Saving the World and Other Extreme Sports

110

"Is this a pep rally?" Total asked in a low voice as we slogged our way up countless stone steps. "With cheerleaders? I love cheerleaders."

"I don't think it's a pep rally," I said under my breath. "Somehow I don't think the Mad Whitecoat team is squaring off against the Fightin' Freedom Lovers."

"What kind of final test?" Nudge asked, sounding apprehensive.

I sighed. "Something asinine, probably life threatening, and guaranteed to make me angry every time I remember it for the rest of my life."

Angel looked up at me, worried. "Do you think Fang will get here soon?"

I nodded. "I'm sure he's on his way."

But he probably wouldn't make it in time to spare me this idiocy. Instinctively I began taking deep breaths, super-oxygenating my blood. My knuckles were scarred from the last little skirmish I'd had with the flying can openers, and I cracked them loudly, already bracing myself to feel pain and to ignore it.

The rally was taking place out in the wimpy winter sunlight of the prison yard. The sky and air felt as gray as the lifeless dirt beneath our boots. I thought about Dr. Martinez and how she might actually be my mom. Outside of the flock, she and Ella-Ella was my half sister!-were my favorite people in the world. I wished I could take several hours to just enjoy thinking about it. Now I might die before I ever saw them again.

The remaining ranks of mutants and wannabes were lined up neatly in the yard. There were fewer of them than before, and I remembered what Max II had said about how they disappeared every day.

Was this going to be another fight with Max II? Did they really want me to kill her this time? I prayed no one was sick enough to make me fight Ari again, but I wouldn't put it past them.

"Wait here," commanded a Flyboy in a metallic voice.

Sure, I thought, because telling me what to do always works so well.

Several Flyboys surrounded us, pointing guns. The guns seemed to be welded to their arms, part of them. An improvement over the last ones-now they couldn't drop their weapons or have them taken away. Those guys just kept innovating! That's progress, people!

"Welcome, everyone," said my ex-mom, walking out onto a platform. Her image immediately popped up on half a dozen movie theater-sized screens positioned all around the yard.

She opened her arms in greeting, and then I noticed the viewing stands full of people over to one side. Everything about them said "government wanks," and I figured they were here to be impressed, flattered, and bribed, not necessarily in that order.

"Welcome, honored representatives of..." Then she launched into a geographical who's who of countries all around the world. Pretty much every country I'd heard of, and a bunch I hadn't, seemed to be thinking about jumping on the Insane Apocalypse bandwagon.

"And now, prepare yourselves to view many of our most stunning achievements," said the Director, pressing a button that opened an eight-foot metal-clad door.

Great, I thought. My day's about to get worse.

Which, come to think of it, was the first of their stunning achievements, actually.