Saving the World and Other Extreme Sports Page 12

  The Flyboys were not so fortunate.

  One after another, they plowed right into the sign, setting off electrical charges that shorted them out and made quite a few of them explode like metallic, furry popcorn. And if you think that’s a gross description, be glad you weren’t there, being pelted by the little pieces. I think only about six or seven of them managed to avoid the carnage, and I have no idea what happened to them.

  After we’d busted our sides laughing, we blew out of there, and now we’re hiding. Again.

  Us: roughly 200. Hard to tell with all the parts flying.

  Them: 0

  Take that, you whitecoat schmucks. Now you owe California a new Hollywood sign.

  —Fang, somewhere in the West

  67

  Post a Comment on Fang’s Blog

  Busted-up Hollywood

  108 comments

  Kewl dude 326 said...

  O man Fang thats so awesome, i mean when u guys popped all the flyboys. i would a been bustin my gut 2. Keep flyin, man.

  San Diego

  11:51 AM

  Sugargrrl said...

  Dear Fang,

  I’m so glad your alright. I hate those flyboys and hope they all crash and burn. If u need a place to stay in Roanoke, Virginia, just e-mail me.

  12:14 PM

  Heather said...

  We should all make posses and search everywhere for labs and Schools and stuff! There are millions and millions of kids in the world, and we can fix what the grown-ups have polluted and destroyed! Landfills and oil slicks and endangered species and wiping out forests and driving gas hogs and not caring about the environment and not caring about animals! Their time of destroying everything is over! It’s time for Green Kids to unite!

  Heather Schmidt

  President, GreenKidsforaGreenerPlanet.org

  12:57 PM

  Streetfightr said...

  Us kidz got 2 take over! De groneups hav recked everything! Dere destroyin r whole planet! De kidz shuld run everything! Dey want us 2 b quiet! We won’t b quiet no more!

  Brooklyn

  1:20 PM

  Chen Wei said...

  Fang, I was wondering: do u have a girlfriend?

  Hong Kong

  P.S. I am 15 years old but look younger.

  2:40 PM

  Carlos said...

  I say we burn all the science labs! Make all the grown-ups into slaves!

  Texas

  3:07 PM

  Anonymous said...

  Carlos, no, that’s stupid. We need science. Science isn’t bad by itself. It’s just bad when bad people use it to do bad things. We can do good things with science. Like feed the world. I don’t want to make all grown-ups slaves. My parents are grown-ups, but they’re all right.

  Concerned Future Scientist

  Louisiana

  4:21 PM

  Adide said...

  I am afraid the grown-ups are going to destroy our planet. I want them to stop. I wish they would use science to make better crops and make more rain. Instead of bombs, they should make more schoolbooks for children.

  Uganda

  4:26 PM

  cobra said...

  Fang, i think i saw u guyz flyin u wuz over my uncles deli in Lincoln Park.

  Chicago

  5:27 PM

  Dita said...

  I can’t believe you and Max split up! You guys should stick together! Now I’m even more worried about all of you! Be extra careful!

  Mumbai

  6:08 PM

  Sean said...

  Fang, I want to be a bird kid. I don’t care what it takes. I would go through anything to be able to fly and be with the flock. Tell me where to meet you. I want to join you today.

  Manchester, England

  6:35 PM

  Sue P said...

  I want to join too! I would love to have wings but think it’s too late for me. It would hurt. But I will fight for you on the ground! Just tell me where and when!

  Palm Beach

  6:38 PM

  Fang turned off the computer after wading through thousands of messages like these. Max didn’t think the blog could help, but he was sure it could. He bet he could raise an army of a hundred thousand...ordinary kids, who might be brave and committed, but who would have zero fighting skills and would quickly be slaughtered.

  He sighed and lay back, resting his head on one arm. This leader stuff sucked.

  68

  My miniflock was doing all right, thanks to Angel. For future reference, here are some things you can do if you’re a six-year-old genetic anomaly with the ability to control other people’s minds:

  1) Get business-class tickets for yourself and three other genetic anomalies, plus a dog, on British Airways.

