Saving the World and Other Extreme Sports

109

You are reading Fang's Blog. Welcome!

Date: Already Too Late!

You are visitor number: Our stat thing quit working. Got overloaded. But you're way up there, believe me.

Okay, folks, we're on the East Coast somewhere between Miami and Eastport, Maine. Don't want to be more specific than that. We're on our way to rejoin Max. Don't have time to rehash all the details, but let's just say that I've decided a flock ought to stick together while they can.

We've gotten more mail than we can handle, so thanks to everyone who's supporting us. I can only reply to a few people, so I'll do that here, and then we have to split.

To Advon777 in Utah: I don't know where you got a missile launcher, and I don't want to know. But even though it might come in handy, it still seems like a really bad idea for you to be messing with it. Maybe you should just put it back where you got it.

To Felicite StarLight in Milan, Italy: Thanks for the offer, but I really don't have time for a girlfriend right now. I found your ideas...creative, but this is not a good time.

To JamesL in Ontario: Thanks, man. I appreciate your support. We need all the help we can get, but waiting till you get out of second grade is fine.

To PDM1223: Excellent! That's exactly what I'm talking about! Tell people what's going on, spread the message, organize protests and stuff. Picket the gargantuan pharmco companies like Itex. I hacked into their files and found that the companies Stellah Corp, Dywestra, Mofongo Research, DelaneyMinkerPrince, and a bunch of others are all Itex under different names in different countries. Stellah Corp is in England, not far from you. See the whole list under Appendix F, for Fatheads. Everyone, read this guy's mail! He totally has a handle on what I mean, what needs to happen.

To everyone in the Seattle area: There's a protest organized for Saturday. Check the schedule that BigBoyBlue has made (thanks, BBB!), attached as Appendix G, for the time and place. Folks in other cities, check the schedule. There's a tidal wave of stuff going on. Thanks to everyone who's making this happen! We're gonna save the world! We're the last hope!

- Fang

Fang typed the last words, then sat back and rubbed his eyes. It was two in the morning.

He, Iggy, and the Gasman were set up to sneak onto a freight plane at 6:10 a.m. The two other boys were asleep, curled up on sacks of seed corn in the corner of this cavernous hangar. Fang had offered to take the whole watch. He had to get caught up with his blog, and also, they seemed much more wiped than he was. They'd flown across the whole United States, with stops only for quick rests and meals on the run.

He shut down the computer, wanting to save the battery. He felt safer without its soft blue glow, with the middle-of-the-night blackness settling around him.

It was hard to believe what he was reading on the blog, the swelling underground movement that kids were organizing all around the world. Even in places like Kazakhstan and Taiwan, kids were getting mad, getting determined. Fang had heard from kids who seemed willing to die for what they believed in. He hoped that wouldn't be necessary.

He leaned back against a sack of corn, listening to the others' breathing. It was torture to wait until six like this, and then the whole flight across the ocean, and then look for Max somewhere in Germany. He'd give anything to be able to snap his fingers and be there. Unfortunately, that was one skill the mad scientists had forgotten to program in.

In the meantime, he was totally stoked about his blog, the one that Max hadn't taken seriously. He really thought these kids could make a difference. More important, they thought so too.

He put his hands behind his neck and stretched, then permitted himself a small grin. Max had always teased that the flock had voted Fang "Most Likely to Become a Cult Leader."

Well, maybe he had. And maybe that was the only thing that could save everybody.