School's Out- Forever (Maximum Ride 2)

After more than three hours of cautiously slow but still kidney-jarring travel and a pit stop for lunch, we had arrived at Itex headquarters. Through our sheer instinct and heightened powers of deduction, we had zeroed in on the place that might hold some answers for us.

Heightened powers of deduction meaning being able to read all the signs on the highway saying “Itex—Exit 398.”

Now we examined the tall iron gates, the professional landscaping.

“No barbed wire,” Fang muttered.

“No armed guards,” said Nudge. “That little guardhouse is cute, though.”

It seemed unusual, which set off blinking red lights in my brain. Was this where the world would get saved? Where my destiny would finally be played out?

Just then a smiling uniformed guard stepped out of the guardhouse. He had no gun or other weapon that we could see.

/> “Are you all here for the tour?” he asked pleasantly.

“Um, yes,” said Fang, his hands tight on the steering wheel.

“I’m sorry—the last one was at four,” the guard said. “But come back tomorrow—the tours are every hour on the hour, and they leave from the main lobby.” He pointed through the gates to one of the larger buildings.

“Um, okay,” said Fang, putting Jigsaw into reverse. “Thanks.”

We pulled away but kept the guard in our sight as long as we could. We didn’t see him speak to anyone or use his walkie-talkie or anything. It was weird. Once again I felt a heavy sense of unnamed dread settling on my shoulders. I wasn’t stupid. Those kids had been sent to us, to give us a message. To get us to Itex. Sooner or later we would find out what was planned for us here, and odds were that it would be nothing good.

My Voice had been quiet for a while, and I almost—almost—wanted it to speak up again, just to drop some clues about what we were doing here.

But there was no way I’d ask it.

121

“Okay, Iggy, your turn,” I said, pressing a small bottle of shampoo into his hand. “And just because you can’t see is no excuse to not get all the grime off.”

Iggy took the shampoo, and Gazzy directed him toward the bathroom door.

My hair was still wet, dampening my T-shirt at the shoulders. We were ensconced in the lack of luxury of the Twilight Inn, which was the kind of place that had shady deals going on in all the rooms. We hadn’t had baths since we’d left Anne’s, and the Twilight Inn had the bonus of its own pay laundry room. I’d just gotten back with the last load of warm, dry, clean clothes, which I dumped on one of the double beds.

I felt almost human.

That was a joke—get it?

Nudge, Gazzy, Angel, and Total were on the other bed, watching TV. The kids all had their wings out, letting them dry. I sat down and shoved some laundry at Fang.

“So, Itex,” he said, starting to fold and pack.

“Yep. Guess who made the laundry detergent? Guess what gas station we stopped at? Guess who made the soda you’re drinking?” Now that I was looking for it, I saw the Itex logo everywhere. It was unbelievable—the company seemed to touch every aspect of our lives. But we’d never thought about it before, never noticed it.

Wordlessly Fang held up a pair of Gazzy’s jeans. The back label said Itex.

“This is bad,” I said, keeping my voice down.

“You idiot!” Total shouted at the TV. “It’s the red one! The red one!”

“They’re everywhere, all right,” I said. “What’s worse is, the more I think about it, the more I remember them being everywhere our whole lives. I remember Angel drinking Itex formula from an Itex bottle, and wearing Itex diapers. It’s like they’ve been taking over the world without anyone noticing it.”

“Someone noticed it,” Fang said slowly, folding a shirt of Iggy’s. “Someone at the School noticed it at least fourteen years ago. And built you to try to stop them.”

There was my destiny again, slapping me in the face. “Built us.”

“Mostly you. I’m pretty sure the rest of us are redundant.” Fang sounded matter-of-fact, but the idea bothered me.