Angel Read online

  Dylan laughed. “Yeah, like robots, covered with skin and stuff? Science fiction.”

  “You have much to learn, Grasshopper,” I said, then turned to Angel. “What say we fly overhead and lure them out. When you see them, you can try to play puppet master and get them to put down their weapons. Sound good?”

  Angel nodded, stood up, and brushed off her jeans. “Let’s do it.”

  We had to go through the horrible razor wires to get close to the school. It was nerve-racking, and now I was burdened with the image of Nudge and Iggy being all sliced up and stitched back together again. But, pros that we are, we zipped through the obstacle course and emerged over the school. It took a few minutes before the rooftop door opened, and, surprise, three black-hooded guards raced out, weapons raised.

  Angel stared at them, willing them to lower their weapons. Once or twice, we saw a couple of them falter and start to lower their rifles, but then it was like an override feature kicked in, and they straightened up and prepared to fire.

  “They’ve been brainwashed,” Angel said slowly. “I can barely get through at all, and then only for a second before their programming takes over.”

  “Are they human?” I asked.

  “Yeah, mostly,” she said. “Combined with something, but I don’t know what. When I got in one’s head for a moment, I saw how it sees. We looked like glowing things in the sky, very bright.”

  “Hence, their uncanny aim,” I said. Then I had a thought. “If we’re glowy things in the sky, what happens if they see a falling star?” And with that, I simply closed my wings and dropped down to the roof, extending my wings at the last second to break my fall. The ninja kids paused, hesitating, then quickly raised their weapons, aiming at me point-blank.

  I held up my hands in the universal “I’m unarmed and if you shoot me you’re a total unfair jerk” gesture, but only heard safeties clicking off in response.

  “Plan B!” I yelled, dropping and rolling to the side. In this case, plan B was “fight like crazed wolverines because plan A went nowhere.” I swung a leg out, fast and hard, and knocked one attacker’s feet right out from under him or her.

  Everything got kind of messy after that.

  27

  ANGEL SHOT UP in the air just as one ninja kid fired at her, but when she landed behind him, the kid’s leg flung out and nailed her in the gut. Coughing, she lunged for the rifle, but again the kid anticipated her position and smashed her knuckles.

  Angel’s pretty quick when she needs to be, but the ninja kid was always one step ahead of her. What was the deal with these creepsters?

  I was scrambling to my feet to help Angel when one kid sprung at me, weirdly fast, in a series of backflips. I swerved sideways at the last second, but, with lightning-fast reflexes, the kid snap kicked me right under the chin. I was shocked. My arms windmilled and I fell backward, off the building.

  Just as my fingers snagged the edge of the roof, I got a glimpse of Dylan’s furious face as he charged the kid who’d kicked me. But I didn’t need Prince Charming. I had already bounced back and flown up on the roof—only to be shot at as soon as I was visible.

  My head was ringing, my teeth had slammed together, and I tasted blood.

  “Okay, enough!” I snapped, really angry now. I still had a roundhouse kick or two in me, and I was ready to start whaling on these bullies. I surged forward while one took aim, but then I spotted Dylan waving his arms at me to stop.

  Which, come on, didn’t Golden Boy here know me at all?

  He was pointing at the sky and mumbling something about how they couldn’t see. I glared at him. Yeah, Dylan, we’ve established that.

  “Over their heads,” he shouted. “I don’t think they can sense anything directly over them!”

  I looked at Angel, who was hovering over a confused-looking ninja kid. He was spinning around but couldn’t seem to get a read on her.

  Oh. Got it!

  Dylan and I joined Angel in zipping from kid to kid, moving as quickly as possible, so that the ones we weren’t directly over couldn’t get a good shot. It wasn’t long before the kids were spinning in place, trying to focus.

  If it hadn’t been so screwed up, and we weren’t actually, you know, dancing over the heads of kids trying to kill us, it might’ve been kind of fun. But somehow I didn’t think that this strategy was going to end our little skirmish.

