Beauty Queens (42 page)

“Could have been anything,” Nicole said.

“Yeah, anything,” Shanti agreed. “Atmospheric pressure.”

“Sudden tornado.”

The totems did not give any answers. Shanti bowed to the now quiet land. “Thank you.”
“Thank you,” Nicole said.

The wind responded with a light flutter of contentment.

Mary Lou and Tane had managed to avoid a direct hit, but the other ship fired again, narrowly missing them. They were on the run in the heavy fog.

“Can we fire back?” Mary Lou asked.

“Dunno. I just figured out how to steer this thing,” Tane answered. “Here. You take over and I’ll take a peek at the control panel.”

They switched places and Mary Lou put her hands on the wheel. She’d driven a car and a tractor, but this was something else entirely. It had the feel of destiny to it. “Man, I could get used to this.”

Mary Lou squinted into the fogbank again just as the ship emerged. She had to shift quickly into reverse to avoid colliding with it, and both she and Tane had to hold on tightly to keep from flying against the yacht’s custom teak cabinets.

“Whoa!” Tane called from the floor.

“Sorry!”

The enemy ship passed with only feet to spare. Mary Lou peered through the windows at it and broke into a huge grin. “I don’t believe it.”

A cannonball narrowly missed the yacht, soaking the bow and sending them wobbling like a toy again. “Tane! Take over!”

She took the spiral staircase at a clip and raced onto the upper deck. “Ahoy there, mateys!” she yelled, waving her arms wildly.

In the fog, she could hear Sinjin St. Sinjin’s order. “Cease your bloody fire, mates! Can’t you see there’s a hot bird ahead?”

Miss Ohio had taken her troops to the trees. “Shooters ready? New Mexico?”

“Ready,” Miss New Mexico answered. The arrows were laid out on the tray in her forehead, ready to go.

“Montana?”

Miss Montana held up her bow. “Check.”

“Arkansas?”

In her good hand, Miss Arkansas held a small coconut. “Oh yeah.”

“I guess we’re good to go,” Miss Ohio said. The footsteps were coming closer. “See them, New Mexico?”

“Not yet, Miss Ohi — do you think we could just call one another by our names?”

Miss Ohio nodded. “Sure thing, Caitlin.”

“Thanks, Caitlin,” Miss New Mexico answered. “Caitlin, I see them. They’re coming from your right.”

“Which Caitlin?” Miss Montana asked. “Me or Caitlin Arkansas?”

“Um, Caitlin Montana.”

“Ugh. That just made me sound like a porn star,” Miss Montana complained.

“Do you have a middle name? Maybe that would make it easier?”

“Yeah. It’s Ashley,” Miss Montana said.

“That’s my middle name, too,” Miss New Mexico said.

“And mine.” Miss Arkansas shrugged apologetically.

“Mine’s Ashlee with two
e’s,”
Miss Ohio offered.

Miss Montana nodded. “Right. What do you see now, New Mexico?”

“They’re almost here.”

Three black shirts moved through, guns drawn. Miss Ohio used her fingers to count down.

“Now!” she shouted. The arrows zipped down through the growth, clipping fronds
whsk-whsk-whsk.
One found its mark in a guard’s thigh. His AK-47 went off as he fell to the ground, grabbing at the thin stake of wood.

“Reload!” Miss Ohio shouted, ducking.

A second hail of arrows arched out in a flawless display. It was like the opening number of the Miss Teen Dream Pageant with every girl knowing her steps, every girl in perfect sync with her sisters. Miss Arkansas launched her coconut at a guard’s head and he went down hard.

Miss Ohio dropped to the ground. “Take the guns,” she barked. The other girls scrambled down past the unconscious guard and the other two men who had taken arrows in the legs and butt.

“You bitches!” a guard snarled at Miss Montana.

“Excuse me?
You
try to kill us, we defend ourselves, and
we
get called bitches? So typical!” Miss New Mexico head butted the man, knocking him out with her tray.

“Thanks,” Miss Montana said.

“Don’t mention it.”

The girls removed the ammo and tossed the guns as far into the jungle as they could sling them. Then they set off for the compound.

“This is going to look so good when they make the TV movie of my life,” Miss Ohio said.

Back on the beach, The Peacock examined the bulletproof vest, which had taken the full brunt of the gunfire. General Good Times had not been so lucky. “General Good Times! Noooo!” The Peacock fell to his knees in the sand. When he rose again, he held aloft the only thing left of his comrade — a stuffed foot. In the firelight, The Peacock’s eyes burned. His Elvis wig had been knocked askew during the blast. It clung to his scalp like tentacles of soft-serve ice cream on a hot day.

