Dia of the Dead (19 page)

“Whatever,” I sighed and walked away from Reagan and Brendan.

The weight of the day had worn on me. My brain couldn’t take anymore bickering. My muscles ached from overuse and my shoulder was still in pain. Not to mention I was freezing from my soaked clothes thanks to the A/C being on full blast. I just wanted to find my mom and get us both to safety. I was close to finding a spot on the floor to get some rest and try to come up with a plan when Reagan decided she had more feelings she wanted to share. Since she was finished with me, she turned her venom back on Brendan. I didn’t care to hear what either had to say as they shouted back and forth, so I made myself busy with securing the room.

The barricade seemed fine. All of the other secret cabinets that Reagan revealed in her check seemed to be okay as well. I came across a mini fridge behind the wood of the lower half of the display case that doubled as the secret exit. It was stocked with enough food to cause my stomach to growl loudly at the sight.  Most of it had names I couldn’t pronounce with labels that read imported from [insert obscure country here]. I grabbed a jar of what looked like olives. My mouth began to water for whatever was inside.

“Crap.”

I couldn’t get the jar open since I couldn’t hold i
t
an
d
twist the lid at the same time. I needed help. Reagan and Brendan were arguing about the validity of their relationship. I glanced at Kaci. She still seemed lost in her own little world, looking out of the window. I didn’t want to disturb her peace nor did I want to involve myself in the Reagan/Brendan drama. My opinion of them had soure
d,
and if it weren’t for the hordes of zombies outside, I wouldn’t be sharing a room with either of them. I just wanted to check on my mom and not worry myself to death. Since I couldn’t get the jar open, I’d have to wait to eat. My bladder wasn’t as patient.

I remembered the glimpse of the adjacent room with the cream marble floors. It was probably Mr. Bixby’s private bathroom. I needed to make use of it.

“Your dad paid me to take you out!” Brendan yelled at Reagan as I bypassed their argument on the way to the bathroom.

“He wanted to use me to help build buzz for that show you were supposed to star in and wanted us to go on a couple of dates because it would make you more likable. The Wild Child dating the Boy Next Door or something like that. It was better when he pitched it. I went along with it because I owed him for the anger management stuff. I didn’t need my business to be on the blogs more than it already was. When the show didn’t work out, he kind of dropped the whole thing and that’s when I stopped calling this time around.”

I was as stunned by Brendan’s admission as Reagan was. He dropped his head, not looking at her. Reagan’s back was toward me so I could only guess at her reaction. 

“Thanks for telling the truth for once,” she spat.

“I don’t even know why I agreed to it considering how you basically ruined Lola’s career,” Brendan said.

“Oh, boo hoo. Poor Lola.” Reagan mocked. “She was a crap actress and wasn’t that pretty anyway.”

“Why do you have to be this way?”

“What way? A bitch? Huh, Brendan? Is that what you mean? Just because I don’t take a lot of shit, I’m suddenly not a person with feelings? It may take a lot to hurt them but I actually do have feelings like everyone else. And you just stepped all over them. I really appreciate it.” She let out a dry laugh.

“You know what? You’re the first person who has ever told me the truth to my face. People think that just because my father is Phillip Bixby that they have to suck up to me and play nice. I know they’re doing it to score points with my dad. I’m not an idiot. People pretend to be my friend to further their careers. That’s how it’s always been. I’ve never had a real friend in my entire life besides my sister. And guess what? She’s a zombie now. I would rather have people be honest with me than pretend to like me. Then maybe I wouldn’
t
hav
e
to be such a major bitch all of the time. Thanks for being a total Hollywood asshole, Brendan. I thought you were better than that.”

Reagan stomped over to the mini fridge, threw the door open, and grabbed a brassy gold tin with a dark label. She marched over to her father’s desk, flopped down in his chair, and slammed the tin down. She opened it and began to angrily eat what looked like caviar with her hands.

