Angel

28

“WHO MADE YOU this way?” I whispered, horrified. “And why?”

They were just kids. Kids like us who had been cut open and experimented on, kids who had been programmed to kill us, but still.

The ’noid we’d been looking at wriggled onto his side, his slit of eyes racing. He didn’t look older than nine or ten.

“We’ve been created to have an advantage—over the humans who have mucked up the planet, and over you and all earlier generations of improvements. The world is going to end, and when the time comes, we’ll… take over.”

I rolled my eyes. Serious brainwashing here.

“Look, Spider Eyes, we know the world isn’t in good shape. That’s why we’re trying to take steps to fix things. Which would be a whole lot easier if people like you weren’t shooting at us all the freaking time.”

“I don’t think you guys understand what’s been done to you,” Angel cut in. “Max is a really good leader. What she means is that if you come with us, you can help us stop the people who did this, who experiment on kids. We’re going to save the world. Maybe we can work together.”

He cackled, and a shiver went down my spine. Why are evil kids way creepier than anything else?

“You don’t get it, do you? You’re forgetting about natural selection,” he said. “Trust me—you won’t be able to do a thing, when the time comes.”

I bristled. “Listen, kid, we can do plenty. If you don’t want our help, fine. But don’t tell me what I can do.” As much as I’d never wanted the whole save-the-world gig, I was irritated that this kid assumed I was totally powerless.

“You’re so… Gen 54,” he sneered. “You and your birdkid pals and your doctor pals and the Coalition to Stop the Madness are all trying to save the world.” His many little eyes darted back and forth constantly. “But what you don’t get is that maybe the world doesn’t need to be saved. It can’t be.”

“I think one person can make a difference,” I said. But suddenly I didn’t sound so convincing.

“Yeah, and you believe in unicorns and pots of gold at the end of the rainbow,” he said. “I’m just telling you how it really is.”

“And how do you know ‘how it really is’?” Dylan asked, stepping closer to me.

“The apocalypse is coming, and no one will be spared,” the kid said with scary conviction. “The world will be safe without humans, and every last human will die. And so will you.”

I shook with anger and resentment. Everyone—even my mom—had been pushing me to come see these kids, to lead them. Well, clearly, they weren’t looking for my help. I was trying to come up with a withering retort when suddenly we heard a series of pop-pop-pops and one of them yelled, “Now!”

In a flash, the ’noids broke their cord ties, leaped up, and rushed us.

Without hesitation, Dylan, Angel, and I raced to the edge of the roof and threw ourselves off.