An Eraser made an eager, hungry sound, and it was all I could do not to shudder.
Ari leaned closer to me, as if catching my scent, like prey. “Your day is coming, bird girl,” he whispered. “And I’m going to finish you off myself.”
“Don’t sharpen your fangs just yet, dog boy.”
He opened his mouth to say something but then cocked his head and pressed a finger against his ear, as if hearing something.
“The Director wants to see us,” he barked at his team. “Now!”
After one last lingering look at me, he turned and followed the other Erasers. They melted into the twilight shadows like smoke.
107
Up in the tree, Angel was clutching Celeste tightly, murmuring softly to her.
“I heard them mention the Director at the School,” Nudge said. “Who is it?”
I shrugged. “Some big, very bad person.” One of many who were after us. I wondered if it was Jeb, our fake father. Our savior and then our betrayer.
“You okay?” Iggy asked. I saw his white-knuckled hold on his branch and gave him a gentle tap with my boot.
“Hunky-dory,” I said. “But I want to get out of here right now.”
In the end, we settled in the top floor of a ninety-story apartment building that was being built on the Upper East Side. The first seventy or so floors had been windowed in, but up here it was just an empty shell with piles of drywall and insulation. Huge gaping holes gave us a great view of the East River and Central Park.
Nudge and I went to a local grocery store, then schlepped three heavy bags of groceries back to the others. It was breezy up in our aerie, but private and safe. We watched the last of the sun go down and ate. My head was aching, but not too badly.
“I’m tired,” Angel said. “I want to go to bed.”
“Yeah, let’s try to get some sleep,” I said. “It’s been a long, relatively yucky day.” I held out my left fist, and we all stacked up. Tapping our hands seemed so familiar, so comforting, connecting us.
The Gasman and I cleared construction debris away, and Iggy and Fang moved stacks of drywall to make windbreaks. In the end we had a cozy space, and the flock was asleep within ten minutes.
Except me.
How were the Erasers tracking us so easily? I looked hard at my left wrist, as if staring at it would make my chip float to the surface of my skin. I myself could be a beacon without knowing it, without being able to do a thing about it—except leave the flock and strike out on my own. The Erasers were tracking us but not killing us. Why had Ari stopped them today?
And what in the world was happening with Angel? Her telepathic powers seemed to be growing. I groaned to myself, picturing a strong-willed Angel demanding birthday presents; junk food before dinner; stupid, trendy clothes.
Don’t borrow trouble, Max, said my Voice.
Long time no hear, I thought.
Worry is unproductive. You can’t control what happens to Angel. You can save the world, but the only thing you can control is you. Go to sleep, Max. It’s time to learn.
Learn what? I started to ask, but then, as if someone had flicked a switch, I sank into unconsciousness.
108
When I blinked awake the next morning, I was greeted by newspapers and breakfast in bed.
“Wha’?” I mumbled.
“We got breakfast,” Fang said, taking a bite of muffin. “You were out for the count.”
As I took my first bite of muffin, I became aware of the quivering tension around me. “What else?”
Fang nodded toward the newspapers.