CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
The morning fog rolled across the water in a wall. The camp was filled with movement. Tracks were being covered. Identifying markers were placed on the tents, making it seem as if it were a rebel training ground instead of a Corporation outpost. The girls had set themselves up off to the side of the volcano, where they practiced circle-turns and dance moves as if that were the only thing on their minds. Adina wrote questions on index cards. They’d convinced The Corporation that Adina would make a terrific host for the show since her ambition was to become “the hostess of a dance-show competition between warring nations in an effort to forge peace between them.” As Fabio Testosterone had been caught frolicking in an illegal Skee-Ball emporium with the hot male star of Your Blood Is, Like, So Hot46, The Corporation agreed.
“So, we’ve got the intro singing number, the evening gown, talent, bathing suit, interview, followed by a final dance number, and then the crowning. It all comes down to the dance number,” Shanti said. “Once we start the dance number, you’ve got three minutes and eight seconds.”
Nicole whistled. “That’s not a lot of time.”
“Every problem is a solution in disguise,” Shanti said, echoing one of the Miss Teen Dream manual’s affirmations.
“Really with the slogans?” Adina snarked.
“Okay. How about this: If we don’t peel off one by one and start running for the yacht by the end of the song, we’re dead.”
“Surprisingly motivating. Teen Dreamers, we’ve got one shot: Place the tampered Lady ’Stache Off at the end of the runway. Aim the flare gun at it and run like hell. Make it back here, then head for the docking cave and pray that Mary Lou and Tane got control of the yacht. Everyone know their parts?”
The girls nodded. Tiara put a hand to her stomach. “Ohmigosh, y’all, I’m so nervous! What if I mess up?”
Adina put a hand on Tiara’s shoulder. “You’re not going to mess up, Tiara. You can do this. You built a hut. You learned to fish and catch rainwater for drinking. You’re a survivor.”
“Okay,” Tiara whispered. “Okay.”
A black shirt strode over, hands at his hips. “What are you girls gossiping about over there?”
“Pageant stuff,” Adina said, forcing herself to sound extrachipper and borderline stupid, the tone that disarmed people, made them think you weren’t a threat. The black shirt smiled. It was astonishing how easily that worked. Adina smiled back. Her smile said, You will not know what hit you, jerkface.
Jeeps carried them through the jungle. Adina looked for Taylor, but she was nowhere to be seen. The girls’ camp bounced into view, and seeing everything — the huts, the rainwater tarp, the sequined banner — Adina felt a surge of pride. They’d done this on their own, without any help. It was better than any feeling she could remember. And now these jerks wanted to take it all away. She could only hope the girls’ plan would work.
The Jeeps came to a stop on top of the HELP stones. “Not bad,” Agent Jones said appreciatively. He cut one of the fishing lines.
“What are you doing?” Shanti barked.
“You don’t need them anymore, right? Now that you’ve been rescued.”
“Yeah, but you could ask first. We worked hard on those.”
“I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”
“You didn’t hurt my feelings. You pissed me off,” Shanti said, glaring. “There’s a difference.”
“Remember,” Petra whispered. “Play it cool.”
Shanti forced a smile. “Um, no offense or anything. I’m not mad, I’m just kind of sad. And emotional.”
Agent Jones patted her shoulder. “Understandable. You girls have been through a lot. Tonight, all you have to do is smile and wave.” He cut the other fishing line and let them both drift out to sea.
The black shirts had been busy setting up a performance area on the beach. They’d constructed a wooden stage with a red curtain across the front. Now they were building a runway.
“We’ve run out of wood,” one of the black shirts called.
“Just take it from one of the huts,” Agent Jones shot back, and the black shirts tore the walls from Tiara’s home.
“My place!” she cried.
Petra wrapped her up in a big hug. “Come on. Let’s go get our game faces on.”
Adina took Nicole aside. “I need you to cover for me.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to find Taylor, see if I can get her to help.”
“But how? She’s straight-up crazy now.”
“Sometimes, a little crazy is exactly what you need.”
The girls practiced their dance routine loudly. Nicole banged hard on her drum. Adina slipped into the jungle and ran for Taylor’s secret hideaway. It had taken on a ghoulish quality; Taylor had affixed several black shirts to poles outside her cave and lit them to make torches. In the firelight, Miss Miss seemed to undulate in some ancient dance. Taylor sat before the sculpture on her haunches, swiping mud across her cheeks in long, thick streaks.
“Hey, Taylor.” Adina crept closer. “Whatcha doin’?”
Taylor’s knife was at Adina’s throat quickly.
“Whoa. Taylor, it’s me, Adina. Miss New Hampshire.”
Taylor seemed to be trying to remember something. “New Hampshire … I don’t like you, do I?”
“Not so much,” Adina said, swallowing hard. “Look, I know we’ve had our differences, but you know what? We’re on the same team. There are some bad people out there, Taylor. People who want to hurt us. You were trying to warn us that day, weren’t you?”
Taylor took the knife away. “Lies. It’s all lies.”
“I know. But we’re not going to let them get away with it.”
“A Miss Teen Dream doesn’t complain. She offers a smile and an ambassador to the world.” Taylor frowned. “No. That isn’t right.”
“Taylor, we’re going to get off the island. Tonight. There’s a boat and we’re going to make a break for it. But we need your help to fight off the guards.”
“A girl’s best weapon is her smile,” Taylor parroted.
“No. I mean real weapons. We’ve got to fight our way out of here before they kill us. Tonight. Look, just meet us at the volcano, okay? Taylor! Are you listening?”
The wind picked up; the fire responded with a surge of desire. Taylor looked around as if she were seeing everything for the first time: the arsenal, the unassailable wall of green, the volcano stretching up from the land like an angry fist of rock. The humidity had wreaked havoc on her hair, which was a tangle of greasy blond. There were dark circles beneath her eyes. Her face was haunted.
“I can’t be what they want,” she whispered, and it seemed to her that those words had come to her from long ago. An expression of childlike confusion came over her face. She put her arms around Miss Miss like a child seeking comfort. “I just wanted to be somebody.”
“You are somebody,” Adina said. “You’re Taylor Rene Krystal Hawkins. And you know a lot about the military, dance, bathing suits, kicking ass, and handling firearms. And right now, your Teen Dreams need you. Can you meet us at the volcano after the pageant starts?”
Taylor’s mouth went hard. “They won’t want us like this.” As if snapping out of a dream, Taylor smiled and posed, but her eyes were still haunted. She spoke rapidly. “One thousand strokes will bring the lies to your hair. A lady never and a lady does and a lady always. Shine and sparkle.”
Taylor flitted from spot to spot, turning pirouettes, waving to an unseen crowd. “Do you like me? Do you like me now?”
“Taylor!” Adina snapped, but Taylor was beyond hearing. Reluctantly, Adina turned to go, leaving Taylor behind to blow kisses at an unseen crowd.