When we pulled up to the building, I realized we’d seen it from the air. It looked like a great big private house, made of cream-colored stone. Ivy grew up one wall, and they’d let an OCD gardener have his way with the grounds. Extremely tidy.
Anne pulled into the drop-off line.
“Okay, kids,” she said. “They’re expecting you. All the paperwork is done.” She looked back at us, sitting tensely in the rear seats. My stomach hurt from nerves, and I was pulling my wings in so tight that they ached.
“I know it seems scary,” she went on gently. “But it’ll really be okay. Please just give it a chance. And I’ll have a treat waiting for you at home this afternoon. We clear on how you’ll get home?”
I nodded, feeling as tight as a coiled spring. How about by way of Bermuda?
“It’s about a ten-minute walk,” Anne confirmed. “And here we are.” She pulled up to the curb, and we piled out of the car. I took a deep breath, looking at the poor lemmings filing in through the big double doors.
“Here we go,” lemming Max muttered, then I took Nudge’s and Angel’s hands as we walked into the school.
42
“Okay, they’re here,” Ari said into the mike clipped onto his collar. He refocused his Zeiss binoculars, but the hated mutants were already out of sight, inside the building.
He’d have to switch to the thermal sensor, one of his favorite toys. He pulled the headpiece on and slid the lenses over his eyes. Inside the school was a wash of red: warm human bodies streaming through the halls.
“There,” he breathed, as six orangey yellow images emerged from the red river. He grinned. The bird kids ran hotter than humans, hotter than Erasers. They were easy to pick out.
“Wanna see?” Ari pulled off the headpiece and handed it to the person sitting next to him. She put it on, smoothing her hair under its straps.
“Cool,” she said. “Did you check out those goofy uniforms? Jeez. I’m not gonna have to wear one, am I?”
“Maybe. How do the freaks seem to you?” Ari asked her, as she continued to watch them.
The girl shrugged, her hair brushing her shoulders. “They don’t suspect a thing. Of course, this is just the beginning, really.”
Ari grinned, revealing his canines. “The beginning of the end,” he said, and she grinned back. They slapped high fives, the sound like a rifle shot in the quiet woods.
“Yep. It’s gonna be great,” said Max II, and she popped a piece of gum into her mouth. “Now everything gets doubly interesting.”
43
The distinct lack of an antiseptic smell was slightly encouraging, I decided. And the interior of this school looked nothing like the School, our former prison.
“Zephyr, is it?” A tweedy, teachery woman smiled uncertainly at us. She said her name was Ms. Cuelbar.
“Yeah?” said Gazzy. “That’s me.”
The teacher’s smile grew. “Zephyr, you’re with me,” she said, holding out her hand. “Come along, dear.”
I nodded briefly at Gazzy, and he went with the woman. He knew what to do: memorize escape routes, gauge how many people there were, how big they were, how well they’d be likely to fight. If he got the signal, he could burst through a window and be out of here in about four seconds flat.
“At least he’s not Captain Terror anymore,” I murmured to Fang.
“Yeah, Zephyr’s a big improvement,” Fang said.
“Nick? And Jeff? I’m Mrs. Cheatham. Welcome to our school. Come with me and I’ll show you your classroom,” another teacher chirped.
I tapped the back of Iggy’s hand twice. Watching him and Fang go down the hall was really hard. Teachers came for Angel and Nudge, and then it was just me, fighting my overwhelming instinct to get out of there.
The teachers seemed okay. They hadn’t really looked like possible Erasers—too old, not muscled enough. Erasers hardly ever made it past five, six years old, so when they weren’t morphed, they looked like models in their early twenties.
“Max? I’m Ms. Segerdahl. You’re in my class.”
She looked fairly acceptable. Harmless? Whatever. Probably couldn’t conceal many weapons under her skirt and sweater.