Brendan remained quiet. He went over to the fridge as well, grabbed a couple of jars, found a spot on the rug and began to eat the olives. I didn’t want to be in this room anymore—not with the death glare Reagan shot at Brendan from across the room and the whole awkwardness caused by the admission of the true nature of their relationship. I found solitude in Mr. Bixby’s private bathroom.

The room had the same over-the-top flare as everything else Bixby. The cream-colored surfaces, gold fixtures, soft lighting, and string music playing softly from speakers in the ceiling, made it feel like I was peeing in heaven. I wasn’t expecting to see a Jacuzzi tub or a shower, but they were there. I didn’t expect to see a second fancy toilet with knobs next to the regular toilet but it was there too.

I really didn’t expect to see bags under sad eyes in my reflection in the mirror above the double sinks but they were there with the rest of me, bandaged, bruised, and looking like a drowned rat.

I wiped away a tear and turned from my reflection. I crossed the room and sat on the edge of the tub. My mind wandered to my mom. I wanted nothing more than to hear her voice. I reached into the pocket to get my phone and turned it on. I didn’t have any messages from her. I tried calling again but only got her voicemail. The phone slipped from my hand, landing on the marble floor. I slid down the side tub, collapsing to the ground, and sobbed. I felt hollow. And scared. A knock on the door interrupted my crying. Reagan needed to use the bathroom.

“One minute,” I called back, trying to sound like nothing was wrong. I picked up the phone from the floor and put it back inside the belt’s pocket. My bladder was practically begging me to empty it. I quickly used the restroom, washed my hand, and opened the door for Reagan.

Tensions seemed to have eased in Mr. Bixby’s office. With Reagan gone, Brendan had stretched out on the rug, his hands laced, supporting his head as he stared up at the ceiling, a few empty jars on the floor next to him. Kaci was still in her ball in the corner. She hadn’t said much since we made it up to the office. In fact, she hadn’t said anything at all. Maybe she needed some time to herself. She was probably worried about her mom, dad, and trio of younger sisters. I decided to give her space and went over to the fridge to grab something else to eat and found Brendan had cleared out most of the food in fridge. I grabbed one of the tins of caviar that was left and a bottle of moss colored juice and joined him on the rug.

“Hey,” I said quietly.

He sat up. “Hey.”

We exchanged awkward half-smiles, neither of us sure of what to say. I looked away, glancing at the bathroom door.

I turned back to him. “Was she crying?”

He knitted his brow, looking confused.

“Reagan. She looked like she’d been crying when I passed her on my way out of the bathroom.”

“I think she might have been. She tried getting in touch with her dad again and couldn’t reach him.”

“Oh,” I said quietly. “Maybe he’s somewhere safe.”

He sighed. From the look on his face, it was apparent that he didn’t have high hopes for Mr. Bixby.

I sighed too. I didn’t allow my mind to wander back to my worry about my own mother. I focused my concern on Reagan. “Do you think Reagan’s all right?”

He shrugged. “It’s hard to say with her. She put up her tough facade as soon as you left the room and acted like she didn’t say what she’d just said. I think…I think I really hurt her. And paired with everything else…she’s just as scared as the rest of us.”

“You’re scared?”

“Hell yeah I’m scared. I’d be crazy if I wasn’t. Aren’t you?”

“Terrified,” I admitted.

“That’s why we have to stick together no matter what.”

“Right.” I nodded. “Should I go check on her?”

“Nah, I think we should leave her alone. If she needs us, she’ll let us know.” Brendan trailed off and the room went silent again.

“Sorry for being a jerk earlier,” I said, setting my meal down on the rug between us.

“You shouldn’t be apologizing to me. I should be saying sorry to both you and Reagan.
I
wa
s
being an asshole. I shouldn’t have yelled at you.  It’s just that…” He exhaled and ran his hands through his hair and sighed heavily. “I…don’t do well under pressure. I start yelling and people get upset and it’s just…all bad. My mom used to get on me about my temper… I don’t think she’ll be doing that anymore.”

