Please.”

“It isn’t time yet, Ari.” Jeb didn’t look at him, just kept reading printouts of reports from the field.

“It’ll never be time!” Ari exploded, pacing angrily around the room. “You keep telling me it’s almost time, but you never let me take them out! What are we waiting for?”

His wings ached and burned where they were attached, and Ari reached into his pocket for his pills. He downed four, dry, and turned back to his father.

“Be patient,” said Jeb. “You know we need to stick to the plan.” He looked up at Ari. “You’re letting your emotions color your decisions. That isn’t good, Ari. We’ve talked about this.”

“Me!” Ari burst out. “What about you? You know the reason you can’t off her? ‘Cause you’re all wrapped up in her! You love Max! You love Max best! That’s why you won’t let me kill her.”

Jeb didn’t say anything, just looked at him. Ari could tell Jeb was mad and trying not to show it. Just once, Ari wanted to see Jeb show the same love and admiration for him as he did for Max. When Jeb looked at Max, even pictures of Max, his face softened, his eyes grew more intent. When he looked at Ari, it was as if he were looking at anyone.

And Jeb hated the new Max, for some reason. He couldn’t stand to be around her - everyone had noticed it. So Ari was making a big point of hanging out with her as much as possible. Anything to get under Jeb’s skin, make him take notice.

Jeb finally spoke. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. You don’t know the big picture. You have a part to play in this, but you have to do what I tell you. If you don’t think you can do that, I’ll find someone who can.”

Rage ignited inside Ari. His hands gripped at his sides so he wouldn’t reach out and grab Jeb’s throat. He wanted to throttle- the life out of him - almost. Just until Jeb realized he loved Ari and should respect him more.

But right now he had to get out of here. Ari spun and crashed out the door, letting it slam behind him. Outside, he took a running jump off the roof of the trailer - he still wasn’t great at taking off right from the ground. Awkwardly and painfully, he flew high and headed for one of his favorite alone places - the top of a huge tree.

He landed clumsily on a branch and grabbed the trunk to hang on. Furious tears sprang to his eyes. Closing them, he leaned back against the smooth, mottled bark of his tree. It all hurt so much. His wings, how much Jeb loved Max, how Max looked right through Ari…

He remembered how she’d smiled at that pale twig last night when they were eating ice cream. Who was that guy? A nobody. A fragile little human. Ari could rip him in half without even trying.

A low growl rose in his throat as he remembered how Max had kissed that loser on the front porch. Max had kissed him! Like she v\as some normal girl! If that guy only knew - he wouldn’t go near Max in a million years.

But maybe he would. Maybe he would love Max even if he knew she was a mutant freak. Max was special that way. People cared about her. Boys loved her. She was so strong - so strong and beautiful and fierce.

A choked sob burst out of Ari’s chest. Tears streaming down his cheeks, he brought his arm up to his face, pressing his tears into his jacket.

Ari made another muffled sound against his sleeve, and then it all became too much. He felt himself morph full out into an Eraser, and his powerful jaws opened. Feeling his tears streaking through his fur, Ari stifled a sob and clamped his teeth down into his arm. He closed his eyes and hung on tight, making sure no sound escaped. He felt his teeth pierce his jacket, felt them scissor into his skin and muscle. He tasted blood, but he hung on.

Because actually, this felt better.

“I think that’s it. I am freaking amazing. We found it.” I peeped out from behind the yew shrub and looked across the street again. “No wonder you worship me.”

Clearly I had snapped out of my malaise of the previous night. Let’s keep those fourteen-year-old mutant-bird-kid hormone swings coming, eh?

Fang gave me a long-suffering and not very worshipful glance, then looked past me at the modest suburban brick house. It was dinky, old-fashioned, but, given how close it was to DC, probably worth almost half a million dollars. Note to self: Invest in DC real estate. Save up your allowance.

“Really? And that’s the church in the background?”

I nodded. “Yep. So what now?”

He looked at me. “You’re the leader.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, then grabbed his shoulder and marched him across the street with me. I rang the bell before my annoying common sense could kick in.

We waited, and I heard footsteps coming to the door. Then it opened, and Fang and I were staring at the woman who may or may not but really looked like she could have been Iggy’s mother.

“Yes?” she said, and she was - get this - drying her hands on a kitchen towel just like a mom. She was tall and slender, with very pale strawberry-blond hair, fair skin, and freckles. Her eyes were a light sky blue, like Iggy’s, except of course hers actually worked because they hadn’t been experimented on by mad scientists. Mad as in crazy, not as in anger-management classes.

“Can I help you?” she asked.

“Ma’am, we’re selling subscriptions to the Wall Street Journal,” Fang said with a straight face.

Her expression cleared. “Oh, no thanks. We already get the Post.”

“Okay then,” said Fang, and we turned and skedaddled right out of there.

She absolutely, positively, definitely might have been Iggy’s mom. So what now?

“Still smells kind of like explosives,” Iggy muttered to the Gasman.

The Gasman sniffed. “Yeah. I like that smell. Smells like excitement.”

“God knows we could use more of that,” Iggy said.

Gazzy’s footsteps were almost silent on the hard concrete floor, but Iggy could follow him with no effort. Even without Gazzy. Iggy could have found his way to the file room by memory. He bet he could even find his way back to the Institute if you dropped him into a subway tunnel in New York. It almost made up for being completely without any kind of freaking sight at all.

Yeah, right.

“Here we go.” Gazzy soundlessly opened the file room door, and Iggy heard the flick of the light switch. Now he got to stand around like a coatrack while Gazzy did all the work.

“She put those files someplace toward the front of the room,” he reminded the Gasman. “On the right side. Is there a metal cabinet?”

“They’re all metal,” said Gazzy, moving over. He opened one, riffled some pages, then closed it. “I don’t even know what I’m looking for. All the files look alike.”

“None of ‘em are marked Top Secret in big black letters?”

“No.”

Iggy waited while the Gasman opened and riffled through and closed several more file drawers.

“Hey, wait a minute,” Gazzy said. “Huh. This is something. It’s a bunch of files lumped together with a rubber band. They’re a different color, and they look older, beat-up.”

“So read them.”

The sound of the rubber band being pulled off. Pages rustling.

“Whoa.”

“What?” This was the kind of thing that made Iggy crazy: other people getting all the info much sooner be cause they could see. He always had to wait to be told stuff. He hated it.

“These are files on, like, patients,” said the Gasman. “Not students from this school. These are patients, and they’re from the . . . Standish Home for Incurables.”

“What is that? Sounds like a whole bunch of not-fun.”

Gazzy read, and Iggy forced himself to be patient.

“Wait-,” said Gazzy, and Iggy thought, Oh, like I have a lot of freaking choice.

“This is weird. I mean, as far as I can tell, this school used to be, like, an insane asylum, until maybe just two years ago. These files are on patients who used to live here. But why is the headhunter saving them?”

“Maybe he had something to do with them? Did he run the nuthouse? Maybe he was a patient and he killed all the others and opened this school -“

“Can’t tell. There’s a lot of stuff here. Too much to read right now. Let’s show these to Max. I can stuff them under my shirt.”

“Cool. We better be heading back.”

“Yep.”

Iggy followed Gazzy to the stairs. Let’s see, almost lunchtime. Wonder where Tess will sit today - Then Gazzy paused for a second, and Iggy almost ran into him.

“That’s funny,” Gazzy muttered. “There’s a door here I never noticed.”

Iggy heard him step forward and open it. Dank, cool air wafted out at them.

“What is it?”

“A tunnel,” said the Gasman, sounding taken aback. “A long, dark tunnel going farther than I can see. Right under the school.”

I was kind of dreading seeing Sam again at school. Would he blow me off? Had he told anyone about us kissing? Would I get teased and therefore have to kick serious butt?

It was fine. I saw him in class, and he gave me a discreet and yet special smile. No one seemed to be watching him or me to see us interact as gossip fodder. During free period, we sat at a table across from each other and talked and read and studied, and not even the headhunter came down on us.

