by McKay, Faith
"I can't believe they didn't cut me out of the shots," Sadie said.
"It'd be impossible, really," Carrie said.
"Why?" Gerri whispered, and then cringed at her own hesitance. She needed to cut this weakling shit out. She planted her feet on the floor, not letting herself hide.
Someone gasped, drawing Gerri's attention back to the screen just in time to see Carrie standing front and center, drawing the zombie's attention so it ran right at her. They showed a shot of Gerri, to give the impression that she was where she should have been, with the group for the most dangerous part.
Like a special effect, Sadie's leg zipped out, hitting the running zombie hard in the side, knocking it to the ground. It skidded across the gym just like Gerri had, leaving a bloody smear behind it. Jo and Dee and Carrie stood at the ready in a wide shot. Without hesitation, Jo stabbed the zombie's head with a machete at the same time Carrie stabbed its chest and Dee slashed its belly. Before the three of them pulled back, Sadie, at the edge of the screen, whipped a knife through the air into the side of the zombie's skull.
Double, double tap.
There was a close up of Carrie's face, with a flash of a tired smile they had to have gotten earlier, because there was no way she'd smiled like that in the moment. In truth, they'd either been staring at Dylan, or focusing on looking away. Carrie's close-up faded out, and suddenly they were all back in the club dancing, their hair and outfits perfect again. They danced for only a few more seconds before laughing and putting their arms around each other. They walked out of the club like that, with their arms around each other. The background changed so they were on a sidewalk, the shot framed by the open doors of the club. The shadows on the sidewalk behind them morphed into the word WARRIORS.
The night faded to black with the end of the song.
White writing with a neon pink shadow took over the screen, an announcement for their first concert, in a stadium.
In a week.
The video froze on its final frame, and headlines filled the screen, begging to be clicked on.
DEADLY DIVAS FIRST MUSIC VIDEO—OUT NOW!
DO THE DIVAS SURVIVE THEIR FIRST MUSIC VIDEO? WATCH TO FIND OUT!
WARRIORS DANCE TUTORIAL—CLICK HERE!
WHO'S THE TOUGHEST DIVA? LET US KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!
DANCING, BLOOD, AND OH MY GOD FASHION!
Carrie went through three pages of headlines before finding a mention of Dylan's death during filming. He was simply referred to as “a cameraman”.
Jo was the first to speak. "I can't believe they still showed it."
"Of course they did," Dee said.
"This is messed up," Sadie said.
"It was good," Dee said. "I look good."
"How can you say that?"
"Just because he died doesn't make me ugly," Dee said. "And one of the last things he did is show off my gorgeous self. That can't go to waste."
"Maybe we should watch it again," Carrie suggested.
"Right now?" Sadie asked, incredulous. "This is so disgusting. A man died."
"This whole experience has us all out of balance, understandably," Carrie said. "I think we all need some time, some deep—"
"What are you talking about?" Sadie asked.
"Blocked energy. Our Chakras."
"Our what?"
"Chakras are the energy centers in our bodies, and—"
"I think we should send autographed posters to Dylan's daughters," Dee interrupted. "They have to have posters out for us by now, right? Has anyone seen any? We should get Meghan on that."
"You want to send pictures of ourselves to Dylan's half-orphaned kids?" Sadie asked.
"Half-orphan?" Gerri asked. "Is that a thing?" She guessed it probably was. If not, there should be a word for it.
Dee sighed. "Yes. Do you have a problem with that?"
"I don't even know where to start with you people." Sadie leaned back in her seat and crossed her legs. Her slinky robe was caught on her fuzzy, purple, candy-cane prosthesis. Gerri wanted to ask her just how many legs she had, but it wasn't the time—not that it would have stopped her any other day.
"Is everyone else missing the big news?" Carrie asked. "Concert? Next week?"
"Oh, is that the big news? Let's make sure to let Dylan's kids know," Sadie said.
"What has happened is tragic," Carrie said.
