Nudge tried not to think, so Angel wouldn’t be more scared, but she wasn’t able to shut her brain down completely. So Angel might have felt her think: Not even Max and Fang can get us out of this. No one can. This is the end.
22
I went back to Fang the next morning and pretended that nothing had happened, that my little DNA-enhanced heart hadn’t gone all aflutter and that I hadn’t imagined myself in a hoopskirt, coming down the stairs at Tara like Scarlett O’Hara.
Nope. Not my style. Instead I showed up, skidding on my landing, sending grit and pebbles everywhere, and said, “Let’s roll!”
Topping the list of thorns in my side for today were:
1) Weirdness between me and Fang
2) Worry about leaving the flock
3) Gnawing sense of pressure about getting back to the mission
4) The usual: food, shelter, safety, life expectancy, etc.
5) And then, of course, that whole actual saving-the-world thing
Gosh, it was hard to figure out what to worry about first. Everything wanting to contribute to my ulcer, Get in line and take a number!
“You’re quiet.” Fang broke into my thoughts. Below us, barren miles of mountains, plains, Indian reservations, and desert looked like wrinkles on a dirt-colored tablecloth.
I glanced at him. “Enjoy it while you can.”
“Max.” He waited till I looked at him again. “The one thing we have is each other. The one thing we can depend on, no matter what. We have to...talk about stuff.”
I would pretty much rather have been torn apart by wild animals. “I liked it better when you didn’t talk,” I said. “I mean, there’s a reason people don’t look under rocks, you know?”
“Meaning what?” He sounded irritated. “We’re going to pretend nothing’s going on? That’s stupid. The only way to deal with any of this is to get it out in the open.”
Ugh. “Have you been watching Oprah again?”
Now I had made him mad, and he fell silent. I was relieved, but I knew this subject wasn’t closed. Then my eyes registered the particular area we were flying over at high speed. It was a little hard to tell where Arizona left off and California began—you’d think they would just go ahead and paint those blue map lines everywhere, divvying up the states—but I recognized this place.
“Going down!” I announced, angling my body and tucking my wings behind me.
Fang followed me without comment. I could practically feel the strong “wring her neck” vibes coming from him, but it wasn’t the first time he’d been really angry at me, and God knew it wouldn’t be the last.
I landed at the edge of a woods near a dinky little Arizona town and started walking west. After two minutes I stopped, looking straight ahead at a small, tidy house surrounded by a somewhat scraggly yard.
Max, you’re making a serious mistake, said the Voice. Get up and get out of here right now. Get back to your mission. I’m very serious about this.
I ignored it, emotions starting to swirl inside me.
“Where are we?” Fang whispered.
“At Ella’s house,” I said, hardly able to believe it myself. “And Dr. Martinez.”
23
“If we can all fly, why are we in the back of a semi?” Iggy whispered.
He was rewarded by having one of the Flyboys kick him hard in the ribs. “Oof!”
Nudge winced, practically feeling his pain with him. Since he was blind, he couldn’t see her face or the sympathy she was trying to send his way.
Everything hurt. Nudge didn’t know how long they’d been lying on the floor in the back of this big truck, feeling every bump in the road. They’d been tied up for hours, and she couldn’t feel her hands anymore. Every time the truck bounced, her shoulder or her hip banged against the hard floor, and she was sure she’d have humongous bruises. They all would.