I almost chuckled at her naïveté.
56
Night, Tiffany-Krystal,” I said, grinning, and Nudge grinned back. We stacked our fists on top of each other and tapped the backs with our other hands.
“Night,” said Nudge, lying back on her comfy pillows. “Max? We are going to stay for a while, aren’t we? We’re not leaving, like, tomorrow, right?”
“No,” I said quietly. “Not tomorrow. Just—be on your toes, and try to blend, okay?”
“Okay. I do blend pretty good, I think,” Nudge said. “I have three friends I sit with at lunch. My teacher seems to like me.”
“Of course she likes you. How could she not?” I kissed Nudge’s forehead and left, heading down the hall to tuck in Angel.
Pushing open her door, I saw that Anne was already there, pulling the covers up to Angel’s chin.
“You had a long day, sweetie,” said Anne, stroking Angel’s hair off her face. “Get some good sleep now.”
“Okay,” said Angel.
“And Ariel? Don’t let Total up on the bed,” Anne said. “He has his own bed.”
“Uh-huh,” said Angel agreeably. I rolled my eyes. Total would be on the bed before Anne was five steps down the hall.
“Good night, sleep tight,” Anne said, standing up.
“Don’t let the bedbugs bite,” Angel answered cheerfully.
Anne smiled at us and went out.
Total hopped up on the bed. Angel held up the covers for him and he wriggled underneath them, resting his head on a corner of Angel’s pillow. I tucked them both in.
“Would it kill her to turn up the heat?” Total grumbled sleepily. “This place is an icebox. You could practically hang meat in here.”
Angel and I grinned at each other.
“You all right?” I asked.
She nodded. “I hated seeing the Erasers today.”
“You and me both. Ari really creeps me out. Do you pick up anything from him?”
Angel thought. “Dark. Red. Angry. Torn. Confused. He hates us.”
I frowned at this grim picture of what was happening inside Ari’s head.
“And he loves you,” Angel added. “He loves you a lot.”
57
I backed out of Angel’s room, trying not to look shocked. Jeez. Ari loved me? Like a little kid? Like a big Eraser? Was that why he kept trying to kill me? He needed to read an article about how to send clearer signals.
A sound behind me made me turn around fast, to see that I’d almost run into Fang coming down the hall.
“They down?”
I nodded. “They’re beat. School really takes it out of them. And then, of course, Erasers.”
“Yeah.”
We saw Anne come out of Nudge’s room. She smiled and mouthed “Good night” at us, then headed downstairs. I thought about her being the last person Nudge would see before she went to sleep, and my jaw tightened.
“Let them enjoy it while they can,” said Fang, reading my expression in that irritating way he had.
“She’s taking my place,” I said without meaning to.
Fang shrugged. “You’re a fighter, not a mom.”
I almost gasped, stung. “I can’t be both? You think I’m a lousy mom? What, because I’m not girly enough, is that it?” I was really mad, the tensions of the day boiling over in me. “Not like that girl with the red hair, stuck to you like glue!” My hands came up and, without thinking, I shoved Fang hard.
Since this was Fang, he didn’t just take it like a gentleman. He immediately shoved me back, almost making me hit the wall. I was mortified—not only because I was attacking my best friend, but because I’d sounded like a jealous idiot. Which I wasn’t. At all.
I stood there, breathing fast, feeling my cheeks flame with humiliation and anger. My hands clenched and unclenched, and I wanted to disappear.
I felt his dark eyes looking at me and waited for him to tease me about being upset over the Red-Haired Wonder.
He stepped closer to me, till his face was only inches away from mine. We’d been the same height for most of our lives, but in the past two years he’d shot past me. Now my eyes were level with his shoulder.
“You’re girly enough,” he said quietly. “As I recall.”
New embarrassment washed over me—he was referring to when I’d kissed him at the beach, weeks ago. He just had girls throwing themselves at him left and right, didn’t he?
I gritted my teeth and didn’t say anything.
“And you’ve been a great mom. But you’re only fourteen and you shouldn’t have to be a mom. Give yourself ten years or so.”
He went past me, brushing my shoulder as I stood there stiffly. He meant a real mom, with my own kids. I definitely considered the flock my own kids, but Fang meant kids I made myself. Like the Voice had said earlier.
Right then, I just hated my life, in a whole new, refreshing way.
“By the way,” Fang called from down the hallway. “I’ve started a blog. I’m using the computers at school. Against all the rules, of course. Fang’s Blog.” He chuckled, as only Fang can chuckle. “Check it out sometime . . . Mom.”
58
It was cold out tonight, but the new Max didn’t even feel it. She edged back on her branch, pressing her spine against the rough bark of the tree trunk. The binoculars were heavy on their cord around her neck. Drawing her knees up, she hugged herself, feeling a warm tear escape her eye and roll down her cheek. She was watching the other Max all the time, watching and learning. But it was hard. It was painful.
“Oh, Max,” she whispered, seeing the other Max far away, through the window of Anne’s house. “I know just how you feel. You and I are always alone, no matter how many other people are around.”
59
At school the next morning, we were greeted by the sight of several large tour buses taking up practically the whole parking lot. I saw my new friend J.J., and she waved and came over to me as the rest of the flock melted into the crowd.
“This is a special treat,” J.J. said cheerfully. “A field trip.”
“Field trip?” I pictured us all out in the fields, tracking something.
“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 la
ter, 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.
Maximum Ride 02 Page 10
