Beauty Queens Part 42

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 b.l.o.o.d.y 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 p.o.r.n 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 b.u.t.t.

"You b.i.t.c.hes!" a guard snarled at Miss Montana.

"Excuse me? You try to kill us, we defend ourselves, and we get called b.i.t.c.hes? So typical!" Miss New Mexico head b.u.t.ted 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 Peac.o.c.k 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 Peac.o.c.k 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 Peac.o.c.k'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 Peac.o.c.k 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."

"Bulls.h.i.t. 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 a.s.sholes, 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 h.e.l.l 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 a.r.s.enal 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 c.o.c.k. 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 hoa.r.s.e 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."

"n.o.body'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 s.h.i.t!"

"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 b.u.t.t, 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."