It was cool. For almost that whole day, I felt like life didn’t totally suck. And that lasted all the way till I got back to Anne’s, so we might be talking new record here.

“A tunnel?” I looked at Gazzy and Iggy in confusion. “Why would there be a tunnel under the school?”

“Excellent question,” the Gasman said, nodding. “Plus the secret files.”

I flipped through the files again. “Nudge? Do a check on the school. Didn’t I see something that said it had been there for, like, twenty years?”

“All the brochures said that,” Fang confirmed. “Plus there’s a plaque in the front hall that says Founded in 1985.”

Nudge got onto the laptop we’d more or less appropriated from Anne. I kept flipping through the files, which were all about patients who had entered the sanitarium and never come out. The files were dated mostly from the last fifteen years or so, until just two years ago. In other people’s lives, ending up at a school that used to be a mental hospital and had a tunnel under it would be very interesting but coincidental.

In our lives, it was like a great big red warning light blinking on and off.

“Huh,” said Nudge. “The school’s Web site says it’s been in that building since 1985. But when I Google it, nothing shows up before two years ago.”

“Did they change the name?” Iggy asked.

Fang shook his head. “Don’t think so - it doesn’t say that anywhere.”

I double-checked the mystery files. “The Standish Home had the exact same address. And look at this office stationery - it has a little drawing of the building.” I showed it to the others. It was a drawing of our school, exactly.

I looked up at the flock. “This can’t be good,” I said, with my natural gift for understatement.

“Should we ask Anne about it?” Iggy asked.

Fang and I met eyes. He gave the tiniest shake of his head,

“What for?” I said. “Either she knows about it and is in on everything, so we don’t want to tip her off that we know, or she only knows what they told her and so can’t help us.”

We were quiet for a few moments, each of us thinking. I heard the TV click on in the kitchen. Anne took out pots and opened the fridge. The news was on, talking about an upcoming cold snap and who had won a recent college football game. Then a male newscaster said, “And in our nation’s capital today, the president made a surprising announcement that has many politicos scratching their heads. Only three days before this year’s budget was supposed to be presented, President Danning announced a stunning revision: He has taken back almost a billion dollars allotted to the military and is channeling it into public education, as well as nationwide shelters for homeless women and children.”

I froze.

Fang and I exchanged looks of disbelief, then I looked at Angel. She was grinning. I heard Total laugh, and then Angel and Total slapped high fives. Well, Total slapped a high four.

I dropped my head and rubbed my temples, which had suddenly started pounding. We had to get out of this town. Next Angel would be making the president ban homework or something.

That night, at exactly 11:05, six windows on the second floor of Anne’s house opened. One by one we jumped out of our respective rooms, fell about eight feet, then snapped our wings open and got some uplift.

The six of us flew through the dark, chilly night. There were no clouds, and the moon shone so brightly that the trees below us cast long shadows.

The bat cave looked satisfyingly like something from a horror movie. Fang had discovered it weeks ago. It was set into an old limestone ridge a couple miles from the house. Overgrown vines, dead with approaching winter, obscured the entrance. We flew through them, trying not to get tangled, and braked to a fast stop inside. The cave was full of stalactites hanging down like teeth from the ceiling, and somewhere in the darkness there was an ominous drip of unseen water. About thirty feet in, the air became thick with the acidic smell of guano, so we stayed near the opening.

“I bet no people have ever been in here,” said Gazzy, sitting cross-legged in the entrance. “They’d have to rock climb just to get up here.”

“I wish we could see what’s farther back,” said Nudge.

“Yeah, me too,” said Iggy brightly.

“Okay, guys,” I said. “Listen, I’ve been thinking, and I really think it’s time for us to move on. This has been a great break, but we’re all rested, healed up, and we should disappear again.”

This announcement was not met with confetti and noisemakers.

“I mean,” I went on in the deafening silence, “Ari knows we’re close by. He attacked us on our way home from school - he probably has cameras trained on Anne’s house. The headhunter has it in for us. Now the weird files from the school, the mystery tunnel - it’s all adding up to an ugly picture.” Not to mention what Angel might he doing to the leader of the free world. I shot her a hard glance, in case she was listening in on my thoughts, and she grinned at me.

“We should clear out of here before all this stuff starts hitting the fan.”

I saw Nudge and Gazzy glance at each other. Angel leaned her head against Iggy’s shoulder. He patted her hair. More silence.

“I mean, maybe this is where we learn to think smart, stay one step ahead of the game instead of having the game bite us in the ass.”

Or maybe this is the time you learn how to stay and make it work.

I scowled. This isn’t a relationship, Voice. It’s a trap, or a test, or at best a surreal side trip on a journey that’s already been fairly mind-blowing.

“It’s just that. . .,” Nudge began, looking at Gazzy. He gave her an encouraging nod. “Well, Thursday’s Thanksgiving. We only have half a day of school Wednesday, and then it’s Thanksgiving.”

“We’ve never had a real Thanksgiving dinner before,” said Angel. “Anne’s going to make turkey and pumpkin pie.”

Frustration made me snide, in that endearing way I had. “Yeah, and that’s worth staying in town for - Anne’s home cooking.”

The younger kids looked abashed, and I felt like a jerk, raining on their parade.

“I’m just - really antsy,” I explained carefully. “I’m twitchy and nervous and feel like I want to be screaming through the sky on the way out of town, you know?”

“We know,” Nudge said apologetically. “It’s just - she’s going to make sweet potatoes with raisins and little marshmallows on top.”

I bit my lip hard in order to keep from saying, “Well, God knows that’s worth sacrificing our freedom for! Why didn’t you mention it earlier?”

Instead I tried a smile that turned into a grimace, and turned around for a minute, as if I were examining the night sky. Through the vines. When I’d gotten more of a grip, I turned back to them.

“Okay, so we’ll stay for Thanksgiving,” I said reluctantly. Their faces lit up, and I felt an anvil settling on my chest. “Those better be some good sweet potatoes.”

“Did the thing pop yet?” Anne peered anxiously over my shoulder into the oven.

“Uh, not yet,” I said. “But it looks like it’s doing okay.” I compared the turkey in the oven to the picture on the stuffing package. “See? It’s the right color.”

“Well, it’s supposed to be done when that thing pops up.”

“I know,” I said reassuringly. I’d heard her the first fifty times.

“What if it’s defective?” Anne looked stricken. “What if it never pops? What if it’s my first turkey and our first Thanksgiving together and it’s awful and dry and we all hate it?”

“Well, no doubt that would be symbolic of our whole lifetime together,” I said solemnly, then made a “kidding” face. “Uh, maybe you could supervise Zephyr with setting the table? He looked a little lost with all the extra silverware.”

Anne looked at me, nodded, glanced again at the oven window, then went into the dining room.

“How’s that stuffing coming?” I asked Nudge.

“Okeydokey,” she said, fluffing it in a pot with a large wooden salad fork. She read the package again. “I think it’s done.”

“Looks good,” I said. “Just set it aside. There’s no way to make sure all this stuff comes out ready at the same time.”

“Cranberry sauce is good to go,” Iggy said, jiggling the can so it slid out with a wet plop into a bowl. “I could have made some from scratch.”

“I know.” I lowered my voice. “You’re the only one here who can cook at all. But let’s just go with the program.”

“I want a drumstick,” said Total, from right under my feet.

“Get in line,” I told him, and went over to Fang. I watched what he was doing for a minute, and he turned to me with an “I dare you to say something” expression.

“You’re an artist,” I managed. He turned back and surveyed the neat rows of marshmallows lined up across the casserole of mashed sweet potatoes.

“We’ve all got crosses to bear,” he said, and went back to work.

I leaned down and looked into the oven again. “Anne? The little white thing popped up. I think it’s ready.”