  Just as I was about to call for a plan C, the ninja kid below me dropped to the ground. And so did the one spinning underneath Dylan. Say wha…? They seemed to be short-circuiting or something. After the third one fell, we snapped cord ties around their wrists.

  When it was over, I sat back, panting, watching the bodies warily to make sure they stayed down as Dylan double-checked that all guns were accounted for.

  Angel leaned over and yanked off one ninja kid’s black hood.

  It was awful.

  He looked just like a regular kid, but he had a small slit above his nose—a slit that ran around the circumference of his head, like a ring. And in that slit, I saw… many eyes. Tiny, dark orbs, angrily zipping back and forth. He wasn’t blind at all. He had 360-degree vision. They were virtually impossible to sneak up on, except from above, apparently.

  “And I thought we were paranoid,” Angel said quietly.

  “Yeah,” I said. “These guys are paranoia incarnate.”

  Dylan was shocked and silent. I’d thought genetic mistakes were the height of horribleness. I hadn’t realized that genetic “successes” like these ’noids might be even worse.

  28

  “WHO MADE YOU this way?” I whispered, horrified. “And why?”

  They were just kids. Kids like us who had been cut open and experimented on, kids who had been programmed to kill us, but still.

  The ’noid we’d been looking at wriggled onto his side, his slit of eyes racing. He didn’t look older than nine or ten.

  “We’ve been created to have an advantage—over the humans who have mucked up the planet, and over you and all earlier generations of improvements. The world is going to end, and when the time comes, we’ll… take over.”

  I rolled my eyes. Serious brainwashing here.

  “Look, Spider Eyes, we know the world isn’t in good shape. That’s why we’re trying to take steps to fix things. Which would be a whole lot easier if people like you weren’t shooting at us all the freaking time.”

  “I don’t think you guys understand what’s been done to you,” Angel cut in. “Max is a really good leader. What she means is that if you come with us, you can help us stop the people who did this, who experiment on kids. We’re going to save the world. Maybe we can work together.”

  He cackled, and a shiver went down my spine. Why are evil kids way creepier than anything else?

  “You don’t get it, do you? You’re forgetting about natural selection,” he said. “Trust me—you won’t be able to do a thing, when the time comes.”

  I bristled. “Listen, kid, we can do plenty. If you don’t want our help, fine. But don’t tell me what I can do.” As much as I’d never wanted the whole save-the-world gig, I was irritated that this kid assumed I was totally powerless.

  “You’re so… Gen 54,” he sneered. “You and your birdkid pals and your doctor pals and the Coalition to Stop the Madness are all trying to save the world.” His many little eyes darted back and forth constantly. “But what you don’t get is that maybe the world doesn’t need to be saved. It can’t be.”

  “I think one person can make a difference,” I said. But suddenly I didn’t sound so convincing.

  “Yeah, and you believe in unicorns and pots of gold at the end of the rainbow,” he said. “I’m just telling you how it really is.”

  “And how do you know ‘how it really is’?” Dylan asked, stepping closer to me.

  “The apocalypse is coming, and no one will be spared,” the kid said with scary conviction. “The world will be safe without humans, and every last human will die. And so will you.”

/>   I shook with anger and resentment. Everyone—even my mom—had been pushing me to come see these kids, to lead them. Well, clearly, they weren’t looking for my help. I was trying to come up with a withering retort when suddenly we heard a series of pop-pop-pops and one of them yelled, “Now!”

  In a flash, the ’noids broke their cord ties, leaped up, and rushed us.

  Without hesitation, Dylan, Angel, and I raced to the edge of the roof and threw ourselves off.

  29

  “I CARE IF you save the world or not, Max,” Dylan said softly as we flew back to my mom’s house. The tip of his wing brushed mine, and I felt a bolt of electricity.

  “Okay, that makes about ten of us,” I said, avoiding his eyes. My gaze fell on a little dot moving erratically far below us. An injured animal?

  “What’s that kid doing down there?” Dylan asked. His exceptional raptor vision was starting to come in pretty handy.

  “Looking for the nearest water park?” I said dryly.

