outfits. Almost all of the contestants wore cargo pants, hiking boots, and cotton t-shirts over long-sleeved hiking shirts that were supposed to be breathable while protecting their arms from the branches and bugs. The wear had actually been recommended in the stack of paperwork they had received prior to their arrival.

Recommended clothing had been described as breathable but durable. That had resulted in an all-out search for the right outfit, something Regan had found a little ridiculous considering that the master goal was to survive. Her first day in the swamp had made it clear why the clothing mattered. The pants were somewhat waterproof and didn’t tear easily. That protected the skin on her legs from getting scratched up. Scratches could lead to a deadly infection in the swamp.

Focused on the immediate moment once again, the women made their way through the dense trees intermingled with vines and ferns, on toward the area that had been designated as the set. It was where they did their weekly recaps and their interviews about how a task went, or gossiped in general. Regan couldn’t stand that part. She detested talking about her fellow contestants and hated being in front of the camera. Only the thought of the money at the end of all this made it bearable.

So, is this what you thought it would be? Tabitha asked as they walked.

Regan scoffed. Yes and no. I thought we would be spending more time with Wolf Henderson, learning. Instead, I feel like he pops in and out long enough to lecture us about what we did wrong. Do you think he was even out here this week? I bet he was kicked back in some fancy hotel while we busted our asses out here with no communication all week.

Tabitha’s soft laughter echoed around them. Me, too. I was mostly looking for a challenge. I think I got it and I hope it’s worth it.

What do you mean?

Tabitha shrugged a shoulder. Geno and I both had to quit our jobs to come on the show. Neither of our bosses would give us the time off. Once we’re finished here, we have to start all over.

I’m sure you’ll be able to find a job pretty quick. Aren’t they always looking for paramedics? Regan asked.

I suppose. The trick is finding a job in a city we love and making sure Geno can get work as a mechanic. Wanting to be in a new place was what made the decision for us—we knew we wanted to quit our jobs and relocate already, so it was only a matter of when. He wants to buy a house with some land, maybe somewhere on the west coast. His dream is to have a hobby shop where he can fix up old cars on the side, while having a huge garden, she explained.

Wow. I never imagined Geno would be the farmer type.

Tabitha laughed again. He is, and he’s really good at it, too. What about you? What are you going to do once we’re done here?

You mean once I win the fifty thousand? Regan teased.

Ha! I’m going to win the money and buy Geno his farm, Tabitha shot back.

I don’t know what I’m going to do. Probably travel.

Fifty grand isn’t that much. You’ll be out of money in under a year, Tabitha pointed out.

I can work from anywhere. I have my laptop, and that’s all I need. I’m a freelance IT specialist. I don’t have to live anywhere, Regan said with a great deal of pride.

Do you like that? The nomad lifestyle?

Regan pushed a branch out of the way, holding it while Tabitha walked by. I do like it. I don’t like being tied down.

Tabitha made a noise that suggested she disagreed, but she didn’t come right out and say it. Regan was familiar with that reaction. People always gave her the same type of look or said the same thing when they found out she was such a loner.

I think we’re close, Tabitha whispered.

Regan nodded her head. Why are you whispering?

Tabitha stopped, looked at her and smiled. I have no idea.

Both women laughed and entered the clearing where the show’s set was situated in a V-shape. The wide part of the V was the stage where they all sat in a row of chairs and talked about the week. There were various tents around the area that housed the camera crew while the contestants were in the jungle—when the crew was there, anyway. If they weren’t on set, as had been the case for the past week, the tents stood empty. And time was relative, too. What Wolf and the crew called a week was more like eight or nine days; each challenge took up six or seven days, the way the show had been laid out, with another day or two in between for interviews, lectures from Wolf, and eliminations. The whole thing had already begun to feel tedious, and they were only heading into the end of the second week. They’d been meant to finish this challenge that night, and do interviews tomorrow.

Regan stopped near the stage and took stock of things. The rest of the cast looked to have already made it back, which frustrated Regan. She was one of the strongest people on the show. She had to win. If not for the air horn, she felt sure that she and Tabitha would have checked in sooner than some of the others with their goals completed, despite having been separated.

She didn’t have time to think about what it meant for them to be the last team to arrive now.

Welcome back, everyone! Wolf Henderson said from the makeshift stage. Hello! I need everyone’s attention! the host of the reality show shouted.

Regan turned her focus to him immediately. She couldn’t deny the attraction to him that she felt. Maybe it was the long hair. It was a little bit of a rocker, bad boy thing happening, but she knew his long black hair wasn’t a gimmick to promote his celebrity status. It was his Native American heritage. The defined cheekbones and strong jaw were alone testament to his ancestry. While the man was certainly attractive by society’s standards, it was his eyes that had first captured her attention.

The group quieted down and everyone looked at the man who had created Skin of Your Teeth Survival. The guy was supposed to be some survival expert, but Regan wasn’t convinced—yet. He’d provided them with little training before sending the contestants out on their own for a week at a time. Two weeks in, and five people had already left the show. Only one had actually been eliminated. One had been injured and three others had given up and quit during the first week, saying it was too difficult.

So while they had started out with fourteen, they were down to nine, and someone else was clearly about to get booted. They were wrapping up a week where they’d been completely alone—no camera crews or ways to communicate. No lifelines but each other. Regan wondered if some of the other contestants had announced they were quitting. That would be a good thing for her and get her one step closer to winning. They had two more weeks in the swamp. The contestants hadn’t been told how many people would be going home at the end of that week, but Regan knew the cuts were going to have to be heavy in order to get to one lone survivor at the end of the season.

The criteria for elimination included Wolf’s judgment of their skills. They were each supposed to be doing video diaries that the producers would edit into the show before it aired. Regan hadn’t been a fan of doing the selfie thing and had taken very little video so far. This also meant Wolf would have little to judge her on, beyond his own opinion.