I AM A BONA FIDE, kick-butt warrior, so it was pretty humiliating to be shoved out of a fast-moving car about half a mile from the safe house. I landed on my hurt wing, of course, and winced as I rolled to a crumpled stop.

My hands were bound behind my back. I got to my knees as soon as I could, then to my feet, feeling shaky and ill. My wing was streaked with clotted blood. I was light-headed and starving. My face hurt, and my cheek was swollen and warm.

The flock and I all have an acute, innate sense of direction, so after a minute I turned and started trotting east. Once I reached the safe house, I headed for the back door, which was locked, of course, because I had gone out through a second-story window hours before. My plan to be all sneaky so that no one would notice I was missing had been blown to heck. Sighing, I turned around and headed for the front door.

This whole sucky episode ended with my having to actually ring the doorbell at the front of the house with my shoulder. Total even barked like a real dog. A curtain twitched, and then my mom opened the door, her brown eyes wide.

My mom is a veterinarian, an animal doctor, so let’s all put our hands together for the irony there. She patched my wing while she and Jeb tried unsuccessfully to find out what had happened. I wanted to mull things over for a while, maybe do some research on the Chu-ster, so I just mumbled something about getting hit by a stray bullet in a freak accident.

“You shouldn’t fly for at least a week,” my mom said firmly.

I instantly interpreted that to mean three days.

“And I really mean a week,” she went on, looking stern. “Not three days.”

She was getting to know me.

Later that day, the CSM moved us to another house, this time in the Yucatan, which is a jungley part of Mexico. There weren’t as many people there, and the air was much more breathable, with less texture.

But what did the air quality matter, anyway? I couldn’t fly.

Me being unable to fly is not only my worst nightmare, but everyone else’s too, because I turn into such a cranky witch. By the afternoon of the first day, the flock was staying out of my way. They went out and did flocklike things. Total was practicing his takeoffs and landings, both of which he still sucked at.

I warned them to be careful, to be on guard, not to stay out too long. They were fine. Had no problems. Did not get shot at. Did not get kidnapped and taken to see a short, angry Asian man.

I stayed home and was forced to heal.