Iggy crouched down and grabbed a handful of dusty dirt from the ground and spit into it. Then he walked over to Josh, who looked a little uncertain, and wrote his name on the guy’s face with his finger. One by one the brainwashed kids spit into their dirty hands and smeared “IG” on their own cheeks. It was freaky. And kind of amazing.
“And… this is why Iggy’s not the flock leader,” I whispered to Nudge.
The kids all started flapping their arms and shrieking, and since they looked a bit distracted, Iggy pulled Ella over to the side, near where the rest of us were hiding.
“Iggy?” Ella said, turning to look at him. “How did you find us?”
“Um… my heart… led me here,” Iggy said, thinking fast. “Now we just need to convince the rest of the flock to join the group. Gee, look—there they are!”
I took that as my cue and stepped out of the darkness toward Ella. She looked surprised to see me and even more surprised when Dylan sidled up next to her. But then her programming took over, and she needed to share the message with us.
“We must embrace the One Light.” Ella beamed.
“The One Light?” I asked. “Oh, yeah, the One Light. Remind me of its glory.”
“The One Light will show us how to become less and how to become more,” Ella said with conviction.
“What the heck does that mean?” I whispered to Dylan.
“Like, they’ll have genetic material stripped away and then replaced?” Dylan guessed quietly. I met his eyes and nodded, and then I remembered the last time I was out in the desert with him, at night. I turned away so he wouldn’t see me blush.
“Right, right,” said Iggy. “And when will this happen?”
“In five days,” Ella told him. “When the Doomsday Group calls us home, all across the world. The world will end, but we’ll go on living.”
My eyes widened. Not good news.
“You got it, El,” I said. “But first we’re just going to take a detour for a little therapeutic deprogramming session.”
“No,” Ella’s face darkened. “I want to stay here. Everyone needs to stay right here.”
But Dylan moved in quickly, grabbing her under one arm. Iggy got a grip under the other. They flew off into the night, with Ella shrieking between them and the Doomsdayers wildly flapping their arms down below.
45
AFTER THE FIRST five minutes at the convention center hosting Comic-Con, Fang thought he’d seen it all:
Attendees ranging from nine-year-old geeks to ninety-year-old scenesters in costumes featuring tentacles that moved, wings that moved (but were too small to actually support anyone’s weight), and antennae that moved, and even a pair of blinking eyes in the back of one guy’s head
Short, short skirts on hundreds of girls dressed as anime characters, Haruhi, and Lara Croft, with complimentary, as Ratchet put it, “boob salad”
Lots and lots of Trekkies
People dressed up like him and Max and the rest of the flock
People who wanted his autograph
And, worst of all, birdkid manga based on the flock that, unfortunately, featured him and Max in several torrid embraces
“Hot,” said Maya from behind him. Fang coughed and abruptly closed the Max manga.
But Maya just laughed. “Lead on,” she said, taking his arm.
The main room was the size of several football fields, with a thirty-foot ceiling and high windows. Blue carpeting defined aisles that were lined on either side by booths. On the perimeter were huge, ornate displays for Lucasfilm and Marvel Comics, among others.
Fang felt trapped, claustrophobic, like he was on a wild goose chase before the chase had even started. But, oddly, having Maya on his arm sort of helped. It wasn’t the kind of thing Max would have done. Maya wasn’t quite as hard as Max, not quite as tough. She was different, and Fang kind of… liked it.
Fang’s gang clustered near him as streams of people flowed through the big revolving doors at the front of the building.
“This is going to be awesome,” Holden raved as a pair of girls dressed in skimpy anime costumes pushed past them.
There was barely room to move. A big lizard’s long tail whacked Fang’s ankle, making him wince. Ratchet’s green eyes almost popped out of his head as a buxom model dressed as Wonder Woman strode past, bracelets sparkling.
“How could the Doomsday Group hold a rally inside a huge, crowded building like this?” Fang asked. Even he could hear the lack of confidence in his voice. He’d read online that this year’s convention expected more than one hundred thousand visitors over four days. All inside. Surrounding him. It was pretty much one of his top-five worst nightmares. What had he been thinking?
