by Adan Ramie
“I can’t do this.” Riley’s chest hurt and her scars burned. Everything started to swirl around her. “I can’t. I can’t. I can’t.”
Cindy grabbed her by the arm and looked into her eyes with a challenging raise of her eyebrows. “You can’t do this? You survived a monster, sugar. You survived when no one else could have. You’re a damn warrior, Riley David. A couple of pasty losers who spend their days in their mothers’ basements can’t stop you when you set your mind to something.”
The audience outside quieted, and Riley listened until she heard Nick’s voice over the loudspeaker. “Riley and Cindy?”
This was her chance to do everything she said she would while she was in recovery. She had made a point to declare it to any who would listen that she would make a difference with her story. She would earn her survival.
She gritted her teeth and took Cindy’s outstretched hand.
“Atta girl,” Cindy said, and led Riley past the curtain and onto the stage. Cindy waved with her free hand, comfortable in the spotlight, while Riley squinted under its intense brightness.
They settled in their chairs, the lights eased up, and Riley breathed a sigh of relief. She mouthed her thanks to Cindy. Cindy winked back and a warmth rushed through her chest. Everything was going to be all right.
“You know their stories and you’ve heard the rumors, but at this event, the Final Girls are here to set the record straight once and for all,” Nick said.
He turned from his podium to the table where the six survivors sat. “First up today is Bethany Gladly. Bethany, would you like to tell us why you’re here?”
The petite brunette wrapped the fingers of one hand around the opposite shoulder, whispered something, then leaned forward to her microphone. “I lived through a bombing.”
“Thank you, Bethany. Next to her is Sara Parrish. Sara?”
Sara leaned forward with her lips set primly. If anything, to Riley she looked like a peeved librarian, and Riley had to stifle a laugh at the thought. Cindy grinned and nudged Riley’s leg to keep her quiet.
“My name is Sara Parrish. I am here because my sister, Tia, killed the rest of my family and tried to kill me.”
“If you believe that, I’ve got a bridge to sell you,” Cindy whispered in Riley’s ear.
Riley’s skin prickled and she rubbed her hands up and down her arms. She had heard the same sentiment before, but not about Sara – she had heard it from people in her hometown and people on television, people online and people in person, about her own story.
Everyone assumed she was in on her family’s murders.
She knew what it was like not to be believed, and it made her feel something more charitable than annoyance at the younger woman.
“We appreciate you being here, Sara. Veronica Shine?”
“I’m Veronica. I was supposed to be poisoned.”
Nick nodded at her, then glanced at the next woman on the list. “Jolie Court?”
“Jolie Court. A serial rapist and murderer broke into my school over a holiday.”
With each confession of pain, Nick’s shiny veneer faded. His brow creased, his eyes darkened, and his fist clenched around the microphone in his hand. Riley looked down at her hands rather than stare at him and watch his transformation from nice guy to scary.
“Cindy Jordan?”
“I was in school, like Jolie was, when it happened. A man with a gun came on campus, and I only survived because I wasn’t in my sorority house. Sometimes being a bad girl is a good thing.”
Someone in the audience whooped and Nick gave that direction a dirty look.
Riley’s throat clenched again. This was it. This was her moment to speak, to tell the truth of that terrible night thirteen years before, the night that had destroyed the life she had known and loved.
She swallowed, cleared her throat, and leaned forward in anticipation.
“Last but not least, Riley David. Riley, why are you here?” he asked, his voice quiet and low in his throat.
She stared across the table at him behind the lectern. She didn’t make eye contact with the audience or stare past him. Her eyes were on his.
“My boyfriend killed my family. I was the only survivor.”
Nick nodded, then as he turned, Riley watched his face smooth out into his television host smile.
“Please, give a round of applause for the brave women on stage today. They are the reason we’re here. The amazing Final Girls!”