  “No, I don’t think so,” Dylan said. He still had a hard time appreciating my sarcasm. I rolled my eyes at Angel. “He’s sunburned and staggering. Must be lost.”

  I glanced around us. The kid was a good five miles from anything; the chances of his making it to help were pretty slim.

  “We should probably just leave him for dead, seeing as how no one actually wants to be saved around here,” I grumbled. Okay, it had been a rainy parade back at the Deathwire School for Spider-eyed Kids, and I was feeling bitter. But when I looked up, Dylan grinned at me, and before I knew what was happening, I grinned back.

  “Heck, let’s go save ’im, whether he wants it or not,” Dylan said in his best Scooby-Doo voice, and I laughed. Angel glanced at me, her head cocked.

  “What?” I said defensively. “I laugh sometimes.”

  Long story short, we swooped down on the kid.

  Okay, now, if I were staggering and lost in the desert, sunburned and parched and without a hope in the world, and suddenly, three kids with wings fluttered to a graceful landing before me, I’d be pretty sure I was hallucinating or near death or both.

  This kid looked up when we landed, blinked, and said, “You again?”

  My eyes widened as I plucked recognition from the attic of my brain. “You!” I said.

  “You know him?” Dylan asked. “We’re in the middle of a desert!”

  “I recognize him,” I clarified. “We met like forever ago” (six books ago, for those of you in the know) “in the subway tunnels in New York.”

  “Where’s your computer?” I asked. Last time I saw him, he’d accused us of hacking his precious Mac, which he seemed to consider his only friend on earth.

  “I don’t need it anymore,” the kid said, smiling dreamily.

  “Oh yeah?” I said. “Last I knew, you were practically joined at the hip.” I mean, not literally, which, sadly, is all too possible in our world. But this was more of a codependent situation.

  “I’m free now. The end is near, and soon we’ll all be free!” he shouted, raising a fist.

  “Again with the world ending,” I muttered. The kid had always been a bit off, but it seemed like the heat was really getting to him.

  Angel offered him her water bottle, but he shook his head. “Everything’s happening, just like my computer predicted.” His eyes glazed over. “But I don’t need it now. I don’t need anything. It’s all beautiful, man. Everything will be beautiful once we kill all the humans. You’ll see. Can’t you feel it?” He looked at me earnestly.

  Okay, things were getting more than a little crazy town. “Say what, now?”

  “The humans have ruined everything,” he said. “But once they’re all gone, we can start fresh again. We just need to kill the humans.”

  “But… you’re human!” said Angel.

  His eyes wavered, then focused on her. “Nah, not really.”

  “Look, you need to get out of the sun, get some fluids into you,” I said. “Then you’ll quit talking crazy.”

  “No!” He frowned and shook his head. “You don’t understand. You don’t want to understand. I have everything I need! I’m being take care of!” He looked off at nothing in the distance. “Everything’s being taken care of,” he whispered.

  “Please, let us help you,” I pleaded, taking his arm.

  “No!” He pulled away from me and ran off shakily across the hard-packed soil. “I don’t need your help! I’m being taken care of!” he shouted over his shoulder.

  “Okay, I’m starting to get a complex,” I said. “What, I’m not good at saving people anymore?”

  The three of us watched the kid stagger away from us. I seriously felt like crying.

  “Let’s just go home,” I said wearily.

  30

  “AND HOW HAVE you been locating the members of this little ragtag collection of yours?” Maya asked, taking a big swig of Yoo-hoo.

  Great. Not only did “Maya” look exactly like Max and have the same husky voice that practically made Fang’s knees buckle, but she even talked like Max, all bravado and snark.

  “Through my blog,” Fang answered. Across the hotel room, the rest of his little ragtag collection actually seemed to be getting along. The new guy, Holden Squibb, had finally arrived, and Kate was explaining to the pale, scrawny kid how she and Star had been kidnapped by two men in lab coats on some school trip. Fang turned back to Maya.

  “I started getting letters from kids who were—different. They wanted answers. I want answers too. I thought we could find them together.” Maya looked at him when he said “together,” and his heart raced. She stepped closer to him, leaning over his shoulder to look at his computer.