Spittle formed at the taut edges of his mouth. “I will have revenge on toast for the death of my trusted advisor. Soon, everybody in the whole cell block will be dancing to my jailhouse
rock.” The Peacock removed the safety from his pistol. “Let’s boogie, beauty queens.”

“HEY! JENNIFER! STOP!”

Jennifer turned to face Sosie, who was bent over, breathing deeply.

“We need to keep moving,” Jennifer signed.

“No. Stop. Need to know first.”

“Know what?”

Sosie hesitated for a moment, waiting for the words. “Why are you ignoring me?”

“I’m not ignoring you.”

“Bullshit. You’ve been avoiding me ever since …” Sosie stopped. “Is it because I’m not sure I’m gay?”

Jennifer gestured to the jungle behind them. “You know what? Not the time.”

“Yes. It is the time. If we get offed by a bunch of Corporation assholes, I don’t want to go out without telling you this.”

“Telling me what?”

Sosie rubbed her right fist over her heart.

“Sorry for what?” Jennifer signed.

“Sorry I can’t be what you want me to be. Sorry I’m not your dream girl.”

Jennifer wanted to let it go, but she couldn’t. “You kissed me! What the hell was that?”

“I don’t know! I just … wanted to.”

“So, it was nothing for you? Like, ‘Hey, kids, I wanted to try strawberry licorice, so I did. Hooray! How cool am I?’”

“I don’t know what you’re saying,” Sosie said.

“Did that mean nothing to you?” Jennifer enunciated clearly.

“It wasn’t like that. I liked it. I like
you.”

“I’m all confused again.” Jennifer paced away and came back. “Are you gay or not?”

“I don’t know what I am yet,” Sosie answered. “I’m still figuring it out. But if I
were
a big, card-carrying, softball-playing, Joan Jett-worshipping lezbot, I would totally jump you.”

“Nice stereotyping.” Jennifer rolled her eyes, but a blush worked its way up her neck. “For the record, I hate softball. But, um, thanks for that other bit.”

Sosie hugged Jennifer. “You’re, like, the coolest girl I know. And I’d hate it if you hated me.”

“I don’t hate you. As much. I mean, I definitely hated you for a little while there.”

Sosie folded down her middle and ring fingers and waved the sign at Jennifer.

“Whatever,” Jennifer said.

“Do it back.”

“We need to go.”

Sosie didn’t give up. She turned it into a robot dance, arms and legs popping and locking, her expression wide-eyed and smiling.

“Don’t do the happy robot dance. You know I’m defenseless against that.”

Sosie quickened her jerky movements until she resembled a robot on speed. Through it all, she kept her hands locked in the same sign until Jennifer finally laughed.

“Okay, okay,” she said, returning the gesture. “I love you, too.”

Sosie stuck out her hand. “Friends?”

Jennifer sighed. She gave Sosie a small, fake punch to the upper arm. “Eventually.”

Sosie nodded. “Fair enough. Someday, you’ll marry this amazing woman and I’ll be your maid of honor.”

Jennifer made a face. “Maybe Adina will be my maid of honor.”

Sosie raised an eyebrow.

“Right. Well, you better get me a big wedding present.”

Sosie wasn’t sure what Jennifer had said, but she was smiling, so Sosie smiled, too. “Ready, Flint Avenger?”

“Ready, Sidekick Sosie. Let’s go take down an evil corporation.”

Taylor led Adina to the arsenal the girls had made in the jungle weeks before, and Adina cleared away vines and leaves from the catapult, the cannon, the stash of beauty product weapons. “Cool. I think I can get this working… .”

Adina heard a gun cock. She turned and saw Taylor aiming the rifle at her. “Taylor, what are you doing?”

“You’re not a Miss Teen Dream. You never believed.”

Adina swallowed hard. Sweat trickled into her gown. “No.”

“Why did you do that?”

“I thought it was bad for us.”

“There’s a lot worse out there,” Taylor said.

“I know that now.”

“I’ve been in the jungle a long time,” Taylor said in a voice made hoarse by tears. Adina started to say something and Taylor shushed her. “No. Listen. No one ever just listens.”

Adina nodded. “Okay.”

“At first, I was scared to be alone. No routines. No rules. Just me. But I think …” Taylor wiped a tear away. “I think I was always in the jungle. Before. It was always there. I think I had to come out here to find the answer.”

Above them, a bird screeched. Another answered. The trees echoed.

“And what did you find?”

