Modelland (43 page)

“Is like a warning to the rest of us,” Shiraz said morosely.

“Sickening.” Piper turned away from the distressing art. “I wonder how long it will be on the wall.”

Dylan looked up and down the barrier. “I wonder how many others have jumped and if the change hurts.”

“How are we going to get out of here now?” Tookie whispered to herself.

Suddenly, four tones sounded, and the outline of Guru Gunnero’s face appeared as a hologram. “This is a recorded announcement from Modelland security,” Gunnero’s face said. “Attention, all
new Bellas: report to the M building immediately. Enter through the north ZipZap.”

Tookie and her friends froze and exchanged worried glances.
The M building
. Where she’d heard they were all going to be experimented on and sacrificed.
Why of all places are we being summoned
there?

Whatever it was, Tookie knew it wouldn’t be good.

Two columns of expressionless Mannecants guided the Bellas through the M building’s doors and past a guard station heavily manned by Modelland security. Tookie looked at the hulking brutes standing guard and wondered how she had managed to sneak past them the day before. The whole ordeal was just a blur now.

Gunnero met the anxious girls in an annex and led them down the glass hallways of the M building. Mirrored doors opened into a cramped rectangular meeting room. The walls were made of alternating slats of mirrors and patterned glass. At the front and back of the room were items Tookie remembered from her last visit: long tables holding all kinds of optical devices from jeweler’s loupes to microscopes, monocles to viewfinders, magnifying glasses to antique eyeglasses to prisms.

Her eyes settled on the wall in front of her. All kinds of shapes drifted past. One section of glass looked like a rooster crowing. Another section looked like a harp. Another looked like an eye. But then one eye became two. Slowly, the eyes opened slightly into slits. They looked just like the eyes of the BellaDonna statue. And they seemed to be looking directly at Tookie.

The slatted wall in the front of the room opened. Persimmon entered and walked to the podium. A hush fell over the crowd.

Persimmon began her usual speech. “May I present to you the most beloved of the beloved, the chicest of the chic, the definer of all things beautiful, and the esteemed leader of all Bellas lucky to be led …”

There was a loud sigh. Tookie glanced over and saw Guru Gunnero standing in the corner, his arms crossed over his chest. As Persimmon said the words, he moved his lips silently, mocking Persimmon, or perhaps the BellaDonna. Tookie wasn’t sure.

“I present to you the BellaDonna of Modelland,” Persimmon finished.

The eyes in the wall protruded until they were three-dimensional. They blinked once, then twice. But instead of being full of rage, these BellaDonna eyes were downturned and filled with tears.

Then the eyes grew lips for top and bottom eyelids and began to sing in a quavering but mellifluous voice:

“Sing with me!” the BellaDonna shouted. She launched into the chorus again.

Girls began to sing in uncertain voices. “Louder!” the BellaDonna screeched. Everyone belted out the lyrics. They sang through the chorus six more times, their voices rising with each line. Gunnero rolled his eyes and kept his lips firmly shut.

The BellaDonna abruptly stopped singing and cleared her throat. Rustling could be heard throughout the room. And then she spoke.

“My heart, which you probably believe to be a bottomless pit, bleeds torrents for the loss of one of our own,” she said solemnly. “Be damned, the shortsightedness of her lost soul, the young Bella’s sanity wrapped up in the meager charms of some civilian boy down the mountain. I hope it’s a nightmare that has haunted all of your dreams so you do not make the same imbecilic mistake.”

Suddenly, the room went dark. Nervous murmurs rippled through the crowd.

Dylan shrieked. “Someone’s breathin’ in my ear!”

Tookie felt Dylan collapse on her shoulder. She nudged her and Dylan came to. Then Tookie felt someone else’s breath in her ear. “Who
is
that?” she cried.

Simultaneously, girls all around the room were calling out in the same panic. It seemed like phantom breaths were everywhere. And then the familiar voice returned.

“Leaving for a man! Leaving for a man! Leaving for a MAN?” the BellaDonna whined. The room trembled.