  2) Convince airport security that your talking Scottie is a service dog and therefore allowed everywhere, including the ladies’ room, which frankly I was not thrilled about.

  3) Make people not really notice the hulking, butt-ugly, damaged Eraser loping at your side.

  4) Once on board, help people think it’s normal for a dog to get his own seat and meals.

  5) Arrange for us to each have three meals at a time. First-class meals, not that crap they serve to the poor schmucks in Economy.

  “Total!” I whispered. “People have to pass you to get to the bathroom. Quit growling.”

  “Sorry,” he muttered. “They’re getting too close to my steak. Speaking of which, could you cut it into little pieces?”

  I leaned over and quickly cut up the steak on Total’s tray. I saw Angel grinning at me, and I couldn’t help grinning back. Yes, my flock had been split apart: Half of my family was AWOL. We were homeless and on the run, as per usual. We were going to a strange place with no idea of what to do once we got there. And we were trapped in a big sardine can with a bunch of strangers who I was praying weren’t Erasers or whitecoats.

  And yet.

  “Nice chairs,” Ari said, patting the arms with his clawed, oversize paws.

  “This is kind of fun,” said Angel. She gave a little bounce in her seat and started flicking through her movies on demand.

  “Max?” Nudge whispered from across the aisle. “Do you think these people are okay?” She nodded back at the other passengers.

  “I hope so,” I said, keeping my voice down. “But I’m not positive. I wouldn’t put it past them for this all to be a setup, and we’re surrounded by whitecoats who are going to turn on us. But Angel hasn’t picked up anything, like, no evil intent coming from anyone on the plane. So I’m hoping it’s okay.”

  “I’ve never been on a plane,” Nudge said.

  “None of us have. It’s kind of weird, huh?”

  “Yeah. It’s really comfortable. These chairs turn into beds, you know? And the little TV and the magazines and the food and people getting you stuff.”

  I nodded. We were pretty dang pampered. I mean, compared with our usual glamorous life of sleeping in subway tunnels and eating out of trash cans.

  “But it seems weird to be up in the air and not...outside, you know? And I miss—” She stopped, biting her lip.

  “Me too,” I said quietly. “But I’m sure they’re fine. And I’m sure we’ll see them again soon.” Because I was going to track them down like dogs after my mission was over. I was gonna rag on Fang about this for the rest of his life. He couldn’t get rid of me that easily.

  “I hope nothing goes wrong with this plane,” Nudge whispered. “It seems kind of...unnatural for a machine to be, like, up in the air. I don’t get how it’s staying up.”

  “It’s got honking big engines on it,” I said, decisively clarifying the situation for her in my leaderly way. “But I tell you what—if something happens to this plane, the four of us will be the ones who make it.”

  Nudge’s face cleared. “Oh, yeah. I didn’t think of that.”

  “Now, rest up before our British invasion.”

  69

  Cushy seven-hour respite aside, it was time
to get down to business once we landed at London’s Heathrow Airport. We had gone the whole flight without anyone turning into an Eraser and attacking us, and the plane hadn’t dropped out of the sky like a lead weight, so it was an excellent start.

  For a few moments after we got off, I paused, hoping that maybe the Voice would cut me a break and give clear and followable instructions.

  But no. The Voice was MIA, and we were on our own.

  Which was fine. I’d gotten us all this far. The Voice was a recent phenomenon, and as far as I was concerned, it could stay gone.

  “Okay,” I said, clapping my hands. My miniflock gathered around me. “The first thing we should do is find an Internet café, get on the Web, and Google Itex in England. Even if we don’t find them by name, we’ll probably see other links that can help us.”

  “Whoa, whoa, hold the phone,” said Total. “We’re in London. Are you telling me we’re not going to go see the Crown Jewels?”

  “And the Tower of London?” Angel added.

  “Ooh, look—Madame Tussauds!” Nudge said, pointing at a poster on a kiosk. “We’ve got to go there!”

