The woman looked disconcerted but tried to smooth out her expression.
"We thought you might be hungry," she said. "These are hot out of the oven."
She waved the tray a bit, to make sure the incredible vanilla-tinged aroma of fresh-baked cookies reached all of us.
"Uh-huh," I said. "Because all you mad, evil scientists sit around whipping up batches of Pillsbury's finest during your coffee breaks. I mean, this is pathetic."
She looked surprised, and I felt anger warming my blood.
"I mean, points for the jail cell," I went on, motioning at the room with my head. "Kudos for the Velcro straps. Those were good starts. But you're sort of falling down with the chocolate-chip cookies. Like, did you skip school the day they taught hostage treatment?"
Pink patches flared on her cheeks, and she stepped back.
"Keep your lousy cookies," I said, narrowing my eyes and letting a snarl enter my voice. "Whatever you sick freaks have planned for us, get on with it. 'Cause otherwise you're just wasting our time."
Now her face was stiff as a mask, and she started to head to the door.
This is a plan, I thought. When they came in to get us for whatever, that would be our chance. And we would seize it.
She was almost to the door when Total raised his head weakly. "Not so fast," he croaked. "I'll take a cookie. I'm not proud."
Fang and I exchanged looks, and we rolled our eyes.
The woman looked startled when Total spoke and didn't know what to make of his request. So she just hurried out the door, and when it slammed behind her, I felt it in my bones.
40
"Okay, the second they undo us, make sure all heck breaks loose," I said when everyone was awake the next morning-at least I figured it was morning, since someone had turned the lights on again.
The flock nodded, but with none of the angry thirst for revenge they would need to escape.
"Look, we've had our backs against the wall before," I reminded them. "These guys always screw up, always make a mistake. We've gotten the best of them every time, and it'll be the same here."
No reaction whatsoever.
"Come on, guys, buck up," I coaxed. "Let's see some insane rage put apples in those cheeks."
Nudge smiled faintly, but the others seemed lost in their own worlds, tugging without purpose against their straps. Fang sent me an understanding look, and I felt so frustrated and stuck that I wanted to howl.
The door opened with a whoosh, and I quickly met everyone's eyes: This was it!
It was Jeb. Followed by Anne Walker, whom we hadn't seen since we ditched her Martha Stewart farmhouse in Virginia. And the unholy trio was completed by a golden-curled little girclass="underline" Angel, who was eating a chocolate-chip cookie and calmly watching me with her big blue eyes.
"Angel!" Gazzy's voice broke as he understood that his sister had turned against us. "Angel, how could you?"
"Hello, Max," said Anne Walker, not smiling, not looking at all adoptive mom-like.
I sighed heavily and stared at the ceiling. No crying. Not one tear.
Jeb came and stood right next to my bed, so close I could smell his aftershave. Its scent awoke a slew of childhood memories, the years between ten and twelve years old, when I'd felt the happiest I ever had.
"Hello, Max," he said quietly, searching my face. "How do you feel?"
Which was a ten on the "imbecilic question" scale of one to ten.
"Why, I feel fine, Jeb," I said brightly. "How about you?"
"Any nausea? Headache?"
"Yep. And it's standing here talking to me."
His fingers brushed the covers on top of my leg, and I tried not to shudder.
"Does it feel like you've been through a lot?" he asked.
I stared at him. "Yeah. Kind of. And sadly, I'm still going through it."
Jeb turned and nodded at Anne Walker, and she made a noncommittal face back at him.
I started to pick up that something was happening here that I didn't fully understand.
Good thing I'm used to that feeling.
"Max, I've got something to tell you that I know is going to be hard to believe," Jeb said.
"You're not evil? You're not the worst lying, cheating, betraying jerk I've ever met?"
He smiled sadly. "The truth is, Max, that nothing is as it seems."
"Uh-huh," I said. "Is that what the aliens told you when you quit wearing your foil hat?"
Anne stepped forward. Jeb made a motion like, Let me do it, but she waved her hand at him. "The truth is, Max, that you're at the School."
"No freaking duh. And uh, wait-let me guess-I'm some kind of bird-kid hybrid. And you captured me. And, and, I'm strapped to a hospital bed. I bet I even have wings. Am I right?"
"No. You don't understand," she went on briskly. "You're at the School, Max, because you never left it. Everything that you think you've experienced for the past five months has all been a dream."
41
I gazed at Anne in admiration. "Gosh," I said. "This is a totally new tack. I truly did not expect that." Looking around at the flock, I asked, "Did anyone expect that?" They warily shook their heads no.
I nodded at Anne. "You've got me. Good one."
"It's true," she said. "You know you're an experimental form of recombinant DNA. You know that you've undergone testing during your limited life span. Part of the experiment has been to test your brains' imaginative capabilities, as well as how accurately we can manipulate and even create your memories. There are various experimental drugs that we've been authorized to use, drugs that allow us to, in essence, give you life memories that you never truly experienced."
Why was she doing this? Why go to so much trouble to spin this story?
"Does it really feel like you lived in Colorado with Jeb? That Angel was kidnapped? That you got her back? That you went to New York? That you killed Ari? That you lived with me in Virginia?" Her eyebrows rose.
Narrowing my eyes, I stayed silent. I was aware that the rest of the flock was paying intense attention to her every word.
"Max, we gave you those memories. We monitored your heart and lung rates while you imagined yourself in violent fights. We decided on New York, on Florida, on Arizona. Remember Dr. Martinez and Ella? Those constructs allowed us to test your psychological and physical responses to a warm, nurturing environment."
My blood turned to icy slush in my veins. They knew about Ella and Dr. Martinez. How? Had they harmed them? Killed them?
I fought to keep my face impassive, to slow my panicked breathing. I couldn't let them see that they were getting to me. This was the worst yet.
"What was the memory of living with you supposed to test?" I snapped. "How I would react to a two-faced control freak who didn't have a maternal bone in her body?"
Two red splotches appeared on Anne's cheeks. Score one for Max.
"You still don't believe us, sweetheart," said Jeb.
"Yeah. 'Cause I'm not a lunatic." My voice sounded a little choked.
Jeb gently took my left wrist. Instinctively I tried to pull away from him, but I couldn't. He carefully turned my hand inside the Velcro strap, so the underside of my arm was facing up.
"Look, Max," he said very softly. "I'm telling you, none of it has been real. It was all a dream. You never left the School."
Remember that puckered red scar on my arm, from when I tried to cut the chip out myself? And then the surgery, just a few days ago? It had left clean, straight little lines, maybe half an inch long.
Jeb pushed back my sleeve so I could see farther up my arm.
There were no scars there. Not anywhere. My arm was smooth and unmarked. I tried to wiggle my fingers. They moved. There was nothing wrong with my left hand.
Next to me, Gazzy sucked in an astonished breath.
I tried not to breathe at all, tried not to swallow, tried to conceal my shock. Then something occurred to me: We'd gotten Total in New York. "What about Total?" I demanded triumphantly. "Was he a dream too?"