The next time the BellaDonna spoke, she sounded like she was poised on the ceiling. “Desperation,” her voice continued, “clouds your minds, robs you of clear thoughts, makes you think that a man is the answer. He. Is. Not. In the civilian world, women are more valued for giving birth to babies than for giving birth to their dreams. Not here. Not now. Not ever.

“In the civilian world, it is acceptable for a woman to settle, to subvert, to dilute and diminish her dreams if it’s to help, or to be with, a man. That’s somehow noble. Not here. Not now. Not ever.”

“But Madame BellaDonna.” Even in the darkness, the voice was instantly recognizable. Zarpessa’s voice continued. “I don’t think it’s wrong to live for a man. Their intelligence is far greater than ours, and it is our duty to submit and love and—”

“How dare you speak when I am speaking, and such nonsense on top of that!” the BellaDonna roared. “Where on earth did you manage to come up with that rubbish? So you would derail your life to be with a man, you would risk your
face
, your Modelland Intoxibella future, for that nonsense you call … love?”

The room fell silent for a moment. Then, startlingly, small halting breaths rang through the darkness. Was the most beloved of the beloved … 
crying
?

“Love,” the BellaDonna repeated, “is an excuse to be stupid. When we come to Modelland, we say goodbye to love. We commit to succeeding at any cost. We relinquish our ties to our families, our friends. We sacrifice our souls to be one of the 7Seven. There is no, has never been, and never will be room for love at Modelland.
Ever
.”

Is it really a mandate that we give those things up?
Tookie thought. It seemed so … cold. Heartless.
What kind of place is this?

“But what about my family?” a girl’s voice rang out.

“What about my best friend, Gingi?” another voice asked.

“What about my momma, my sisters, my brothers?” sobbed Dylan.

“Papa,” sniffed Shiraz.

Tookie thought of the only person she’d left behind whom she dearly, truly loved. “Lizzie,” she whispered.

And then Tookie heard the sound of loud sobs from someone she didn’t believe had the capacity to shed tears: Zarpessa. The BellaDonna’s banishment of love had shaken even her.

Tookie reached out in the darkness and felt for her friends’ hands.

“Tookie,” Shiraz hissed next to her. “I able to see.”

“What?” Tookie asked, startled. It was so black in here Tookie couldn’t see her hand in front of her face.

“Because of low light in Canne Del Abra. I almost seeing the BellaDonna!”

Suddenly, Shiraz cried out. There was a loud
thump
. “You will not see what you are not supposed to see, little runner girl!” the BellaDonna’s voice resonated. Her voice was so close and loud, Tookie clapped her hands over her ears. The BellaDonna was right
next
to them! “Keep your eyes shut tight from now on, you hear me?”

“Y-yes,” Shiraz whimpered.

Then the BellaDonna leaned in closer to Shiraz. So close that Tookie could hear her inhaling and exhaling. Her breath smelled sour, a little like Mr. De La Crème’s after he’d drank his weight in TaterMash. “You think you can run away, elfin girl?” the BellaDonna whispered in Shiraz’s ear. “With those stunted legs of yours?”

Shiraz sucked in her breath. Tookie could feel the BellaDonna moving to Dylan next. “You’re full of attitude, fleshy one, but not even
your
sass can save you.”

Dylan gasped.

“A mind like yours is a terrible thing to waste,” the BellaDonna said into Piper’s ear next. “I’ll make sure she sautées it and eats every last drop.”

All the Unicas made tiny whimpers.
Ci~L is coming for them any minute
, Tookie thought.
This is the BellaDonna’s warning!

Finally, the BellaDonna sidled over to Tookie. She planted her
feet right in front of Tookie, and even though it was pitch-dark, Tookie could feel the BellaDonna’s eyes on her, glaring, boring into her,
hating
her. Tookie cowered, hunching her shoulders to make herself smaller. She was sure the BellaDonna could hear her heart rocketing in her chest.

