9
I was so startled by the Voice’s sudden reappearance that I jumped and practically fell against the rock wall.
Instinctively I put a hand to my temple, as if I could feel the Voice running under my skin like a river.
“You okay?” Iggy reached out and touched my jeans. He’d felt me jump.
“Yeah,” I muttered, walking away from the group. I felt them all looking at me, but I didn’t want to explain.
Voice. Long time no annoy, I thought.
You were doing pretty well on your own, it replied. As before, it was impossible to tell whether it was young or old, male or female, human or machine. I was instantly aw
are of a schizoid reaction: Part of me felt irritated, invaded, suspicious, resentful—and part of me was flooded with relief, like I wasn’t so alone.
Which was dumb. I lived with my five best friends and a dog. They were my family, my life. How could I possibly feel alone?
Everyone is always alone, Max, said the Voice, chipper as always. That’s why connections are important.
Have you been reading Hallmark cards again? I thought. I walked out to the end of the canyon and found myself a mere ten feet from a ledge that dropped sharply into a much deeper, bigger canyon.
Connections, Max. Remember your dream?
I frowned, not knowing what the Voice was talking about.
You mean my dream of becoming the first avian-American Miss America? I thought snidely.
No. Your dream that the Erasers are chasing you, and you run through the woods until you come to a ledge. Then you fall off the ledge but start flying. And escape.
My breath left my chest with an audible oof. I hadn’t had that dream since...well, since my dream had been replaced by a reality that was much worse. How had the Voice known about it?
“Yeah, so?” I said out loud.
This canyon is very much like your dream. It’s as if you’ve come full circle.
I had no clue. No idea what the Voice meant.
Connections. Putting it all together. Your dream, Fang’s laptop, people you’ve met, places you’ve been. Itex, the School, the Institute. Isn’t it all connected?
Okay, but how? I practically shouted.
I almost thought I heard the Voice sigh, but probably just imagined it.
You’ll see. You’ll figure it out. Before it’s too late.
That’s comforting, I thought angrily. Thanks.
Then I had another thought. Voice? Where are all the Erasers?
Granted, the Voice had never answered a direct question—no, that would have been too easy. You don’t just give the rat a piece of cheese—you make her work for it, right?
Shrugging, I turned and headed back to the others.
They’re dead, Max, said the Voice. They’ve all been...retired.
I stopped in my tracks, frozen by shock. The Voice was always coy with information, but as far as I knew, it had never lied to me. (Which meant nothing, I realize.) But—dead?
Dead, the Voice repeated. They’ve been retired. All around the world, every branch of the organization has been terminating their recombinant-DNA experiments. You’re among the only ones left. And they’re coming for you.