Next up, the Itex Corporation. The major industrial giant that seemed to be behind all the recombinant-DNA experiments; as well as the Re-Evolution Plan, also known as the By-Half Plan; and who knew how many other lunatic plans of mass destruction and mayhem.
Basically, the last place any of us would ever, ever want to go voluntarily.
The place we had to go.
Their office was in...
“Threadgill-on-Thames?” Nudge read carefully.
“It sounds like a tweed theme park,” said Angel.
“It’s pronounced ‘Tems,’” Total said, licking one paw. “Can I have another potato chip?”
I passed him a newspaper cone full of hot fried fish and french fries. Those wacky Brits called fries “chips.” And potato chips were “crisps.” And cookies were “biscuits.” I had no idea what real biscuits were called. Wangdoodles?
“And the vinegar?” Total asked.
I sprinkled vinegar on it for him, then looked at the map again. The Internet cafés we’d found were for people with their own computers. Since Fang had taken our computer, we’d had to go to a library.
Of course, we’d found that Itex was everywhere, with branches in fourteen cities throughout the United Kingdom. But the main office seemed to be about a thirty-minute flight from London, west-southwest.
“I like fish and chips,” Ari said. “They’re yummy.”
“Uh-huh,” I said distractedly, tracing a line on the map.
I still couldn’t believe I had to go kill the dragon without Fang by my side. He had abandoned me, Nudge, and Angel. Was he so pissed about Ari that he didn’t care if we lived or died? Did he think his blog was really going to solve everything? It’s not like a bunch of angry kids with pitchforks and torches was going to end Itex’s reign of terro
r.
The word terror suddenly made me think about when Gazzy had told those FBI guys his name was Captain Teror. My eyes were hot and itchy in a flash, and I had trouble swallowing. Gazzy. Iggy. I missed them so much. I’d had dreams about them all night and woke up convinced something bad would happen to them and I wouldn’t be able to help.
I was going to kill Fang. That was totally on my list, right after “save the world.”
Jerk. Cretin. Oh, God. He was part of me; he was in my blood. My blood was in him, literally. How could he have done this?
I glanced over at where Ari was drawing the last of his french fries through a mound of ketchup, his too-large hand making it look like a toothpick. I’d been watching him carefully, and so far he seemed loyal, sincere, not acting suspiciously. But what if I really had made my worst mistake?
I know what you’re thinking: Of course you didn’t, Max! It was Fang! He made the mistake!
And yes, we all know that my making a mistake is very, very rare. Exceedingly rare.
Still.
I was going to keep an eye on Ari.
“Max?” Nudge was looking at me. “Earth to Max.”
“Huh? What?”
“We’re going to fly there, right?” Nudge asked, pointing to Threadgill-on-Thames on the map. “Like, fly fly, not plane fly, right?”
“Right.” I glanced out the window. “We’ll go as soon as the sun sets. In the meantime, anyone want more tea?”
“Yeah, I’ll have some,” said Total. Of course.
72
“Oh, lovely,” I breathed, peering through a tall bank of hedges. “Geez, they’re not even pretending to gussy this place up, are they?”