  “And what’ve you found?” she said, now inches from his face. Fang kept his eyes locked straight ahead on the screen. He could practically feel the warmth of her skin.

  He’d been so stupid. But he’d needed another good fighter on his team and hadn’t been sure that the other four would work out. He’d wanted someone… familiar. He’d been a freaking idiot.

  Now he didn’t know what to do.

  “Well, everyone here seems to have been experimented on pretty recently,” he said as evenly as he could. “They didn’t grow up with it, like we did. They were just regular kids,” he said quietly. “And some of them had harsher experiences than others.” Fang looked at Holden and frowned. “Anyway, we think it has something to do with these guys.” He clicked open a new window, and a banner popped up that read, “Save the Planet. Kill the Humans.” Maya gave a low whistle.

  “Sweet. These people seem like real winners.” Now her lips were close to his ear, and Fang forced himself to breathe normally.

  “Yeah, you could say that. They seem to be all for genetically modified kids, though. What they don’t get is that not everyone wants to be ‘improved.’ ” He nodded over at Ratchet, Holden, Kate, and Star. “The gang here joined up because they’ve got a thing or two to tell the people who did this to them.” He squinted at the screen. “If we can just figure out how these Doomsday jerks work…”

  “Hmm,” said Maya. “Well, I know I can fly, and I know you can fly, but what can they do?” She pointed her bottle at the others. They’d just met, but Ratchet already had Holden in a headlock.

  “Ratchet’s got, like, insane senses,” Fang said, and Ratchet nodded to them from across the room. “Holden can heal really fast, and we think he has the ability to regenerate limbs and stuff.”

  “Like a starfish,” said Maya, nodding. “Cool.”

  “Yeah,” said Fang. “But slightly less cool when you think about how many times they cut him open before the potion actually worked.” Fang glanced across the room at Holden’s scarred arms and shuddered.

  “And the girls, Kate and Star, were injected at the same time, but apparently with different stuff. Seems like the whitecoats screwed with their DNA, just like they did with ours. You wouldn’t think it to look at her, but Kate’s, like, wicked strong.”

  He nodded at St
ar, who was pouring a supersize bag of chips down her throat. “We think Star’s part hummingbird or mouse. She can move like lightning, but she burns through about a zillion calories in the process. She must have double the fast-twitch muscle fibers we do since they spliced her genomes.”

  Maya smiled at him. “I love it when you talk all sciencey.”

  Fang almost laughed despite himself. He hated talking to people, but maybe with Maya he could just hang. Maybe she could be like Max for him. Like he and Max used to be. Before things got… complicated.

  It would be just like before.

  31

  “MAX! THE MAXALATOR! Maxime! Maxalicious! Maxster!”

  Total raced toward me as soon as I landed, wagging his tail. (Oh, just a reminder. Yes, we are living in a world where geneticists have messed with dogs too. Total’s the first talking dog I’ve ever met, though—and I hope he’s the last.)

  “Total! Hi! How was your honeymoon?” I was actually glad to see him. Things had been kind of quiet without him. Relatively.

  “I see Mr. Perfect’s still hanging around, eh?” he said, drawing together his pointy black Scottie ears. My face flushed as I took a step away from Dylan.

  “And Angelkins!” Total licked Angel’s face when she squatted down to pet him, bracing his front paws on her lap.

  “Hi, Total,” Angel said. “Whoa! Your wings are looking good!”

  Total extended his wings proudly, fluttering them a little. “They are, indeed, are they not?” he agreed. “The honeymoon was fantabulous.” His eyes got a little misty. “You see before you the happiest of dogs. My Akila and I had a truly magical time. Now she’s off visiting her folks, but I missed you, one and all.” He looked at me and frowned. “And, of course, I got here just in time to see that everything took a turn for the worse when I left. Everyone looks terrible! I’m gone for a week and—”

  “I’m hungry,” I said, heading toward the house. “You have any pictures from your honeymoon?”

  “I have video!” Total said, happily trotting beside me.