“I don’t know. Maybe just Disney World?” I looked at him. “You think it’s something else?”
He frowned, then shook his head. I noticed his hair was getting long again, growing out from his funky New York haircut. That seemed like a lifetime ago. “I don’t know what to think,” he said, “I’m tired of having to think about it, you know?”
“I totally know,” I said, rubbing my temples. “Finding our parents, figuring out the whole whitecoat thing. Me saving the world, and so on. I’m tired of all of it.”
Fang looked away for a moment. “I’m ready to forget all that stuff. Look what happened with Iggy. I don’t even want to know at this point. I just want to quit running. I also miss having somewhere to make entries in the ol’ blog. I really do.”
“Let’s think about it, think about how we can do it. From Florida, we’d be in a good place to head out over the ocean, find some deserted island somewhere. We could do some research.” The more I thought about it, the more it seemed like a great idea. We would be safe. We could rest. We could relax on a beach and eat coconuts, and Angel could talk fish into committing suicide for our dinner. It would be heaven.
And the fact that I was even entertaining this idea as a possibility only showed how pathetically desperate I was. And how out of touch with reality.
101
“Come on, one more time,” Iggy wheedled.
“No,” said the Gasman.
“One more time.”
“No. It’s no fun. You always win, like, right away.”
Fang and I looked at each other and rolled our eyes. Those two had been at it all morning.
“I guess Iggy feels okay again,” I said out of the side of my mouth. Fang nodded. Iggy, of all of us, had faced the most disappointment lately. We’d actually found his parents: They were real. And they had turned out to be traitors, betrayers. All of Iggy’s hopes and dreams about one day finding his parents and having them not care that he was blind and a recombinant life-form—they’d all come true. And then they’d all been torn away.
It was much worse than for the rest of us, who hadn’t even gotten close.
Iggy had been silent and stoic since he’d come back to us, but now he had recovered enough to make Gazzy’s life miserable, so I knew he was getting back to normal. I shifted Total in my arms and rolled my shoulders.
“How long till we get to Florida?” Nudge asked. “Are we really going to Disney World? Do you think we’ll see anyone famous? I want to go to the Swiss Family Treehouse. I want to see Beauty and the Beast and get their autographs. I want to see the Tree of Life—”
I held up a hand. “Okay, hang on. I’m hoping we can go to Disney World, but we have to get down there first, check everything out. We just crossed the Georgia-Florida border, so—”
“The ocean!” said Gazzy, pointing. Way to the east, we could see the dark gray-blue of seemingly endless water. “Can we go to the beach? Please? Just for a minute?”
I thought about it. We’d had some really good times and some really bad times at beaches. “It’s almost winter,” I hedged.
“But the water’s not cold,” Iggy said.
I looked at Fang. He shrugged helpfully: my call.
Max, you need to stay focused.
My Voice. I’m . . . somewhat focused, I thought defensively. I could practically hear the Voice sigh.
If you’re going to Florida, go to Florida, said the Voice. Pick a goal and follow it through. When you’re saving the world, you can’t exactly take commercial breaks.
That did it.
“Hey, guys, wanna go to the beach?” I called.
“Yeah!” said Gazzy, punching one fist in the air.
“Yes, yes,” Angel said happily.
“I’m up for it,” said Total, in Fang’s arms.
Nudge and Iggy cheered.