Holden nodded, rubbing the scars on his arms.
“Let’s take ’em down,” Ratchet said, and Star actually smiled.
“So… San Diego?” Fang asked.
“San Diego!” the gang agreed.
40
AFTER A DAY of zombified culties shrieking about wiping out the human race and an hour of hysterical panic holding Iggy down while fighting for his mind as he writhed in the bathtub, I’d aged about five years, and I swear I got my first gray hair from that ordeal.
However, we were now back on track. We were six normalish birdkids, one of whom had recently endured a freezing cold deprogramming experience, and a small black dog thrilled that he’d escaped a bath. Together we sat, a little freaked out, around the table, trying to plan our next course of action.
“Dr. Martinez, Jeb, and Ella are still gone,” Dylan said, and Gazzy countered with, “Well, duh.” I was glad to hear the Gasman sounding almost back to normal after the whole not-talking-for-two-days thing, which I hadn’t really had time to deal with.
“Do you want to saddle up, go back, and get Ella?” Dylan asked me, ignoring Gazzy.
“That’s my first instinct,” I said slowly, thinking. “But I’m really worried about what this Doomsday Group is up to. If it’s something serious, we might have to try to stop it. Fast. This thing is spreading like the plague.”
“It’s just so weird that—” Nudge began, then stopped after a harsh look from Angel.
“What?” I said.
Nudge pressed her lips together and looked away. Total coughed meaningfully.
I sighed and rubbed my temples. “Just tell me. Obviously, it’s about Fang.” I was amazed I could even say his name without having to curl up into a little ball afterward.
“Well, it’s just so weird that we’re dealing with the Doomsday Group here, and Fang is going to California to do the same thing,” Nudge said quickly.
I’d seen mention of the Doomsday Group on the TV in the little stomach-turning video I’d seen of Fang and his Max stand-in but didn’t know it was more than that.
“Fang mentioned them in his blog?” I demanded.
“Yeah,” Nudge admitted.
I sat down at the laptop and called up Fang’s blog myself, for the first time since he’d left. It was painful, just seeing the words he’d written. I was aware of Dylan, who’d gone across the room and was sitting moodily on the sofa, flicking through TV channels.
“ ‘So, Comic-Con!’ ” I read, as Total stretched up to my lap. “ ‘I’ve always wanted to go! Looks like I’ll get my chance—the Doomsday Group is holding a huge rally there. Why, I don’t know, but the Fang gang is on its way. Feel free to drop by! I’ll be the one with real—not strap-on—wings.’ ”
I looked up. “No one was going to tell me about this because…”
Nudge looked uncomfortable. “You made us all promise never to mention his name,” she whispered, and I winced as that sentence came back to bite me in the butt again. “Plus, you were busy dealing with Iggy who was, you know, brainsucked,” she said.
I sat back. “So the DG is going to have a big rally at Comic-Con.”
“We are so there!” Total said. “I’m definitely getting Tricia Helfer’s autograph!”
We all turned to look at him. “What?” he said. “She’s hot. For a human.”
“If the DG is having a huge rally, we should go,” Dylan agreed, which was big of him, especially since he knew Fang would be there too.
Inside, my heart raced at the thought of possibly seeing Fang again. Did he know how much he was hurting me by advertising the new Fang gang? Was he really that cruel, to post videos of himself with his Max stand-in? Was he deliberately trying to hurt me?
That didn’t sound like Fang. But I didn’t know what to think.
“But what about Ella and my mom and Jeb?” I asked.
“I’ve been thinking about that,” said Gazzy. The serious tone of his voice made me look at him sharply.
“What’s up, Gaz?” Nudge asked.
“Well, before the crash, when I was trying to hold Jeb and then he let go?” Gazzy’s face showed how painful the memory was. “Right as I knew I couldn’t hold him much longer, he yelled one last thing, the last thing he wanted me to know before he died.”
As much as I usually hated Jeb, I couldn’t help admitting that I really did want to know what his almost-last words were. “And that was…?”
“He said, ‘The human race will have to die to save the planet. Just like I have to die to save you.’ ” Gazzy looked up, his blue eyes troubled. “I think maybe Jeb is in on it. Your mom too.”
41
“WHA-HUH?” I SAID, already bristling. My mom? In on a heinous conspiracy?
“I know, I know,” Gazzy said quickly. “You know how great I think Dr. M is. I don’t want her to be in on this.”
“Jeb, okay,” I said, my temper flaring. “He’s a lying, two-faced weasel. But my mom’s good. She’s always been good to us, and now you’re just selling her out?”
“But… your mom trusts Jeb,” said Gazzy. “Even after you thought he had betrayed you and us and cut off all ties with him, your mom stayed in touch with him.”
That had really ticked me off, but I figured she’d had her reasons. Like maybe she thought weasels were really cute. Or could be trained to do circus tricks.
“Something else,” Dylan said, sounding reluctant. “Dr. Martinez is incredible. She’s helped us all and even welcomed me into her home. But she also let Jeb bring Dr. Hans here without warning anyone, even after what you told her about him. Even after he almost killed Fang. She let him come here. Didn’t that bother you at all?”
I spun around to look at him. “Oh, now everyone wants to jump on the traitor train to jerkville. You’ve been here for what? Two seconds?! This is my mom we’re talking about!”
He put a hand on my shoulder, and I stiffened. I opened my mouth to continue defending my mom, who is, as I’ve pointed out, the only mom I’m ever likely to have. But despite my little outburst, a tiny seed of doubt had taken root in me. Dylan’s instincts were usually pretty spot-on. And he always had my back, except for the whole leaving-Ella-behind-in-a-sea-of-cult-freaks thing.
I looked up and expected to find hurt or anger on his face, but he just looked sorry. And like he really cared about me. And then that rarest of rare things happened: I felt bad.
Then I looked at the concerned faces of my flock. So many times in the past, I’d ignored what they’d said and charged ahead, my mind made up about how it was going to be. But they weren’t saying this stuff just to mess with me or to make me feel bad. I shut my mouth abruptly and sat down.
“Wasn’t it your mom who convinced us all to go see the Gen 77 kids that morning?” Angel asked gently. “You didn’t want to go, and we were all on your side. But your mom said she’d like to go, and that’s why all of us got in Jeb’s plane. Which is why we almost died.”
I felt like I’d been punched in the stomach really hard. Everything in me wanted to tell them they were wrong, they were crazy. But the truth was that, as much as I loved my mom, and as much as I trusted her, I’d still known her for just a few years, and she was a grown-up. We didn’t have such a great track record with adults in general or with scientists in particular. Even though it really, really hurt, I trusted the flock with my heart, with my gut.
I had to think this one through and not go charging off.
Maybe I really am getting older and perhaps a tiny bit wiser.