“Yeah, yeah. Everything’s going to be beautiful. We get it. They’re not coming.” I turned to Nudge, lowering my voice. “Look, they got to Ella and Iggy. They could get to you too. It’s too risky if we all go.”

“But you already left us once,” Nudge whined. “Gazzy’s staring into space, all traumatized from almost letting Jeb die, and I don’t want to stay here alone. Please. I need you, Max.”

She sure knew how to rip my heart out and stomp all over it.

“I’m really sorry, kiddo,” I said, my voice softening. “I know you guys have had a rough couple of days. But you won’t be alone. My mom’s here. Jeb’s here. Gazzy’s here.”

“I’m here. What, don’t I count?” Total said, sulking.

“See, you’ve got Total too. We’ll be back soon,” I told Nudge. “Let’s jet, kids.”

Ella attended a local public school. The campus consisted of a bunch of one-story buildings painted white that were clustered around a big courtyard, with footpaths leading from one building to the next. As schools go, it wasn’t awful. I didn’t know what I expected to find, San Quentin? Considering our history with schools, that wasn’t much of a stretch for me.

For a few moments we stood in front of the school, mapping the layout in our minds. Ella and Iggy were holding hands, which would have been kind of adorable if they weren’t all dead-eyed and brainsucked. Then the front door of one of the buildings opened, and we braced ourselves.

I looked at Dylan. “I’ve got your back,” we both said together. He laughed, and I rolled my eyes. Partly at him and partly at myself for feeling all fluttery again.

Students and the occasional teacher began to stream out through the door, moving quietly into the courtyard. Every one of them was smiling and content-looking, if not grinning like a hyena. These were mainly teenagers, people. It was gross.

“Okay,” I whispered to Dylan and Angel. “Let’s spread out. Keep your wits about you, and avoid becoming zombified or whatever. Let’s do this.”

The kids gathered in groups or in pairs. I heard a lot of talk about caring for the planet and saving the world, but, come on, there had to be more to it than that.

“Hello,” one girl said to me brightly, grabbing both of my hands. These people did not grasp the concept of personal space.

“Hello,” I said, mimicking her cheery tone, which, I bet you’ve already guessed, was not superconvincing.

“I’m so glad you came to orientation!” She beamed at me.

“Uh, yeah,” I said. “No prob. Doomsday’s been my specialty for, like, ever.”