by A. C. Wise
“Hey!” Penny’s shout from below draws Bunny’s attention. “A little help.”
“Take care of her.” Bunny addresses the platform in general, gesturing to Helena.
She’s weary. Her ribs ache. She keeps an arm wrapped around her mid-section as she moves to peer over the edge. A second wave of adrenaline hits her as she does. Penny is leaning halfway over a bridge, straining to hold on to Doctor Blood. Victor is nowhere in sight.
“Ruby!” Bunny dashes for the stairs, ignoring the pain.
Ruby follows close on her heels. The rope bridge sways as they clatter to the mid-way point. Doctor Blood hangs limp in Penny’s grasp, holding on by reflex alone. Bunny meets his eyes, breath tangled in her throat. He would just as soon fall, she can see it.
“Ruby.” It comes out choked.
Ruby reaches past Penny, and grips the doctor’s arm, hauling him onto the ominously creaking bridge.
There’s another shout, this time from above, and Bunny’s stomach drops. Her heart hurts, worrying about all her girls all the time. Her body aches and she wants to rest. But she can’t, she won’t, not until everyone is safe. She looks up.
A massive beetle dips and weaves, its flight made awkward by the bundle trapped against its body by its legs. Bunny’s eyes refuse to make sense of what she’s seeing. Then her pulse kicks, the image resolving. Silk twists and thrashes in the beetle’s grip.
The beetle spirals lower, an erratic, weaving pattern. One of the beetle’s legs slips, and Silk drops an inch. Bunny’s heart lurches. Then several things happen at once.
The beetle draws even with another platform, and Esmeralda fires Doctor Blood’s pheromone spray. Her eyes widen with shock, seeing Silk in the beetle’s grasp a moment too late. The beetle relaxes, and Silk drops again, dangling, clinging to the beetle for dear life. The beetle lists sideways, nearly crashing into an outcropping of stone before veering away. And from above, CeCe jumps.
Tearing her gaze away from Silk and the beetle, Bunny tracks CeCe’s fall.
“No!” Bunny doesn’t know who the word is for—CeCe, Esmeralda, or Silk, but it doesn’t matter, because it’s too late. Everything keeps happening.
Esmeralda drops the canister. It clatters against the bridge before tumbling over the edge. The beetle bounces off a rock face, caroming away, and dipping lower. Silk’s grip, blood-slicked from the barbs on the beetle’s leg, falters. CeCe falls.
And then, the impossible happens. CeCe hits one of the bridges, whipping out her sword cane and hacking at the ropes. Bracing her feet and one arm, she cuts the last strand free and swings over empty space. With her free arm, she catches Silk around the waist just as Silk sees her and jumps—a perfect moment of synchronicity and trust. The bridge strikes the far wall, jolting, but neither of them falls. The beetle, giving in to exhaustion, drops, spiraling down into the underground city.
Bunny lets out a breath, crashing to her knees as exhaustion hits her. For a moment, just a moment, she wants to drop over the edge after the beetle, fall like a glittering, shooting star into the depths. It finally registers that someone is shaking her shoulder. Sapphire bends close, expression drawn with concern.
“I’m okay,” she says, but she has to lean on Sapphire to stand.
Something tickles Bunny’s upper lip; wiping it away smears her hand with blood. She leans against the rock, closing her eyes, and concentrates on breathing shallow—in, out—against the pain in her ribs. She listens to the sound of it, timed to the beat of her heart. Voices and footsteps swirl around her as one by one the members of the Glitter Squadron and the G-String Men join her on the platform. The sound washes around her, over her, holding her. Like family. Without opening her eyes, Bunny adds her voice to the weave of sound.
“We’re okay. We’re all okay.”
IT’S THURSDAY, WHICH MEANS THE ULTRA FABULOUS GLITTER Squadron goes bowling. Of course they are dressed for the occasion. Here’s Bunny in strapless white with elbow-length gloves (which don’t give her an advantage on the lanes, no matter what Sapphire says), her ears shimmering with ionic flare. Sapphire wears turquoise fishtail splendor, sequin train hissing with every step, while Ruby is surrounded in a froth of chiffon and feather boas. CeCe’s in garnet velvet today, Silk in a slip dress the color of ice, and never mind the crutch she’s leaning on.
Esmeralda put the word out, so even some of the former, auxiliary, and one-time members of the Glitter Squadron have come to join in the fun. Butch is here in all his spangled glory, his new husband Paolo in tow. The bikini girls from Doctor Blood’s Martian lab are here. In honor of their supervillainous origins, they go by Bambi and Honey, but these days they’re far more conservatively attired. Cherry Bomb and Licorice Whip are here to talk shop, rather than bowl. They were only with the Glitter Squadron for a few months before leaving to start their own team. The main roadblock they’re facing now is the inability to agree on a catchy team name.
The G-String Men’s state of undress has made the other patrons nervous enough that they have Gary’s Disco Bowlarama all to themselves. They’re good enough customers that Gary doesn’t mind. In fact, Gary is more than happy to host. Of all the regulars who come to the Bowlarama, the Ultra Fabulous Glitter Squadron is by far the most fun. Besides, he suspects he may need their services soon. He’s certain there’s something moving in the walls.
Notably absent from the celebration is M. Bowling is not M’s thing. Also absent is Doctor Blood, sitting by wounded Helena’s bedside. Even though Sapphire counseled him against it, he’s determined. He wants to say he’s sorry. And besides, as he told Sapphire—no one should wake up in the hospital alone.
