Not.
Dead.
83
THEN A COUPLE of my nerves started firing again, and my muscles unfroze.
“Fang! Come back!” I started pulling his hair. Shaking his head and shoulders. Hard. “Wake up! Snap out of it! You stupid jerk! I am going to kill you if you die on me!”
I put my mouth up to his ear. “Did you hear me?” I was yelling right into it. “Dying is not on the agenda! Not part of my plan!”
That wasn’t working. I pounded on his chest. “Get up! After everything we’ve been through, are you going to give up now? Are you that much of a wuss? We need you, you butthead! I need you. I — I love you, Fang.”
I was choking on dry sobs now. “Did you hear that?
Why I didn’t I tell you before? You can’t die before I tell you that. You can’t!”
Gulping, I looked around wildly, as if I would see something marked “Second chances. use sparingly.” All I saw were a bunch of unconscious guards, bloody bird kids, and a lizard boy.
And a large hypodermic needle, on the stand holding medical equipment next to Fang’s bed. The tube was marked “Adrenaline. Dangerous.”
I reached for it. I had seen this movie once —
“I tried that!” said Dr. Disaster, who was tightly in Dylan’s grip. “Don’t you think I tried that? I shot it into his IV! It did nothing!”
In a split second I grabbed the hypo, whirled, and sank the needle deep into Fang’s chest, directly into his heart. I pressed the plunger home, emptying its entire contents. If he had any chance at all, this was it. And if it wouldn’t save his life, then it would surely end it once and for all, right now.
Being a leader means you have to make life-or-death decisions sometimes. And I made this one.
84
TIME BECAME ELASTIC, stretching out endlessly. Each second seemed to take hours. Everyone was moving in slow motion, all blurry, all dreamy. I couldn’t understand what they were saying. I got an impression of Iggy and Gazzy holding Robert down, trying to pull off his new head, without success. I saw Nudge and Angel hugging. Angel was crying.
One by one they turned to look at me and Fang, concern and pain on their faces.
I looked down at Fang, at that smooth, tan place on his neck where his pulse should have been beating. I squeezed his cold hand hard, willing him to squeeze back. I dropped my head to his chest and closed my eyes so I wouldn’t have to see the machine flatlining in front of me.
Fang, come on, I thought. You promis
ed you would never leave me. You promised. I gulped again, hearing nothing, feeling nothing under my ear. This can’t be, can’t be, can’t be… . Oh, God, help me, help me… .
My mind was starting to completely shut down in order not to feel this pain, when I heard a beep.
Then another beep.
Then I felt Fang’s chest rise as he gasped in a breath, and I felt his heart beat, right under my cheek.
I bolted upright, staring at his face. His mouth opened. His good eye widened. I grabbed his hand in both of mine and clasped it hard against my chest. I couldn’t say anything, could only stare at that poor, battered face I loved so much.
Fang blinked hazily and breathed in again. His gaze fell on me, and I must have looked wild with panic and misery.
“Fang?” I gasped.
He blinked, tried to swallow. “ ‘Ssup?” he said groggily.
I’m pretty much of the stoical school of emotiveness, but everything I was feeling burst through me like a flood through a dam. I dropped my head back onto his chest, my arms around him, and sobbed.
85