“Oh, my God!” Anne exclaimed from the other room. She rushed into the kitchen and grabbed some oven mitts. “It popped?” She was lunging for the oven door when suddenly she turned to me. “What if the popper thing is wrong? What if it’s not really ready?”

I looked at her. “Take the turkey out of the oven.”

She breathed out. “Right. Okay.”

Sheesh. Grown-ups.

Fifteen minutes later, we were all sitting around the dining-room table. Everything looked very schmancy. We had a white tablecloth and cloth napkins. Candles were lit. The food was on the table, looking like all the pictures on the packages.

Gazzy was holding his fork and knife upright on the table, and I frowned at him and shook my head. He put them down.

“How about we go around and each give thanks individually?” Anne said. “Ariel? Why don’t you go first?”

“Uh .. .” Angel looked at me, and I smiled tightly.

Just do your best, sweetie, and don’t give anything away. She gave me a tiny nod.

“I’m thankful for my family,” she said, gesturing at all of us. “I’m thankful I have a dog. I’m thankful I have Max to take care of me.” And then, as if realizing that Anne was sitting right there. Angel added, “And I’m thankful that we’ve had this good time here. I really like this place.”

Anne smiled at her. “Thank you. Now Zephyr?”

“Um, I’m thankful for all this food,” said Gazzy. “And you know, my family. And being here.”

“Krystal?”

“I’m thankful for food and my brothers and sisters,” said Nudge. “And I’m thankful I have big brown eyes and long lashes. I’m thankful that we could stay here for a while. I’m thankful for MTV. And gummy worms.”

“All right,” said Anne. “Jeff?”

“Uh, what Zephyr said.” Iggy’s fingers drummed on the table. “Fnick’s turn.”

Fang looked like he’d rather be at the dentist. “Me too. Family, food. Place to stay.” His dark eyes met mine and his face flushed, like he was having one of those heat attacks.

My turn. I was thankful for stuff- but not anything I wanted to mention in front of Anne. Silently I was thankful for all of us being together and being healthy. I was so thankful we had Angel back, and that we were free and not at the School. I was thankful we weren’t being attacked by Erasers at this very minute. Bad things had happened to us, could happen again, but weren’t happening now, and I wasn’t stupid enough to lake it for granted.

“Uh, I’m thankful that we’ve had this time here,” I said. “It’s been really great. And, you know, thankful for my family, and for having plenty of food.”

Anne paused, as if waiting to see if anyone would add anything. “My turn, then. Thank you all for helping make our Thanksgiving meal. I never could have done it myself.”

You ain’t whistling Dixie, I thought.

“To me, it’s even more meaningful that we all worked together to make our dinner,” Anne continued. “I’ve never had children, never been that domestic. But these last weeks with you here, well, I’ve gotten a real idea of everything that I’ve been missing. I like the fact that my life is centered around yours. Amazingly, I like having a household of children.”

Total licked my leg under the table, and I almost yelped, then heard him chuckle softly.

“It’s chaotic, and tons of work, and expensive, and I get called to the school, and every night I fall into bed completely exhausted and know that I have to do it all again the next day.” She looked around at us and smiled. “And now I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

As speeches went, it was a pretty good one, I’ll give her that.

“So I sincerely hope that this Thanksgiving is only the first in a long line of Thanksgivings we’ll share together.” Again she smiled at us, letting her gaze linger on Angel. “Because I would like to adopt all of you.”

‘Yes, let’s give thanks for what we have by leaving it,” the Gasman muttered.

“Gazzy, I told you - you don’t have to come,” I said.

“Of course I have to come,” he said, tying his sneak-srs - new ones that Anne had bought.

“I just can’t believe it,” said Angel, bouncing a little on my bed.

“It’s what we’ve all waited for,” said Nudge, sounding wistful. She looked over at Iggy quickly. “I’m glad it’s happened to you, Iggy. I mean, it would be nice if it happened to all of us, but for the first one, I’m glad it was -” She stopped, as if realizing she was running on.

“Thanks.” Iggy was sitting tensely, shoes and coat already on. His face was flushed, and his long, slender fingers drummed nervously on his knees.

Last night, after some of our Thanksgiving bloat had eased, Fang and I had told the others about possibly finding Iggy’s parents. They’d all been stunned.

“Do you want to go see them?” I’d asked Iggy.

“Yeah, of course!” Iggy had said, then his eyebrows came together. “I’m not sure.”

“What?” Nudge shrieked. “How can you not be sure?”

“It’s what we’ve talked about before,” Iggy said, looking sell-conscious. “I mean, I’m blind now. I have wings. I’m a weird, mutant hybrid, and they’ve never seen anything like me. Maybe they would want the original, all-human me, but…”

That was exactly what I was thinking. Personally, I thought that even if we found info on my parents, I probably wouldn’t want to go ring their doorbell. And they probably wouldn’t want me to either.

“I understand.” I said. “But it’s up to you. We’ll support you, whatever you decide.”,. “Let me sleep on it.” Iggy had said.

“No prob,” I’d said.

So he’d thought about it and decided to go, and here we were.

Fang opened my bedroom window wide. Nudge clambered onto the windowsill and launched herself into the air. The sun lit her tawny wings as she caught the wind and rose into the sky. One by one the rest of us followed, with me going last.

It felt weird to be flying out in the middle of the day, but today was special. Today we were taking Iggy to see his parents, his real parents.

I had no idea what would happen. Today could be filled with unbelievable joy or tearful heartbreak. Even if it ended with happiness for Iggy, the rest of us would get the heartbreak. Because we would be telling him good-bye. Which for me was too painful to begin to comprehend.

We hadn’t really talked about Anne’s offer to adopt us. As far as I was concerned, it wasn’t even worth thinking about. I wondered if any of the younger kids felt differently, and guessed I’d find out sooner or later. Probably sooner.

After twenty minutes of flying, we were across the street from the house Fang and I had gone to several days before. It was the day after Thanksgiving, so we hoped they would both be home.

“You ready?” I asked Iggy, taking his hand in mine. The only way I could get through this was to not think about the bigger picture. I could take only one second at a time.

Iggy nodded stiffly, his sightless eyes staring straight ahead, as if by looking hard enough, he could make his parents’ house come into view. He leaned down to whisper in my ear. “I’m scared.”

I squeezed his hand and whispered back, “If you weren’t, I’d know you were nuts. But I think if you don’t do this, you’ll wonder about it forever.”

“I know. I know I have to do it. But.. .”

He didn’t have to say any more. Fourteen years ago, his parents had lost a perfect little baby. Now Iggy was almost six feet tall and blind, and “genetic hybrid” was the kind description.

He shook his head and put his shoulders back. “Let’s do this thing.”

The six of us crossed the street. It had clouded over a bit, and the wind was cold. I pulled Angel’s coat tighter around her chin and tucked in her scarf. She looked up at me solemnly, her blue eyes expressing the same hopes and fears we were all feeling.

I rang the doorbell. We were wound so tight it sounded like an enormous gong. A few moments later, the door opened, and the same woman as before looked out at me. Her brow furrowed slightly, as if she remembered my face but not from where.

“Uh, hello … ma’am,” I began, in that smooth handle-everything manner I have. “I saw you on TV, where you said you’d lost your son?”

A look of sadness crossed her face. “Yes?”

I stepped back so she could see Iggy. “I think this is him.”

Okay, so I’m not known for subtlety.

For a second the woman frowned, about to get angry at me for yanking her chain, but then she looked at Iggy and her frown changed to a look of puzzlement

Now that I saw them both together, the similarities were even more obvious. They had the same coloring, same body type, same cheekbones and chin. The woman blinked. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. She put her hand to her chest and stared at Iggy, I gave Iggy’s hand another squeeze - he had no idea what was going on and just had to wait in painful suspense.

Then a man appeared. The woman stepped back and motioned silently to Iggy. Though Iggy looked very much like the woman, he did share some features with the man as well. They had the same nose, the same shape mouth. The man stared at Iggy, then looked around at all of us.

