The woman flushed, and I saw several colleagues look at her as if she had messed up.
“Frankly, we consider you a national resource,” said a woman in uniform. “A national treasure, if you will.” She gave an unconvincing smile. “Like the Declaration of Independence.”
I sighed. “Which is kept in a sealed display case under lock and key, with armed guards. No, thanks. Anyone else?”
The cool-eyed general spoke again. “The fact remains that you are minors, and as such must be under adult supervision and guardianship, according to state law. We’re offering you such guardianship with a great many benefits and privileges. There could be many less-attractive options.” He sat back looking satisfied, as if he had just crushed an opponent at Battleship.
I blinked and looked around the room in disbelief. “You’re kidding,” I said. “We’ve escaped from top-security prisons, lived through mental and physical torture, lived on our own for years, made tons of smarty-pants grown-ups look like fools without even trying, eaten desert rats with no A1 steak sauce, and you’re telling me we’re minors and have to have guardians?” I shook my head, staring at him. “Listen, pal, I grew up in a freaking dog crate. I’ve seen horrible part-human mutations die gut-wrenching deaths. I’ve had people, mutants, and robots trying to kill me twenty-four/seven for as long as I can remember, and you think I’m gonna cave to state law? Are you bonkers?”
My voice had risen steadily and it filled the room. Everyone was stock-still, dead quiet.
Finally the man who had first greeted us cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Well, perhaps we should take a break and meet again tomorrow.” It was like someone looking at a horrible battlefield wound and saying, “Let’s put a Band-Aid on this thing, patch it right up!”
Once we were back in the limousine, my mom patted my hand and said brightly, “Gosh, that went well!” and I snorted.
Then we were all laughing, and I wished we could stay that way forever: all together and laughing. Of course, we couldn’t.
10
THAT NIGHT WE DECIDED to order in pizza like normal people.
Mom had a menu from a local place, and each of us kids got to order our own whole, large pizza. I would never get used to having enough to eat for more than a day or two at a time. It wouldn’t last, so I was going to enjoy it while I could.
“So, this whole government-control thing isn’t working for me,” I said while we waited for the delivery guy to show up.
My mom looked at me. “I’d feel better if you were being protected somehow,” she said. See? That’s what kind of mom she is. She doesn’t order me to do stuff, doesn’t try to pin me down. As long as I don’t leave my socks lying around, I’m golden.
“Their protection never lasts,” said Gazzy. “It turns into something else. Like a trap, or a nightmare, or an experiment. Did I remember to order extra pineapple?”
The rest of the flock nodded.
“I don’t want to go to school,” said Nudge, pulling her attention away from a TV show. “Unless it’s, like, fashion school or music school, like how to be a rock star. But math class every day? And spelling? Bleah.”
“I don’t think those people really know what they want,” said Angel thoughtfully.
“Did we remember to get garlic bread?” Total asked, and we all nodded again.
“But you’re not picking up out-and-out evil?” I asked Angel. Having a six-year-old mind reader does come in handy.
“No,” Angel said, stroking Total’s back. “I can feel secrets, and confusion. But no mad-scientist stuff.”
“Something new and different,” said Iggy.
“Anyone want refills on lemonade?” Jeb asked, holding out the carton.
“I do.” Gazzy handed him a cup, and Iggy said, “No, the blue one’s mine.”
Gazzy pushed him the blue cup, then looked up as we all realized that no one had mentioned cup colors. Iggy picked up his cup and drank, not seeming to notice anything odd.
“Which blue cup, Ig?” I asked casually. “Light or dark?”
“Light,” he said.
We were all silent, and then Iggy frowned. “Huh. Did you guys tell me what colors the cups were?”
“Nope,” I said quietly.
He stared at the table, then shook his head. “I’m still — I still can’t see squat. No vision. Nothing.” He reached out his hand, moving it slowly until he felt his cup. “But this cup is blue.”
Gazzy pushed over another cup. “What’s this one?”
Iggy felt for it, then closed his hand around it. “Yellow?”