“I love myself. They make it so hard for us to love ourselves.” Taylor stared off into the dark. Her face gleamed with tears. Snot ran over her lips. “The judges won’t like that answer.”

“Nobody’s judging you.”

Taylor choked on a sob. “Always,” she whispered.

“I’m not the enemy, Taylor.”

With an angry grunt, Taylor raised the gun again.

“Taylor …” Adina pleaded. She shut her eyes as the gun went
off. She heard a thump behind her. The black shirt was inches away, the knife still in his hand. “Holy shit!”

“Language, Miss New Hampshire,” Taylor said. The smoke from the gun billowed around her face. “You owe me twenty-five cents.”

Adina laughed. For a second, she thought she sensed a glimmer of the non-crazy Taylor, or at least the less-crazy Taylor.

There were shouts from the trees. More were coming. Adina hopped behind the catapult and readied the eyelash curler and lipstick projectiles. “You ready to kick some bad-people butt, Miss Texas?”

Taylor adjusted the bandolier so that it fell perfectly across her chest like a winner’s sash. She brushed her fingers through her hair and grabbed her AK-47. With a final toss of her head, she smiled. Her eyes glistened. “You know what? I am.”

Adina loaded the catapult with eyelash curlers, safety razors, and straightening irons. “Who’s more awesome than you, Taylor Rene Krystal Hawkins, Miss Teen Dream Texas?”

Taylor seemed to think for a moment. “Nobody.” She cut the rope and a volley of beauty products sailed through the trees. The black shirts shouted as the metal hit them.

A black shirt reached for Taylor, who rolled and retrieved the filled foundation tube. She blew hard, getting him splat in the eyes. He shrieked. Another guard leapt onto Taylor from the tree. He raised his knife. Adina swirled the hair dryer on its cord and let it fly, whacking him in the head and knocking him out.

“Boo-yah!” she shouted.

Taylor lured the others. She grabbed a vine and swung over the leaf-strewn pit. Foolishly, the black shirts charged and fell deep into the hole. A shot grazed Taylor’s arm.

“Taylor!” Adina ducked behind a tree. “Taylor, get your ass over here!”

“Language,” Taylor said through clenched teeth. Her arm oozed blood. She looked up to see Agent Jones aiming for her.

“Taylor!” Adina whisper-shouted.

Taylor narrowed her eyes. A strange smile played at her lips. “Final interview round, Miss New Hampshire! I’m sorry. You have not made Top Five. Dodge and weave back to Hanover.”

Agent Jones got off another shot, but this time, Taylor was ready. She darted into the jungle to her right, letting Agent Jones chase her.

“Shit,” Adina said, and ran for the compound.

Harris had waited until he was sure he was alone before angling the Swiss Army Knife from his pocket and cutting through his restraints. Tossing the ropes aside, he laughed. “People are always misunderestimating me.”

Armed with an AK-47, he headed out into the jungle just as Tiara and Petra were making their way toward the compound. Harris aimed the AK-47 at the girls and they raised their hands in surrender. Tiara hopped a little from foot to foot.

“Stop moving!” Harris barked.

“Sorry. I have to pee,” Tiara said.

“You’re the dumb one, aren’t you?”

Tiara’s face reddened.

“You’re one to talk,” Petra said.

“Hey! I went to Yale.”

“I could go to Yale, too, if my dad bought my way.”

“Shut up!” Harris went to hit Petra with the gun, and she karate-chopped his arm. The gun dropped to the ground. They all raced for it at once. Tiara bumped into Petra, who fell backward, giving Harris a chance to grab the gun again. He put the muzzle to Petra’s head.

“Stop it!” Tiara yelled.

“Yeah? You smart enough to stop me?”

“I …” Tiara wasn’t sure what to do. He had a gun to Petra’s head. “Um, stop it, please?”

“Please? Please?” Harris laughed. “Oh my God. You really are dumb, aren’t you?”

Dumb.
It’s what everyone had said, when she’d struggled in school or asked questions that made people laugh behind their hands: “Don’t worry about it. You’re a pretty girl. You’ll be fine.” But Tiara had worried about it. She felt like someday there would be a test that didn’t involve getting an A in pretty, and she would fail it. That test day had come.

“Maybe I’m not the smartest person in the world, but at least I keep trying. I keep learning,” she said.

Harris scoffed. “Oh, so
inspiring.
Honestly, what do you know how to do, huh? Tell me and maybe I won’t waste you.”

“W-well …”

“Nothing, that’s what,” Harris taunted. “All you know how to do is look good.”