“Maybe they’ll have a special table or a booth,” Holden Squibb suggested.
More people swarmed past, most of them in costume. They saw sci-fi and fantasy characters, hundreds of comic book characters, old and new—people dressed up as virtually every kind of character, movie star, and species imaginable. But what hadn’t they seen? You got it. Anything remotely related to the Doomsday Group.
Wait a minute! That’s why the DG must be holding their rally here, Fang thought. Any kind of enhanced kid, any freak of nature, anything the least bit out of the ordinary wouldn’t be noticed here. They’d blend in perfectly, and no one would bat an eye, or multiple eyes, as the case may be.
Kate and Star looked at each other nervously as four Stormtroopers thundered down the hall, brandishing weapons.
Every hair on the back of Fang’s neck stood up when he realized that those weapons could be real. These people could all be spies. This whole thing could be a setup, a huge trap that he had walked right into. But this was the only lead he had.
“Oh, man…” Fang rubbed his chin. He looked at his gang—each member special, with amazing powers. But how were they at fighting? At escaping? Would it be the stupidest thing in the world to send them on their way, possibly putting them in danger?
“Okay, everyone, stay together,” he instructed in a low voice. “Keep your eyes open for anything having to do with the DG. A T-shirt, a bumper sticker, anyone mentioning it, anything at all, you tell me. Got it?”
“Got it,” said Star, as she saluted crisply.
Fang was starting to understand why he felt so freaked out. Here, among all these costumed people, he and Maya and the others were normal. They were average because everyone else was so extreme. Was that what the DG wanted? To enhance everyone, so everyone would be “special”?
But… if everyone was special, wouldn’t that really mean that no one was special at all?
46
“MAYBE THE PEOPLE who said there’d be a rally here didn’t know what they were talking about,” Ratchet suggested when the gang got outside the convention center. “I was listening to everyone, everywhere, and I didn’t—”
Suddenly he stopped dead in his tracks and held up a finger, adjusting his headphones. The others looked at him. He closed his eyes and very slowly turned his body slightly to the left. Fang waited, shrugging when Maya raised her eyebrows at him.
Ratchet opened his eyes. “It’s that way,” he said, pointing northwest.
Fang turned. There was another big building across the street. “Over there?”
Ratchet shook his head. “No. On a hill outside of town. I just heard some people talking about it a mile from here. The rally will start at sunset.” He grinned, confident in his skills, his dark face lighting up. “Superhearing.”
“That’s so cool,” said Holden.
It was cool, Fang thought. Useful. But sad. He wondered how many other kids like Ratchet had been experimented on.
They arrived at the site just as the sun was setting. Hundreds of kids—only kids—were milling around a large outdoor arena. Older kids stood at the gates, ushering everyone inside.
“Welcome, friends,” said a boy near the gate. “Thank you for coming. Thank you for being part of the solution.”
“You’re welcome,�
� Holden said, as the gang entered.
Inside, a large stage was set up in the middle of the arena. The stadium seating went all the way up to the top. Fang and his crew grabbed seats in the front row, close to an exit.
A teenage girl appeared onstage, and everyone clapped. She held up her hand for quiet, and instantly all were silent.
“Thank you for coming,” she said. Fang recognized her sweet, persuasive voice immediately.
“That’s the girl from the news,” Fang whispered to Maya. “The hypnotizing brainsucker.”
The girl looked healthy and happy, mature for her age, and really pretty. “I hope you’re all here for the Doomsday Group rally,” she went on. “If you thought this was a Susie Lee concert, you’re in the wrong place.” She smiled, and quiet laughter filled the stadium.
“So, who are we?” she said. “Well, my name is Beth, but that really doesn’t matter. What matters is that I believe in the One Light.”
All around Fang, kids leaned forward, nodding. Many repeated “the One Light, the One Light.”
“For those of you who are new, you might be wondering what the One Light is,” said Beth. The audience snickered, finding it hard to believe anyone would not know that. “Well, the One Light is… hope.”