“Yeah,” Fang said. “How about this?” He put the pizza menu into Iggy’s hand. “What color is it?”
“Green?” Iggy asked. “It feels green.”
No one said anything for a while as we digested this new development. I remembered what Jeb had said, about how we might be mutating on our own, without planning. Nudge seemed to be thinking the same thing. She timidly reached out her hand, and when it was a few inches away, her fork flew into her grasp.
“Have you guys been playing in toxic waste again?” Fang asked severely, putting his hands on his hips.
Nudge giggled. “No.”
“Been bitten by a radioactive spider?” Fang went on. “Struck by lightning? Drink a super-soldier serum?”
“No, no, no,” said Iggy. He started reaching for things around the table, and his hand landed on Total. “You’re black.”
“I prefer canine-American,” said Total. “When’s that pie coming? I’m starving.”
“What about me?” Nudge asked, putting Iggy’s hand on her face.
He smiled. “You’re sort of a chocolate-milk-slash-coffee color,” he said in wonder.
“Like, mocha,” said Gazzy.
So there you go. Iggy had a new, unexpected skill, like Nudge. Would we all develop them? Surely nothing more could happen to Angel — she was pretty much already loaded for bear in terms of special powers.
The rest of us would have to wait and see.
Then the doorbell rang, and we all leaped up. Dinner!
11
THE FLOCK STOOD out of sight of the door while Jeb answered it. A short guy in a red shirt stood there holding a large stack of pizza boxes. Jeb paid him, and the guy handed over the pizzas and hurried back to his car. Mom took the boxes, and Jeb shut and locked the door. The flock came out of hiding as if we were Munchkins and the good witch Glinda had just showed up.
“Yes, yes, yes,” Nudge breathed, almost jumping up and down. The incredible smell of pizza filled the room.
Mom put the boxes on the table and opened one. “Who got the extra pepperoni and mushrooms?”
“Me, me!” I said, feeling my stomach rumble.
My mom reached into the box, and Gazzy grabbed her arm and said, “Wait!”
“Get away from that pizza!” I ordered Gazzy, moving closer. “Yours is probably next.”
“No,” said Gazzy, a stricken look on his face. “Look!” He pointed into the pizza box, and when I looked closely, I could see a tiny bit of green wire sticking out from under the thick Sicilian crust.
“Take cover!” I yelled, and then we all dove.
Everything flashed brilliant white, and then a huge kaboom! practically punctured my eardrums. I was lying on the floor behind the couch, and Fang was behind me, his arms around me, one hand covering my face. There was a bit of crackling, and then the weird post-explosion silence that sounds much louder than ordinary silence. Slight fluttering sounds told me that bits of stuff were floating to the ground.
“You okay?” Fang said, but my ears were blown and muffled, and it sounded as though he was speaking through a pillow. I nodded and scrambled up.
“Report!” I said, then instantly choked on the fine dust that filled the air. I started coughing hard, tears streaming down my face, and every time I took a breath, I sucked in more dust and coughed more.
“I’m okay,” said Nudge, crawling out from the hallway where she had dived.
br />
“I’m okay,” said Iggy, though I couldn’t see him. Then a pile of dust and debris moved on the floor, and he stood up, looking as if he’d been flocked. Like a Christmas tree.
“Okay here,” said Gazzy, and he started coughing too.
“What was that?” my mom asked, sounding shocked.
“Everyone all right?” Jeb asked, brushing stuff off his shoulders.
Amazingly, we were all fine, except for minor scrapes, cuts, and bruises. Total looked as if he’d been breaded in preparation for frying. If Gazzy hadn’t seen that wire, we all would have resembled pizzas ourselves: flat and messy.
“But what was that?” my mom asked again. She looked totally freaked out and kept patting everyone down for broken bones.
“A welcome wagon?” I said, already gathering our meager belongings. “Okay, everyone. Let’s scram before the cops show.”
