“Where are the other kids? The mutants?” I asked Fang. So much was going on now. It was hard to keep it all straight, but it had to be done, so I did it.
“The girl with wings took them.” He shrugged. “She didn’t want to stay with us. Wouldn’t take no for an answer. Sound like anyone you know?”
I waved him off-I didn’t want to talk about it now, didn’t want to talk about anything.
I could still see Ari’s eyes rolling back, could hear his neck snapping.
“Just walk. Keep walking,” I said, and started to limp forward. “Walk the walk.”
It was almost two minutes later that I realized Angel was carrying something besides Celeste.
“Angel?” I stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. “What’s that?”
Something small and black and furry squirmed under her arm.
“It’s my dog,” said Angel, and her chin went stiff, like it always did when she was about to get stubborn.
“Your what?” Fang said, peering at the object in question.
We all gathered around Angel, but then I remembered how conspicuous we were. “Let’s move,” I muttered. “But this discussion isn’t over, Angel.”
In Battery Park, down at the tip of Manhattan, a small, abandoned band shell was almost completely hidden by overgrown rhododendrons and yew bushes. We huddled under its shelter as the rain washed dust off the city. I was wiped. I felt like I had absolutely nothing left.
“Okay,” I said, sitting up straighter, trying to put energy into my voice. “Angel, explain the dog.”
“He’s my dog,” she said firmly, not looking at me. “From the Institute.”
Fang sent me a look that said, If you let her keep this dog, I will kill you.
“Angel, we cannot have a dog with us,” I said sternly.
The dog wiggled out of her arms to sit at her side. It looked pretty normal as far as I could tell. Its bright, black doggy eyes shone at me, and it was grinning in a friendly way. Its short, stumpy tail was wagging. Its nose sniffed the air happily, excited by all the new scents in the world.
Angel gathered the dog to her. The Gasman edged closer to look at it.
“And besides, you have Celeste,” I pointed out.
“I love Celeste,” Angel said loyally. “But I couldn’t leave Total behind.”
“Total?” Iggy asked.
“That’s what his card said,” Angel explained.
“Totally a mutant dog who will probably turn on us and kill us in our sleep,” Fang said.
The dog cocked his head to one side, his grin fading a moment. Then his tail wagged again, insult forgotten.
Fang looked at me: I got to be the bad cop and lay down the law.
“Angel,” I began cajolingly. “We can’t always feed ourselves. We’re on the run. It’s dangerous out here. It’s all we can do to deal with us.”
Angel set her jaw and looked at her sneakers. “He’s the most wonderful dog in the whole wide world,” she said. “So there.”
I looked at Fang helplessly.
“Angel,” he said severely. She looked up at him with wide blue eyes, her face grubby, clothes filthy, cornrows all fuzzy.
“The first time you don’t take care of him, boom, he’s out,” Fang said. “Understood?”
Angel’s face lit up, and she threw herself into Fang’s arms while I gaped at him. He hugged Angel back, then caught my expression. He shrugged and let Angel go.
“She made Bambi eyes at me,” he whispered. “You know I can’t resist it when she does Bambi eyes.”
“Total!” Angel cried. “You can stay!”
She hugged the small wiggling black body, then drew back to beam at him. Total gave a happy yip, then made an excited leap.
And our jaws dropped. We all stared in disbelief. Total almost hit the top of the band shell, about sixteen feet above us.
“Oh,” said Angel, and Total landed, almost bottomed out, then jumped up again and licked her face.
“Yeah, oh,” I said.
133
That night we made a small camp fire and sat near the water in a part of New York called Staten Island. We were licking our wounds. Especially me. I hurt all over. But I was also unbelievably excited about what I’d found at the Institute.
“Okay, we’re all safe, all together.” I took a deep breath and slowly released it. “We found the Institute and maybe we got exactly what we went there for. Guys, I found names, addresses, even pictures of people who might be our parents.”
I could see surprise, shock, incredible excitement on all of their faces, but also hints of fear and trepidation. Can you imagine what it’s like to meet your parents when you’re somewhere between six and fourteen? I sure couldn’t.
“What are you waiting on?” asked Iggy. “The envelope, please. Open it, already. Then somebody tell me what it says.”
I felt a trembling sense of elation as I started pulling out the pages I’d taken from the Institute. Here were the answers to the mysteries of our lives, right? The others gathered around me, leaning over my shoulders, helping me smooth the printed pages flat without smearing the ink.
“Max, what did Jeb mean-you killed your brother?” Nudge asked out of the blue. The question was so typical of her-off in her own world again. “He didn’t mean that Ari was your brother, did he? You guys weren’t-I mean, triple yuk-”
I held up my hand, trying not to shriek from bottled-up emotion. “I don’t know, Nudge,” I said, forcing myself to sound calm. “I can’t think about it right now. Let’s read these pages. When someone gets to something interesting, yell.” I handed out the wrinkled stacks.
“Who’s your daddy?” crowed the Gasman. “Who’s your mommy?”
134
Angel started reading slowly, sounding out words. ‘This doesn’t make sense to me,“ she said after about ten seconds.
Then the Gasman sat up. “Here I am!” he shouted. “Here I am!”
“Let me see, Gazzy.”
The Gasman handed me his stack and I pored over it. Sure enough, I found his name: “F28246eff (the Gasman).” My heart nearly stopped.
“Here’s an address!” I said, tracing my finger down a page. “It’s in Virginia!”
“I’ve got an address too, and some names,” said Fang. “And my name. And, oh man, there are pictures.”
“Let us see, let us see!”
Everybody gathered around Fang, and even though he’s usually Mr. Calm, Cool, and Collected, he was shaking. We all were. I myself was trembling like the temp had dipped about fifty degrees.
Nudge was pointing at a photocopy in Fang’s hand. It showed a man and woman who seemed to be in their thirties. “He looks just like you, Fang. And so does she. They’ve got to be your mom and dad! No doubt.”
Her voice choked up, and suddenly we were all crying, except Fang, of course, who just muttered, “Maybe, maybe not.”
Then everybody was looking through the pages, searching for their parents. Nobody made a sound. Until-
“Here they are! My mom and dad!” Gazzy shouted. “One sixty-seven Cortlandt Lane in Alexandria, Virginia! Angel, look! This is them. It’s totally amazing. It’s a miracle. They look like me! And you too, Angel!”
Angel stared at the picture silently for a moment, and then her face crumpled and she was sobbing. I instantly reached out and held her small body close, stroking her hair. Angel’s usually no softie, and when I felt her shake with sobs, my chest ached with her pain. Talk about your Kodak moment. Or Fuji. Whatever.
“There’s lots of numbers and nonsense printed all over these pages too,” Fang said, bringing me back to the here and now.
I saw the same thing. “Why scramble just some of the information? It doesn’t make sense.”