CHAPTER
6
As soon as the panel was over, Riley jumped out of her seat, ran backstage, and found the nearest trash can to empty her breakfast into with gusto. Then she grabbed a bottle of water from the table beside the stage entrance and chugged half of it down. It landed on her empty stomach with a soothing gush.
She wanted a shower, but the next panel was only ten minutes away, so drowning her pain in water would have to do.
A hand dropped on her shoulder, but instead of crying out, Riley swung around and splashed the rest of the water into the face of her attacker. Cindy recoiled with a squeal. Riley grabbed her before she fell, apologizing in something like a trance, until Cindy righted herself and started laughing.
“That’s a neat trick,” Cindy said. She pulled an old-fashioned, white cloth handkerchief out of her pink, cross-body purse and dabbed at her face. Amazingly to Riley, none of her makeup smeared. “I’ve gotta try that next time some geek tries to cop a feel.”
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to do that,” Riley said. She felt like a jumpy fool.
Cindy waved away her apology and jerked her head to get Riley to follow her further behind the stage. “Don’t apologize. That was badass. I should have known better than to come up on you from behind, but I swore I was as loud as I could be without crashing toward you like a herd of elephants.”
She stopped at a door Riley hadn’t noticed before. “You did good out there. Need a break?”
“I do,” Riley said.
Cindy nodded, then pushed open the door and waved for Riley to follow her. Inside the room, the male server from their dinner sat hunched over on a metal folding chair. He struck a match and Riley recoiled.
“You don’t have to worry about him. He’s a pussycat,” Cindy said.
The server turned around and Riley could see he had a joint in his mouth. He puffed on it again, then handed it to Cindy without standing. She took a long drag, then handed it to Riley. Riley stared at it a moment. She had tried it a couple of times when she was a normal teenager, and though she had never had a bad time, she hadn’t gotten much out of it but sleepy.
Then the pulsing, many-faced audience came into her mind, and her hand moved to her mouth unbidden. She pulled in a short drag, hacked out a cough, and stumbled into a nearby chair while Cindy and the server grinned at her.
“This’ll take the edge off,” Cindy said as she took the joint back from the server. “This is Mark. Mark, meet Miss Riley David.” He held out an unsuspecting hand, but Cindy slapped it away. “Don’t touch.”
He mumbled an apology as Riley took the joint from Cindy again. As much as she liked to be sharp, she didn’t want to bail out on the second panel, because it would be the hardest. It was the reason she was here.
“Come on, sugar,” Cindy said. She reached out and helped Riley to her feet. “You doing any better?”
“I’m okay,” Riley answered. “I’m okay.” She wasn’t off-balance, which was good, but her head felt foggy. “I’m okay. When will this wear off?”
“Pretty quick. Don’t worry about it,” Cindy answered. She led Riley by the hand back out the door, then into another room that Riley only realized was a bathroom when she caught her startled reflection in the big mirror. “Hold your breath and close your eyes.”
Riley did as she was told, and Cindy sprayed her down with a strange-smelling canister stashed in her purse. She sprayed herself down, too, then went to the mirror to check her makeup.
Riley watched as she rubbed on a litt
le more lipstick, checked her teeth, and readjusted her shirt to show even more cleavage. Riley couldn’t help it: she stared as Cindy pushed and tucked until she was almost all the way on display.
Cindy cleared her throat suggestively, and Riley met her eyes. Cindy grinned. Riley looked at her running shoes with her face burning.
“I’m sorry.”
Cindy chuckled. “Don’t be. What better compliment than catching a pretty girl staring at your rack?” She waltzed across the room, grabbed Riley by the arm, and led her back out behind the stage. Before Riley knew it, they were at the curtain again. “Let me take a look at you.”
Riley allowed herself to be turned around in a circle, let Cindy tug at her shirt and tuck at her hair, then didn’t pull away when Cindy leaned forward until the sides of their faces were almost touching.
“If you’re interested, we have a long break coming up after this,” Cindy whispered into her ear, then flicked her earlobe with her warm tongue. Riley shivered and Cindy leaned back with a toothy grin. “Come on, beautiful. It’s almost showtime and they’re calling our names.”