12
WE SPLIT UP from Mom and Jeb, then met them fifteen minutes later at an inconspicuous motel out on the highway. They drove, and we flew overhead, looking for anyone tailing them. We didn’t see anyone, and I guessed that whoever set up the bomb assumed it had worked and that we had all been eliminated. No one had tried to blow us up in a while, and we were all a little shaken. It was a reminder that danger could come from anywhere, anyone.
After brushing themselves off as much as possible, Mom rented a room, and Jeb rented the one next door. We waited till the coast was totally clear, and then the flock and Total sneaked in. Maybe we’d be safe here for a little while.
That night, my mom and I stayed up talking after everyone else had gone to bed. I curled up on the couch next to her and tried not to imagine what my life would have been like if I could have been talking to her like this all the time.
“Who could have done that?” she asked, still looking upset and troubled.
I shrugged. “It could be anyone. Any of the bad guys, any of the good guys who are really bad guys, anyone working for any of them. Maybe the government gang didn’t want to take no for an answer.”
She shook her head. “I still feel that no matter how overbearing they are, how much they don’t understand the situation, they’re on the level. I don’t think they were behind this.”
“Do you trust Jeb?” I asked her.
“I do,” she said slowly. “But I also think you should always be on guard. With everyone, all the time.”
I nodded. “I’m not sure what we’ll do, after this.”
“The government school still not holding any appeal for you?” She smiled.
“No.”
“You’re always welcome at home,” she said, and took my hand.
I shook my head. “I wouldn’t do that to you — at least not too often. Anyone who helps us winds up getting hurt. Like tonight, for example.”
“Still. Never forget you have a refuge.”
“Okay,” I said with a smile. “I wish we could hang out like this more often.”
“Me too. There’s so much I want to talk to you about, so much I don’t know.” She hesitated. “Is there something going on between you and Fang?”
My eyes went wide, and I felt heat flush my cheeks. “No. What do you mean?” I said unconvincingly.
My mom stroked my hair and tried not to look worried. “Just be careful,” she said, and kissed my forehead. “There are other kinds of pain besides physical.”
Oh, like I didn’t know that.
13
“YO, MAX.”
Fang. Fang’s voice. I blinked and sat up fast, grabbing the sheets. “Wha’?” I panted. “What’s, what’s —”
“Let’s take a little spin.” Fang motioned outside. I looked around. The girls were sleeping in this room, boys in the other. Outside, the night was deep but bright with moonlight.
“Why?” I whispered.
He smiled unexpectedly, and my heart gave a little squeeze. “Because we can.”
Sadly, I usually don’t need a better reason than that. Fang eased himself through the motel door and ran off into the night, while I quickly pulled on jeans and a jacket. Then I followed him, raced toward the dark part of the parking lot, and launched myself into the air.
My wings snapped out, full and strong, through the big slits in my jacket. I dipped several feet until my feathers gathered the air like sails, and then I rose powerfully over the rooftops of this quiet DC suburb. I smiled as I cut through the night sky, Fang a thousand feet above me, barely outlined by moonlight. In seconds I had reached him, full of the exhilaration that comes with free flying, flying for pleasure. Instead of for escape, for example.
We wheeled through the chilly air, not speaking, leaving the town far behind.
Soon we were near the ocean, close to Chesapeake Bay. Swooping lower in wide circles, we saw a small unused dock jutting out into the water. With unspoken agreement we coasted lower, finally making a sneaker-pounding running stop down the length of the dock. Scarcely breathing hard, we sat on the edge of the dock, leaving our wings outstretched to cool off. There was no room — one of Fang’s wings overlapped one of mine.
“This is pretty.” My feet dangled at least a yard above the water.
“Yeah. Peaceful.” Fang was looking at everything except me. “Are we back on track?”
I looked at him. “What do you mean? What track?”
“You and me. We . . . broke up.”
Oh, that. I gazed at the water, embarrassed.
“I don’t want to split up again,” he said.
“No, me neither.”
“Max . . .”
His face was unreadable in the moonlight. I felt the light, feathery heat of his wing lying over mine. What did he want from me? Why couldn’t he just let things be?
