Lipstick & Zombies (Deadly Divas Book 1) (18 page)

BOOK: Lipstick & Zombies (Deadly Divas Book 1)
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"Now, hon? Seriously?" Gerri staggered out of her bedroom, looking downright haggard. Dee had always thought Gerri dressed decent enough; she wouldn't have expected her to choose to keep walking around looking like that.

"It's up!"

"What is up?" Sadie growled. She had a different prosthesis on, it was furry and had a purple candy cane style print on it. Dee couldn't decide if it was great or ridiculous, which meant it was at least interesting, so Dee had to applaud her for it. All the boldest fashion choices had to get near that line.

"What the hell do you think is up?" Gerri asked. She took a deep breath and put a hand out to stop anyone from saying anything back to her. "Sorry. Bad day."

Sadie grunted.

"Are we going to watch it?" Jo asked.

"Why wouldn't we?" Dee asked. They all gave her that look they thought she didn't understand, the are-you-dumb? one. "Everyone else in the world is."

Carrie turned the big screen on.

 

GERRI

 

If there was one thing Gerri was not, it was small. No matter what anyone else had to say about it, she'd never wanted to be. Gerri commanded attention in a room; she took up space. She had nothing to hide, no matter what anyone else thought. Her whole life she'd seen people curl up on the sides of rooms like pillbugs, and she'd brushed them off as the sad cases they were.

Curled up at the end of the sofa, wishing she could roll her ball self all the way out of the room without anyone noticing, she recognized herself as one of those people. It was not a good look.

What the hell was it? Was it shame? Was there a grosser emotion than this?

The video started up, and she gripped her ankles, pulling her legs closer to herself.

There they were, dancing in the club to their own song, which, now that she thought about it, was kind of awful. Didn't they look like assholes dancing to their own song? Their arms were all swinging in the air, and then in a quick flash, weapons appeared in their hands.

Carrie and Dee took out the first killer, looking cool, confident, and... impressive. It made Gerri cringe in anticipation of her own scenes. Sadie and Gerri took out the second one. The video was spliced together from a few different angles. It looked good. This was where Gerri fell, but they didn't show that, of course. In one fast shot, the clip glimpsed Gerri jumping up, fierce and furious and covered in blood, killing the blood-covered slow corpse they'd forgotten about, the third old one. Dylan was still on the ground screaming in pain while that happened, not that he was shown in the video, of course.

The focus flashed away from her and over to the other four, who were surrounding the fast one. There was a slow close up of the fast one from the side, an imposing masked figure in a slight crouch, looking at the four girls surrounding it like it was much smarter than they say it's supposed to be.

Sadie didn't wear that boring prosthesis they made her, but a silver and shiny thing she called her robot leg. Covered in blood, it looked especially badass.

"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. In 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?"

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