"Yep, field trip. The whole school is off to the White House, home of our beloved leader. Which means no classes, no lectures, and probably no homework."
I smiled at J.J. I liked her style. She wasn't all stuck-up and stiff. Didn't take things too seriously. Like, well, I did, for instance.
"All righty, then," I said. "Field trip it is."
"Our class is over here," a girl's voice said.
Iggy frowned. He was concentrating on sounds, listening for the scrape of Fang's boot against the pavement. One second he'd been there, and the next, Iggy had been surrounded by a sea of voices he couldn't sort through.
A hand gently touched his arm. "Our class is over here," the voice said again, and he recognized it. This girl sat eight feet away from him, due northeast, in their classroom.
Iggy was embarrassed, standing there like a blind idiot, not knowing where to go.
"Our teacher changed direction on us with no warning," the girl explained. He remembered her name was Tess.
"Oh," Iggy muttered. He moved where she was subtly tugging him. "Thanks."
"No prob," Tess said easily. "You know, I was so relieved when they put you in our class. Now I won't stick out so much."
Because you're a blind mutant freak? Iggy thought, confused.
"You know, tall for my age, like you. People always say, Oh, be glad about it-you can be a basketball player, or a model or something. But when you're fourteen, a girl, and five ten, the whole thing pretty much sucks," she finished. "But now I'm not alone. We match."
Iggy laughed, and then he heard Fang's step, felt Fang barely brush against his jacket, telling him where he was.
"Tess?" the teacher called.
"Got to go-room leader and all," said Tess. "I'll find you later, when we're walking around, okay?"
"Okay," said Iggy, feeling dazed. He heard Tess's light step hurry away. What had just happened? He felt like he'd been hit by a truck.
"You're slayin' 'em, big guy," said Fang.
"Of course, there's far too much to see and do in Washington DC for us to cover everything today," said one of the teachers, standing at the front of the bus. She raised her voice to be heard over the engine. "This morning we'll tour the Capitol and see where the House of Representatives and the Senate meet. Then we'll spend half an hour at the Vietnam Memorial, the Wall. After lunch, we'll go to the White House."
Angel's seat buddy, Caralyn, oohed and looked excited.
"I can't wait to see the White House," Angel said, and Caralyn nodded.
"I wish we were going to the Museum of Natural History," Caralyn said. "Have you been there?"
"Uh-uh."
"It's really cool. It has dinosaur skeletons, and a huge stuffed whale hanging from the ceiling, and meteors and diamonds."
"Sounds cool," said Angel. Maybe she would ask Anne to bring them there. Maybe she should just get her teacher to think of detouring there today. No, maybe not. If Max found out, she would be mad. Angel patted Celeste, tucked into the waistband of her plaid school skirt, and decided to just go with the program. For now.
60
If you're ever feeling a lack of middle-aged white men, just pop into the Capitol. Not so much the House of Representatives, which has a bit more color and texture, but the Senate-jeez. Yes, let's have more testosterone running the country.
In the Capitol building we watched a short movie about our Founding Fathers and how they tried to create a perfect system of government. They sounded so freaking sincere, the whole "perfect union" and "all men are created equal" thing. Except of course for the men they owned as household property. Not to put a fly in the ointment.
But despite all that, hearing their words, seeing the Constitution, getting the whole story of what they were trying to do-well, you gotta give 'em credit. They really were trying to set up something good and fair. Kind of in a way that no other country, before or since, had tried to do.
Long and short of it: Democracy gets a big thumbs-up from me.
The Vietnam Wall was awful. A huge, smooth black granite monolith covered with names of people who died in a war. Very depressing. I saw Nudge make the mistake of touching the Wall. She almost doubled over-her ability to sense people and emotions through leftover vibrations must have been mind-blowing here. A couple of her new friends put their arms around her, and I saw one pull out a tissue. I would talk to her about it later.
Then the White House.
Well. It is one big, fancy hacienda, let me tell you. Not a castle. Not as froufrou as the Taj Mahal or Graceland. But still mucho impressive.