“Wha . . .,” he said, looking stunned.

“We saw you on TV,” I explained again. “We think this might be the son you lost, fourteen years ago.” I put my arm through Iggy’s and pulled him forward a little bit. “We call him Iggy. But I think his last name is really Griffiths, like yours.”

Iggy’s fair face flushed, and he lowered his head. I could practically feel the pounding of his heart.

“James?” the woman whispered, starting to reach out to Iggy. She stopped and looked at her husband. “Tom - is this James?” she asked wonderingly.

The man swallowed visibly. He stepped back from the door. “Please, come in, all of you.”

I started to refuse - we never went into strange places where we might get trapped or caught. But I realized that this was where Iggy might stay, forever, and if I thought it was a trap, then we better get the heck out of here.

So I swallowed hard and said, “Okay.”

As the others filed into the house, I shot a glance at Angel to see if she looked at all concerned or suspicious. But she just walked right in, so, with a tight feeling in my chest, I followed her.

The inside of the house was nice, but not as fancy or big as Anne’s. I looked around, thinking, This might be where Iggy will live from now on. He might eat dinner at that table and listen to that TV. It was starting to seem as if we’d fallen down the rabbit hole, you know? Weird, half-wolf mutants chasing us? Totally believable. The idea that Iggy might be moving into a normal existence? Totally mind-blowing.

“Um, sit down,” the woman said, watching Iggy.

He hesitated until he felt me sit down, then he sat next to me.

“I don’t know where to begin,” said the woman. She sat on Iggy’s other side, and she finally seemed to get it that he wasn’t looking around, wasn’t meeting her eyes.

“Um, I’m blind,” said Iggy, his fingers plucking nervously at the hem of his sweatshirt. “They, uh - well, I can’t see anymore.”

“Oh, dear,” said the woman, looking distressed. The man sat across from us, and I saw a look of pain on his face.

“We don’t know what happened,” he said, leaning forward. “You - our son was taken out of this house fourteen years ago. You were - he was only four months old. There was no trace. I hired detectives. We -” He stopped, as if the memory was too painful for him to go on.

“It’s a long, weird story,” I said. “And we’re not one hundred percent positive. But it really does look like Iggy’s the baby you lost.”

The woman nodded and then took Iggy’s hand. “I feel he is. You might not be positive, but I feel it. I can tell. This is my son.”

I couldn’t believe it. How many times had we had this fantasy? Now it was all coming true for Iggy.

“I have to say - I think you’re right.” The man cleared his throat. “He - it sounds funny, but he really looks just the same as he did when he was a baby.”

Any other time, Gazzy and Fang would have been all over that, riding Iggy and teasing him mercilessly. But they sat there stone-faced. It was starting to sink in, what was happening, what was about to happen.

“I know!” Mrs. Griffiths sat up suddenly. “James had a small red birthmark on his side, toward the back. I asked the doctor about it, but he said it was fine.”

“Iggy has a birthmark,” I said slowly. I’d seen it a hundred times.

Iggy wordlessly pulled up his shirt on the left side. Mrs. Griffiths immediately saw the birthmark. She gasped and put her hand over her mouth.

“Oh, my God!” she said, tears starting to run down her cheeks. “Oh, God. James! It’s James!” In the next moment, she had leaned over and pulled Iggy into a tight hug. One hand stroked his strawberry-blond hair. Her eyes were closed, and her tears left a wet spot on Iggy’s shoulder. “James, James,” she whispered. “My baby.”

My own throat was closing up. I glanced over and saw that Angel and Nudge were both fighting tears. Jeez. It was turning into a real weep-fest.

I cleared my throat. “So, well, you think this is James, the son you lost?”

The man, tears in his own eyes, nodded. “That’s my son,” he said, his voice breaking.

I hate stuff like this, where everyone’s overwhelmed and weeping with joy and emotions are splashing all over the place. Ugh.

“Wh- who are you?” Mr. Griffiths asked me, as his wife pulled back to look at Iggy’s face. He gestured at all of us.

“We’re - friends,” I said. “We - were taken too. But you’re the first parents we’ve found.” I hadn’t meant to say that. What was wrong with me? Usually I was much stealthier and more secretive.

Mr. and Mrs. Griffiths looked even more surprised and concerned.

“So, uh, what now?” I asked briskly, rubbing my palms on my jeans.

The two grown-ups shot quick glances at each other. Mr. Griffiths gave his wife a subtle nod, and she turned to me. “James belongs with us,” she said firmly. “I thought I’d lost him forever. Now that we have him back, I’m never letting him go. Do you hear me?” She looked positively fierce, and I held up my hands in the universal “Whoa, Nelly” gesture.

“No one’s going to try to stop you. I think he’s James too. But you know he’s blind.”

“I don’t care,” said Mrs. Griffiths, looking at Iggy with love. “I don’t care if there are a million problems. We can handle anything, if we have him back.”

Okay, that might cover the whole wing wrinkle….

“Iggy? Do you want to stay?” I asked.

His face flushed again, but underneath his reserve I saw the hint of an unbelieving happiness. My heart squeezed painfully, and I thought, I’m losing him.

Slowly Iggy nodded. “I guess this is where I belong.”

I patted his arm. “Yeah,” I said softly.

“Do you have - things?” asked Mrs. Griffiths. “We’ll move a bigger bed into what used to be your room. I haven’t changed anything in there - just in case you came back to us someday.” She touched his face gently. “It’s a miracle. I can’t believe it. If this is a dream, I hope I never wake up.”

Iggy smiled faintly. “I don’t have much of anything, actually,” he said. He held up the small backpack that we’d filled with a few crucial supplies from Anne’s house.

“Fine,” said Mrs. Griffiths. “We can get you anything you need.”

Spoken like a real parent.

And that’s how one of us found his real parents. I won’t bore you with the whole heartrending good-bye scene. Suffice it to say that mucho tears were shed. There was much going on in the “lamenting” department. I really don’t want to talk about it.

Okay, I’ll give you one little insight. I’d grown up with Iggy, known him my whole short, horrible life. I’d known him back when he could see, helped him learn how to fly-He was less obnoxious than Fang, quieter than Nudge, and a better cook than any of us. He was the Gasman’s best friend. And yeah, friends move away, and it’s sad and then you get over it. But there were only five people in the entire freaking world that I cared about and trusted, and I had just lost one of them. I’d had to walk away knowing that Iggy was standing in the doorway as if he could actually watch us leave, watch us leave him behind forever.

Basically, I felt like my heart had been stomped on by a soccer team wearing cleats.

But enough about me. I said I didn’t want to talk about it.

Anne was quite the panicky mother hen about losing one of her chicks, especially since we wouldn’t tell her squat about it.

All weekend she made hysterical phone calls and hovered over us, alternately begging, pleading, crying, and threatening. But all we would say was that he had left because he wanted to and he was safe. End of discussion.

Except Anne didn’t understand what “end of discussion” meant. Saying “end of discussion” really only works if the other person actually shuts up about it. Anne didn’t.

By Monday morning, our nerves were all stretched pretty thin. For one thing, I felt like my left arm had been cut off, because Iggy was gone. I’d found Nudge crying in her room twice; and Gazzy seemed practically catatonic without his favorite partner in crime. Angel didn’t try to be stoic but climbed into my lap sobbing. Which meant that Total joined us.

“I’m such a marshmallow,” he sobbed, tears making wet spots on his fur.

It took a lot to make any one of us cry. Losing Iggy was plenty. So with all the tears and heartache and sleeplessness, and then Anne riding me, trying to find out where Iggy was, by Monday morning I was pretty much ready to snap.

I mean, I was happy for him. Way happy. But more than sad for the rest of us. And knowing that this could happen again, to any of us, made me feel like the Titanic, plowing right toward an iceberg.

“I’m going to report Jeff missing at school,” Anne told us as we filed out to the car.

