Read The Girl They Sold to the Moon for Free Online Page B

dead?”
    â€œI’m going to destroy them.”
    â€œWho’s the gawd damned sugar shack queen in this place?”
    â€œI am!”
    Sue Lin pumped both fists in the air, bobbing up and down. “Take no prisoners, only their money! You’re a thief. How hot are you?”
    Tilly found herself heated up and following along. “I’m nuclear hot. I’m a ruthless bitch!”
    â€œThat’s what I want to hear!”
    Pumped up, Tilly felt she could do cartwheels across the wardrobe floor. She realized that Sue Lin intended her to feel that way, which was a good ploy, considering what she faced. What better way to face this prison, this slave-labor camp than to get her head wrapped around something she loved—dance. Dance allowed her to tune out everything and everybody and completely forget where she was.
I can’t survive here unless I ignore this shithole and create my own little selfish world.
    â€œTo the stage lift,” said Sue Lin, and took Tilly’s hand, leading her down the wardrobe floor. They entered a corridor and ended up in a large control room that held large compressors, gears, and high-pressure lines. Several disks that had an Xs on them sat in the middle of the floor. Sue Lin explained they were lifts that would hoist her to the top of the stage. From there she had to brush through a fold of curtains and step out on the main stage.
    Tilly stepped on a lift. She could hear music filtering down from above—some kind of high-energy ragtime beat. In the next moment, a lift descended from the ceiling, carrying a female performer dressed in a riotous collection of ostrich feathers, sequins and glitter. The girl gave Tilly a furtive glance, stepped off the disk and walked out of the control room. The girl looked like a goddess compared to Tilly, who felt like a train wreck in her rags and zombie makeup.
    Sue Lin slapped her shoulder. “Pay no attention to that. Concentrate on
you
. Get ready…”
    The elevator disk whooshed up and stopped suddenly. Tilly found herself in a curtained partition. A slit of light indicated the way out. She heard her music cue.
    â€œAnd now,” said an announcer’s voice, “all the way from Long Island, New York…United Western Mining proudly introduces the gangster of hip-hop…the serial killer of swing…the girl with the tsunami swagger…Sunshine!” Applause, catcalls, and whistles followed.
    Tilly burst through the drapes and began the opening dance sequence, which was a slow walk with her hands in her pockets. Half of the applause died down when the audience got a real good look at her. Even though she did not show it, Tilly felt equally surprised at her first sight of the stage and the arena audience. The motif of the Amazon Lounge was South American jungle. Large ceramic trees took up strategic positions in the aisles, while colorful animatronic birds and monkeys moved upon tracks through synthetic branches. A brass rail surrounding the elevated half-moon stage had huge rubber snakes coiled around it from one end to the other. Maitresses and slingers, wearing leopard-print leotards, moved in and around the tables, shuffling food orders and drinks. Tilly had no idea of the capacity of the lounge but guessed it had to be close to 5,000 patrons, most of which consisted of bearded minors. The capacity looked to be about half full. A few women sat at the tables, obvious escorts or girlfriends. Tilly tried to spot Fia in the dim aisles, but couldn’t find her face.
    The crowd seemed tense, wound up like a taut wire ready to snap. A few men stood up and hurled crumpled napkins. She saw bar police merging into the crowd. She had to do something quick in order to gain control. She did a dance-strut up to the rail and glared down at the audience members. She jumped up to come back down in an animal crouch, hissing and clawing at them. This pulled a few laughs. The music volume rose. She put