You know, being in the White House-surrounded by invisible state-of-the-art security systems, as well as extremely visible guards with guns-I felt the safest I had in ages. If anyone wanted to get to us, they'd have to go through White House security first. Which I was comfortable with.
We saw the "Parrot" collection of rooms (Red, Blue, Green), as well as the gi-normous State Dining Hall. The library was weensy, as libraries go. There was a whole room just for presidential china, which I got a kick out of. What next? The presidential pantry?
After a while, even with the different colors, the rooms started melding together: undersized antique furniture, fancy curtains, famous paintings of famous people I sometimes recognized. When I thought about all the history that had actually happened where I stood, I almost got a little chill. Or it could have been the inadequate heating.
It just cracked me up that here I was, Maximum Ride, in person, on a school field trip. I mean, how freakish was that? This past week was the first time I'd ever gone to school in my life. I'd grown up in a dog crate. I had freaking wings. But here I was, commingling with the best of 'em, playing nicely with others. Sometimes I just impress the h out of myself.
Finally our guide rounded us all up in the visitors' center.
"Come on, we have ten minutes to get souvenirs," said J.J., heading to a display case. I had no one to buy souvenirs for: We can't collect stuff. It would weigh us down too much.
I saw Nudge and Gazzy looking through the books.
"Wasn't this great?" Nudge asked excitedly. "I can't believe we're in the White House! I want to be president someday."
"I'll be vice president," the Gasman offered.
"You guys would be great," I said politely. Yes, they could run on the Mutant Party ticket, with a freak-of-nature platform. No prob. I'm sure America is ready for that.
I looked around and saw Fang. The Red-Haired Wonder was hovering by him, of course, and it irked me to all get-out. How could he even stand her, with her smiles and her agreeableness? I didn't get it. I also saw Iggy talking to a girl-she was touching some State Department silk scarves and laughing with him. I hoped she was nice. And not an Eraser.
But where was the ever-so-adorable-and-scary Angel?
I surveyed the crowd. Besides our school group, there were random assorted tourists, another tour group, and... no Angel. Not anywhere. That little girl sure had a talent for disappearing.
"Nudge. Where's Angel?"
Nudge looked around. "I don't see her. Maybe the bathroom?"
I was already walking toward Fang. "Excuse me," I said tightly, interrupting the Red-Haired Wonder's adoration, "I don't see An-Ariel."
Fang scanned the crowd. The Red-Haired Wonder smiled at me.
"You're Nick's sister, right?"
Please, someone save me. "Uh-huh."
Fang turned back to me. "I'll go look."
I followed him, heading for the doorway we'd all come through. This was all I needed. We were trying to blend, to not stand out, and she went and got lost in the freaking White House. Where getting lost would no doubt cause somewhat of a hullabaloo. Should I ask her teacher? Alert a guard? Maybe she was just lost, or maybe she'd been kidnapped by Erasers. Again. So much for my feeling of security. Dang it.
There were three entrances to this room, a guard at each one. Where to start?
Then an excited ripple spread through the crowd, a soft murmur of voices
. I was taller than a lot of the other kids and I quickly scanned the faces I could see. The crowd parted, and Angel came toward me, a little smile on her face. Celeste dangled from one hand, and I noticed incongruously that we had to send that bear through the wash but soon.
Then I saw who was holding Angel's other hand.
The president. Or a stunning facsimile.
My jaw dropped as I stared at them. Several black-suited men with earphones scurried into the room, looking alarmed.
"Hi, Max," said Angel. "I got lost. Mr. Danning brought me back."
"Hi, uh, Ariel," I said weakly, searching her face. I glanced up at the president. He looked so lifelike, much more so than he did on TV. "Uh, thanks. Sir."
He gave me a warm smile. "No problem, miss. Your sister knew you'd be worried. You've got yourself a remarkable little girl here."
Yeah? You mean the wings? Or was it the infiltrating-your-brain part? Oh, God, I had a bad feeling about this. I studied Angel, but as usual she looked wide-eyed and innocent. Not that that had ever meant anything.