“Okay,” I said wearily, knowing it wouldn’t help. We all piled into her Suburban and she headed to school, back as rigid as a steel pipe.

“I’m going to call the police,” she said, looking at me in the mirror.

“Whatever,” I said, ready to explode. “Why don’t you put his face on a milk carton? He’s just another one of those missing kids, isn’t he? This place is full of them.”

Anne’s face in the mirror looked taken aback, almost - was it afraid? Interestingly, after that she dropped it.

Which meant what?

“Right! You all have your orders,” Ari barked. He rolled his shoulders under his black leather coat. Another Eraser Was driving, and twelve more crouched in the back of the van. “We go in, we grab the mutants, we clear out. Like surgery, right?”

“Right,” several Erasers muttered.

Take the mutants alive, his Voice reminded him.

“Remember - take the mutants alive,” Ari said. He grinned, looking forward to what was about to happen. “And no one touches Max! She’s mine.” He waited for the Voice to jump in with more advice, but it was silent.

He rubbed his hands together, already itching to feel his fists connect with Max’s face. Sure, Dad had said to bring Max back alive - there was more he wanted to learn about her. But the only thing Ari wanted to learn was what size coffin she’d need. He knew how he’d play it: Despite his orders, another Eraser had “gone crazy,” killing everything in sight. Before Ari could stop him, he’d ripped out Max’s throat. Then Jeb would kill that Eraser, Max would be dead, and Ari would be sitting pretty.

There were no downsides.

On the other hand . . . what if Max “disappeared”? What if Ari took Max and stashed her somewhere where no one could find her and she couldn’t escape? He thought he knew a place. If Max was trapped, if she had no hope of escaping, and if Ari was the only one keeping her alive with food and water - then she’d get used to him, right? She’d be grateful to him, even. It would be just the two of them, with no one telling them what to do. They would become friends. Max would like him. They could play cards. She could read to him. They could play outside.

This was sounding more and more like the best idea he’d had all year. And he knew a good place to take her. Someplace she couldn’t escape from. That is, once he’d cut her wings off.

“I have one more announcement,” said Mr. Pruitt, staring balefully at the entire student body. It was Monday-morning assembly, and we were all trapped in the school auditorium, listening to the headhunter spew bile at us. At least it was equal-opportunity bile - not aimed at just the flock. So far he’d vented his feelings about how messy we left the lunchroom, how we thieving little punks had stolen school supplies, and how he doubted our ability to use the restrooms like normal human beings.

The man definitely had issues.

“One of our students has gone missing,” Mr. Pruitt said, seeming to stare right at me.

I put on an innocent “Who, moi?” expression.

“Jeff Walker,” the headhunter went on. “From ninth grade. Though he was a new student, I’m sure you all know whom I’m talking about. We’re calling in a special detective unit,” he said, narrowing his eyes at me. I kept my face carefully blank. “But if any of you have seen him, or know anything, or have any information whatsoever, come forward now. If we later find out that you did know something and did not come forward, it will be very bad for you. Am I making myself clear?”

Lots of confused nods.

Many kids turned to look at me, Fang, and the rest of the flock because we were Iggy’s “siblings.” I realized I should look upset and worried, and tried to change gears.

“Dismissed,” spit the headhunter, making it sound like a terminal sentence.

I leaped up, anxious to get out of the crowded auditorium. In the hallway, my friend J.J. caught up to me.

“I’m so sorry, Max,” she said, looking concerned. “What happened?”

Amazingly I had no story prepared. In my twisted freak-show world, people appearing out of nowhere and disappearing into nothingness was kind of everyday fare. Somehow, the idea that Iggy’s absence would actually upset and concern people other than Anne had never occurred to me.

Okay, I’d dropped this ball. I admit it.

“Uh . . .,” I said, stalling. I didn’t have time to think through all the possible stories to see if they had loopholes or bear traps further down the line. Several other kids crowded around us.

“I can’t talk about it,” I said. And just like that, thinking about Iggy’s really being gone made actual, unfake tears come to my eyes. I let ‘em rip. “I mean . . . I. . . just can’t talk about it right now.” I added a tiny sniffle and was rewarded with concerned understanding.

“Okay, everyone,” J.J. said, waving her arms. “She can’t talk about it. Let’s back off, give her some space.”

“Thanks,” I told her. “I still can’t believe he’s really gone.” Completely true.

“I’m so sorry,” said J.J. “If only they had taken my brother instead.”

She actually made me smile, just like a real friend.

“I’ll see you later,” she said, heading toward her locker. “Let me know if I can help - if you need anything.”

I nodded. “Thanks.”

The other kids were still looking at me, and paranoia made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Sitting in the auditorium, kids following me to ask me questions - I was way too twitchy to deal with any of it.

I turned and strode off in the other direction. But in the next hall, more kids looked up and, after glancing at one another, started toward me. Then the headhunter turned the corner. He hadn’t seen me yet and was barking at other students. It was only moments before I would come under his fire. This was feeling bad.

I reversed direction quickly and headed down a third hall, and then I saw a door marked Teachers’ Lounge. I’d never been in there. I pushed the door open and ducked in, already preparing my story about being lost.

Still facing the closed door, I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. Then I turned around, ready to start sucking up to any teacher who might be in here.

There were quite a few teachers here, I observed with surprise. Including a bunch I’d never seen before. One was standing at the front of the room, as if telling a story, and others were grouped at tables. I quickly glanced at their faces, looking for someone I knew. Oh, good, Mr. Lazzara.

But - my heart took a beat and froze. These were teachers, in the teachers’ lounge. Why were three of them pulling out Tasers?

Because they were whitecoat plants, ready to capture a mutant bird kid? I’m just guessing here.

In a split second I opened that door and whirled to run -

- right into the headhunter.

His ugly face split in an unholy grin, and he grabbed both my arms with an iron grip. “Leaving so soon? Surely you’re not tired of our hospitality,” he snarled. He shoved me back into the teachers’ lounge as I wrenched my arms free.

“Why, what’s happening?” Mr. Lazzara asked in surprise.

“Keep away!” one of the other teachers barked at him.

I backed up and looked at the headhunter, disappointed but not surprised to see him pulling a plastic cord out of his pocket, no doubt intended for my wrists.

“I always knew there was a reason I hated you,” I said tightly. “Besides just your personality, I mean.” Then I leaped into the air, aiming a kick at his head. I caught him off guard and whipped his head sideways, but he sprang up and came for me. I jumped onto a table, grabbed the light fixture hanging from the ceiling, and swung fast, hard kicks at everyone coming toward me.

Guess what, Voice? I thought. This time I’m believing what I’m seeing.

The headhunter grabbed for me again. “Oh, no you don’t, you wretched little blister,” he spit at me. “You’re my prize, my reward for suffering through day after day of ignorant, pestilent little swine.”

“I miss the gold-watch tradition, myself,” I said, then I spun out of the way, kicking him hard as he lunged for me across the table. He fell and slid sideways, knocking down some other teachers, including the ones with Tasers. Note to self: Crack up later.

Some teachers were huddled against a back wall, looking terrified. Michael Lazzara looked as though he was about to throw himself into the action on the good-guy side. But the bad-guy teachers were closing in on me from all angles, pointing their Tasers at me. I didn’t know who they were or who they worked for, but a good general rule of thumb is to avoid people with electric stun guns.

With a huge jump, I cleared several teachers and crashed through the door into the hallway. I wasn’t sure exactly which classrooms the flock would be in at this time, so I just streaked down the hall, shouting at the top of my lungs.

“Bandada! Bezheet! See-chass! Move, move, move!”

I ran as fast as I could down both classroom halls, yelling, and saw Nudge and then Fang burst out of their rooms. I felt both frantic and incredibly pissed: Here was the proof I’d needed all along to convince the others to leave before now.

Other kids were streaming into the hallway, wondering what all the commotion was. Angel! Thank God, there she was, racing out of her classroom in front of me. She looked back, nodded, and poured on the speed toward the exit.

