“Before you tell me, Plum, you can’t just post a puke bucket, okay?” Peach scolded. “You’re at Pyre Festival. You should post, you know . . . aspirational stuff.”
“Okay, except there’s a—” Plum stammered.
“For example,” Peach continued. “On the helicopter out here, did I post a picture to Instagram wearing that frankly unflattering headset? No! I posted my legs sticking out from the door over the water. And on TikTok I posted a pan from my legs to the water sparkling below the helicopter with that new song by DanceBeast.”
“That sounds nice. I would click love,” Jude said affirmingly.
Peach indulged the teen with a smile.
“Also! Look at that date!” Peach held out her phone, sharing Plum’s puke-bucket Instagram post. “You haven’t updated in two days!”
“Listen, now’s not the time, because—” Dude began, pushing his sunglasses up on his forehead. With them perched there, it almost made his bleached hair look like one of those anime novelty wigs.
“No excuses!” Peach held out an imperious hand. “I think no one really appreciates how much work goes into what I do. I know, I make it look easy with my fabulous lifestyle, but it’s work, kid. Dubya-OH-Rrr-Kuh! WORK.” Peach’s eyes were wide in emphasis.
“Hey, so, I don’t know you,” Dude began again, gently inserting himself into the moment. “But we’ve all been lured here under false—”
“Who are you again?” Peach asked.
“I’m Dude,” Dude explained. “From Killing it, dude!”
Peach just stared at Dude blankly.
“Y-you know,” Dude stammered. His voice went from normal to ragged in an instant as he yelled, “KILLING IT, DUDE!”
Peach glanced at Plum, clearly seeking either guidance or rescue.
“It doesn’t matter.” Dude avoided their eyes as his mouth turned down. “What I mean is . . .” His voice grew harder. “What you don’t know is no one can post anything because there is no internet.”
“Yeah, and also, small matter, really.” Shelley’s smile was pressured in such a way that it seemed like she would break off into peals of unhinged laughter at any moment. “Like, no biggie, but also there’s a killer on the island and they’ve killed two people so far. Ha!” Shelley clapped her hand over her mouth.
“Yeah, we bury the lede around here,” Warix said. “Also, if you downloaded Pyre Signs, your phone is wrecked.”
Peach started to speak, then snapped her mouth closed again. The broad brim of her sun hat wobbled like pudding as she swiveled her head to look at Warix. “No internet?” she asked, as if pondering the unfathomable.
“Nope!” Jude said brightly, still fizzing that Peach had called him “adorable.”
“No internet and two dead bodies,” Dude emphasized.
Peach gave Dude a vague, confused smile. She turned to Plum. “No internet?” she asked again.
“They’re telling the truth, Peach.” Plum said. “Try your phone and see.”
Marlowe and Sofia wore the same expression of disbelief, their eyes almost comically wide at Peach’s inability to focus on the murdery content.
“And if you’ve got a signal, get a boat or something sent out, pronto,” Cici added.
“Sure thing, babe.” Peach put the phone to her ear, waiting. “Love your makeup, by the way.” She waited.
The ocean glittered all around them.
Peach held out her phone, glaring at it. “This is impossible.” She raised her phone up, first to one side, then another. “This phone is supposed to have network coverage everywhere.”
“Okay, and also there’s a killer on the island here with us,” Sofia said, over-enunciating every third word.
Peach stared at her. “So you’re actually being serious . . . ?”
“That’s what we’ve been trying to tell you, dude.” Dude nodded at Peach, a gentle bob of encouragement for the influencer processing the information.
“Look, I know this is a bizarre situation to just walk into.” Jalen held up placating hands. “But it’s true. We’re not pranking you.” He gestured at Plum. “Trust your sister.”
They all stared at each other in silence.
Peach blinked.
“Would you like to see the bodies?” Marlowe asked solicitously. As if she were offering a beverage or a snack instead of offering to take her to view two corpses.
“No, that won’t be necessary,” Peach replied.
“Speaking of the bodies, maybe we should finally move them,” Warix suggested.
“We have to figure out our watch schedule first,” Dude reminded the others.
“You’re holding a chicken,” Peach stated, her voice flat, an unspoken you realize transmitted in her tone.
“Yeah.” Sofia spared Plum’s sister a glance. “Her owner died on the first night.”
Peach rocked back on the heels of her platform espadrilles.
“Trippy, ain’t it?” Dude’s voice was more amused than mocking.
“Excuse me,” Peach began, her voice both wounded and shocked. “I’m just trying to take this all in.” Under her golden tan, she looked pale.
“You and us both.” Jude sighed.
Peach rounded on Plum, an accusing finger outstretched. “Only you would crash a murder festival.”