"Yes, we certainly do," I said. "Thank you for finding her. And bringing her back."
Angel's teacher fell all over herself, shaking the president's hand and thanking him and apologizing all at the same time.
"My pleasure." The president-the authentic president of the United States-leaned down and smiled at Angel. "You take care now," he said. "Don't go getting lost anymore."
"I won't," Angel said. "Thanks for finding me."
He patted her blond curls, making them bounce, then waved at the crowd before turning and heading out of the visitors' center. The black-suited men hurried after him like ants on speed.
Every eye in the room was on us. I kneeled down to Angel's level and spoke through a clenched smile. "I can't believe this happened," I said. "Are you okay?"
Angel nodded. "I was worried, 'cause I looked up and my whole class was gone. So I went down a hall, and then another hall, and then the president met me. But nothing weird happened. None of those guys turned into Erasers or anything."
"Okaaay," I said, my heart still beating fast. "Just stick close from now on. I don't want to lose you again."
"Okay, Max," Angel said solemnly, taking my hand.
I also didn't want her playing mind-puppet with the leader of the free world, but I was going to save that conversation till later.
61
"Zoom in." Jeb leaned closer to the black-and-white monitor.
Ari wordlessly rewound the tape and zoomed in. Again he watched as the crowd in the visitors' center rippled outward like a school of fish. Again the smiling countenance of the president appeared in the top left corner of the screen. Ari zoomed the focus in on the president and the blond kid by his side.
Jeb examined the screen intently, touching the glass as if he could touch the images themselves. Ari watched Jeb's eyes focus on Angel, on Max, on the president. His gut tightened. What would it take to make Jeb look at him like that? He'd never cared about Ari when he was just a regular boy. Then Ari had been turned into a mutant freak, just like the bird kids. And still his own father had no time for him, no interest in him. What would it take? Not even dying had helped, which, face it, would have been most people's trump card.
It was time. Past time. Time to take the freaks down. When they were completely gone, just footnotes in a science text, then Jeb would have to realize how important Ari was.
He watched as Max's eyes widened on the screen. With those jackets on, you could hardly tell these kids were mutant freaks. Ari knew he himself was pretty identifiable. His retrofitted wings were too large to fold neatly up against his spine. His skin was rough from morphing in and out. And his features-Ari couldn't quite put his finger on it, but there was something odd about his features, maybe from having a seven-year-old face stretched to fit a man-sized Eraser.
Max smiled at the president nervously. Even on a tiny black-and-white screen, she was striking. Tall, lean, sandy-streaked hair. He knew that under her jacket her arms were whipcord tough, strong. He could still feel the bruise from her last kick on his ribs. He scowled.
And there was his father, watching the screen as if looking at a Thanksgiving dinner. As if they were his kids, instead of Ari. As if he was proud of them and wanted them back.
But he wasn't going to get them back. Not ever. Ari was going to make sure of that. Plans had been made. Wheels set in motion. Jeb would be angry at first. But he would come around.
Ari covered his mouth to hide his smile.
62
"Max?"
I looked up to see Nudge standing in the doorway of my room, shifting from foot to foot with excitement.
"Yeah?"
"I think I know the secret of the code."
"Do tell," I said, once we'd all gathered in her room.
"I think it's from a book," she said. "I mean, okay, it could be some computerized code, in which case we'll never break it. But I think they want us to break it-want you to break it, as part of your testing."
"Yeah, I guess I'm failing this particular test."
"Not yet," Nudge said. "There're still a couple of things we haven't tried. Like if the numbers all relate back to a book."
"Which book?" asked Iggy.
"A big book, with lots of words. A book that wouldn't be hard for you to find," said Nudge. "Something all over the place, that a lot of people have."
"The Da Vinci Code?" the Gasman suggested.
Iggy made a pained expression. "No. Like the Bible, nimrod. It's everywhere. In hotels, people's houses, schools. It's something Max could find easily. Right, Nudge?"
"Yeah," Nudge said.
