“I know. But we know pretty much where it is—there’ll be a blank space on the map, but it would still help us to find roads to get there,” I said.
Fifteen minutes of hiking brought us to the back of the strip mall. It was a decent-sized place, with a dollar store, gas station, a freestanding bank machine, dry cleaner, and a beauty salon. No food, except at the gas station store.
“Need to get your hair done?” Fang asked, and I elbowed him. Like I’d ever had my hair done in my life. Mostly I whacked it shorter with the kitchen scissors when it got too annoying.
“Well, what now?” the Gasman asked. “Should we keep going?”
“Let me think,” I muttered, looking the mall up and down. Hitchhiking was out of the question—we’d end up murdered in a ditch or something. It was at least ten miles to the School. We could fly it, but I didn’t want to approach from the air. So we’d have to walk, but it would take a while, and we were already hungry.
“Okay,” I said finally. “Looks like we’ll have to—”
I was interrupted by the squeal of a car pulling in. Without speaking, we drew back into a clump of bushes by the side of the building. A fancy gray car with a silver hood ornament roared up by the little bank machine.
The window opened, and loud music spilled out. A slick-looking guy leaned toward the machine, a cell phone up to his ear.
“Shut up, you idiot!” he was saying. “If you hadn’t lost your card, I wouldn’t need cash!”
The man stuck his arm out and pushed his card into the machine. Quickly, he punched in his code, then waited. “That’s what I get for trusting you with anything!” he snapped into the phone. “You can’t handle getting dressed in the morning!”
“Jerk,” Nudge whispered next to me. I nodded.
Like magic, the machine spit some green bills through a slit, and the man snatched them and started counting. The next moment, a big black pickup truck screeched into the parking lot, way close to the fancy car. Its rear tires spun and spit rocks, and we could hear little pinging noises as they hit the cushmobile.
We shrank back farther into the woods. Goose bumps rose on my arms, and my breath caught in my throat. Erasers? The chip I had. Should I run now, getting the Erasers to follow me and leave the flock alone?
“He’s going to go ballistic,” Fang predicted quietly.
Veins practically popping out of his neck, the jerk leaned out his window and yelled a bunch of swear words, including a new one I tucked away in my brain for future use, if necessary.
The darkened window of the pickup rolled down, and I inhaled silently.
“What’d you say, dipstick?” Ari asked with a creepy smile.
53
I swallowed hard, my muscles tightening. I put my hand on Gazzy’s shoulder. “Shhh. Shhhh.”
The jerk in the gray car’s eyes bugged out, and the next thing we knew, he had stomped on his gas pedal. His car leaped forward.
Ari laughed like a maniac, and the black pickup peeled out too, spraying gravel. Five heartbeats later, we could barely hear the roar of the two engines racing down the road.
“He gets around,” said Fang quietly.
“Was Ari’s hair green?” I asked, confused.
“Yep,” Nudge said, unusually brief.
The five of us looked at one another—well, not Iggy, so much—then at the ATM.
It was beeping quietly. We glanced around. There were people inside the stores, but the machine faced away from them. Without saying a word, we dropped low and slipped across the parking lot.
None of us had ever used one of these. For some strange reason, the mad scientists at the School had neglected to set up bank accounts and trust funds for us.
Fortunately, the machine was designed to be used by idiots.
DO YOU WANT ANOTHER TRANSACTION? it asked in orange letters.
“Get cash,” Fang advised unnecessarily.