Gemma Halliday - Scandal Sheet aka Hollywood Scandals

I bolted upright. Considering she was between me and the exit now, the only choice I had was to run deeper into the ride. Which I did, dodging the displays of little arms swinging, bodies twirling, tiny animals riding bicycles, heading full bore toward the next room.

I made it just as I heard the sound of Lani’s feet pounding after me. I ducked behind a display of mermaids floating in the South Seas.

“I know you’re in here, Bender. You can’t hide forever!” Lani threatened, toppling over a display of fish.

I gingerly felt the wall behind me for any sign of an exit behind the curtains in this room. Unfortunately, none.

Even more unfortunately, I tripped over a coral reef, alerting Lani to my location.

“Aha. I’ve got you,” she shouted, jumping out from behind a conch shell.

Only this time I was ready for her. I grabbed a piece of plastic seaweed and swung at her head, smacking her right in the temple.

“Uhn.” She went down, tumbling backward and knocking into a hula girl. I didn’t wait to see if she got up, bolting for the next room.

I flew past North America, charging right into the children of the world room, cursing that song with every step. I was going to have to scrub my brain with bleach to ever get it out.

Assuming I survived.

I rounded the corner, and the end was finally in sight. I could see daylight at the end of the very long (how freaking long was this ride anyway?) tunnel. I pumped my legs for all I was worth, not even caring how many little people I knocked over on my dash for freedom.

One that was cut short when I heard the crack of a gunshot behind me.

“Make another move and you’re a dead woman!”

I saw the gunshot hit the little dancing cowboy next to me right between the eyes. I liked my forehead hole free. So, I froze.

In a second, Lani was beside me, pressing the gun to my rib cage again.

“God, you’re fast.”

“Thanks,” I mumbled. “Hey, how did you even get a gun in here? They check at security.”

Lani laughed at me again, the same tinkling thing she did every week in the fake hallways of her fake high school with her fake best friend. I’m on Pippi Mississippi . I’m a star. You think anyone’s gonna frisk me?

Suddenly I really, really hated that show.

Now, time to take your final bow, Bender, she said, and I heard the gun cock at my side.

I closed my eyes, sucked in a breath. Thought of Aunt Sue and wondered who was going to remind her to turn off the oven? To wear a scarf in the winter? To tip the pizza delivery boy when she burned dinner every night?

And, oddly enough, I thought of Cal. How pissed he was going to be when he found my dead body. I didn’t want Cal’s last thoughts about me to be pissed ones.

I felt a tiny tear gather in the corner of my eye, slipping down my cheek as the gun pressed painfully into my ribs. I waited for that last loud bang to go off.

Only instead I heard the sound of motors whirling, gears turning. I looked down. The boats were starting to move in the moat again. The ride was back on.

Shit, Lani mumbled, her gaze following mine as a boat full of tourists eased into the room.

Quickly she herded me behind a display tower, fumbling in the curtain until she found an exit door. She pushed it open, shoving me out in front of her.

The sudden onslaught of sunlight blinded me. I blinked, trying to make my eyes adjust, as Lani propelled me forward, gun still pressing into my ribs.

Don’t try anything funny, she said. And I wondered what cheesy movie she’d gotten that line from. Only I knew better than to ask. She was one small step from the edge, and I didn’t want to be the first person she pulled over with her. Instead, I scanned the crowds suddenly at our sides for help.

We were threading our way around the front of the Small World building, past the Matterhorn, into the thick of the Fantasyland crowd. Hundreds of people bounced against us on either side. Surely someone would notice the girl being held hostage with the gun.

Or not.

Have you ever noticed how self-contained most people are? Every single person in that place had blinders on, focused on making the most of their vacations, oblivious to the people around them. I sent pleading looks to the young families standing in line at the Tea Cups. I mouthed help me to the goth kids waiting for the Dumbo ride. I shot alarmed, eyebrows drawn together, desperate tilting of my head toward the chick with the gun looks to the older couple holding hands by the carousel.

Nada.

I hated people.

There, Lani finally said behind me.

I looked up to where she was pointing. Sleeping Beauty’s castle.

We can have some privacy there, she said, pushing me forward.

I bit my lip, seeing my chance at freedom growing smaller and smaller the closer we got to the castle. Luckily, the square was jam-packed with bodies, and it was slow going. The daily show of King Arthur pulling the sword from the stone was going on in front of the carousel, a guy in a Merlin costume directing a ten-year-old kid and his dad to step up to the stone and try their luck.

A stroller knocked into me, a kid with a lollipop got pink goo on my leg, and a guy with nacho breath bumped into me and burped in my face. But no one saw the chick with the gun, shoving me just feet from certain death.

Well, almost no one.

That’s her! someone shouted.

Instinctively, I spun around, expecting to see one of Lani’s fans pointing her out. Instead, I spied a bony little old lady in a pink tracksuit hanging off a lamppost, pointing toward me.

Aunt Sue.

I could have cried, I was so happy to see her. In fact, I’m not entirely sure my eyes didn’t leak a little.

Now what? Lani hissed. Then she shoved me forward, knocking into a toddler who fell on his diapered butt and began to cry.

Stop! Aunt Sue shouted. Stop that girl! She’s a murderer! She has my niece hostage!

Unfortunately, already being in a state of Disney-altered reality, the crowd thought Aunt Sue was just part of the show. They all turned toward me, expectant smiles on their faces, waiting to see what the murderer and the hostage did next.

Go! Lani urged. Ignore them!

What choice did I have? I went.

Unhand my niece! This time it was Aunt Millie’s voice. Or face the consequences.

Oh yeah? Lani asked, spinning us both around to face her, showing the crowd her gun. And what would those be, old lady?

Aunt Millie jumped (with surprising agility for a senior citizen) up to the Merlin platform. She pushed the kid out of the way, grabbed King Arthur’s sword with both hands, and pulled it from the stone with a loud grunt.

The crowd cheered.

Lani laughed that annoying faux-teen giggle again. And just what do you expect to do with that? She leveled the gun at Aunt Millie.

The crow did the appropriate scared Oooooing.

I would have rolled my eyes at the ridiculousness of the situation had the gun not been real and the person holding it not really insane.

Aunt Millie! I warned.

Too late.

The gun went off, a crack shattering through the air. I held my breath, expecting Millie to fall, an ugly red stain through her midsection. Instead, she twisted the sword, the bullet pinging off the flashing steel.

The crowd roared with approval.

Lani look stunned.

Millie look stunned.

I felt faint.

En garde! Millie shouted, jumping down from her perch, her bony ankles showing between her balled socks and her powder blue slacks.

Lani, like the rest of the crowd, was momentarily stunned by the sight, and that was all that Millie needed, swiftly bringing the sword down on the hand holding the gun. Lani’s weapon clattered to the ground, and the tip of Millie’s sword went to the girl’s throat, the point making an uncomfortable indentation as Lani swallowed in fear.