Iggy moved to the couch and almost sat on Nudge. She scooted to one side, and when he sat down, she put her head on his shoulder. He stroked her hair.
“Take deep breaths,” the Gasman advised me, looking concerned. I almost burst into tears again. I had let his sister get kidnapped, failed to save her, and he was worried about me.
Fang was darkly silent. His eyes watched me as he ope
ned a can of ravioli and picked up a fork with a heavily bandaged hand.
“You know, if they just wanted to kill her, or kill all of us, they could have,” Nudge said shakily. “They had guns. They wanted Angel alive for some reason. And they didn’t care if we were alive or not. I mean, they didn’t go out of their way to make sure we were dead, is what I’m saying. So that makes me think we have time to go after Angel again.”
“But they were in a chopper,” said the Gasman. “They’re way gone. They could be anywhere.” His lower lip trembled, and he clenched his jaw. “Like, China or something.”
I went over and ruffled his already ruffled blond hair. “I don’t think they took her to China, Gazzy.”
“We know where they took her.” Fang’s calm words fell like stones. He scraped the bottom of the can with his fork.
“Where’s that?” Iggy asked, raising his head, his blind eyes bloodshot with unshed tears.
“The School,” Fang and I said at the same time.
Well, as you can imagine, that went over like a ton of freaking bricks.
10
Nudge gasped, her hand over her mouth, her eyes wide.
The Gasman looked scared, then tried to wipe it off his face.
Iggy’s spine tightened, his face like ice. When he’d been at the School, they’d tried to surgically enhance his night vision. Now he was blind forever. Oops.
“They took Angel back to the School?” the Gasman asked, confused.
“I think so,” I said, trying to sound together and leaderly. As if I weren’t screaming with panic inside.
“Why?” Nudge whispered. “After four years, I thought maybe they had forgotten—”
“They want us back,” said Fang.
We’d never really talked about this. It was like, out of sight, out of mind. Actually, more like, let’s all try to forget when we were at the mercy of sadistic spawns of Satan in a place that’s a total, hellish abomination and ought to be firebombed. Yeah, more like that.
“They’ll never forget about us. Jeb wasn’t supposed to take us out of there,” I reminded the Gasman.
“Jeb knew they would do anything to get us back. If anyone ever discovered what they did to us, it would be the end of the School,” Fang explained.
“Why don’t we tell on them, then?” Nudge demanded. “We could go to a TV station and tell everyone and say, Look, they grew wings on us, and we’re just little kids, and—”
“Okay, that would fix them,” Iggy interrupted. “But we’d end up in a zoo.”
“Well, what are we gonna do, then?” The Gasman was starting to sound panicky.
Fang had gotten up and left the room, and now he returned, holding a sheaf of yellowed, fading papers. The edges looked nibbled, and he shook some mouse poop off.
“Eew,” said Nudge, wiping her nose on her sleeve. “Eew. Was that—”
“Here,” said Fang, pushing the papers at me.
They were Jeb’s ancient printed-out files. After he disappeared, we’d cleared off his desk and shoved everything in the back of a closet so we wouldn’t have to look at it all the time.
We spread the papers out on the kitchen table. Just looking at them made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Not to mention the strong eau de mouse. I’d rather have been doing anything but.