today."
She swung at its knee, and it fell on its side.
"Well, that's disappointing." She kicked at its side, and it crawled toward her. She sighed in disappointment. "Weak," she said. "Hey look guys, left handed!" She slammed the end of the bat down into the skull, cracking it open with a sick splat.
"So... is that it?"
FENNEC NEWS
“The critics have not persuaded Last Chance Records to change their mind about this band, which I consider to just be a travesty, a tragedy waiting to happen! These girls are bound to fail, and once they do, who's going to sign up for the military then? If they truly thought this would solve their problems, well, I just can't imagine a person like that. I can't explain it.”
“But the band is moving forward?”
“Yes, as I understand it, the girls have been chosen. May they be forgiven. I can't imagine they realize the damage they're going to do.”
“Absolutely, John, absolutely. So now that the tryouts are over, what do you believe we can expect to see next?”
“Hellfire.”
Chapter Four
WILLA
Half way through explaining her plan she realized she was assigning herself to the dreadful task. Forming a girl band as part of a rebranding effort to convince teens to sign up for the military on their own was just not something she could trust to anyone else.
Before the dead started walking around, before the wall, she'd been on her way to becoming a popstar herself. Since the wall, she'd been one of the pioneers to bring order and commerce back to this undead polluted world. No one knew how to direct teen decision making—or the power in it—like she did. She'd spent the past thirty years making sure that anyone who could possibly fill that position found themselves desperately needed elsewhere. This was her world. And now, because of how she'd dominated the field, there was no one else qualified to lead such an endeavor. Honestly, if they had suggested someone else, she would have been so offended she'd have had to enact vengeance on the doubter. But that did not mean she wanted to do it. It had been a long time since she had to actually speak to a teenager; that was one of the benefits of being at the top: no conversation with little people.
And now she had five needy, sloppy, self-entitled teenage people she had to turn into the perfect propaganda. And it was her own damned fault. It wasn't the first time she'd wished to shirk the responsibilities of being so intelligent, but what was she to do?
Her peers—if that's what you could call that room of dull drones—thought it was a big joke. Oh there goes Willa, thinks she's going to save the world with pop music . And yet they'd given up on coming up with any other plan, and everything else they'd tried before had failed. They expected she'd come through, and then it would just be another silly thing she did. If she did fail, by magically becoming someone with the capacity for such an event, they'd act like they knew it all along.
She would go ahead and sufficiently ruin their careers to secure some new colleagues, but they'd be just as bad, if not worse. It would be great, in theory, to do everything yourself, but in reality you just had to shove off tasks you didn't absolutely have to do yourself, and hope nothing too important was destroyed. Time was precious, especially when you were trying to run the whole freaking world.
The world at large was easier to run than the lives of five teenagers. That was for sure.
The girls were meeting just then. Willa thought giving them five minutes to size each other up was better than wasting five of her own minutes where they'd be too busy staring at each other to listen to her. Five minutes was all she was willing to risk, though. How much damage could they do to each other in five minutes?
Her shoes clacked a faster beat down the hall.
CARRIE
Carrie was now part of a band . Somehow, throughout reading the ad, the applications, and the
Richard Ellis Preston Jr.