Ruby gets a strike. A cheer goes up around the lanes.
Bunny still doesn’t trust Kahuna, not entirely, but she’s willing to make peace for the sake of her girls. Starlight is trying not to look at Flash Jr., and Boomer is trying not to look at Sapphire. A waiter on roller skates brings them a round of drinks, and Starlight beams a smile.
“To friendship,” Bunny says, starting the toast.
Everyone takes a drink, except Silk.
“Everything okay, doll?” CeCe leans close, her cheeks flushed with victory.
“I can’t,” Silk whispers. Her cheeks are redder than CeCe’s. “I mean, I shouldn’t. I think…”
“I’m going to be a dad?”
The shout is louder than Esmeralda’s 7-10 split, the clatter of the pins drowned in the cheer as the rest of the Squadron overhears CeCe and Silk’s news.
When the congratulations are done, Sapphire squeezes CeCe’s arm, exchanging a look in place of words. Meanwhile, Ruby is matching Bad Kitty—whose g-string shifts from deep, midnight black to lynx grey—drink for drink. She’s learned to hold her liquor much better since joining with the Glitter Squadron. Esmeralda is discussing fabric and pattern options with Kahuna. During the ninth frame, Flash Jr. approaches Silk and CeCe.
“I just wanted to offer my congratulations,” he says. He shifts awkwardly from foot to foot.
“Yes?” Silk says.
A smile teases the corner of her lips at his shyness. She lets it ride as she revels in the warmth of CeCe’s palm against her own, fingers entwined. It’s almost as good as being up on stage. Actually, no, it’s better.
“In case you’re wondering, the g-string is photosynthetic. I don’t have to eat while wearing it. As long as it’s sunny.” Flash Jr. falters.
“Are we supposed to be impressed?” Silk lightens her tone so he’ll know she’s only teasing him.
“Sorry. It’s not like I’m even a botanist. Mom had the green thumb. I’m a graphic artist,” he says, the words tumbling out in a rush. “I mean, I’m trying to be, when I’m not fighting crime or dancing. I thought maybe I could use you two as models. Watching you during the fight gave me an idea for a new series—Velvet and Silk. You make a hell of a crime-fighting duo.”
Flash Jr. allows himself a hopeful smile.
Silk grips CeCe’s hand. “Tell us more,” s
he says.
And in her rigid plastic seat, Starlight tries not to let her expression give away the flutter in her stomach. Maybe this means Flash Jr. will stick around for a while. And maybe she’ll actually get up the courage to talk to him if he does.
The tenth frame ends and the Bowlarama goes dark, black light flicking on and disco strobe patterns lighting the lanes as the neon-psychedelic planets and stars on the ceilings and above the lanes glow. The G-String Men and the Ultra Fabulous Glitter Squadron take to the polished floors, turning the Bowlarama into a disco as the music kicks in.
Despite the music, Bunny still hears it when her cell phone chirps. Stepping away from the strobe of multicolored lights, she looks at the screen.
“What is it?” Penny steps up beside Bunny.
“It’s from the Bundespräsident der Bundesrepublik Deutschland. Swamp Kreaturen.” Bunny sighs. “Attacking the Fabergé Museum in Baden-Baden.”
“No rest for the fabulous.” Penny grins.
Bunny drops her phone back into her beaded purse, squaring her shoulders, the familiar sense of exhilaration filling her.
The Ultra Fabulous Glitter Squadron must save the world again.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Writing is a solitary pursuit, but no book is created in a void containing the author alone. I owe thanks to many people for the collection you hold in your hands. First and foremost, my family - my husband, for understanding my occasional need to disappear and write, and my parents, for their encouragement and support, even though speculative fiction isn’t my dad’s thing, and my mom thinks everything I write is too scary. A huge amount of thanks is due to Steve Berman and Lethe Press for taking a chance on my beautiful, glittering ladies, and giving them a good home. A.T. Greenblatt for being an excellent first reader, and giving me invaluable feedback on the collection, and Sunny Moraine for the same, and for also teaching me about make up. Leah Bobet at Ideomancer for giving the Glitter Squadron their first home, and Beth Wodzinski, E. Catherine Tobler, and all the diligent badgers at Shimmer for giving Bunny her second home when she insisted her origin story needed to be told. Bernie Mojzes for inadvertently daring me to write the first Glitter Squadron story in less than twenty four hours. To all the folks who expressed excitement about this collection along the way, who acted as cheerleaders, and listened patiently. A ginormous, glittery thank you to my wonderful writing community, my chosen family (all of you, yes, you, you know who you are) - for swapping critiques, hanging out at conventions and coffeehouses, for sharing victories and defeats, for encouragement and kicks-in-the-pants. Whether I’ve met you in person or in the virtual world, you are all fabulous, and I couldn’t do this without you. Only praise is due to all of these people; any errors, omissions, or fault in this text is solely my own. Last, but not least, thank you to you, dear reader. This collection is for you. I hope it makes your world a little more glittery.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
A.C. Wise was born and raised in Montreal, and currently lives in the Philadelphia area. Her first professionally published piece of fiction was printed on the label of a coffee can, which seems strangely fitting. Since then, her short stories have appeared in Apex, Uncanny, Shimmer, Year’s Best Weird Fiction Volume 1, and The Year’s Best Dark Fantasy and Horror, among other places. In addition to her fiction, she co-edits Unlikely Story, and contributes a monthly column to SF Signal. She blogs sporadically at her website, www.acwise.net, and tweets slightly more than sporadically as @ac_wise.
