1) Get business-class tickets for yourself and three other genetic anomalies, plus a dog, on British Airways.

2) Convince airport security that your talking Scottie is a service dog and therefore allowed everywhere, including the ladies’ room, which frankly I was not thrilled about.

3) Make people not really notice the hulking, butt-ugly, damaged Eraser loping at your side.

4) Once on board, help people think it’s normal for a dog to get his own seat and meals.

5) Arrange for us to each have three meals at a time. First-class meals, not that crap they serve to the poor schmucks in Economy.

“Total!” I whispered. “People have to pass you to get to the bathroom. Quit growling.”

“Sorry,” he muttered. “They’re getting too close to my steak. Speaking of which, could you cut it into little pieces?”

I leaned over and quickly cut up the steak on Total’s tray. I saw Angel grinning at me, and I couldn’t help grinning back. Yes, my flock had been split apart: Half of my family was AWOL. We were homeless and on the run, as per usual. We were going to a strange place with no idea of what to do once we got there. And we were trapped in a big sardine can with a bunch of strangers who I was praying weren’t Erasers or whitecoats.

And yet.

“Nice chairs,” Ari said, patting the arms with his clawed, oversize paws.

“This is kind of fun,” said Angel. She gave a little bounce in her seat and started flicking through her movies on demand.

“Max?” Nudge whispered from across the aisle. “Do you think these people are okay?” She nodded back at the other passengers.

“I hope so,” I said, keeping my voice down. “But I’m not positive. I wouldn’t put it past them for this all to be a setup, and we’re surrounded by whitecoats who are going to turn on us. But Angel hasn’t picked up anything, like, no evil intent coming from anyone on the plane. So I’m hoping it’s okay.”

“I’ve never been on a plane,” Nudge said.

“None of us have. It’s kind of weird, huh?”

“Yeah. It’s really comfortable. These chairs turn into beds, you know? And the little TV and the magazines and the food and people getting you stuff.”

I nodded. We were pretty dang pampered. I mean, compared with our usual glamorous life of sleeping in subway tunnels and eating out of trash cans.

“But it seems weird to be up in the air and not...outside, you know? And I miss—” She stopped, biting her lip.

“Me too,” I said quietly. “But I’m sure they’re fine. And I’m sure we’ll see them again soon.” Because I was going to track them down like dogs after my mission was over. I was gonna rag on Fang about this for the rest of his life. He couldn’t get rid of me that easily.