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47
Nudge still couldn’t accept that Max and the others were dead. It was impossible-she couldn’t deal with it-so she forced herself to think other thoughts.
Nudge guessed it was kind of sad that, right now, this scraped-out shallow ledge in the middle of a desert cliff actually felt cozy and comfortable to her. She lay on her back, feet up against the wall, bruised legs out straight, examining the strata of colors-cream, tan, pink, peach-in the solid rock overhead. The sun out there was hot, but it was cool in here, and breezy.
It just goes to show you, she thought. You think you need all your stuff, your favorite cup, your best blanket, soap, your parents-and then you realize that all you really need is to be where the Erasers can’t get you.
She couldn’t get over Ari. He’d been a little kid the last time she’d seen him. She remembered how he’d seemed to get on Max’s nerves, always following her around. Now he was a full-grown Eraser, the worst of them all. How could that have happened in only four years?
Half an hour ago, she and Fang had heard the very distant chop-chop of a helicopter. They’d pulled as far back into the cave as they could, flattening themselves against the cool back wall. After twenty minutes of silence, Fang had decided it was safe and gone to look for food. She hoped he came back soon.
Their house was burned to cinders. Every one of her friends except Fang was dead. She and Fang were really on their own-maybe forever.
Fang flapped up the side of the cliff, landing almost silently on their ledge. Nudge felt a warm flow of relief.
“Can I interest you in a bit of raw desert rat?” he asked, patting his windbreaker pocket.
“Oh, no!” Nudge said, horrified.
He shrugged off his windbreaker and brushed some dust off his black T-shirt. Popping something in his mouth, he chewed and swallowed loudly. “Can’t get fresher,” he said cajolingly.
“Ugh!” Nudge shuddered and turned away from him. Rat! Flying like the hawks was one thing; eating like them was not going to happen.
“Okay, then,” said Fang. “How about some kabobs? You get the vegetables.”
Whirling, Nudge saw Fang unfolding a foil packet. Instantly, the smoky, meaty smell of cooked beef and vegetables filled her nose.
“Kabobs!” she said, hurrying to sit by Fang. “Where did you get them? You didn’t have time to go all the way to town. Oh, my gosh, they’re still hot.”
“Let’s just say some campers are going to be a little surprised,” Fang said drily, pushing the meat off into one pile, the onions and peppers into another.
Nudge took a bite of grilled pepper. It was warm, smoky, tender-utter heaven.
“Now, this is food,” she said, closing her eyes.
“So I guess we have to decide whether to keep looking for Max or go try to save Angel,” said Fang, eating the chunks of beef.
“But the Erasers said everyone else was dead. Doesn’t that mean Angel and Max too?” Nudge asked, feeling a sad weight settle on her again.
“No way to tell,” Fang said. “The thing is, if Max isn’t here, is it because she’s dead? How would they have found her? Angel…” He paused. “Well, we knew they had Angel. That’s probably all over by now.”
Nudge held her head in her hands. “I can’t think about it.”
“I know. But what are your-” He stopped, squinting, looking off into the distance.
Shading her eyes, Nudge looked out too. Way far off, she could barely make out two dark splotches. Well, so what? Just more hawks.
She sat back and slowly ate her last chunk of onion, then licked the foil they’d been wrapped in. Fang had to come up with a plan-that was all there was to it.
But Fang kept looking out at the sky.
Nudge frowned. The two dark splotches were bigger now, closer. They must be mighty big hawks. Maybe they were eagles!
Suddenly, Fang stood and fished in his pocket for his small metal mirror. Holding out his hand, he caught the last bits of sunset in the mirror, flashing their reflection outward.
He flashed it, then stopped, flashed, then stopped.
The hawks became larger, closer. Now they were definitely spiraling downward in their direction.
Please don’t let them be flying Erasers, Nudge thought in sudden panic. She’d realized they were too big, too awkward to be real raptors.
Then her mouth dropped open. Half a minute later, Iggy and the Gasman landed clumsily on the ledge, knocking rocks and dust everywhere. Nudge just stared at them, so happy she could hardly believe it.
“You aren’t dead,” she said.
“No. You aren’t dead either,” said Iggy irritably. “How about just ‘hello’?”
“Hi, guys,” said the Gasman, brushing dust out of his hair. “We couldn’t stay home-there’s Erasers all over the mountain. So we decided to come here. Anybody have a problem with that?”
48
The next morning I pulled on my new sweatshirt. I’d tried out my wing. It worked, though it was incredibly stiff and sore.
I was relieved to go, to get back in the air. I knew Fang and Nudge were going to kill me. I knew I had let Angel down. But there was no way I could have not done what I did. I wouldn’t be Max.
To tell you the truth, not being Max sometimes had its appeal.
Dr. Martinez pushed a small backpack at me. “It’s an old one-I don’t use it,” she said quickly, knowing I wanted to refuse any more help. “Please take it.”
“Well, since you said ‘please,’” I muttered, and she laughed.
Ella was watching the ground, her shoulders hunched. I tried not to look at her either.
“If you ever need anything, anything at all, please call us,” said Ella’s mom. “I put my phone numbers inside the pack.”
I nodded, even though I knew I would never use the numbers. I had no idea what to say. But I had to try.
“You guys helped me,” I said stiffly, “and you didn’t even know me. It would have been bad if you hadn’t.” How’s that for eloquent, eh? I sounded like freaking Tarzxm.
“You helped me,” Ella pointed out. “And you didn’t even know me. You got hurt because of me.”
I shrugged in that endearing way I have. “Anyway- thanks. Thanks for everything. I really appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome,” said Ella’s mom, smiling kindly. “We were glad to do it. And good luck-with whatever happens.”
I nodded, and then-get this-they both hugged me at once, like a Max sandwich. Once again, I felt the horror of tears starting in my eyes, and I blinked them back quickly. But I let them hug me, and sort of patted Ella’s elbow, which was all I could reach. I won’t lie to you-it felt really good. And really awful at the same time. Because what’s worse than knowing you want something, besides knowing you can never have it?
I disengaged myself gently and opened the door. Outside, it was su
Would they think I looked goofy? What did we-the flock-look like to outsiders? I had no idea, and I didn’t have time to start caring. I adjusted my sweatshirt and the backpack. I turned. Ella and her mom were watching me with wide, curious eyes.
I ran a few steps and leaped upward, unfurling my wings, feeling them fill with air, wincing slightly as my damaged muscles pulled and strained. Fully extended, my wings were thirteen feet across, speckled brown and splotched with white.
A hard downstroke, ouch, then upward, ouch, then down. The familiar rhythm. Ella’s face was awed and delighted, her hands clasped together. Dr. Martinez was wiping her eyes, her smile wobbly.
A minute later, I was way high, looking down on Ella’s little house, at the two small figures waving hard up at me. I waved back, then banked, feeling the familiar joy of flying, the freedom, the speed. I soared off toward the horizon, heading northwest, on my way to meet Nudge and Fang, who I hoped would miraculously still be where I’d told them to be.