Beth pointed a clicker at the screen, and a new series of images began. Now the pictures were of slash-and-burn farming, oil slicks, factories belching smoke, cities congested with traffic, nuclear power plants, thousands of chickens pressed together in crowded factory farms.

The audience groaned, upset by what they were seeing, and Fang noticed tears streaming down Kate’s cheeks.

“This is exactly what I’ve been talking about!” Kate whispered to the gang. “That’s where your Cluck-fil-A comes from!”

Still more disturbing images followed, of starving people, abandoned villages, trash-strewn lakes, and factories dumping pollutants into rivers.

With each new picture, the audience got a little bit louder, a little bit angrier.

“Um, I think Kate and Ratchet might be right. This doesn’t seem that far-fetched to me,” Maya said quietly.

“Something’s still off—think of every DG member we’ve seen,” Fang said.

“Who has done this to our Earth Mother?” Beth asked from the stage. “Was it me? No. Was it you?”

“No!” the audience shouted, shaking their heads.

“Is it enough for them to say they’re sorry? That they didn’t mean to do it? That they’ll try not to let it happen again?”

“No!” the audience roared.

“That’s right,” Beth said with a smile. “People who do stuff like this never learn. They need to be prevented from doing it again and again. We need to wipe the slate clean and start over in a brand-new world. We’re here to say, ‘You’ve done enough harm, enough damage!’ ” Beth was pacing around the stage.

The audience repeated, “Enough!”

“We want a clean world, clean air, healthy food, healthy animals!” Beth declared.

“Yeah!” the audience yelled.

“These sick, hateful jerks,” Maya said wryly, giving Fang a look.

“Something’s off,” he insisted.

“And all we need to do,” Beth said with a smile, “is kill all the humans.”

“Bingo,” said Fang.

47

“STOP! STOP!” ELLA sputtered. “You’re killing me! Please! Stop!” tears flowed down her cheeks as she shrieked and thrashed and tried to kick Dylan and Iggy.

I would never get used to this.

We didn’t know whether the cold shower had made Iggy vulnerable during his deprogramming or if Angel had just gotten really good at mind hacking, but in the absence of a glacial stream in the middle of the desert, we figured that dousing Ella in a natural hot spring couldn’t hurt. Dylan and Iggy were struggling to hang on to Ella’s hands, and their faces were flushed and damp from the steam. I’d tested the water first—no reason to scald my half sister or cook her like an egg—and I knew it was pretty dang hot.

“How about now?” Iggy panted. “She’s not made out of cotton balls, you know—my arm’s tired.”

“Hang on a sec,” Angel said, looking worn-out herself. “I’m almost done.”

Ella suddenly slumped into the water, all fight gone.