  Once again I was nonplussed by my flock’s ability to completely put aside the fact that we were fighting for our lives. For the lives of the entire world.

  Frowning, I pressed on. “Itex probably has its main offices in the suburbs, not right in the city.”

  “Buckingham Palace,” Ari startled me by saying. “With the guys in the funny fur hats.”

  “Yeah, yeah, Buckingham Palace!” Nudge agreed without looking at him.

  I drew in a breath, ready to start issuing commands.

  You know, when you’re right, that’s all you get to be, said the Voice.

  “What the heck does that mean?” I asked, irritated.

  “Buckingham Palace,” Nudge explained. “Where the queen lives. And Mr. Queen.”

  “No, no, not you,” I muttered. I leaned against a wall and closed my eyes for a second. You wanna explain that? I thought. Or is that one of those kung fu koans I’m supposed to meditate on at the top of a mountain? Ommm.

  “Max?” Angel asked. “Do you have a headache?” She sounded worried.

  “No, I’m okay,” I said. “Gimme a minute. And keep an eye out.”

  My flock waited patiently, unlike me. I was ready to rake my fingernails down the wall.

  Yes, you should pursue your mission, said the Voice, miraculously answering me. But you haven’t learned how to balance your leadership. You have to lead, but you must also listen.

  And just let them do whatever they want? I demanded silently.

  Max, they’re children. They’re just along for the ride. A strong leader can bend sometimes.

  I opened my eyes. “Fine. We’ll take a tour, hit the hot spots. Angel, get us on one of those double-decker bus tour things.”

  “Okay!” she agreed happily, while Nudge punched the air. We headed for the Ground Transportation area.

  “I want to ride on top!” Total said, trotting at Angel’s side. “But in Max’s jacket, ’cause it’s cold.”

  “Oh, yay,” I said so no one could hear me. You’re wrong, Voice, I thought. They’re kids, but they’re not just along for the ride. I need every one of them if I’m going to succeed.

  70

  “Those aren’t the real jewels.” I was certain of it. No way would they just have the real Crown Jewels of England hanging out in a glass case where anyone could knock it over.

  “They’re so beautiful,” Nudge breathed, leaning as close as she could to them. “The Imperial State Crown. Golly. I would love to have a crown like that.”

  And I was so sure she would get her wish, because bizarre science experiments so often become crowned heads of state. Jeez.

  “Get a load of the scepter,” Total whispered. “How do you like that rock?”

  “It says they’re real,” said Angel, pointing to a placard. “That’s the real Cullinan diamond. I like the Orb.”

  “What, and the queen just comes and gets them when she’s going to Parliament?” I scoffed. I turned to Ari. “What does that other sign say? On your side.”

  Ari looked at me, and for just a second he was almost recognizable as the little boy who used to follow me around so long ago. His face flushed, highlighting the scars that had pretty much healed over. “Don’t know,” he said, turning away. “Can’t read.”

  “Let’s go to Madame Tussauds,” said Total. “We must!”

  “I don’t know who any of these ‘famous’ people are,” said Angel, once we were inside Tussauds.

  We were moving around a room full of wax celebrities, and frankly, the only way I would have been more uncomfortable was if I had rocks in my shoes. For those of us who grew up being subjected to evil scientists’ tests, walking around lifelike figurines who could leap out at us at any second was totally unnerving.

  I was watching the figures like a hawk (get it? li’l’ flock humor for ya there), waiting for someone’s eyes to move, someone’s chest to rise and fall with breathing. So far, none of them had budged. Which didn’t mean none of them would.

  “Me neither,” said Nudge, sounding disappointed.

  “Me neither,” said Ari. Next to all of these smooth wax figures, his rough features and voice stood out like a brick in a jewelry case.

  “Um, I think this one is Brad Pitt,” I said, pointing. “Who knew he was this tall?”

  “Who’s Brad Pitt?” Angel asked.

  Total tsked and scratched behind one ear with a hind leg. “Only a world-famous movie star,” he said. “Read a paper sometimes, will you?”

