“Help him learn,” she said. “He’s brand-new. He doesn’t have anyone else. I don’t think he can learn what he needs to know from Dr. Hans. At least we all have each other.” She smiled up at me somewhat tentatively.

Stopping, I looked into her blue eyes. “Do we, Angel?” I asked softly, as her smile faltered. “Do we all have each other? Have each other’s backs?”

She didn’t say anything, and then we were in sight of our tent. Gazzy called over to us. I strode forward and motioned everyone inside. In the heat of the day, it was stifling, but I would make this fast.

“Okay,” I said. “First, here.” I handed out squashed bacon, muffins, fruit, everything I’d been able to stuff into the cargo pockets of my pants and my jacket. In retrospect, the handful of scrambled eggs had not been a good idea, but still, my poor hungry flock fell on everything like hygiene-challenged hyenas. Gazzy actually moaned as he downed a piece of bacon in two bites.

“Listen up,” I said urgently. “It’s time to round up your gear. I’m gonna check in with Patrick, and then we’re getting the flock out of here.” Ha-ha. “If we head northnortheast, we’ll hit Italy. From Italy to Ireland. Ireland to New York. Sound good?”

They all looked at me.

“I’ll explain on the road, but we have to get out of here, fast.” I even looked over my shoulder, as if Dr. HackerHagen was about to pop through our tent flap.

“Aren’t we supposed to stay and help?” Nudge asked, brushing off crumbs.

“We’ve helped. We’ve posed for pictures,” I said, shoving my stuff into my backpack. “us staying a bit longer won’t do that much more.”

“Are we going on another CSM mission?” Nudge asked.

“Nah. At least not for a while,” I said. “We’re headed someplace new and different —”

Fang looked at me and smiled. It was time to spill our little secret.

“Home.”

PART TWO

PART
TWO

HOME IS WHERE THE HEART BREAKS

Chapter 18

18

LESS THAN A WEEK LATER, Iggy was working his magic in the kitchen, with real groceries that we’d bought from a real grocery store. He came out, a chef’s hat on his head, big oven mitts on his hands. “Come sit down,” he ordered. “Dinner’s ready.”

Gazzy raced to the table. “Lasagna! Excellent!”

I stood at an open window, looking out over the bloodred canyon, turned to flame by a glorious sunset. We were home. Colorado, that is, where we had lived, post–dog-crate but pre-world-saving-mission. We had a new house there, near where we had lived before. The CSM had built it as a big thank-you for our help in Antarctica and Hawaii.