Amy Brashear - The Incredible True Story of the Making of the Eve of Destruction

It was warm in there. Heaters with an S , plural. Those people from Cali (which they certainly did not call it and would roll their eyes if you did) could not handle the cold.

“I’m here to get my death look,” she said. “Apparently, radiation has ravaged my body, eyes swollen, blood coming out of my nose. I’m going to look so pretty.”

“Of course you will,” said Kitty.

“You always do,” added Raymond.

Kitty and Raymond looked at each other. You could cut the sarcasm with a knife.

“Aren’t you both so sweet,” Astrid said, smiling.

Kitty worked on my lips while Raymond was burning pieces of fabric for Astrid’s costume. Yes, her character did get fire-blasted before.

“I’ve been in a firefight,” Astrid said.

“And you lose,” I said.

She laughed. “And I get paid for it.”

“Well, when you go, I’ll miss you,” I said.

“Will you, now?” she said, more of a statement rather than a question.

“Yeah, that’s why I said it.”

“I’ll be out of your hair soon enough.”

“You’re not going to stick around for the end-of-filming party?”

“It’s called a wrap party,” she said.

“Oh—”

“Besides, I’m up for the next John Hughes film. I’m playing the character named Sloane.”

“Cool,” I said.

“It is cool. I’m going to have to fall in love with the boy who almost nuked Seattle.”

“That won’t be hard,” I said.

“Yeah, you don’t exactly understand acting, but I get your point. He’s cute,” she said, smiling.

Kitty fixed the flyaways with a bit of hair spray and retouched my lipstick while Raymond helped me with my coat. The zipper got stuck on a snag. The coat was at least two sizes too big, but they assured me this was how all the actresses wore them.

“Are you all going to be alone up there without hair and makeup?” Astrid said, so distraught I thought she was going to cry for us.

“No, we’re coming,” said Kitty.

She shook her head. “I want to see what Skeet has in store. You know, the big bang.”

I grabbed my Nuke Me tote bag, and out the door I went. I stood off to the side, waiting for the yellow school bus with Astrid, who was just getting in the way.

“You should be studying your line,” she said.

I didn’t want to overdo it with mine. It was like over-studying for a test. And anyway, I was just there to look pretty, as Astrid would have said.

Terrence was with Freddy in his trailer, probably playing video games. Owen was walking toward me. I haven’t had much contact with him since filming began. And now we have to act together. I didn’t know what I would say. Hey? Hello? Or just hi? But he walked right by me. Didn’t say anything, like I wasn’t even standing there.

“Owen, stop!” Tyson yelled as he ran right into him.

“I’m sorry,” Owen said. “They dilated my eyes. I can’t see a damn thing.”

“Why didn’t they wait until you got where you are going?” Astrid asked.

“Your guess is as good as mine.”

I walked over to Owen, who was leaning up against a chain-link fence and staring down at the ground.

“I was going to say who goes there, but I smell your perfume,” he said.

“I’m not wearing any,” I said.

“Oh, Laura, I thought it was Astrid,” he said.

“Seriously,” Astrid said. “I’m offended by that.”

“Wait—you’re offended by that? I should be.”

Astrid laughed.

“I’m sorry, Laura,” Owen said.

“It’s my own fault,” Astrid said. “I sprayed a little of Opium by Yves Saint Laurent on her.”

“Did I smell?” I asked.

“No, of course not,” she said. “I was being nice.” She shook her head. “I’ll try better next time.”

“Okay,” I said slowly.

The school bus drove up, and the bus driver opened the door, and Tyson was the first on. Owen was blindly going along. I ran up to him and took his arm.

“Who’s there?” he asked, but didn’t give me a chance to answer. “Doesn’t matter. I can do it myself.”

“But—” I said.

“I can do it myself.”

“You can do it yourself,” I repeated.

I followed him on and took a seat three rows behind him.

The director and Dylan came walking up the steps of the bus. The director looked at Tyson. “I have an important job for you. You will communicate with this with Skeet down on Main Street.” He handed him a walkie-talkie.

The director and Dylan sat behind the bus driver. Tyson found his seat opposite them. All we were waiting on were Freddy and Terrence.

“All here?” Tyson asked. “Nope, missing two.”

“Here, we’re here,” said Freddy, breathing heavy, as was Terrence. Coach Flynn would be so proud. The first game of the season was soon. “Starting point guard out of breath equaled out of shape” didn’t sound too good, did it?

“Ready?” the bus driver asked.

“We’re ready,” Tyson said.

“Let’s get going,” Owen said. “The faster we get this over with, the faster I can see.”

“Why didn’t you wait until we got to the mountain?” Freddy asked.

“Again, that’s a very good question.”

EXT. MAIN STREET—DAY

Zoom in on brick building covered in posters.

INSERT POSTER—CIVIL DEFENSE TEST IS AT 10 A.M. TODAY; NORMAL ACTIVITIES OF CITY TO SUSPEND FOR ONE HOUR

INT. MARTHA’S HOME—MORNING

HER MOTHER is going through her closet. MARTHA is sitting on her bed playing with the ruffles on her pillow.

HER MOTHER turns to her daughter and smiles.

“Come in, Yellow Bus. Come in, Yellow Bus,” we heard over the walkie-talkie.

“This is Yellow Bus. Come in, Black Van,” Tyson said, holding down the button on his walkie-talkie.

“Hold up; we have to turn around. Kitty forgot a chest we need,” Raymond said over the walkie-talkie.

Tyson leaned across the aisle and told the director, who sighed, rubbed his forehead, and nodded. The director didn’t look like he’d slept a wink.

“Ten-four?”

“Roger that.”

It was only a thirty-minute drive, and traffic wasn’t that bad. Only semis and a few cars with out-of-state tags traveling west. Our caravan was down to just us. One yellow school bus. The director kept looking at his watch. The sun was barely rising behind us. He was worried about the time. By my calculations we had plenty, but I’d only been in the movie business for a few weeks.

The bus driver veered off the interstate and turned right at the stop sign. And up the mountain road we went. I turned my head to look out the window but quickly closed my eyes when the sun blinded me.

When we arrived, Max was waiting with his hands stuck in his pockets near the mountain’s edge.

It took a few maneuvers, but the bus driver finally parked the bus in a way that was easy for us to leave when filming was finished and without it being seen on camera. He opened the door.

“Good luck,” he said.

“I don’t need luck,” Mr. Edman replied.

“All right, then.”

The crew had come and set up the night before. Max and his dad had supervised, while his mom passed out hot chocolate.

“Dad’s sleeping. He’ll be back by the end of the day,” Max said.

“Stay out of the way,” Tyson said, looking at Max.

“Aye, aye, sir,” Max said, saluting him.

Owen was standing next to the bus. I kept looking over at him, but he was staring at the ground.