"Oh really?" Sadie leaned forward, her eyes sharp. "Because that would seem to be news to the world, too."
"What has happened is tragic," Carrie said again, "but tragic things happen."
"Pfft." Sadie waved her hands in front of her face, pushing away the idea. "That doesn't make it nothing. That doesn't mean we shouldn't care, shouldn't do something. That doesn't mean we should invite tragedy in and say, 'Oh, okay, that's great, lets throw a concert.'"
No one said anything. Gerri was waiting for it, for someone to look at her, to say what everyone was thinking, this is your fault, but none of them had the guts to do it. She'd say it, but she wasn't sure she wouldn't cry after, and she didn't want the bullshit comfort of them telling her it was okay. It was not okay. But her shame didn't change that.
How had she become this person? Carrie was leading the group. She'd taken center stage in the video. They all had their moments where they were stepping up. Except Gerri, who was literally falling down and ruining her own life. Her ankle was still sore.
"We should call Willa," Dee said.
"Good idea," Carrie said, and dialed her up for a conference call on the big screen. No answer.
"Figures," Sadie said.
The front door burst open, and if they'd had the fortune of missing the ding of the security system and bang of the swinging door, they couldn't have missed the clapping.
"Meghan," Carrie said. "What a coincidence. We just tried phoning Willa."
"I don't know why you'd want to bother her right now," Meghan said. She was wearing a pink cardigan, with a knee length floral mermaid skirt, also—surprise!—in pink. They were soft and pretty pinks, with dashes of soft yellows here and there. It did look nice on her, but wow, the girl needed to explore some different color palettes. The stylists kept talking to them about their wardrobes in terms of branding; if they wore similar styles repeatedly it would make them more easily recognizable, especially in the beginning of their careers. If Meghan was trying to brand herself, she'd succeeded. Clapping, loud figure in deceptively soft pinks. Gerri had been spending the majority of her days with Meghan always around, and literally had nothing else to say about her.
"I don't know, Meghan, why would we want to bother our manager right now, of all times?" Carrie tapped a finger on her chin. "Let's see. There's our dead cameraman. Our newly aired music video. And, oh yeah, a scheduled concert we had no idea about. But, yeah, nope, can't think of any reason Willa might want to speak with us. What silly girls we are."
"You really are the sunshine in my day, Carrie." Meghan beamed over at her, and Carrie smiled right back. Gerri would love to put the two of them in a ring and sell tickets to that battle of sweet, smiled sarcasm.
Dee raised her hand for attention, like they were in a classroom or something. "Why didn't they do, like, an in memorial thing for Dylan in the video?"
"Because it's tacky, dear," Meghan said.
Carrie rolled her eyes. "Of all people," she mumbled.
"Is anyone sending anything to Dylan's family?" Dee asked.
"It's being taken care of," Meghan said.
"How?" Dee demanded.
"Yeah," Sadie agreed. "How?"
"That's not your concern," Meghan said. "This concert is."
"Yes, right, there we go being silly again, thinking the man who died saving our lives has nothing to do with us," Carrie said.
"Some of us actually knew Dylan," Meghan snapped, and then stepped past the girls up to their picture window, looking out at the city below them. During the day, from this high up, they could just make out the tops of the mountains over the wall surrounding the city. I
n the dim morning light there was not much for Meghan to be looking at. She turned back to them, her side pony tail bouncing on her shoulder. "In light of Dylan's passing, we had to make a bigger splash in the news reports today. This has sped everything up considerably, and with your debut concert only a week away there is no time to waste." She clapped her hands, her bright smile turned up to blinding. "Much to do, much to do!" Meghan strode back out through the living room, just as the fitness trainers came through the front door. They couldn't have had more perfect timing if they'd planned it, which maybe they had. Gerri didn't put much past Meghan. Gerri didn't put much past anybody.
Just before leaving the apartment, Meghan shouted, "Now the real work begins!"
Sadie raised her eyebrows and said what they were all thinking: "What have we been doing so far?"
