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“You’re right,” he said, standing. “He’s dead. What’d you do to him?”
“Nothing. I was whaling on him, but it didn’t do squat. Then he went down like a ton of bricks.”
The crowd thickened and moved a bit closer as the rest of the flock raced up. Angel leaped into my arms and burst into tears. I held her tight and shushed her, telling her it was all right, I was safe.
Fang flipped the Eraser’s collar back, just for a second. We both saw the tattoo on the back of his neck: 11-00-07.
Just then, a cop car pulled up, lights flashing, siren wailing.
We started to fade into the background, edging away through the crowd.
“Crazy drug addict!” Fang said loudly.
Then we strode quickly, turning the first corner we came to. I put Angel down and she trotted next to me, keeping up, sniffling. I held her hand tight and gave her a reassuring smile, but actually I was shaking inside. That had been so freaking close.
We had to find the Institute and get the heck out of here-back to the desert. Somewhere they couldn’t ever find us. It was late, though. We were almost to the park, where we pla
“So he was five years old,” Fang said quietly.
I nodded. “Made in November, year 2000, number seven of a batch. They’re not lasting too long, are they?” How much longer would we last? All of us? Any of us?
I took a deep breath and looked around. My eye was caught by a taxi with one of those flashing-red-dot signs on top that advertise Joe’s Famous Pizza, or a cleaning service, or a restaurant. This one had the words racing across its face: “Every journey begins with one step.”
It was like a taxi-fortune cookie. Every journey, one step. One step. I blinked.
I stopped where I was and looked down, where my feet were taking one step at a time on this long, bizarre journey.
Then I noticed a stunted, depressed tree set into a hole in the sidewalk. A metal grate protected its roots from being trampled. Barely visible between the bars of the grate was a plastic card. I picked it up, hoping I wouldn’t see a burning fuse attached to it.
It was a bank card, the kind you can use at an ATM. It had my name on it: Maximum Ride. I tugged on Fang’s sleeve, wordlessly showed him the card. His eyes widened a tiny bit, so I knew he was astonished.
And voila, my ol‘ pal the Voice popped up just then: You can use it if you can figure out the password.
I looked up, but the mystic taxi was long gone.
“I can use it if I can figure out the password,” I told Fang.
He nodded. “Okay.”
Swallowing, I tucked the card into my pocket.
“Let’s just get into the park,” I said. “Nice, safe Central Park.”
95
“How can the Voice know where I am and what I can see?” I whispered to Fang. All six of us had settled onto the wide, welcoming branches of an enormous oak tree in Central Park. Almost forty feet in the air, we could talk softly with no one hearing us.
Unless the tree was wired.
Believe me, I had lost my ability to be surprised by stuff like that.
“It’s inside you,” Fang answered, settling back against the tree’s trunk. “It’s wherever you are. If it’s tapped into any of your senses, it knows where you are and what you’re doing.”
Oh, no, I thought, my spirits sinking. I hadn’t considered that. Did that mean nothing I did was ever private anymore?
“Even in the bathroom?” The Gasman’s eyes widened with surprise and amusement. Nudge suppressed a grin as I gave Gazzy a narrow-eyed glare. Angel was smoothing Celeste’s gown and neatening the bear’s fur.
I took out the bank card and examined it. I still had the one we’d stolen from the jerk in California, and I compared them. The new one seemed just as legit as the old one. I stuck the old one into a deep fissure in the tree’s bark-couldn’t use it again anyway.
“So we need to figure out the password,” I muttered, turning the new card over and over in my hands. Great. That should only take about a thousand years or so.
I was beyond tired. I also had an impressive knot on my head from whacking the sidewalk. Because, you know, I didn’t have enough head problems lately.
Wordlessly, I held out my left fist. Fang put his on top, then Iggy, then Nudge. Gazzy leaned way over from his branch and managed to barely touch us. Angel leaned down and put her fist on Gazzy’s, and then Celeste’s paw on top of her fist. I heard Gazzy sigh. Or something. We all tapped hands, then got comfy on the wide branches. Angel was directly above me, her small foot hanging down to touch my knee. I saw her tuck Celeste firmly against the tree. Kinda sweet.
The evening air washed over me. My last thought was that I was thankful we were together and safe for at least one more night.
96
“It is unlawful to climb trees in Central Park,” boomed a ti
My eyes popped open and instantly met Fang’s dark ones. We looked down.
A black-and-white was parked below, its lights flashing. Like in New York they didn’t have any more important crimes to work on than a bunch of kids sleeping in a tree.
“How did they even know we were up here?” the Gasman muttered. “Who looks up into a tree?”
A uniformed cop was talking to us through a PA system. “It is unlawful to climb trees in Central Park,” she repeated. “Please come down at once.”
I groaned. Now we had to shimmy clumsily down instead of just jumping and landing like the amazing super-duper mutants we were.
“Okay, guys,” I said. “Get down; try to look normal. When we’re on the ground, we’ll make a run for it. If we get separated, co
They nodded. Fang went down first, and Iggy followed him, carefully feeling his way. Man, for big adolescent kids, they were some awesome, squirrelly climbers.
Angel went next, then Nudge, then Gazzy, and I went last.
“There are signs posted everywhere clearly stating that climbing trees is forbidden,” one cop began pompously. We started to back away slowly, trying to look as if we weren’t really moving.
“Are you runaways?” asked the female cop. “We’ll take you somewhere. You can make phone calls, call your folks.”
Uh, officer, there’s a little problem with that…
Another cruiser pulled up, and two more police people got out. Then a walkie-talkie buzzed, and the first cop pulled it out to answer it.
“Now!” I whispered, and the six of us scattered, tearing away from them as fast as we could.
“Celeste!” I heard Angel cry, and I whirled to see her turning back to pick up her little bear. Two cops were racing toward it.
“No!” I yelled, grabbing her hand and pulling her with me. She almost fought me, planting her feet and trying to unbend my fingers from around her wrist. I swung her up into my arms and took off, tossing her to Fang when I reached him.
With a fast glance back, I saw that the female cop had picked up the bear and was staring after us. Behind her, the others were jumping into their cruisers. Just as I sped around a corner, I saw a tall cop sliding into his car. I blinked hard, twice, and my heart seemed to freeze. It was Jeb. Or was it? I shook my head and ran on, catching up to the others.
“Celeste!” Angel cried, reaching back over Fang’s shoulder. “Celeste!” She sounded heartbroken, and it killed me to make her leave her toy behind. But if I had to choose between Angel and Celeste, it was going to be Angel every time. Even if she hated me for it.
“I’ll get you another one!” I promised rashly, my legs pumping as I kept up with Fang.