"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 them 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?"
"No, no, but-," said the woman.
"But nothing!" the headmaster snapped. "Surely you can handle this one simple task, Ms. Cox. Put the files where you can find them but no one else can. Or is that too much for you?"
Iggy shook his head. The headmaster was such a total jerk. He hated him. Someone should teach him a lesson.
"No," said the woman, sounding defeated. "I can do it."
"Very well then."
Iggy heard the headmaster turn and stalk off, and Ms. Cox sighed right outside the file room. Then the door opened. Iggy heard the slight crackling buzz of the overhead fluorescent light coming on. He felt Gazzy tense beside him.
A metal drawer opened. Papers rustled. The drawer closed. Come on, leave, Iggy thought. But instead the footsteps came closer, in their direction. No, turn around, leave, Iggy mentally urged her. If only he could do mind control like Angel. Next to him, Gazzy was holding his breath, not making a sound. If she found them, it would be very bad.
The light snapped off. Footsteps left the room, and the door closed again. The Gasman breathed out at last.
"Close call," he whispered, and Iggy nodded, his mouth dry. "Let's split."
They were almost back to the stairs when the door at the top of the stairs opened. They froze, with Iggy straining to hear what was happening. The next moment, they heard voices coming from the other end of the hall. They were trapped, with people coming from both sides.
"Crap!" Gazzy whispered.
"Do you have the thing?" Iggy asked tensely.
"Yeah. But Max said-"
"We're going to get caught!" Iggy interrupted him. "Get the thing!"
64
"Okay, now you're creeping me out," I told Nudge. We were in the school library, and it was like she was able to extract information from the computer by osmosis, practically. We didn't even need Mr. Lazzara the librarian's help. First, we went on Fang's blog and saw that he was adding stuff on a daily basis-his point of view on what had happened to us so far. Now he was adding drawings as well. Next, I had Nudge search for more ter Borcht mentions and also for any notices about missing infants during any of the years we were born. We couldn't narrow down the months, but the years we were pretty sure about.
"Okay, fourteen years ago," Nudge said, concentrating on the screen. "We might have the most luck with that, because there's three of you." She scrolled down. "Unless, you know, one of you was born in the fall of one year and the others were born in the spring of the next year. But in general I think we-"
"Is this school related?" The chilly, hate-filled voice, quivering with suppressed rage, could belong only to... the headhunter.
"We're looking up newspaper articles," Nudge said innocently. "For civics class."
That's my girl. Able to lie on a moment's notice.
"Really?" Mr. Pruitt sneered, his lip curling. "And exactly what part of the curriculum-"
Boom.
The whole library shuddered slightly. Mr. Pruitt and I looked at each other in surprise, then his fuzzy eyebrows came together. The next instant, the school's fire alarms started clanging, making us all jump.