She raised an eyebrow. I resisted looking at Dylan, who was now standing beside me, but I felt my ears get warm as I remembered the way we’d fallen asleep last night, his arm around me.
“Hi,” I said inadequately, and pushed my dusty hair out of my eyes.
“Yeah,” she said dryly. “Once everyone was back home and patched up, I wanted to come find you, to make sure you were okay.”
“I’m always okay,” I said. “How’s everyone else?”
“Pretty good. Your mom has a cast on her arm. Jeb has a cast on his leg. Iggy and Nudge are actually kind of a mess—Nudge needed eighty-seven stitches, and Iggy got a hundred and three. Gazzy has two cracked ribs.”
My eyes widened. I’d left them…
“But they’re okay, really,” Angel went on. “They’ll heal fast. So, what’s the deal down there, anyway?” I quickly caught her up on the eyeless kids guarding the school.
She sighed deeply and shook her head. “When will they learn? Poor kids.”
“Don’t feel too sorry for them. Even without eyes, their aim was still pretty accurate. Hey, can you pick up anything coming from there, thoughtwise?” I asked.
Angel sat very still and closed her eyes. Dylan and I sat down too, but I refused to look at him. After a couple minutes, Angel frowned and opened her eyes.
“I didn’t get anything,” she said. “You’re sure they’re humanoid, not bots of some kind?”
Dylan laughed. “Yeah, like robots, covered with skin and stuff? Science fiction.”
“You have much to learn, Grasshopper,” I said, then turned to Angel. “What say we fly overhead and lure them out. When you see them, you can try to play puppet master and get them to put down their weapons. Sound good?”
Angel nodded, stood up, and brushed off her jeans. “Let’s do it.”
We had to go through the horrible razor wires to get close to the school. It was nerve-racking, and now I was burdened with the image of Nudge and Iggy being all sliced up and stitched back together again. But, pros that we are, we zipped through the obstacle course and emerged over the school. It took a few minutes before the rooftop door opened, and, surprise, three black-hooded guards raced out, weapons raised.
Angel stared at them, willing them to lower their weapons. Once or twice, we saw a couple of them falter and start to lower their rifles, but then it was like an override feature kicked in, and they straightened up and prepared to fire.
“They’ve been brainwashed,” Angel said slowly. “I can barely get through at all, and then only for a second before their programming takes over.”
“Are they human?” I asked.
“Yeah, mostly,” she said. “Combined with something, but I don’t know what. When I got in one’s head for a moment, I saw how it sees. We looked like glowing things in the sky, very bright.”
“Hence, their uncanny aim,” I said. Then I had a thought. “If we’re glowy things in the sky, what happens if they see a falling star?” And with that, I simply closed my wings and dropped down to the roof, extending my wings at the last second to break my fall. The ninja kids paused, hesitating, then quickly raised their weapons, aiming at me point-blank.
I held up my hands in the universal “I’m unarmed and if you shoot me you’re a total unfair jerk” gesture, but only heard safeties clicking off in response.
“Plan B!” I yelled, dropping and rolling to the side. In this case, plan B was “fight like crazed wolverines because plan A went nowhere.” I swung a leg out, fast and hard, and knocked one attacker’s feet right out from under him or her.
Everything got kind of messy after that.
27
ANGEL SHOT UP in the air just as one ninja kid fired at her, but when she landed behind him, the kid’s leg flung out and nailed her in the gut. Coughing, she lunged for the rifle, but again the kid anticipated her position and smashed her knuckles.
Angel’s pretty quick when she needs to be, but the ninja kid was always one step ahead of her. What was the deal with these creepsters?
I was scrambling to my feet to help Angel when one kid sprung at me, weirdly fast, in a series of backflips. I swerved sideways at the last second, but, with lightning-fast reflexes, the kid snap kicked me right under the chin. I was shocked. My arms windmilled and I fell backward, off the building.
Just as my fingers snagged the edge of the roof, I got a glimpse of Dylan’s furious face as he charged the kid who’d kicked me. But I didn’t need Prince Charming. I had already bounced back and flown up on the roof—only to be shot at as soon as I was visible.
My head was ringing, my teeth had slammed together, and I tasted blood.
“Okay, enough!” I snapped, really angry now. I still had a roundhouse kick or two in me, and I was ready to start whaling on these bullies. I surged forward while one took aim, but then I spotted Dylan waving his arms at me to stop.