“I’m sorry,” I barely managed, and then—get this—I burst into tears.
103
I could count on one hand how many times these kids had seen me cry. I’d learned to swallow my feelings because they needed me to be strong. Invincible Max. Saving the world, one bird kid at a time. For the first six years of Angel’s life, I don’t think she saw me cry once. In the last few months? I was about to run out of fingers to count on.
I didn’t even have the strength to run off and hide. I just knelt in the sand, my hands over my face. My cut hurt like hell.
Then strong arms were around me, a gentle hand was pressing me into a wiry, rock-hard shoulder. Fang. I pulled my wings in, leaned against him, and sobbed. Soon I felt other, tentative hands patting my back, stroking my hair. Someone said, “Shh, shh.” Nudge.
“It’s okay, Max,” Iggy said, sounding shaken. “Everything’s okay.”
Nothing in our world was okay. Except that we had one another. I nodded into Fang’s shoulder.
I don’t know how long this touching scene rolled on, but eventually my sobs gave way to shuddering breaths, and finally I was spent. Fang’s shirt was soaked.
I was so embarrassed. I was the leader, and here I was breaking down like a baby. How could I boss them around if I was so weak? I sniffled and sat back, knowing I must look like a train wreck. Fang let me go, not saying anything. Slowly I raised my eyes, turning slightly to see the flock. I was way too embarrassed to look at Fang.
“Sorry, guys.” My voice sounded rusty.
Total came and rested his head on my leg, his black eyes sympathetic.
The Gasman looked frightened. “We didn’t have to go to the beach, Max.”
A sort of choking laugh left me, and I reached out to ruffle his hair. “It wasn’t that, Gazzy. Just other stuff, getting to me.”
“Like what?” Iggy asked.
I sighed heavily and wiped my eyes. “Stuff. The Voice in my head. Everyone chasing us. School. Anne. Ari. Jeb. They keep telling me I’m supposed to save the world, but how, and from what, I don’t even know.”
Angel reached out and patted my knee. “From, you know, after everything gets blown up and most of the people are gone. We’ll be stronger, and able to fly, so we can leave the blown-up parts and find some nice land that isn’t blown up or contan—contama—”
“Contaminated?” Iggy provided, and Angel nodded.
“Yeah, that. Then we can keep on living, even if there are hardly any people left.”
104
There was silence after this little bombshell. I stared at Angel.
“Uh . . . where did you hear that, sweetie?” I asked.
Angel sat back on her heels and trailed her fingers through the cool sand. “At the School. I wasn’t supposed to hear it, but that’s what they thought.” She sounded nonchalant and started digging out a moat for a sand castle.
“Who’s going to blow up the world?” the Gasman asked indignantly.
Angel shrugged. “Lots of people can—they have big bombs. Countries and stuff. But the people at the School kept thinking it would be just one company, a business company. They think it’s going to blow up the world, mostly. Maybe even by accident.”
Well, this was an interesting turn of events.
“And what company was that?” I asked.
Angel looked off into the distance, frowning. “Don’t remember,” she said. “Like, the name of a deer or something. A gazelle. Can I go swim?”
“Uh, sure,” I said faintly.
Happily pulling her swimsuit out of her backpack, Angel raced Total down to the water. Within seconds he came trotting back, shaking his fur. “That water’s freezing,” he said. He raised his nose, sniffed the air, then headed off to investigate some rocks.
Gazzy, after a nod from me, also ran down to the water, shedding clothes. Nudge and Iggy moved over to sit on a big rock. They fished around in their backpacks and pulled out some protein bars.