Spontaneous cheers broke out.
“This chick is cool,” Ratchet said in Fang’s direction.
Fang looked at him sharply. “Don’t talk to anyone, and run if someone starts looking at you all crazy-eyed. Let me know if you suddenly feel… extra happy.”
“Oh, like that’s gonna happen,” Star muttered.
Ratchet turned to her, then Fang nudged Star in the ribs and glared at Ratchet.
“Hey, man, I’m cool,” said Ratchet. “I’m just saying it doesn’t sound all that bad, you know?”
Onstage, Beth smiled and raised her hands. Behind her, on a massive screen, images scrolled: children running through a field of wildflowers; a deer drinking from a bucolic crystalline stream; golden wheat waving in the breeze; healthy, happy adults sitting around a big dining table, raising their glasses to the camera; a little girl holding a tiny lamb in her lap; a woman weaving cloth on a loom. It went on and on, one idyllic scene after another.
“What does the One Light teach us?” Beth asked. “It teaches us that we’re responsible for ourselves and for our own actions. Right?”
The crowd murmured in agreement.
“The One Light is not about hatred,” said Beth. “The One Light is about love—love for each other, love for our Earth Mother, love for the animals in our care.”
The crowd shouted “Yes!”
Beth pointed a clicker at the screen, and a new series of images began. Now the pictures were of slash-and-burn farming, oil slicks, factories belching smoke, cities congested with traffic, nuclear power plants, thousands of chickens pressed together in crowded factory farms.
The audience groaned, upset by what they were seeing, and Fang noticed tears streaming down Kate’s cheeks.
“This is exactly what I’ve been talking about!” Kate whispered to the gang. “That’s where your Cluck-fil-A comes from!”
Still more disturbing images followed, of starving people, abandoned villages, trash-strewn lakes, and factories dumping pollutants into rivers.
With each new picture, the audience got a little bit louder, a little bit angrier.
“Um, I think Kate and Ratchet might be right. This doesn’t seem that far-fetched to me,” Maya said quietly.
“Something’s still off—think of every DG member we’ve seen,” Fang said.
“Who has done this to our Earth Mother?” Beth asked from the stage. “Was it me? No. Was it you?”
“No!” the audience shouted, shaking their heads.
“Is it enough for them to say they’re sorry? That they didn’t mean to do it? That they’ll try not to let it happen again?”
“No!” the audience roared.
“That’s right,” Beth said with a smile. “People who do stuff like this never learn. They need to be prevented from doing it again and again. We need to wipe the slate clean and start over in a brand-new world. We’re here to say, ‘You’ve done enough harm, enough damage!’ ” Beth was pacing around the stage.
The audience repeated, “Enough!”
“We want a clean world, clean air, healthy food, healthy animals!” Beth declared.
“Yeah!” the audience yelled.
“These sick, hateful jerks,” Maya said wryly, giving Fang a look.
“Something’s off,” he insisted.
“And all we need to do,” Beth said with a smile, “is kill all the humans.”
“Bingo,” said Fang.
47
“STOP! STOP!” ELLA sputtered. “You’re killing me! Please! Stop!” tears flowed down her cheeks as she shrieked and thrashed and tried to kick Dylan and Iggy.
I would never get used to this.
We didn’t know whether the cold shower had made Iggy vulnerable during his deprogramming or if Angel had just gotten really good at mind hacking, but in the absence of a glacial stream in the middle of the desert, we figured that dousing Ella in a natural hot spring couldn’t hurt. Dylan and Iggy were struggling to hang on to Ella’s hands, and their faces were flushed and damp from the steam. I’d tested the water first—no reason to scald my half sister or cook her like an egg—and I knew it was pretty dang hot.
“How about now?” Iggy panted. “She’s not made out of cotton balls, you know—my arm’s tired.”
“Hang on a sec,” Angel said, looking worn-out herself. “I’m almost done.”
Ella suddenly slumped into the water, all fight gone.
“Here she comes,” I said, watching her.
Slowly Ella raised her head, blinking and shaking water from her face. I nodded to Dylan, and he and Iggy brought her over to the fire we’d built.
