Fang

“Same bat time,” said Gazzy, grabbing the Eraser’s feet.

“Same bat canyon!” Nudge coughed, helping Gazzy heave the struggling half-man out the window.

That shifted the balance. The flock, Akila, Total, and Dylan could now gang up on the remaining Erasers, two or three on one, and over the next few minutes managed to shove, kick, tip, and otherwise eject every single one of them out the canyon-side windows.

Then it was eerily silent, except for a few wheezes and coughs.

Angel jumped off the deck and flew upward, to see if there were other threats.

“Turn on all the fans!” gasped Dylan, then he leaned over and retched. He’d been breathlessly taking out Erasers since the moment they hit the floor.

Angel came back in, rubbing big dark bruises on her upper arms. “I don’t see anything else,” she said. “Everyone report.” She walked around the room, estimating the damage the way she’d seen Max do.

“Um, this place is shot to hell,” said Gazzy.

“Bloody nose,” said Iggy. “With red blood.”

Now that he’d been able to clear his lungs, Dylan was examining big gouges in his arm. “I’ll be okay, pretty much,” he said bravely. “But I’m worried about Nudge.”

She was crouched on the floor, twisting awkwardly to look over her shoulder. “I’m not sure, but one of my wings doesn’t feel right. Can you sprain a wing?”

“I jammed my pinkie finger,” Angel said, frowning. She gritted her teeth, gripped the end of it, and fearlessly yanked it back into alignment.

Akila was panting, and she and Total touched noses. “We’re okay,” said Total. “But I will never get the taste of Eraser out of my mouth.”

Angel held up a hand. “Shh! Incoming!”

Everyone braced as they heard noises outside.

Then Max and Fang landed on the deck, hopping and skipping to avoid all the debris and broken glass. Wideeyed, Max rushed through the shattered sliding door with Fang close behind her.

“Nice of you to join us,” Angel said.

“Gazzy, man, jeezum!” Fang exclaimed. “What the heck have you been eating, for God’s sake?”

“That was a smoke bomb!” Gazzy defended himself. “Not even I could fill this whole flippin’ house!”

44

“WHAT THE HECK HAPPENED?” I asked, taking in Iggy’s bloody nose, Nudge’s pained face.

“Erasers,” said Iggy angrily. “Erasers happened. But enough about us. How was your joyride?”

“I heard the choppers,” I said. “I came back as fast as I could.” I was still trying to process the “Erasers” part.

“Whatever, Max.” Iggy shook his head angrily. “You and Fang were off together – like always. The rest of us could have died here, but as long as you two get your face time, it doesn’t matter!”

“Hey!” came Jeb’s voice from outside. “Put down the ladder!” He was just returning from the dump. In a few moments, he was staring at us all in shock. Then he looked with dismay around the living room, which was now a poster child for the benefits of having home insurance. Which, of course, we didn’t.

“Erasers attacked,” I told him. “Apparently. While I was at the store.”

Jeb frowned. “Are you sure they were actual Erasers? Not robots?”

“These were definitely Erasers,” Gazzy said. “You can still smell them.”

“Look what I found outside.” Jeb held up a black duffel bag. “Maybe this’ll offer some kind of clue.” He opened it, and we all fell silent. Inside were black hoods. Clear vials of liquid. Hypos in cases. There were black plastic body bags.

“Those were for us,” said Gazzy, as we gaped at the bag’s contents. “They must have been trying to knock us out with that nerve gas stuff.”

“Erasers don’t use this kind of equipment. Only brute force,” Jeb remarked. “Someone else must have been out there too.”

“But weren’t all the Erasers wiped out?” I asked Jeb. Of anyone, Jeb would be in the know about the wolf boys.

Jeb nodded slowly. “The entire original production lines, as well as the next four generations, were all… retired,” he said. “But I wonder. After the School closed, the scientists, what was left of them, scattered. It’s possible – even likely – that one or more of them have set up shop somewhere else.”

“Where are the Erasers now? Do you know?” Fang asked the kids.

“Dumped ’em in the canyon,” Angel said, rubbing her hand.

“Good job, guys,” I said. “That was the way to go.” I tried a grin. “But I bet we’ll be smelling them for days, until the vultures finish them off.”

Fang strode back out to the deck, hopped up on the railing, and jumped off to investigate the remains. I saw envy and admiration war on Dylan’s face.

“So, Dylan, your first Eraser fight,” I commented, wondering how he had done.

“He did great,” said Total. “He’s a machine. Dylan’s like the top-of-the-line Cuisinart to Gazzy’s hand mixer.” Total was a bit of a gourmet, and his point was all but lost on me.

Dylan shrugged as if he’d done nothing at all, even though one arm had ugly gashes on it. His long-sleeved plaid shirt was in tatters.

“Um, we should probably be treating those wounds,” I said, sounding a little more concerned than I wanted to. That mother hen thing is a hard habit to break.

“Don’t worry, Max. I’ll be fine,” he said, taking his shirt off so he could check out the damage. I tried to avert my eyes from his muscular torso. But even more distracting was seeing just how shredded his arm really was under that shirt.

“Jeepers!” I couldn’t understand how Dylan could be so unflinching with that kind of damage. “Jeb, make yourself useful for once! You’ve got a medical background, don’t you?”

“I think I can fix it, Max,” Dylan said, as he pulled together ragged bits of skin and held them firmly in place.

The flock heals faster than normal humans, but what Dylan did next I’d never seen another bird kid even attempt: He raised his wounded arm to his mouth and used his own spit to wet the damaged areas. WTH?

“Eew!” Nudge said, and turned away. I, however, was fascinated. And terrified.

“Just a little trick Dr. Gunther-Hagen taught me,” Dylan said, as we watched his skin scab up and heal right before our very eyes.

45

I DIDN’T HAVE TIME to grill Dylan about just how much he’d been subjected to Dr. G.’s experimentation before Fang landed lightly on the deck and came in.

“There’s nothing down there,” he reported.

“What?” Nudge sounded stu

“Some blood. Bits of fur. Iggy’s mixer,” Fang clarified. “No bodies.”

“Whoever sent them picked them up,” Total said. “Like trash.”

“About my mixer,” Iggy began.

“It was all I could find!” Gazzy said. “You mixed someone to death?” I asked.

“I adapted to the circumstances,” Gazzy said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Hmm,” I said, starting to pace. “So – the Erasers are back. And someone came to get them. We didn’t hear or see how they got here. Choppers may or may not be related.” I rubbed my chin as I walked, trying to put this together.

“It’s nice of you to care now,” Iggy said, stopping me in my tracks.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I put my hands on my hips.

“I’ll go ahead and name the elephant in the room,” Iggy went on, glaring over my shoulder. “You and Fang weren’t here when we needed you. You were out there” – he gestured to a wall – “because, let’s face it, you guys care about each other now more than you care about the rest of us.”

“What? That’s crazy! It was just chance. It could have been me and Nudge, or Fang and you. us not being here didn’t make this happen!”

“Unless someone was watching and saw our two best fighters leave,” Angel said.

It was a horrible thought, and it hit me right in the gut. My brain whirred.

“Look, I guess it’s natural,” said Iggy. “You’re teenagers, it’s springtime, everyone’s thoughts are turning to birds and bees and caterpillars and moths…”