“What do you want from me?” he said.
“What do I — What do you mean? I want the usual stuff, like always.” I hated conversations like this, hated talking about my feelings unless I was, like, furious. Then words came easily. But this mushy hearts-and-flowers stuff? Ugh.
His eyes met mine. “Look, you didn’t like it when you saw me with that girl at school, back in Virginia.”
True. Seeing Fang kissing the Red-Haired Wonder had sent acid churning through my gut. I stayed silent, remembering.
“And I wasn’t thrilled about you and Sam, the possible traitor, also back in Virginia.”
“Yeah, Virginia basically sucked,” I agreed.
“Well, why? Why would it bother us to see us with other people?”
Oh, God, where was he going with this? If I had more than brother-sister feelings for Fang, I could barely admit them to myself, much less him.
“’Cause we’re shallow and self-serving?” I tried, wishing he would just drop it.
He rolled his eyes and took my hand. His hand was hard and calloused, tough with muscle and old scars. The night settled around us like a blanket. I could hear the water lapping against the dock. We were totally alone.
“You’re . . . ,” he began, and I waited, heart throbbing in my throat. “Such a pain,” he concluded.
“What?” I asked, just as his head swooped in and his mouth touched mine. I tried to speak, but one of Fang’s hands held the back of my head, and he kept his lips pressed against me, kissing me softly but with a Fanglike determination.
Oh, jeez, I thought distractedly. Jeez, this is Fang, and me, and . . . Fang tilted his head to kiss me more deeply, and I felt totally lightheaded. Then I remembered to breathe through my nose, and the fog cleared a tiny bit. Somehow we were pressed together, Fang’s arms around me now, sliding under my wings, his hands flat against my back.
It was incredible. I loved it. I loved him.
It was a total disaster.
Gasping, I pulled back. “I, uh —,” I began oh so coherently, and then I jumped up, almost knocking him over, and raced down the dock. I took off, flying fast, like a rocket.
14
SO THERE YOU HAVE IT. I was every warning headline of every teen magazine. “Are you pushing
him away? How to get him closer!” “Tired of being a tomboy? How to access your inner vixen!” “Not ready for a relationship? Here are 10 ways to tell!” I’m guessing one way to tell would be freaking out over a simple kiss, streaking off in the night, then lying awake in bed until dawn, tortured by emotions you don’t even recognize. I don’t know — seems like a clue.
When my mom patted my shoulder to “wake” me up in the morning, my eyes were dry and gritty. I had gotten about twenty minutes of sleep. I was dreading facing Fang, and wondering if he was mad, hurt, or what. Then Mom said, “Want pancakes? There’s an IHOP next door,” and my day started looking up.
It went downhill again after the pancakes. Fang was distant, Iggy kept touching things and yelling out what color they were, and Nudge kept making metal things leap toward her, like the zipper on my hoodie, for example. Gazzy and Angel were being themselves, which, face it, is a challenge even on a good day. Total for once was subdued, curled up on the motel sofa, licking his back.
And yet our Washington DC fun wasn’t over! Mom and Jeb convinced us to keep our other meeting, which involved us getting paraded in front of a special congressional committee. I guess it was like the Surprise Mutant Solution Committee.
Anyway.
“We have some exciting news,” a silver-haired man said. “We’ve been allocated the funds to create a special school for you. The location hasn’t been decided yet. Nor has it been decided whether you will be mainstreamed with other children.” He beamed as if he’d just told us we’d won the lottery.
“Uh-huh,” I said warily.
“I’m still unclear why the children can’t just live in peace somewhere, in hiding,” said my mom. Way to go, Mom!
“Well, you see, Ms. Martinez —,” a woman began.
“Doctor,” said my mom. “Dr. Martinez.”
“Ah, yes. Dr. Martinez,” the woman said.
“Like in the witness protection program,” my mom went on. “The government spends millions of dollars, so much time and energy, protecting witnesses who are often criminals themselves. Why can’t you make the same effort to protect innocent children?”