“Max! In here!” I saw Sam twenty feet ahead, standing in the doorway of an empty classroom. He motioned urgently with his hand. “Come on! Through here!”

But was he starting to look kind of Erasery around the edges - teeth a tiny bit too long, hair a shade thicker? I couldn’t tell and couldn’t take a chance.

“You can trust me!” he said, as I saw the Gasman rush out of his room, almost running into Nudge.

Sam stepped forward as if to intercept me, but I made one of my famous split-second decisions. I plowed right through him, knocking him to the ground.

“The thing is,” I said, “I can’t trust anybody!”

“Max!” Fang shouted, standing at the exit doors. The four of us raced toward him, and together we burst through to the parking lot. Behind us, the whole school was in chaos - kids filling the halls, people screaming, yelling, running around.

Looks like school’s out, I thought.

“Up and away!” I shouted, hearing a car’s engine race. The rest of the flock took to the air just as I realized the headhunter’s fancy car was screeching toward me at full speed. He was going to run me down - if he could.

I ran straight at the car and, right before it crashed into me, I jumped into the air. As my wings gathered wind beneath them, I kicked hard, shattering the headhunter’s windshield. Then I was ten, fifteen, twenty feet in the air, looking down.

Within seconds the headhunter had lost control of his car, and it squealed, sliding sideways right into several parked cars.

“Cool!” said the Gasman.

Pruitt spilled out of his wrecked car, his face almost purple with insane rage. ‘This isn’t the end of this!” he screamed, shaking his fist up at me in time-honored custom. “You’re accidents, stains, mistakes! And we’ll get you!”

“If I had a nickel for every time I’ve heard that,” I said, shaking my head.

As we rose higher, teachers poured out of the school, pushing aside screaming kids, who cowered and tried to hide. Some of the teachers were clearly working for Pruitt, while others looked terrified and confused.

Then I saw an all-too-familiar gray van careen into the parking lot, spitting gravel as it leaned dangerously around a corner. Sure, let’s add some Erasers to the mix! The more the merrier! Were they in league with Pruitt or had things just gotten interesting?

“Go!” I said to the flock, and surged upward as fast as I could. Ari and some of the other Erasers could fly, but we had a head start. I saw Ari jump out of the van, barking orders, swearing, watching us escape.

“Later much” I said, and we soared into the sky, right into the weak autumn sun.

“Where to now?” the Gasman asked. We hovered in midair, our wings beating rhythmically, just hard enough to keep us in place. We’d kept a steady lookout, but so far no one seemed to be after us.

“We need to go back to Anne’s,” said Angel.

“Yeah, just real quick, to get some stuff,” Nudge agreed.

“Actually,” I said, “I hid our packs in the bat cave a few days ago. Just in case something like this happened. And I didn’t forget to lift one of these,” I added, wagging one of Anne’s countless credit cards in front of them. “She’ll never miss it.”

“Great,” said the Gasman in relief. “That was really smart, Max.”

“That’s why they pay me the big bucks,” I said. It was taking everything I had to not yell I told you so! But now wasn’t the time. Later, when we were safe, then I would rub it in.

“We still have to go back to Anne’s,” Angel said urgently.

“Ange, we just can’t take the risk of saying good-bye,” I said.

“No,” Angel said. “Total’s there.”

Oh, crap. I took two seconds to judge the likelihood of Angel leaving Total behind, which was none, and then Fang and I looked at each other and sighed.

“We’ll try,” I said, and saw relief flood her face.

“Oh, thanks, Max,” she said. “We’ll make it fast, I promise.”

It took three minutes to fly to Anne’s big, comfortable farmhouse, where we’d lived for almost two months. Where at least some of us had felt relatively happy and safe.

Where at least thirty Erasers were swarming over the land, the orchards, out of the bam, all around the house.

Jeezum, that was fast.

Meanwhile, Angel was peering down at the yard, looking through the trees in the orchard.

Please don’t let Total be snoozing in front of the fire, I prayed silently. Let him be paying attention.

‘There!” said Angel, pointing over to the pond. Sure enough, Total’s small black body was racing excitedly around the edge of the water. An Eraser was chasing him, but Total was amazingly fast on his short legs.

Angel tucked her wings in and dived.

“Fang!” I said, and Fang immediately went after her.

The sound of an engine made me turn, and I saw Ari’s van tearing up the long driveway.

Over by the pond, Angel was rocketing down. Erasers nearby were shouting for backup and starting to run toward her. Fang was right on her tail, ready to attack if necessary.

“Total!” Angel shouted. “Come!”

Instantly Total raced toward her, and when he’d gotten up speed, he bunched his small muscles and leaped into the air with all his might. I saw him sail upward as if he’d been shot out of a cannon, higher than any dog had ever leaped. Fifteen, twenty, almost thirty feet into the air, the height of a three-story building. Angel swooped down, scooped him into her arms, then surged upward, her beautiful, pure white wings working with hard, smooth precision.

The Erasers roared below. Fang took Total from Angel, making a “yuck” face as Total licked him happily. They rejoined me, Nudge, and the Gasman.

“About time you got here,” Total said, wiggling against Fang. “I thought I was going to have to bite some ankles!”

“Okay, guys - it’s time to get the flock outta here.” I’d been wanting to say that for ages. “Wait -,” said Nudge, watching Anne’s yard.

“No, we have to go,” I said more strongly. “Ari and the rest will be after us any second. Let’s get a head start.” For once.

“There’s Anne,” said Nudge, pointing.

Sure enough, she was on the front lawn, striding toward an Eraser. Not something most humans would do. She shouted at Ari, waving her arms angrily, not afraid of him.

A nondescript black sedan pulled to a stop by the house. A black sedan. What a cliche, I thought acidly.

The door opened and Jeb Batchelder stepped out. Wonderful. His arrival added the perfect touch of anguish that had been missing from this picture.

Jeb walked up to Ari, who was now yelling back at Anne.

Anne, get out of there, I thought, unable to look away. True, I didn’t think she was totally on the up-and-up, but she didn’t deserve to get her throat ripped out. She was holding her own, though, even poking a finger into Ari’s chest. With a loud snarl, he grabbed her hand and twisted, making her cry out. Jeb smashed Ari’s hand away. Anne stepped aside, rubbing her wrist, looking furious.

Jeb pushed Ari, forcing him to back up. Ari looked crazed with fury, his jaws snapping, beady red eyes burning. He kept pointing at us, high up in the air, and seemed to be arguing with Jeb. I was torn - I wanted to race out of there, put as much distance between us and the Erasers as possible. But, as usual, seeing Jeb created all sorts of mixed emotions. Rage being the primary one.

Jeb, Anne, the Erasers, Pruitt, the other teachers. They were all parts of a bigger picture, but right now the picture looked as if it had been painted by drunken monkeys - nothing added up.

“Look, we just have to go,” I began, when a voice behind us said, “Yo.”

In case you’re wondering, it is in fact possible to jump a foot in the air when you’re already hovering in the air. Gasping, heart pounding, I whipped around and gaped.

“Oh, my God! Iggy!”

“Iggy! Iggy!” All of us were shouting and trying to rush him at once. He made a wry Iggy-face that I interpreted as deep happiness to be here. I edged closer and tried to hug him without getting our wings tangled. We managed sort of an arm’s length air kiss. The boys slapped high fives with him, and Nudge and Angel managed air kisses too.

“I went by the school,” he said. “They seem to be having a bad day.”

I gave a dry laugh. “Yeah, you could say that.”

“Do I hear a ruckus down below?” Iggy asked.

“You do indeed,” I said, then I realized that he was here. “Oh, no - Iggy What happened?”

“Well,” he said, his face grim, “they didn’t mind the wings. In fact, they loved the wings. Especially since they got eight different publishers and magazines into a bidding war for the all-exclusive rights to my life story, complete with photographs and interviews with the freak himself.” His voice was indescribably bitter.

“Oh, no,” I said. “They were going to tell people?”

