"That's a good idea, Fang," said Angel, turning her hot dog over to burn the other side. "We need to make connections."
What did she mean by that?
Connections are important, Max.
The Voice was back.
9
I was so startled by the Voice's sudden reappearance that I jumped and practically fell against the rock wall.
Instinctively I put a hand to my temple, as if I could feel the Voice running under my skin like a river.
"You okay?" Iggy reached out and touched my jeans. He'd felt me jump.
"Yeah," I muttered, walking away from the group. I felt them all looking at me, but I didn't want to explain.
Voice. Long time no annoy, I thought.
You were doing pretty well on your own, it replied. As before, it was impossible to tell whether it was young or old, male or female, human or machine. I was instantly aware of a schizoid reaction: Part of me felt irritated, invaded, suspicious, resentful-and part of me was flooded with relief, like I wasn't so alone.
Which was dumb. I lived with my five best friends and a dog. They were my family, my life. How could I possibly feel alone?
Everyone is always alone, Max, said the Voice, chipper as always. That's why connections are important.
Have you been reading Hallmark cards again? I thought. I walked out to the end of the canyon and found myself a mere ten feet from a ledge that dropped sharply into a much deeper, bigger canyon.
Connections, Max. Remember your dream?
I frowned, not knowing what the Voice was talking about.
You mean my dream of becoming the first avian-American Miss America? I thought snidely.
No. Your dream that the Erasers are chasing you, and you run through the woods until you come to a ledge. Then you fall off the ledge but start flying. And escape.
My breath left my chest with an audible oof. I hadn't had that dream since...well, since my dream had been replaced by a reality that was much worse. How had the Voice known about it?
"Yeah, so?" I said out loud.
This canyon is very much like your dream. It's as if you've come full circle.
I had no clue. No idea what the Voice meant.
Connections. Putting it all together. Your dream, Fang's laptop, people you've met, places you've been. Itex, the School, the Institute. Isn't it all connected?
Okay, but how? I practically shouted.
I almost thought I heard the Voice sigh, but probably just imagined it.
You'll see. You'll figure it out. Before it's too late.
That's comforting, I thought angrily. Thanks.
Then I had another thought. Voice? Where are all the Erasers?
Granted, the Voice had never answered a direct question-no, that would have been too easy. You don't just give the rat a piece of cheese-you make her work for it, right?
Shrugging, I turned and headed back to the others.
They're dead, Max, said the Voice. They've all been...retired.
I stopped in my tracks, frozen by shock. The Voice was always coy with information, but as far as I knew, it had never lied to me. (Which meant nothing, I realize.) But-dead?
Dead, the Voice repeated. They've been retired. All around the world, every branch of the organization has been terminating their recombinant-DNA experiments. You're among the only ones left. And they're coming for you.
10
Ooh, ominous music, right? "They're coming for you." Big whoop. They'd been coming for us for four years now. They hadn't done too well so far.
I strode back to the flock.
"You okay?" Fang asked.
I nodded, then remembered I was mad at him.
I looked away and deliberately sat next to Nudge, against the other canyon wall.
"I just heard from the Voice," I said.
"What did it say?" Nudge asked, eating a rolled-up piece of bologna.
Angel and Total watched me intently, and Fang stopped typing.
"It said we haven't been seeing Erasers because they're all dead," I said bluntly.
Everyone's eyes widened to, um, about the size of dinner plates.
"What did it mean, they're all dead?" Nudge asked.
I shook my head. "I don't know. If it's not pulling my leg, then I would guess it meant...that all the Erasers are taking dirt naps." I thought about Ari, Jeb's son, who had been Eraserfied, and felt a tugging pain in my chest. Poor Ari. What a sucky life he'd been born into. And such a short one too.
"Who killed them?" Fang asked, getting to the point, as usual.
"The Voice said...all over the world, every branch of Itex and the Institute and the School-they were all terminating their recombinant-DNA experiments. And that we were almost the only ones left." It started to sink in, what that meant, and a cold shiver made me put my arms around my knees.
We were all silent for a minute, digesting this.
Then Total said, "Okay, if anyone asks, I can't talk, right?"
I rolled my eyes. "Oh yeah, that'll fool 'em."
"What are we gonna do now?" the Gasman asked. He looked very worried and came to sit closer to me. I reached out and fluffed up his mohawk, which had grown out.
"We have a mission," I began, ready to psych us all up for solving this puzzle. And possibly taking out a few whitecoats while we were at it.
"We need a home," said Fang, at almost the exact same time.
"What?" I asked, startled.
"We need to find a permanent home," Fang said seriously. "We can't last on the run much longer. I say screw the mission. Let them blow up the world. We can find a place to hide out where no one can find us, and we can just...live."
11
We all stared at Fang. That was the longest statement any of us had ever heard him utter.
"We can't forget the mission," I began, just as Angel said, "Yeah! We need a home!"
"A home!" said the Gasman, looking thrilled.
"A real home, better than our last one," Nudge agreed happily. "With no grown-ups, and no school or school uniforms."
"A home with a yard and lots of grass," said Total. "No more of this pebbles-and-dirt crap."
Why was I the only one who needed to know what was going on, who needed to understand what had happened to us and why? After everything we'd been through in the last few months, now they were ready to just throw it all away? I mean, Angel's kidnapping, going to New York, the subway tunnels, the beach, staying with Anne Walker, going to that school...
Oh. Well, okay. So they might be a little tired of the fear, pain, and mayhem, but still...
"Iggy?" I said, trying to keep the pleading out of my voice.
"Let's see," he said, holding out his hands as if they were a scale. "Hmm. On the one hand, we have constant, desperate, heart-pounding escapes, day after day, never knowing what's going to happen to us or whether we'll even be alive the next day..."
I frowned, seeing where he was going with this.
"On the other hand, a home: hidden, safe, sleeping in the same bed every night, relaxing, not having to fight for our lives at a moment's notice..."
"Okay, okay," I said. "You don't have to rub it in."
They watched me, waiting.
What was with Fang? Why was he undermining me like this? I used to feel so connected to him, like he was my absolute best friend in the world, someone who always had my back. Now I looked at him and felt as if I hardly knew him.
Reluctantly I shrugged one shoulder. "Whatever. A home, whatever."
The ecstatic cheering only made me feel worse.
12
"I'm not giving up the mission," I said, loud enough for Fang, several yards away, to hear me. We were only about eight thousand feet in the air, but it was really cold, probably below freezing. The wind in my eyes made them water constantly.
"I know."
"This is stupid," I said. Looking down, I saw the Pecos River winding like a thin, shiny snake through west Texas.