They settled back in as Nick was starting another round of introductions. This time he didn’t ask them to tell their stories but introduced them by name and kept going. Cindy turned all her attention to Nick when she wasn’t flirting with the audience and Riley had to suppress a surge of jealousy.
They were halfway through the panel and Riley had just started to relax into the feeling of the fading high when the lights around them went out.
Total darkness.
CHAPTER
7
June 2, 2004
I’m drowning!
I can’t breathe. I’m trying to suck in air, trying to get past the gushing heat in my throat, but it keeps coming, and I’m drowning.
I reach out for the cute guy I’ve been seeing, the one on the basketball team with the long hair and the crooked smile, but he’s walking away while I’m drowning.
This is it. This is when I die.
He’s got a knife in his hand. Did he take it from the bad guy? Did he take it away…? Did he kill him?
Is he going for help?
I’m screaming! Why is he leaving? Can’t he hear me?
I’m dying. We’re all dying.
Why is this happening? What did we do?
It’s so dark. Everything is going dark, and I’m drowning, and what did I do to deserve this?
I deserve this...
CHAPTER
8
August 17, 2017
The lights came back on sometime later – seconds, minutes, or hours, Riley wasn’t sure, her head swam - but the room was still dim. Riley groped beside her for Cindy’s now-familiar, comforting form and found Cindy’s seat empty. She dropped out of her chair, onto her knees, and scrambled around under the table, hoping Cindy had decided to shelter in place.
Nothing.
When she came back up, she glanced around, and her eyes landed on Nick. He climbed on top of a chair, whistled with his fingers, and everyone in the room went quiet.
“Okay, folks, it looks like we’ve had a little bit of a power interruption.”
“No shit!” one of the audience members said, and there was a ripple of nervous, appreciative laughter through the room.
“Until we can find out what happened, I think it’s best that everyone stays seated to minimize any chance of injury.” He looked down at his phone as it lit up. “As soon as I get some information, we can make a game plan. Thank you all for your cooperation.” He got down off the chair and walked straight toward her.
Riley stayed standing, hand on her silenced phone, and watched him approach.
“I’m sorry about this,” Nick said when he reached her, then turned to the remaining two women standing at the table beside her. He counted them quietly, then counted them again. “Veronica, Jolie, Riley… I’m down three Final Girls. Where did the others go?”
“I have no idea,” Riley said, her voice lifting into the squeak that had been so annoying to her for her whole life. Anytime she got scared, she sounded like a wimpy seven-year-old.
Veronica stepped up beside them. “Someone will have to tell me what happened, because I don’t know,” she said, her words slurring barely enough to be noticeable.
“I know where they went,” Jolie said. She had moved to the curtain and had one hand pointed at it. “As soon as the lights went out, everyone started moving around. My best guess is they freaked out and ran for it. This isn’t the most stable bunch.”
Nick held up his phone and read something on the screen. “Okay, it looks like that storm they said wasn’t coming this way turned around and is headed right for us. What we’ve got out there is some powerful wind.”
“We need to leave,” Riley said. She tried to step past Nick, but he grabbed her arm and held her in place. “Let go of me.”
“Don’t panic, Riley,” he said. His eyes landed on his hand on her arm and he released her as if burned. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to lose anyone else. If we panic, we can’t work together to figure out what to do.” He smiled. “Can you help me with that, Riley?”
Riley shivered and pulled away. “Yes. I won’t panic,” she said, her voice weak. “What do we do?”
“First thing I need to do is find the hotel rep. The audience and we are pretty much the only ones here besides a few employees, but this guy – Evan, I think his name is – is supposed to be able to help us with anything we need.”
Jolie sighed. “Let me guess. You leave us alone with this audience of adult boys who love to read about murder. Is that about right?” She moved closer to Riley and Veronica. “Then we have to fight our way out in one of those Ultimate Battles. Is this a setup, Mr. Serling?”