  I let out a breath. “I’m sorry, guys. I’m trying to get on board with the whole sightseeing thing, but this place gives me the willies.”

  “Is that the technical term?” asked Total. “The willies?”

  “Yes,” I said. “Anyway, one of these suckers is going to move, and then I’m going to take the whole room out. I have to get out of here.”

  “Oh, thank God,” said Nudge. “I hate this place.”

  “Me too,” said Angel.

  Total shook his head, looking disgusted. “You people. This is modern culture.”

  71

  Next up, the Itex Corporation. The major industrial giant that seemed to be behind all the recombinant-DNA experiments; as well as the Re-Evolution Plan, also known as the By-Half Plan; and who knew how many other lunatic plans of mass destruction and mayhem.

  Basically, the last place any of us would ever, ever want to go voluntarily.

  The place we had to go.

  Their office was in...

  “Threadgill-on-Thames?” Nudge read carefully.

  “It sounds like a tweed theme park,” said Angel.

  “It’s pronounced ‘Tems,’” Total said, licking one paw. “Can I have another potato chip?”

  I passed him a newspaper cone full of hot fried fish and french fries. Those wacky Brits called fries “chips.” And potato chips were “crisps.” And cookies were “biscuits.” I had no idea what real biscuits were called. Wangdoodles?

  “And the vinegar?” Total asked.

  I sprinkled vinegar on it for him, then looked at the map again. The Internet cafés we’d found were for people with their own computers. Since Fang had taken our computer, we’d had to go to a library.

  Of course, we’d found that Itex was everywhere, with branches in fourteen cities throughout the United Kingdom. But the main office seemed to be about a thirty-minute flight from London, west-southwest.

  “I like fish and chips,” Ari said. “They’re yummy.”

  “Uh-huh,” I said distractedly, tracing a line on the map.

  I still couldn’t believe I had to go kill the dragon without Fang by my side. He had abandoned me, Nudge, and Angel. Was he so pissed about Ari that he didn’t care if we lived or died? Did he think his blog was really going to solve everything? It’s not like a bunch of angry kids with pitchforks and torches was going to end Itex’s reign of terro
r.

  The word terror suddenly made me think about when Gazzy had told those FBI guys his name was Captain Teror. My eyes were hot and itchy in a flash, and I had trouble swallowing. Gazzy. Iggy. I missed them so much. I’d had dreams about them all night and woke up convinced something bad would happen to them and I wouldn’t be able to help.

  I was going to kill Fang. That was totally on my list, right after “save the world.”

  Jerk. Cretin. Oh, God. He was part of me; he was in my blood. My blood was in him, literally. How could he have done this?

  I glanced over at where Ari was drawing the last of his french fries through a mound of ketchup, his too-large hand making it look like a toothpick. I’d been watching him carefully, and so far he seemed loyal, sincere, not acting suspiciously. But what if I really had made my worst mistake?

  I know what you’re thinking: Of course you didn’t, Max! It was Fang! He made the mistake!

  And yes, we all know that my making a mistake is very, very rare. Exceedingly rare.

  Still.

  I was going to keep an eye on Ari.

  “Max?” Nudge was looking at me. “Earth to Max.”

  “Huh? What?”

  “We’re going to fly there, right?” Nudge asked, pointing to Threadgill-on-Thames on the map. “Like, fly fly, not plane fly, right?”

  “Right.” I glanced out the window. “We’ll go as soon as the sun sets. In the meantime, anyone want more tea?”

  “Yeah, I’ll have some,” said Total. Of course.

  72

  “Oh, lovely,” I breathed, peering through a tall bank of hedges. “Geez, they’re not even pretending to gussy this place up, are they?”

  “It looks so depressing,” said Nudge softly. “I would hate to work there.”

  “You think?” I said. “I would hate to undergo cruel and unusual scientific experimentation there. It looks like the kind of forbidding, twisted place where evil scientists would do totally unthinkable, gruesome experiments. Like graft other species’ DNA into innocent infants.”