“What are you doing? Are you crazy?” Ella asked. She was sopping wet from head to foot, her long, dark hair plastered to her back. She wiped the water from her eyes and stared at me, confused. We continued to watch her.
She blinked and looked around. “Where are we?”
“Middle of the desert,” I said, biting into an apple.
Ella blinked hard, studying each of our faces. “Iggy? What’s… going on?”
“Sorry about the hot spring,” he said, putting his arm around her. He eased her closer to the fire, then wrung water out of her hair. She looked disoriented and upset but definitely like herself. Iggy brought her up to speed.
“Where’s Mom?” Ella finally asked, looking at me, and I took a deep breath. My eyes met Dylan’s, and he stepped forward, kneeling in front of Ella.
“Your mom and Jeb left the house while Max and I were gone. They didn’t tell anyone where they were going. They didn’t take the car, and we can’t find them.”
Ella’s eyes grew alarmed. “Were they kidnapped?”
“Maybe,” Dylan said hesitantly. “Or maybe they’re being influenced by the same thing that influenced you and the others.” He spoke gently, slowly, giving Ella time to absorb what he was saying. I was… impressed.
Ella started crying, and I put my arm around her shoulders, mouthing “Thanks” to Dylan. And I meant it.
He gave me a smile, not quirky and crooked like Fang’s, but open and sincere. And, weirdly, I felt my heart skip a beat.
“I’m so sorry, Ella” I said, rubbing her back. “I know it’s hard. It’s hard not knowing who to trust or where to turn. My life has been so weird that I pretty much expect to be betrayed, expect weird things to happen. But I know it’s different for you.”
“I can’t believe it!” Ella sobbed. Iggy stroked her hair, which had started drying in the warmth of the fire.
“Listen,” I said, “I was thinking. How about we take you to your aunt’s place tomorrow after a good night’s rest? I’m sure Tia Cita will let you hang out there till we figure out what’s going on with Mom. We’re going to find Mom and Jeb and get the r
eal scoop. Maybe we’ll be surprised. Maybe we’ll need to rescue them. I’m not sure.”
“No!” Ella said, her face still streaked with tears. “I’m going with you! I’m staying with you and Iggy!”
I shook my head. “I wish you could, but we’re going to be flying. I promise we’ll come back for you. Okay?”
Ella didn’t look like it was okay, but she nodded yes and wiped her eyes. We sat there together in the moonlight, sharing food we had “acquired” from Ella’s friends back at the campfire. Almost everyone I cared about was here, all in one place.
With a couple of major exceptions.
48
THE CROWD WAS so loud, Fang almost jumped. The kids were all on their feet now, and Fang motioned to the others to stand up. Reluctantly, Fang’s gang joined the chant: “Save the planet! Kill the humans!”
“Whoa!” Holden said next to Fang, scanning the crowd. “When we got here, everyone looked weird and happy, but pretty normal, you know? Now look around.”
Fang quickly studied the gathered assembly.
“Oh, my God,” Maya said slowly. “Where did they come from?”
“I guess they must have been drawn in by the crowd,” Fang replied. “They must have been hiding their… freakiness, at first. Kind of like you and I hide our wings sometimes.”
“We’re different, but we’re okay,” said Star. “But these guys…”
“What happened to them?” Kate asked. “The same thing that happened to us? Will we become like that?”
One of every ten kids in the audience was… genetically altered. Growing up in the School, trapped in their dog crates, Fang and the flock had seen lots of genetic combinations that didn’t turn out as cute kids sporting big wings. And he was seeing it again, right here.
They weren’t horrible disasters—they could breathe and walk and talk. Some of them even looked pretty human, except for, say, scaly skin or lizard eyes or claws for hands. But others were definitely freakish, and a bunch of them looked as though their combinations were not meshing entirely and breaking down.
“Will you join me in a song?” Beth asked over the frenzied roar. She stood center stage and began to sing. Gradually, the audience stopped chanting and began singing.
Angel: A Maximum Ride Novel mr-7 Page 10