“No,” Nick said. “Why would you think that?”
He glanced from her, to Veronica, and to Riley. His eyes lingered on Riley a beat longer than the others, then he turned back to Jolie. “I don’t want to leave with you three, because that leaves the other three alone. But you’re right. I can’t leave you without making you vulnerable to the less savory characters here.”
He looked around the room as if searching for an answer.
“Why don’t you call the hotel rep?” Riley suggested through the fog in her brain. “Don’t you have his number?”
“I only have the number to the hotel,” Nick said, then picked up his phone and dialed. “I’ll give the front desk a call. If we have any luck –” He stopped in the middle of his sentence.
“Is this Evan? Great!” He held up a finger to the three women and turned around with a hand clapped over one ear. “Listen, I have a lot of spooked people in here, and I’m wondering what the plan is.”
Veronica grumbled a laugh that was halfway between excited and terrified and all the way intoxicated. “We survived when we weren’t supposed to. This is the universe putting to right what should have been.”
“Shut up,” Jolie said.
Riley listened alternately to Veronica and Jolie bickering and Nick’s one-sided phone conversation until he got off the phone and turned to them. The two women stopped talking when he did, and Veronica’s easy smile slipped off.
“Nick, what did Evan say?” Riley asked him. “You have to tell us so we can make a plan.”
Nick’s face was bloodless under his light brown skin. “Ah, he said downtown traffic is gridlocked.”
“That’s what was supposed to happen,” Veronica said, her voice low. “We’re stuck here.”
Nick gave her an incredulous look. “We aren’t stuck here,” he said. “The hotel is asking that anyone who has a car in the parking lot evacuate first to make room for the shuttles the hotel provides. Did any of you drive?”
“I don’t drive. Traffic gives me a headache,” Jolie said.
“I flew here. I didn’t trust all the stops I would have to make,” Riley said.
Veronica nodded. “I did the same thing. Surprised the plane didn’t go down.”
N
ick gawked at her, then looked at Riley and Jolie. “What is that about?”
“She’s got a survivor guilt complex,” Jolie said. “Typical. I wonder if any of the others drove here.”
“I didn’t,” Nick said, and rubbed the hand holding his phone across his forehead. “I had a book signing in Massachusetts yesterday and knew I wouldn’t make it in my car in time.”
“Everyone is dead,” Veronica said, and a giggle slipped from behind the hand across her mouth. “We are all fucking dead.”
“Shut your mouth, or I’m going to shut it for you,” Jolie said. She threatened Veronica with one fist, then dropped it back down and turned to Nick. “Better tell your murder boys they can leave if they drove.”
Nick nodded. “Good idea. Maybe you three can go behind the curtain and wait for me? Then we can figure out what our plan is.”
Riley complied without waiting for anyone else. Without the comforting presence of Cindy beside her, she felt adrift. Jolie followed and Veronica slumped in the rear. Riley didn’t know what else to do, so she led the two of them back into the room Cindy had brought her to earlier. It still smelled like smoke, but no one was inside.
“Whoa, party much?” Jolie asked her, and Riley blushed.
“Nerves,” she said.
Jolie smiled and pushed Veronica into a chair. “Sit down, screwball. I don’t want you drawing any attention to us.”
“You believe me. I know you do,” Veronica said. Her eyes as she gazed up at Jolie were bloodshot and watery.
“No one believes you. You’re paranoid because you do too many drugs.” She nudged Riley to take a seat, but Riley remained standing by the door, so she sat down wearily. “No one is trying to kill anybody. This is a storm. We’ve all lived through worse.”
“And that’s the point, isn’t it? We didn’t survive without consequences,” Veronica said.
Jolie popped up from her chair, strode across the few feet that separated them, and pointed a finger in Veronica’s face. “Shut up with your Final Destination bullshit, all right? Death is not after us. We are not going to die. No one is going to die.”