We were headed into the sun, south-southwest. Leaving the Sangre de Cristo Mountains behind, streaking through the sky at a steady ninety miles per hour. If we hit a nice air current, we could add twenty miles per hour to our speed. The glory of flight.
Fang nodded. God, is he ever the strong and silent type.
“Uh-huh,” said Nudge. “If we get separated somehow—though I don’t see how we could, unless maybe one of us gets lost in a cloud or something—do you think that could happen? I haven’t ever been inside a cloud. I bet it’s creepy. Can you see anything inside a cloud—”
I shot her a look. She paused, then quickly finished, “We meet up at the northmost point of Lake Mead.”
I nodded. “And where’s the School?”
“In Death Valley, eight miles due north from the Badwater Basin.” Her mouth opened to add more, but I raised my eyebrows at her. I love Nudge, Nudge is a great kid, but that motormouth of hers could have turned Mother Teresa into an ax murderer.
“You got it,” I said. “Good job.” Did you hear that address? Could the School be located in a more perfect place? Death Valley. Above the Badwater Basin. Like, when we got there, we’d see a road paved with good intentions and have to cross the river Styx to get in. Wouldn’t surprise me.
The wind was undoing my braid, and chunks of long hair whipped annoyingly across my face. Note to self: Cut hair short.
The Gasman and Iggy had been none-too-happy campers when we’d left, but I thought I’d made the right decision. That was the problem with this leader stuff. It didn’t come with an instruction manual. Given what Angel was facing, their being unhappy was the least of my concerns.
I glanced over at Fang and saw that his face looked serene, almost—well, not exactly happy, Fang’s never happy—but just really calm. I edged closer to him.
“On the plus side, flying is just really, really cool,” I said, and he looked at me with a half smile of understanding. His dark wings moved powerfully, glinting faintly purple in the sunlight. The wind was whistling in our ears; we could see everything for miles. It was like being God. I imagine.
Oh, yeah. “On the minus side, we’re mutant freaks who will never live a normal life.”
Fang shrugged. “Win some, lose some.”
I was too upset to laugh but gave a wry smile and looked over at Nudge. She was three years younger than us but was holding her own. Like all of us, she was tall for her age, and skinny, probably weighing no more than sixty pounds, thanks to her strong, light bird bones.
Ninety miles an hour wasn’t fast enough. The “scientists” at the School could do a lot of damage in seven hours. Even so, I knew we’d have to take a break before we got there. If we were going to hit the School, we’d need to be rested, not hungry.
I checked my watch—we’d been skyborne for a good two hours. I was already feeling empty, a little shaky. Flying burned energy like nothing else, and after a long flight, I felt like I could eat a cow. Fork optional. Even needing to get to Angel, we couldn’t forget the basic necessity of eating.
“Max?” Nudge’s big eyes, the same tawny russet as her wings, looked over at me. “I was thinking?
??”
Here we go.
“I mean, right before we left? I just looked at Jeb’s old files, you know? And some of them were about us. Or me. I saw my name on a page, my real name, Monique, and then, like, some people’s names, and then—Tipisco, Arizona. Tipisco is right on the Arizona-California border—I found it on the map. Real tiny town, it looked like. Anyway, I was thinking, none of us ever knew our real parents, and, you know, we’ve always wondered, or at least I mean I’ve always wondered, but I guess the rest of you have too, like, whether they gave me up voluntarily or whether—”
“Nudge. I know how you feel. But those names might not have anything to do with you. We don’t know if we were just test-tube babies or what. Please. Let’s focus on rescuing Angel.”
No response.
“Nudge?”
“Yeah, okay. I was just thinking.”
I knew this one was going to come back and bite me in the butt.
13
Her mouth was so dry. Her head ached—everything ached. Angel blinked several times, trying to wake up. Above her was a dark brown plastic roof. A cage. A dog crate. A Kanine Kamper, size medium. Fuzzy thoughts pushed at her brain as she struggled to a sitting position. She knew where she was—she would recognize that chemical, disinfectant smell anywhere. She was at the School.
New new ’n’ wings and new new wings girl new
Quickly, Angel turned in the direction of the thoughts.
In a crate next to hers were two other children, younger than she. Their eyes, too big for their hungry faces, locked onto her.