Angel

38

IGGY HUNG LIMPLY between Dylan and me, like he’d forgotten he could fly too. At last, my mom’s house came into view, and we began our descent. When I saw Total out front waiting for us, my stomach knotted up.

“Where’s Ella?” he asked right away.

“We lost her in the mob of zombies at the school,” I reported. “My mom and Jeb need to go back and get her while we deprogram Iggy.”

Total shook his shaggy black head. “Not long after you left, your mom and Jeb disappeared. Nudge and Gazzy didn’t even seem to notice they left—both of them are still here.”

“They left? Where did they go?” I asked. “Did they take the car?”

“That’s the weird thing,” said Total. “They walked out. After a couple minutes, I thought, ‘Hey, maybe I should check on ’em,’ you know? So I went out. The car’s still here, but I couldn’t find them anywhere. I even flew around and searched the whole area. It’s like a spaceship picked them up or something.”

I looked into his bright black eyes and saw worry there.

“Crap,” I said and went inside. In the living room, Nudge and Gazzy were sitting on the couch watching news stories that featured—you guessed it—the Doomsday Group. After one brief mention yesterday, the Doomsday Group now dominated the coverage on every news channel.

“One Light,” Iggy said serenely, reaching toward the TV.

“Okay, we’ve got to get him back from never-never land,” I said. “Angel, can you get in his head, sort of do a reset?”

Angel sighed. “I told you. I’ve been in his head. It’s jumbled up, just like the minds of the rest of those kids at the rally. Everything’s a mishmash. I don’t even know how to untangle all the weird thoughts.”

“What kind of weird thoughts?” Dylan asked.

“It’s more like pictures, like dreams, sort of,” Angel tried to explain. “But as soon as I try to follow one thing, it slips away.”

“Kill the humans!” Iggy yelled.

“Those kind of weird thoughts, apparently,” I said. “He’s just too way out right now. In the movies, they always throw people in cold showers to make them calm down. Think that’d work?”

Angel gave me a look. “Max, when has Iggy ever been docile about taking a shower?” She had a point, but it was worth a shot anyway. We didn’t exactly have a backup plan.

It wasn’t pretty. It took all three of us to get Iggy into the tub and turn on the cold water. Then Iggy went haywire. He bolted like a wild horse and tried to leap out. Dylan and I grabbed him, using all our strength to wrestle him back under the shower.

“What are you doing?” Iggy wailed in a voice I’d never heard before, as if the water were acid. “What are you doing?”

He seemed terrified, but the three of us fought to hold him under the shower while he thrashed around.

“Stop! Stop!” Iggy yelled, tears running down his cheeks. He was drenched, like the rest of us, his reddish-blond hair flopping to one side. Tiny water droplets clung to his eyelashes, and his cheeks were flushed. “What’s happening?!”

“I don’t know!” I shouted.

“You’re killing me!” Iggy shrieked, hardly sounding human. He writhed and moaned, wrenching his body back and forth.

“I’m dying!” Iggy wailed, his hands clawing at the side of the tub. “I’m dying!!”

I was seriously freaked. I mean, all the kids hated taking showers, but I’d never seen anything like this.

Then Iggy suddenly slumped down in the tub, his eyes closed.

“Oh, my God!” I panicked. “Turn it to warm water, Dylan—now!”

“I’m getting in,” Angel whispered as the water temperature rose. “Lines of communication are opening up, and if I work at these crazy knots of death thoughts, I can break through to him. He’s still freaking out, but there doesn’t seem to be the same level of resistance.”

Then he twitched.

“Iggy…” I held my breath.

He blinked slowly and shook the water out of his eyes.

“What… what are you doing?” he asked, sounding kind of groggy. Groggy… a lot like the old Iggy.

My eyes brightened, and Dylan and Angel and I all exchanged hopeful glances.

“Iggy?” I asked again.

“Yeah?” He blinked, wiping his face with one hand. “What are you guys doing? If you wanted me to take a shower, all you had to do was pay me ten bucks, like you usually do.” He ran one hand through his hair, making it stand up in wet peaks.

I let out a deep breath and looked at Angel: her face was beaming. She looked at me and nodded—his thoughts were back to normal.

“So what’s going on?” he demanded, sitting up a bit.

“How do you feel?” I asked.

“Like a wet dog,” he answered irritably. “What’s wrong with you guys?”