EUREKA! NEWSFEED
DEADLY DIVAS: NINE LEGS AND FOUR DEAD CORPSES
WHO ARE THE DEADLY DIVAS? WHAT WE'VE LEARNED
DEADLY DIVA TICKETS SELLING AT RECORD PACE
WHAT TO SAY IF YOUR DAUGHTER WANTS TO JOIN THE MILITARY
TROLLS OR EXTREMISTS? WHO THREATENS THE DEADLY DIVAS
WHAT WE DON'T KNOW ABOUT THE DEADLY DIVAS
Chapter Fifteen
CARRIE
At the beginning of every training session their phones were confiscated and kept in Aimee's bag, slouched in the corner of the room. Dee had all but bit them in protest.
"Today? Of all days?" Dee had stomped her foot then and tucked her phone down her cleavage.
"You think that's going to scare me?" Viktoria, the most outspoken of their trainers, reached down and took it.
"She has a point, though," Sadie said. "We have a concert in a week. Do we really need to be wasting time on workouts right now?"
"Yes, especially today," Aimee said, sticking the phone in their bag. "I need you focused."
"Focus. Focus?" Dee stomped over to the other side of the room without explaining why that was so absurd. Carrie couldn't help but smile. A few weeks prior she wouldn't have thought she'd ever learn to tolerate Dee, and now she wasn't sure how she'd live without her. If Jo was fascinated by her naive honesty, Carrie was most charmed by her temper tantrums. It was everything Carrie worked not to be. Dee wasn't in control of herself at all.
Viktoria, Aimee, and Josh must have derived deep satisfaction from designing workout routines meant specifically to target whatever they had the greatest difficulty with. Carrie didn't much enjoy having all of her weaknesses pointed out, or having workouts be such a group activity. She used to love exercising alone, either with a new or trusted yoga routine, or a few hours in the dance studio. But the trainers had no interest in that. It was the five of them, sweating and grunting and lifting and pushing through pain all in one smelly room together. She did feel stronger already, though, so there was some benefit to the misery, and the distraction it provided was sorely needed. Sadie and Gerri were still questioning whether they should be in a band that represented such callousness. Dylan's death was sad—but quitting? Carrie didn't do such things. She wasn't sure what was going to happen if the others actually quit. It was hard to imagine anyone doing that. Didn't everyone want this? She hoped they'd come to their sense on their own.
About thirty minutes into their workout Viktoria and Aimee left for their normal fifteen minute bathroom break. It usually went over that fifteen minute mark, and Gerri had made loudly clear that she did not believe they were using the bathroom for its intended purpose. The more disheveled they were upon return, the more fun Gerri's day got. Carrie looked over at her, waiting for Gerri to raise her eyebrows suggestively or make a loud sound, but Gerri stayed focused on the treadmill in front of her.
"Oh, I'm so sorry!" Dee squealed. "I'm so clumsy." She giggled. It was so fake it made Carrie and Sadie laugh without knowing what it was about—Jo even cracked a smile, which Carrie figured counted as a laugh from her, and Gerri... something was wrong with Gerri. She wasn't noticing the world much.
"I'm soaked," Josh said. The whole front of his pants were wet.
"Oopsy." Dee gave a slight shrug, still holding the empty bottle.
"I'll be right back. I expect you to do twenty more before I'm back. No slacking, Dee."
"Sorry," Dee said again, and went back to climbing on her machine.
Josh held his pants away from his body as best he was able and left the gym. Before the doors even closed behind him Dee leapt from her machine and went straight for the phones.
"Hurry," she whispered, holding the bag out to the rest of them while her thumb zipped across her own screen. "Oh my god," Dee said. "Oh my god!"
"What?" Sadie asked, already with her own phone in hand.
"Finally," Dee said.
Carrie's phone had been attacked. She almost dropped the thing. Websites she didn't even know she had accounts at were notifying her of hundreds of messages. People she didn't even know had her direct number.
