“It wasn’t me,” she insisted. “And if it wasn’t me. And I’m assuming it wasn’t you,” she said, pointing at Grant. He shook his head. “Then whoever it was is still out there trying to ruin things.”

“Hopefully, I can work around that. I want this movie to be successful just as much as you do. And I think if we work together as a team, it will only help all of us.” I met Grant’s eyes.

His eyes went down to the phone that I realized I was still holding out, recording. “I turned it off.” He let out a long sigh. “Fine. I’ll post some awesome things about you.”

“You will?” I asked.

“And . . . ,” Grant said, “I can expect a viral campaign about me breathing the life into Lacey or something? You can help me win over some Grant haters?”

“Yes,” Donavan said.

Grant pointed between himself and me. “We good? You still going to be able to work with me after this? We have lots of time left.”

“We’re good,” I said. “And thank you.”

Grant put his arm around Amanda. “Are we good?”

“You’re completely selfish, but I might be willing to overlook that. We’ll see.” She steered him back toward the trailers.

I watched the two of them go, then tried to hand Donavan’s phone back to him but he sank onto the nearest bench of the amphitheater.

“You okay?” I asked.

His hands were shaking and his face was pale.

“You’re not okay,” I realized.

“I’m fine,” he managed to get out. “Just give me a second.”

“You are a rock star. Thank you for that.”

He nodded, but his eyes were still on the ground in front of him.

“You have more online followers than I do, by the way, which I am insanely jealous about.”

He smiled a little. “You’ll pass me soon, I’m sure.”

I put my hand to his forehead, which was cold and slightly damp. “Come on, let’s go get you some water and some sugar. I have both in my trailer.”

He let me lead him to the trailer, where he laid on my couch. “I feel so stupid right now,” he said.

“Please don’t. You just suppressed your flight instinct to face down someone you’d skewered on social media and who totally would’ve punched you in the face if I hadn’t been there. That wasn’t supposed to be easy, but you did it brilliantly.”

“Brilliantly?”

“That’s the right word, yes? The one we use when we are completely in awe of someone?”

“Yes,” he said. “That’s the all-encompassing compliment.”

I retrieved a water from the fridge and brought it over to him. He scooted toward the back of the couch and pulled on my hand so I’d sit on the small bit of space at the edge. I complied.

“I did it for you,” he said.

I stretched out alongside him, laying my head on his chest. “I know, and I love you for it. I just hope you don’t hate me after you have to actually compose and post that statement on all your social media.”

I could hear his soft laugh through his chest. “I could never hate you. And if all it takes is a couple of showdowns with some enemies for you to love me, just make me a list and I’m on it.”

I propped my chin on his chest and looked at him. “I think you’re set for a while.”

“So are you.”

I smiled, happiness coursing through my chest. “You know, I always thought this is what being famous would feel like. This happy, content, amazing feeling.”

“Yeah?”

“Maybe it’s even better,” I said.

“Let’s not get crazy.” He twisted one of my curls around his finger.

“You’re right. Let’s wait until I’m actually famous and then I’ll decide.”

His eyes traveled over my face. “You are beautiful.”

“So are you.”

“What now?” he asked.

“Now I work hard and set a trap.”

“You don’t think it’s Amanda anymore, do you?”

“No. I don’t.”

“Neither do I.”

“Okay, I need to go turn this face into a zombie’s.”

“You make a pretty good zombie.”

I bared my teeth and lunged for his neck.

Dancing Graves

EXT. FOREST—NIGHT

SCARLETT hunts her former friends and family one by one. BENJAMIN, who she thought she had killed in the lab several nights ago, knows she’s out of control and he must take her down. He stalks her, weapon at the ready, hoping he can do what he knows he needs to do. He comes upon her after her latest kill.

BENJAMIN

Scarlett, what have you become?

SCARLETT

Exactly what I was meant to.

There is a fight between them, Benjamin is weakened from his recent injury, but eventually he overtakes her. He watches her die, mixed emotions taking over.

EXT. CEMETERY—MORNING

Scarlett is lowered into the ground, and Benjamin—the only surviving mourner—watches, then drops a bloodred rose on top of her casket before she is covered with dirt.

EXT. CEMETERY—NIGHT

Camera, pointed at Scarlett’s headstone, slowly zooms out. The loose dirt over her grave begins to shift. A hand emerges from the soil. The formula she took minutes after being bitten has made her nearly invincible.

Thirty-Five

The campgrounds were dark. We had filmed today’s scenes in the early evening and night. Scarlett’s hunting scenes. Hazy lights had been set up, so I didn’t realize how dark it was until I was several hundred feet beyond the lights. My phone sat on the table in my trailer, bait for a troublemaker, but not helpful for me in this moment. I slowed my walk, trying to stay on the foot-worn path. The voices behind me faded with the lights, and soon I found myself in the middle of a group of trees unable to see more than three feet in front of me.

Crickets chirped, and a flapping noise sounded from above. I put my hands out in front of me so I wouldn’t hit anything and kept walking. If I just walked straight, I’d eventually emerge from the trees . . . if I remembered right.

It sounded like another set of footsteps joined mine, so I stopped to listen. The other noise stopped as well. Maybe it had just been an echo. Or someone farther down the path. I proceeded, only to hear it again.

“Hello?” I called. “Grant? Is that you?”

Nothing.

I picked up my pace, and after ten steps my hands met a tree, forcing me to stop. I turned a full circle and pressed my back up against the trunk. I’d somehow gotten off the path. Time to swallow my pride.

“Hello!” I yelled. “I’m stuck out here and need a flashlight!” I waited, but nobody answered. I cupped my hands around my mouth and yelled the same thing again. This time in my silence I heard the footsteps, as clear as day. And they were close. Obviously the person had heard me yelling, and if they were purposely not answering, then their intentions weren’t good. I felt around on the ground for something. Anything. My hand met a decent-size rock. I picked it up.

“What do you want?” I asked.