"I don't understand," said Angel.
"Like, there's strings of numbers, right?" said Nudge. "It would be like what Fang saw with the maps. But now one number is a book, another one is a chapter, another is a verse, and another would be one word from that verse. Then you take all the words and see what they add up to."
"Huh," I said, thinking. "Do we have a Bible here?"
Nudge reached down and pulled out a thick volume. "Anne had one downstairs. I'm borrowing it. Trying to strengthen my relationship with the Lord."
Four hours later my brain was fried. Anne had made the younger kids go to bed. Iggy, Fang, and I were still trying to make the freaking numbers work with the Bible. But no matter how we played it, nothing was panning out.
"Maybe it's the wrong version of the Bible," Fang said tiredly. "There are different versions."
"This is the King James," said Iggy, rubbing his forehead. "The most common one in America."
"And what do we have?" I rolled my shoulders and rotated my head from side to side.
Fang looked at his notes. "Thou. Upon. Fasting. Round. Always. Saul. Dwell. Fruit. Affliction. Didst. Delight. Dwell again."
I frowned, shaking my head in frustration. "Nothing. No pattern, no meaning. The Bible was a great idea, but maybe we're doing it wrong."
"So I guess we just kiss the world good-bye," Fang said after a pause.
I gave him a look. "So funny. You're quite the wit."
He gave the barest hint of a smug smile. "The ladies like it."
Iggy burst out laughing, but I just stared at Fang, appalled. How could he joke about something like that? Sometimes I felt as if I didn't even know him anymore.
I stood up, letting my pages fall to the ground. "I'm beat. See you in the morning." I stood up and left without another look at either of them.
"I don't suppose you took a look at my blog yet?" Fang called out. I didn't bother to answer... that I had. And it was good. The boy had some poetry in him.
63
"Cool," said the Gasman. "Glad I ran into you." They were surrounded by an interweaving stream of voices, as kids all around them changed classes. It was before lunch, and Iggy had been on his way to the library when Gazzy had touched his arm.
Iggy nodded. "We'll have to remember we have the same recess on... what day is this?" The voices around the
m thinned and started to fade away as he and Gazzy turned a corner.
"Friday. C'mon, let's check this out."
Iggy heard Gazzy open a door. From the sound of the echo, he knew they were facing a big space that went down. "What is this, the basement?"
"Yeah. I've been wanting to explore a bit."
"Cool."
Gazzy touched the back of Iggy's hand, and Iggy concentrated on what was echoing barely perceptibly around him. At the bottom of the stairs, air currents and the slightest sounds told him they were in a large, relatively empty space.
"What's it like?" he said, lowering his voice.
"Big," said Gazzy. "Basementy. There're some doors. Let's see what's behind 'em."
Iggy heard the Gasman turn a doorknob and felt the breeze as the door swung toward them.
"Um, school supplies," the Gasman said, moving a few feet away. He paused, and Iggy heard another door open.
"Sports equipment."
"Anything good?"
"It's all too big to carry-couldn't hide it. Unless we had our backpacks with us."
"Note to self," said Iggy.
"Right."
Iggy's hand shot out and touched Gazzy's shoulder. He held one finger to his lips and listened hard. Yes: footsteps.
"Someone coming down," he said in the barest whisper.
Gazzy took Iggy's sleeve and they walked quickly and silently a few yards down the hall. Another door opened, and the Gasman pulled Iggy inside and shut it behind them with a slight snick.
"Where are we?" Iggy breathed.
"Looks like a file room," whispered Gazzy. "Let's get behind some cabinets, just in case."
Iggy followed Gazzy to the back of the room, sensing tall things on either side of them. He felt Gazzy hunch down on the floor and crouched down too, just as they heard voices, getting louder.
"But what do you want me to do, Mr. Pruitt?" a woman asked, sounding flustered.
"I want you to make sure those files are lost," said the headmaster in his horrible, sneering voice. "We can't destroy them, but we can't have them found either. Is that totally beyond your comprehension?"
Two Schools Out - Forever Page 10