“They were going to turn me into a sideshow freak,” Iggy said. “I mean, a really public one.”

I beat back the rush of joy I felt at having him here and let my sympathy get some air.

“I’m so sorry, Ig,” I said, reaching out to rub his shoulder. “I thought they were the real thing.”

“That’s just it,” he said, anger showing on his face. “Maybe they were. I don’t know. Maybe they weren’t. But they felt like the real thing, and the real thing wanted to make money off me.”

I couldn’t help reaching out to touch him again. “I’m so sorry, Iggy, really. But I’m so happy you’re back.”

“I’m glad to be back too,” said Iggy. “Even before they went nuts on me, I just missed you guys too much.”

“This is great, and we’ll have a group hug later,” Fang interrupted, “but can we pay attention to what’s happening below?”

Oh, right. Way down below, Jeb, Ari, and Anne were still shouting at one another. Teams of Erasers were starting to report back, since obviously we weren’t on the premises. Several of them shaded their eyes to look up at us, five hundred feet in the air.

“Hmm,” I said. “Something’s missing down below. Some important puzzle piece. Oh, I know: It’s me. Hang on, guys.” I folded my wings and aimed myself downward.

I shot toward the ground at two hundred miles an hour. It was a total rush, over in a split second, and then I was braking, snapping my wings out to catch the air. I began running before my feet hit the ground, and came to a stop fifteen feet from the Terrible Trio.

Aware of the Erasers at my back, I walked up to Anne, Jeb, and Ari.

“Well, looks like the gang’s all here,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest. “Anne, meet Jeb. Jeb, meet Anne. Oh, sorry. . . looks like you two already know each other really well!”

“Hello, sweetheart,” Jeb said, gazing at me as if I held the secret to the world. Oh, wait, I guess I did.

“I’m not your sweet anything,” I said.

“No - you’re mine,” Ari spit, pacing angrily.

“In your nightmares,” I said, sounding bored, and he lunged at me, snarling. Jeb shot out an arm and held him back. Anne looked at me with concern.

“Are you all right?” she said. “I got a call from the school -“

“I bet you did,” i said. “Their school emergency plan went to heck in a handbasket. Well, they were too rigid anyway.” I turned back to Jeb. “What do you want? Every time you show up, my life nose-dives. And believe me, it’s not that far till I hit rock bottom.”

“You got that right.” Ari sneered.

“Shut up, dog boy,” I said. I felt sorry for the seven-year-old Ari who’d been victimized. This creature shared no part of him.

“Max, as always, I’m here to help,” said Jeb, channeling sincerity. “This. . . experiment isn’t working out. I’m here to help you get to the next phase.”

“You’re out of bounds here,” said Anne angrily. “This is my situation.”

Jeb’s anger flared. “You don’t know what you’re doing. Max is a multimillion-dollar, finely tuned instrument. You’ve almost ruined her. She’s not a lapdog! She’s a warrior - the best there is. I made her what she is and I won’t let you destroy her.”

“Whoa,” I said, holding my hands up. “This is getting a little dysfunctional, even for me. I have an idea: How about the three of you take flying leaps off a cliff? That would solve most of our problems right there.”

“That would suit me just fine,” Ari snarled. “Then it would be just you and me.”

“Please. The way you fly? There wouldn’t be enough left to fill a garbage bag.”

He lunged at me again. Both Anne and Jeb stopped him.

“I’m going now,” I said, “and I’m going to stay gone. If I see any one of you again, I’ll take you out. And that’s a euphemism, by the way.”

Jeb sighed and shook his head. “It’s not that simple, Max. There’s nowhere for you to go. This whole planet is one big maze, and you’re the rat running through it.”

My eyes narrowed coldly. “That’s what you think, You and your psycho-scientist pals can play out Act Three by yourselves. As far as I’m concerned, this experiment, this training scenario, is over. Way over. Don’t come knocking again. I mean it.”

“The decision, unfortunately, isn’t yours to make,” Jeb said patiently. “But you don’t have to believe me. You can ask my boss, the one who’s pulling all the strings.”

“Jeb . ..,” Anne said, a warning tone in her voice.

“Yeah, right.” I sneered. “Call him on your cell phone. I’ll wait.”

“I don’t have to. She’s right here,” Jeb said with a gentle smile.

Well, the only other “she” around was Anne.

She was his boss, the one who was running things.

The one who was running me.

I should have known.

Maybe, deep down inside, I had known. Maybe that was why I had never been able to trust Anne, to relax. Or maybe that had just been my total paranoia coming in handy again.

“You’re the lead dog?” I asked Anne, then shook my head. “No, I can’t even pretend to be surprised. Nothing you guys throw at me could surprise me anymore.”

“Let’s put that to the test,” Ari said tightly. His whole body was rigid, his eyes bloodshot. His ragged claws were curling up into his palms over and over.

“Down, boy,” I said, expecting him to snap at any second.

“It’s not like that, Max,” said Anne, her face sincere and concerned. “I wanted to be part of your becoming. You’re not just an experiment. To me, you’re almost like a daughter.” Her eyes were warm and pleading. I thought of all the nights she’d tucked us in, the many disastrous attempts to put dinner on the table. How she’d bought us clothes, books, art supplies. She’d held Nudge when she cried, she’d patched up Gazzy’s skinned knees.

You know what? I’d done all that stuff too. And I was better at it. And, bonus, I wasn’t evil.

“I’m guessing that almost is the operative word here,” I said. “Part of my becoming? Congratulations. You’re part of my becoming pissed off.” I realized how crushed Gazzy, Nudge, and Angel would be when they found out Anne was in this mess even deeper than the spawn of Satan, Jeb himself. Suddenly I’d had enough, more than enough. I shook my head, subtly loosening my wing muscles. “You can’t even make decent cookies,” I told her, and then jumped straight up into the air, the way we’d practiced so many times. With one bound, I was over their heads, and then I unfurled my wings and pushed down with all my might. I almost clipped them - I have a thirteen-foot wingspan. I soared up to where my flock was waiting.

“Vamonos,” I said. “There’s no one here but people to leave.”

That would have been too easy, right?

Within seconds, Ari’s control broke. Even as I was speeding away, I heard him shouting orders. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw a swarm of heavy, clumsy Erasers rising darkly into the air. Only - hello - these weren’t that clumsy.

“Uh-oh - this is a new batch, guys,” I called. “These Erasers can actually fly. Move it!”

“Through the woods!” Fang called, and I nodded.

“Rendezvous at the bat cave,” I added. “Make sure you aren’t followed!”

The six of us dived into the trees, effortlessly slipping among the branches and trunks. We’d practiced moves like this hundreds of times, and it was exhilarating, like playing a video game, only, you know, in real life. In less than a minute we heard crashes and yells behind us. Several Erasers had already misjudged their wingspans and almost ripped their wings off on unforgiving tree trunks.

It was pretty funny.

“No one touches Max! She’s mine!” I heard Ari shout, and thought, Oh, brother.

We split up, each leading a bunch of Erasers on a crazy zigzag path. Together again, Iggy and Gazzy flew in tandem, with Iggy able to mimic Gazzy’s moves within milliseconds. Angel was a blur of white through the green and brown of the forest. I knew Fang was holding Total and hoped that didn’t cramp his style too much.

“This is where it ends,” i heard Ari snarl, surprisingly close. I took a split-second look back and saw that he was barely thirty feet behind me. Okay, time to pour on the power. I sucked in a deep breath and surged forward, putting some of my newfound speed into action.

And practically almost killed myself, because trees were popping in my way faster than I had ever practiced. Get it together, Maximum, I told myself grimly. React faster. You can do it.

Concentrating fiercely, I aimed myself like a bullet through and over and between the thick trees and scrubby undergrowth. All sound faded away as I focused intently on finding a path for myself through the woods. Again and again I flipped sideways, shooting through impossibly narrow gaps. Several times I clipped my wing tips against something and even ripped some feathers out, making me hiss in a breath.