He didn’t need to say anything else. His eyes said it all.

“I haven’t heard anything from my mom or dad or my brothers. I guess I’m on my own now.” He pulled his legs up toward his torso and rested his arms on them.

“I’m sorry.”

“Have you heard from your mom?” He asked.

I pulled out my phone again, pressing a button and illuminating the screen.  “She called earlier and left a few messages….” Tears began to well in my eyes. I sat the phone on the floor and wiped them away with the back on my hand.

“Dia! You have an incoming call!” 

I blinked away tears and looked at my phone. Mom was calling. I hurried to answer.

“Mom?”

“Dia! My baby! You’re okay?!”

“Mom! Yes! Yes! I’m fine! Where are you?”

“I’m in the security building. I fought my way out of Helena Gardens, ruining a ton of nose and boob jobs in the process but I made it out. I told you Ms. Johansen’s boobs were fake!”

“Mom! Focus! You’re on the lot? Are you safe?”

“Yes and I think so. At least for now. Are you safe?”

“Yes. I’m in Mr. Bixby’s office with Kaci, Reagan, and Brendan. We’re fine.”

“Is it nice up there? Does he have lots of fancy stuff? I bet it’s fancy.”

“Mom,” I said sternly.

“I was just asking. I’m going to stay here until morning. It’s crazy out there. People are eating each other in the streets. Me and Frank almost didn’t make it.”

“Frank’s with you?”

“Of course. The little mutt has been making himself useful by sniffing out danger.”

It was good to hear mom’s voice but knowing Frank was okay put my relief over the top.

“Dia, I can’t stay on the phone long. The battery’s dying and I don’t think I’ll be able to charge it anytime soon. Before I go, I want to let you know that I’ll get to you somehow. I’m not going to leave my baby behind. Meet me in the cafeteria.”

“When?”

“Daybreak.”

“Daybreak? I have no idea when that is?”

“When the sun rises. Nevermind. I forgot you were a teenager. Meet me at eight. Sharp. Oh—“

Frank yelped and growled in the background.

“Sweetie, I gotta go.”

“Mom! Wait! We can’t meet in the cafeteria. It’s too far inside the lot and it’s too dangerous.  We wouldn’t be able to make it out. I’ll meet you at security.”

Going to the security building was equally dangerous but I’d risk it. It was better than having my mother venture into the studio with only Frank to protect her. I had Brendan with his brawn, Reagan with her knowledge of the studio, and Kaci…I had Kaci for moral support. We were a team better suited to meet her.

A growl that didn’t belong to Frank came from the other end of the line.

“Mom?”

The growls became louder and so did Frank’s barking. Mom yelled something that was distorted by the sounds of a scuffle.

“Mom?”

I wasn’t sure if she could hear me but I tried anyway. 

“Mom?!” I shouted. “Mom! I’ll meet you! Don’t leave that spot! I’ll meet you!” I repeated myself until three beeps killed the call.

I gripped the phone like it was responsible for my life. Even with almost no battery power left, I called my mom back. It rang until it went to her voicemail. I tried again with the same result. My mind jumped to the worst conclusion.  She wasn’t going to answer because whatever was growling in the background had gotten to her and…

I dropped the phone; fresh tears began to flow down my cheeks. Brendan offered his shoulder to cry on and I accepted. He wrapped his arms around me as I cried into his smelly, damp t-shirt.

“Aw, how sweet.” Reagan re-entered the room.

I untangled myself from Brendan’s arms and wiped away tears from my blushing cheeks feeling embarrassed.

“Oh, don’t let me stop you two. You sure bounce back quickly, Brendan. Did my dad pay you to hug her like that?” she snarked as she made her way back to her seat at her father’s massive desk.

“You may continue. I’ll just be over here making sure we don’t die during the night.” She settled into the desk’s large leather chair.

“Just pretend I’m not here while you two make out,” she said as she swiveled in the seat.