DefaultBoss: Hey girl, looking good! Love to get together n hang out!
urmomwishes: Hey you
Kara: Hey Carrie! I didn't realize it was you who got the Deadly Divas spot. Good 4 U! Miss U! Could I be one of your backup dancers?
Kara had invited Carrie to a sleep over party once, before Carrie's mom died. It hadn't gone very well.
She almost missed the message from her dad, but there it was.
Dad: You gave up school for this?
She sent him back a, “Yup”. She hadn't really given up school. She fully intended to finish school, to go to college, even. But what good did finishing school get her if she would just end up drafted to go fight zombies, dead, never having done anything she meant to? She was going to become famous now, and then, when she had time, she was going to finish school. She was going to be unstoppable. He'd see.
She put down her phone. The fame thing was starting. There was nothing to do but return to her workout. She went back to resenting the room full of people and wishing for even thirty minutes of silence. She had a feeling that was going to be missing from her life for a long time to come.
GERRI
Gerri's best friend, Nelly, hadn't written to her. She'd stopped messaging her a few days after Gerri left. She thought about messaging her, to ask if she'd seen the video, but of course she'd seen the video. Everyone had seen the video.
Nelly had really wanted that spot. But she couldn't stay mad at Gerri for getting it. That just wasn't fair. She'd call her up soon.
Mom: You really found where you fit, honey. Good for you.
Dad: We're so proud of you.
All of her old boyfriends wanted to hang out. Keep dreaming. She didn't bother replying.
SADIE
She had messages from people who claimed to be her friends (she was pickier than that), people she knew from school, people who knew her through other people, more black girls than she'd ever seen in Fort Atlas—where had they been all her life?—and people she didn't know at all. Fort Atlas suddenly felt so much bigger than it ever had.
Mom: Where'd my baby girl go? How'd you get so amazing? You know how amazing I thought you were when you learned to talk? You just improve with age, you beautiful girl, you. Your daddy is smiling right now. Believe it.
Anthony: Hey sis. Wow. Did you know you were scary? Be careful for me, I flinched a few times. My sister, the warrior. I always knew you'd show us how it was done.
Her mom was only working one job now. She had time to do things, like sleep. Sadie was missing it, but she could imagine, and that was so much more than enough. Her mom followed up with a message telling her to visit, when she had time. Sadie promised, as soon as this concert was over, she'd make sure to get a few days off.
Sadie put her phone down, and tried to keep her head from flying right up to the ceiling.
DEE
Dad: I can't believe you have to ask, of course you look pretty! You're the prettiest, kiddo.
Mom: I told you you could do anything. All the neighbors keep coming over looking for you. You
r dad's loving it. You know how he is. Bragging about his little star. You are so brave. Try to be a little scared, to keep yourself careful, okay? We love you, how much?
Dee: 2 the moon n back. Love ur faces. Never scared. Always careful. Love U more.
Her phone was so overloaded with messages that after she checked in with her parents, the battery died. She needed to get on a computer, like, hours ago.
JO
Jo didn't want to check her phone. She knew this was it. They were finally going to say something—there was no way her family could cover up that she'd left after this, no matter how tightly communications outside the community were guarded. Her family knew where she was, what she was doing, and they were going to have something to say about it.
Only they didn't.
Hundreds of messages on her phone—nothing compared to what Dee was reporting, but tons more than she'd expected as the scary survivalist—and not one from anyone she knew. She stared at her phone, waiting for it to appear.
They loved her. They'd loved her. She'd told herself over and over that their hearts belonged to the community first, that she'd never hear from them again, and still. She didn't know how much she'd expected them to come for her, until they didn't.
Angry footsteps charged down the hall and Dee quickly stashed the phones back in the bags. Before Aimee made it back in the room, she loudly whispered to the rest of them, "It's not like we can just quit now, especially when Dylan died, right?"
Sadie grunted. Gerri sighed. That was it for the talk of quitting, then. They were really Deadly Divas now. This was it.
WILLA’S PHONE
Meghan: We have a problem.
Willa: Handle it?
Meghan: We have a big problem.
