Saving the World and Other Extreme Sports

92

The guy looked at Fang. "Maybe. Probably. Guess it depends on the message."

"Would you need to know the message?" Fang asked, seeing a big wrinkle looming. This guy was, after all, pretty much a nutcase. Who knew how he'd react to Fang's message?

The guy thought about it, then said, "Yeah."

"There goes that plan," said Iggy, sucking down the last of his latte.

"Can I have a muffin?" the Gasman put in.

Fang pushed some money across the table. The Gasman took it and headed to the counter, keeping an eye out around him the whole way.

"What's your name?" Fang asked.

There was a long pause while the guy considered.

"Man, this guy's more paranoid than we are," Iggy said. "It's kind of refreshing."

The guy looked at Iggy and seemed to notice for the first time that Iggy was blind. He turned back to Fang. "Mike. What's yours?"

"Fang. He's Iggy. The little one's the Gasman. Don't ask why."

"Sit here long enough and you'll find out," Iggy muttered.

Mike's eyes went wide, and he tensed in his chair. Fang and Iggy tensed too, waiting.

"Is that your blog on the Web?" Mike asked in a whisper.

"Yeah."

The Gasman returned and put a plate of muffins on the table. He immediately picked up on the vibe and stilled, looking quickly from boy to boy. Since no one was pulling out weapons, he sat down and took a muffin, pushing the rest toward the others.

"So you're sayin' you have...like, wings?" Mike kept his voice low.

"Not just like 'em," said Iggy, talking with his mouth full. "We got 'em." He realized Fang hadn't answered the question and turned his head. "Oh. Was that a secret?"

"Not anymore," Fang said dryly.

"You're the bird kids everyone's talkin' about."

Fang shrugged. "Can you help me or not?"

"I'll help you if you're them. Convince me."

"I'll need more room," said Fang, looking around.

Mike took them upstairs, above the coffee shop, where he pulled out a set of keys and unlocked a door. Fang was on hyperalert and wished Angel were there to scan for any threats.

"In here." Mike ushered them into a large room, obviously used for storage. Boxes of various supplies were stacked along one wall, but the middle of the room was empty. "This enough space?"

Fang nodded and shrugged off his jacket. He made note of where the windows were and gauged whether they were single or double paned, in case he had to jump through one any time soon.

Slowly, Fang unfolded his wings, stretching his muscles, enjoying the sensation of extending them after holding them tight against his back for hours. He shook them out, feeling the feathers align. The tips of his wings almost touched the walls on both sides of the room. He wished he could take off right now and fly for hours, wheeling through the open sky.

Mike's mouth was slightly open. "Dude. That is so awesome." He looked at Iggy and the Gasman. "You guys got 'em too? What about those chicks that were with you?"

"We all have them," said Fang. "Now, howsabout sending that message?"