I know you have to hide out sometimes. I’m a guide in the Colorado mountains around Boulder, and I could help you find some good hiding places.

Thanks, MelysaB. We love the Colorado mountains. And we’re never gonna take you up on your offer. If you’re one of Them, then this is a trap. If you’re not one of Them, then doing anything for us puts you in danger. But thanks anyway.

— Fang

Okay, gotta go. Peace out.

— Fang

Chapter 7

7

IT HAD BEEN only a few days since I’d seen Dr. Martinez — aka Mom — but it was great seeing her again.

Ella, my half sister, was back home in Arizona, but Mom had come to DC to be with us at our big meeting. We hugged for a long time, then she hugged the rest of the flock, who ate it up. Total coughed meaningfully at her feet, and she leaned down and hugged him too.

Mom and Jeb took us to a safe house where we could rest up before the meeting. To us, the words safe house have about as much meaning as jumbo shrimp. No house would ever feel safe enough. Maybe if it were on Mars, and we could see rockets coming from thousands of miles away . . .

After a fabulous hot shower, I got into clean clothes and untangled my hair. It was getting longer, after being cut pretty short in New York, months ago. I looked at myself in the mirror and, bonus, didn’t see an Eraser looking out at me with my eyes. This had happened to me a couple times in the past, completely freaking me out.

I didn’t look like a little kid anymore. I looked older, like a teenager.

“What are you doing in there, waxing your mustache?” Iggy yelled, pounding on the bathroom door.

I yanked the door open and pushed him backward hard, making him stagger. “I don’t have a mustache, you idiot!” Iggy giggled and put his arms up to protect himself in case I punched him. “And you know what?” I added. “You don’t have one either. Well, maybe in a couple years. You can always hope.”

I left him in the hallway, anxiously fingering his upper lip.

In the living room, the rest of the flock sat around looking uncomfortable and unnaturally clean. As soon as I appeared, Total trotted over to me, his fur glossy.

“I got bathed!” he grumbled.

“You look lovely,” I said with a straight face. I patted his back. “You’re all fluffy and soft.” I left him while he was deciding whether to be appalled or flattered.

Fang was standing by a front window, gazing out from behind a privacy curtain.

“Anything going on out there?” I asked.

He flicked a glance at me, shook his head, then took a longer look. “What happened to your tan?”

“It was dirt.”