There was no way Ari could keep up with me at this speed, being such a bad flyer, with patched-on wings. I slowed, and time slowed with me. Sound reached my ears again - I was far away from everyone. Uh, too far, actually. I turned around and headed back.

I came up behind Ari, all stealthy wings, where he was perched on a branch.

“No! I told you - she’s mine!” Ari was shouting into an earpiece. “This time no one’s going to stop me. You take care of the others. I’ll find Max.”

He tapped his com unit off and took out a small pair of military binoculars. He peered through them, and I was practically holding my sides to keep from laughing. Finally he turned enough to see me - a hundred miles wide, filling his vision.

“Ah!” he cried in surprise, and dropped the binoculars.

Then I laughed. “So, what plans do you have for me, dog boy?”

I expected him to snarl and lunge, as usual. But he sat back on his branch and looked at me, seeming almost calm and roughly in the neighborhood of sane.

“Plans,” he said. “I don’t want to kill you. But I will if I have to. If you don’t cooperate.”

“Cooperate? This is me you’re talking to.”

Ari reached behind him and took a large, lethal-looking knife out of his pack. “I’m going to ask you once, nicely. What happens after that is up to you.”

What was he up to? “Uh, okay. Ask away.”

“You come with me. The two of us disappear. We never have to deal with Jeb and the whitecoats and everyone else again.”

“Disappear where?” You know what they say: Curiosity killed the mutant bird kid. But I couldn’t help myself.

“A place I know.”

“And I would be stuck there? With you as my guard? I have to tell you, this isn’t among my top-ten offers.”

“Not as your guard. As your friend.”

“You and me.” This was throwing me for a loop - and then I remembered Angel telling me that she’d picked up on Ari actually loving me. In a hateful, twisted way, of course.

“Yes. This is your one chance.”

“Uh-huh.” I couldn’t for the life of me see where this was headed in his mind. Unless - ick. “Ari, I can’t leave the flock,” I said, straight out. “Not for you, not for Jeb, not for anyone.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Ari said evenly, then he lunged at me with the knife.

I let myself fall backward off my branch, doing a flip in the air and unfurling my wings as I came right-side up. I didn’t even look back as I took off through the woods again, fast, heading back to the general area where the flock had split up. I felt sorry for Ari. Or, at least, I potentially felt sorry for him, if he would quit trying to kill me.

“Max!” It was Fang. Immediately I zoomed upward and burst through the treetops into the open sky above. He was up there, fighting three Erasers at once. I streaked over and chopped one right where his neck met his shoulder. He cried out, and then I grabbed his wings and pulled them together, hard, in back of him. He shrieked in pain and started to drop like a rock. It was a little trick we’d learned back when we were first starting to fly. I’d forbidden us to do it to one another.

That Eraser crashed down into the trees below and disappeared from sight.

“Where’s everybody else?” I called to Fang as I moved in.

“Gone - Total too,” he said. “This is all that’s left.” He circled up to the right and then fell down sideways, landing hard on an Eraser’s wing. Their wings were heavier than ours but not nearly as smoothly integrated into their bodies. This one folded also and fell clumsily downward. He tried to get aloft again, but just as his wings extended, he hit the trees. We heard him screaming all the way down to the ground.

“That had to hurt,” said Fang.

“Should we go -,” I began, but just then Ari shot out of the trees and smashed right into Fang at full speed. He wheeled around surprisingly quickly and hovered in the air, facing us.

“We end this now!” he growled.

“I agree,” said Fang in a low, deadly tone, and he rushed Ari.

Remembering what had happened when they’d fought on the beach, I got ready to fling myself between them, but Fang zipped in like a hawk and managed a snap kick to Ari’s chest so hard that Ari started coughing. Before I could even say, “Good one,” Fang had circled and chopped the side of his hand down on Ari’s neck. Ari dropped about ten feet because he momentarily forgot to flap, but then his face set in anger and he surged upward again. His wingspan must have been eighteen feet, because he was a full-size Eraser. I could only imagine how hard he had to work just to stay aloft.

Fang whirled in a tight circle, like a hawk ballet, and flew in sideways before Ari could even react. His fist crashed against the side of Ari’s face, and I saw Ari’s nose start to bleed. I guessed Fang was remembering the beach incident too.

Ari roared and came right at Fang, claws slashing the air, teeth bared, eyes burning. He had power, hatred, and Eraser strength on his side. But Fang was fast and nimble, and had a truckload of resentment and hunger for revenge.

It was a pretty even match.

I wanted to jump in and help, but I sensed it was one of those boy things and I should stay out of it unless Fang was really getting his butt kicked. So I hovered nearby, scanning the horizon, hoping the rest of the flock was safe at the bat cave. No other Erasers seemed to be around, amazingly, and choppers didn’t suddenly appear. It was just your basic one-on-one mutant-vs.-mutant fight.

Which Fang seemed to be winning. I mean, let’s hear it for resentment and revenge. Even though Ari was probably actually stronger than Fang, Fang was so quick and so, so mad.

I winced as I heard the bone-jarring crack of Fang’s fist against the side of Ari’s head. The blow spun his head sideways, and Fang darted in with a fast side kick right to Ari’s ribs. I saw Ari’s grimacing face and hoped this would be over soon, before he got in a lucky hit.

Again Fang swung a hard left punch. Ari turned at the last minute and caught it right in the muzzle. Blood started dripping out of his mouth. “You -,” Fang said as he punched him from the right. “Quit-” Ari tried to back up, but he was clumsy with his wings and ended up dropping several feet. Fang dropped also, with precision, and rammed an uppercut into Ari’s ribs. I heard Ari’s breath leave in a whoosh. “Attacking -” Finally Fang drew back, gave one big beat of his wings, and shot forward, feetfirst. Both feet connected forcefully with Ari’s stomach, and Ari wheezed for air. “Us!” Fang finished, delivering an uppercut to the chin that literally made Ari spin backward through the air.

And he kept tumbling. I got a glimpse of his battered, rage-filled face as he fell toward the treetops, sixty feet below. He tried to catch himself, working his wings, but it was too late. He crashed into the greenery, and we heard branches snapping from up where we were.

He’d hardly managed to touch Fang.

I looked over at Fang. He was panting, sweating, watching Ari’s fall with a look of cold satisfaction.

“So - working out some issues here, are we?” I said.

He gave me a dry look. “Let’s go find the others.”

Fang and I kept a lookout all the way to the bat cave. We had no way of knowing if someone was tracking us with a telescope or whatever. But we took a complicated, mostly hidden route, and ended up shooting quickly in through the overhanging vines at the cave entrance.

“Max!” Nudge said, jumping up to give me a hug. Then we were all hugging one another, and Total was jumping up and down with excited little yips.

“Are they gone?” Gazzy asked.

“For now,” I said. “Fang kicked Ari’s butt.”

“Way to go!” Iggy said, holding up his fist. Fang bumped fists with him, trying not to look too pleased with himself.

“He has issues,” Nudge whispered knowingly out of the side of her mouth. I laughed.

“Okay, guys,” I said. “New agenda. Forget looking for our parents. We’ve hit a dead end. And besides, I don’t think I could bear to give one of you up again right now. How about moving on to saving the world?”

“Yeah, let’s get out of here,” said Total, looking up at me.

“But where to?” asked Nudge.

“I’ve been thinking about that,” I began.

“Florida,” said Angel.

“What? Why?” I asked.

“I just feel like Florida is where we should go,” Angel said, shrugging. “Plus, you know, Disney World.”

“Yes! Disney World!” said Gazzy.

“Swimming pools, sunshine - I am so there,” Total agreed.

I looked at Fang. He shrugged. And actually, I didn’t really have any other plan.

Go with the flow, Max. Ride the flow.

After that pithy nugget from my Voice-turned-travel-agent, I said, “Well, okay, then. Florida it is. Grab your packs.”