Because of my less-than-socially-accepted bizarro childhood at the hands of evil scientists, I have an overwhelming reaction to science lab–type smells, like alcohol, plastic tubing, floor cleaner, etc. When Dr. Martinez put the IV in, I had to grip the sides of the table to keep myself from leaping up and racing out of there, preferably punching a couple people first.

My heart was pounding, my breath coming shallower, and I could feel the white lightning of adrenaline starting to seep into my veins.

You know what? Turns out Valium just shuts that stuff right down!

“This is great,” I said with cheerful grogginess. “I feel so...calm.”

“You’re okay, Max,” said Ella, patting my shoulder.

“You still want to do this?” Fang asked. “Bark once for yes.”

I stuck my tongue out at him. With any luck at all, whatever grotesque thing would probably replace the Erasers wouldn’t be able to track us once the chip was out. And maybe the Voice would be gone forever too. I wasn’t positive the chip was connected to the Voice, but it seemed likely. Even though the Voice had been kind of helpful sometimes, I still wanted everyone out of my head except me.

Which is such a pathetic sentence, one that probably not a lot of people need to say.

Then Dr. Martinez stretched out my chipped arm and fastened it to the table.

30

30

Instinctively I started to panic when Dr. Martinez strapped my arm down, and then the panic just melted away, la la la.

Someone took my other hand. Fang. I felt his calluses, his bones, his strength.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” I slurred, smiling dopily up at him. I took in his startled, worried expression but dismissed it. “I know everything’s fine if you’re here.”

I thought I saw his cheeks flush, but I wasn’t too sure of anything anymore. I felt a couple of needle pricks in my arm, and said mildly, “Hey.”

“That’s just a local anesthetic,” explained Dr. Martinez. “I’ll give it a minute to take effect.”

“Oh, look, the lights are so pretty,” I said dreamily, having just noticed them.

I smiled at the way the lights were dancing overhead, pink and yellow and blue. I felt some pressure on my arm and thought, I should look over and see what’s going on, but then the thought was gone, sliding away like Jell-O off a hot car hood.

“Fang?”

“Yeah. I’m here.”

I struggled to focus on him. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Yeah, I got that.”

“I don’t know what I’d do without you.” I peered up at him, trying to see past the too-bright lights.

“You’d be fine,” he muttered.

“No,” I said, suddenly struck by how unfine I would be. “I would be totally unfine. Totally.” It seemed very urgent that he understand this.