Without a sound, the BellaDonna vanished, but her words filled Tookie’s body, weighing her down. Tookie held on to her friends tightly. They had to get out of this place.

Now
.

Back on the mountain, the Pilgrims had crossed into the second level of the barrier. The trek had begun to take a toll on their bodies in more ways than just the many injuries from the mountain’s terrors. Dark circles surrounded their eyes. Clumps of dirt clung to their hair, and their ashy skin was covered in bug-bite welts the size of silver dollars. They’d all lost quite a bit of weight, their clothes now hanging off their bodies, the bones of their spines jutting out from under their shirts. They walked stiffly, their muscles having broken down long ago. Occasionally, one of them stumbled and fell. It was taking longer and longer for them to stand up again.

Creamy made an announcement to the crowd.

“After the many near tragedies at the hands of our drowsy, irresponsible leader, I am now assuming control of this group.”

Kamata’s head shot up from his crouching position. “Irresponsible? Lady, you do
not
know the Divide like
I
do and—”

“Who is ready for a change?” Creamy shouted, cutting him off.

The entire group tentatively raised their hands.

“Mr. Kamata, you’re outnumbered. So you either march along with us or turn back to Metopia. Your choice,” Creamy declared.

Kamata looked at the ground and sheepishly whispered, “I’ll stay. I wanna see it finally.”

“You’ve never even laid
eyes
on Modelland from the Divide? Not even from a distance?” Jessamine asked, scowling.

“Um, no. This would be a first.”

“I knew you were a friggling phony loser the moment I met your pathetic wannabe-ridge-raiding ass!” Jessamine spat.

“Okay then, packs on and let’s go!” Creamy ordered the group in an authoritative voice, swinging her pack onto her back. Bellissima sat strapped to the top of Creamy’s backpack for the best view of the Divide.

Lynne glanced over her shoulder. “Quick! Let’s hurry up before you-know-who comes back!”

But it was too late. Hunchy’s arms suddenly split open the bush. He stepped through, wiping his mouth of what appeared to be blood. Lynne shuddered.

The group continued their climb up the steep slope that would lead them to Modelland. Zone two was nothing like zone one. The air smelled of rotten eggs. And as they walked across the charred landscape, they came upon evidence of past Pilgrims: an
old white sneaker, bitten in half. What looked like human bones, some eaten away by time, others relatively fresh. A leather jacket that seemed full. No one dared to check if there was a body inside.

“What in friggling hell happened here?” Jessamine yelled.

“They’re dead,” Myrracle replied innocently. Oblivious to the danger around her, she was still prancing as she walked. “They can’t hear you.”

“I know that, you dumb whirling-dervish dancing fool!” Jessamine’s eyes blazed. “I don’t think I’ve ever met such an idiotic dimwit as you in my entire fourteen years!”

Myrracle just shrugged, but Creamy stiffened. She shot Jessamine a dagger-sharp expression, then spun away toward Kamata. They began to speak quietly, out of earshot of the rest of the group.

After a moment, Kamata cleared his throat. “Listen, everybody … if I may, Mrs. De La Crème …,” Kamata said sheepishly.

“I prefer
Mizz
De La Crème,” Creamy said. “Sounds so much fresher.”

Kamata nodded. “From what I remember, there’s a watering hole not far from here. Fresh water. Good for drinking and bathing. I know we could all use some sips and some suds?”

Everyone in the group cheered their approval. Kamata led the group down an embankment, past claw marks around a burned-out campfire, soiled Pilgrim socks and underwear, and a human jawbone. Finally, they arrived at a pristine lake.

The group let out a collective, relieved
ooh
.

“Like my beautiful black-bottomed pool at the home where I used to live with my husband before
she
 …” Lynne’s voice cracked, and she fought back tears. She then removed her clothes and stayed in the shallow part of the pond near its edges, her
injured hand held high. Hunchy paced, excitedly or perhaps nervously, around the edge, as if he had never seen water.