James Patterson: The Final Warning

“What makes you think there would be something else?” he asked.

“Um, because I’m not a complete moron?” I offered. “Because no grown-up has ever been completely straight with us? Because I don’t believe for one second that you’re giving us the whole story. I don’t believe for one second that all you want is to study us. You know and I know that you’ve got ulterior motives up that crisply starched sleeve. The only question is, when are yougonna show us what they are?”

The government people all seemed taken aback. It was kind of sad, how universally grown-ups seemed surprised when kids didn’t unquestioningly fall into line. I mean, what kind of kids were they used to dealing with?

I waited a minute while they regrouped. My mom squeezed my hand under the table. One by one I quickly met the flock’s eyes: Fang’s were alert,Iggy’s were leveled directly at me, Nudge’s were wide and trusting. The Gasman’s were full of mischief, and I had a moment’s worry before I realized he probably couldn’t have snuck any explosives into this building. Angel was watching me calmly, and now she gave me a little smile. Total put his paws on the table and drank noisily from a glass of water. People looked at him, horrified, and I almost cracked up.

“Any other questions?” I asked, deciding it was time to wrap up this sideshow.

“Why wouldn’t you want our protection?” a woman asked, seeming truly baffled. I guessed she hadn’t been working there too long.

“Because it comes with a price, with strings,” I explained. “The price is too high, and the strings are too tight.”

“You’re children,” said a middle-aged man in a blue suit. “Don’t you want a home, a family?”

“With, like, vitamin-fortified cereal and educational television?” I asked, my eyes wide. My voice hardened. “You didn’t offer us a home and a family. You offered us a school, where we could be studied. Next question.”

“It would be patriotic of you to help your country,” the blond woman said stiffly.

“And it would be nice if the Easter Bunny were real,” I answered. “But it’s interesting that you’ve gone from wanting to study us to wanting us to help our country. Next question.”

The woman flushed, and I saw several colleagues look at her as if she had messed up.

“Frankly, we consider you a national resource,” said a woman in uniform. “A national treasure, if you will.” She gave an unconvincing smile. “Like the Declaration of Independence.”

I sighed. “Which is kept in a sealed display case under lock and key, with armed guards. No, thanks. Anyone else?”

The cool-eyed general spoke again. “The fact remains that you are minors, and as such must be under adult supervision and guardianship, according to state law. We’re offering you such guardianship with a great many benefits and privileges. There could be many less-attractive options.” He sat back looking satisfied, as if he had just crushed an opponent at Battleship.

I blinked and looked around the room in disbelief. “You’re kidding, ” I said. “We’ve escaped from top-security prisons, lived through mental and physical torture, lived on our own for years, made tons of smarty-pants grown-ups look like fools without even trying, eaten desert rats with no A1 steak sauce, and you’re telling me we’re minors and have to have guardians? ” I shook my head, staring at him. “Listen, pal, I grew up in a freaking dog crate. I’ve seen horrible part-human mutations die gut-wrenching deaths. I’ve had people, mutants, and robots trying to kill me twenty-four/seven for as long as I can remember, and you think I’mgonna cave to state law? Are you bonkers? ”

My voice had risen steadily and it filled the room. Everyone was stock-still, dead quiet.

Finally the man who had first greeted us cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Well, perhaps we should take a break and meet again tomorrow.” It was like someone looking at a horrible battlefield wound and saying, “Let’s put a Band-Aid on this thing, patch it right up!”

Once we were back in the limousine, my mom patted my hand and said brightly, “Gosh, that went well!” and I snorted.

Then we were all laughing, and I wished we could stay that way forever: all together and laughing. Of course, we couldn’t.

THAT NIGHT WE DECIDED to order in pizza like normal people.

Mom had a menu from a local place, and each of us kids got to order our own whole, large pizza. I would never get used to having enough to eat for more than a day or two at a time. It wouldn’t last, so I was going to enjoy it while I could.

“So, this whole government-control thing isn’t working for me,” I said while we waited for the delivery guy to show up.

My mom looked at me. “I’d feel better if you were being protected somehow,” she said. See? That’s what kind of mom she is. She doesn’t order me to do stuff, doesn’t try to pin me down. As long as I don’t leave my socks lying around, I’m golden.

“Their protection never lasts, ” saidGazzy. “It turns into something else. Like a trap, or a nightmare, or an experiment. Did I remember to order extra pineapple?”

The rest of the flock nodded.

“I don’t want to go to school,” said Nudge, pulling her attention away from a TV show. “Unless it’s, like, fashion school or music school, like how to be a rock star. But math class every day? And spelling?Bleah.”

“I don’t think those people really know what they want,” said Angel thoughtfully.

“Did we remember to get garlic bread?” Total asked, and we all nodded again.

“But you’re not picking up out-and-out evil?” I asked Angel. Having a six-year-old mind reader does come in handy.

“No,” Angel said, stroking Total’s back. “I can feel secrets, and confusion. But no mad-scientist stuff.”

“Something new and different,” saidIggy.

“Anyone want refills on lemonade?”Jeb asked, holding out the carton.

“I do.”Gazzy handed him a cup, andIggy said, “No, the blue one’s mine.”

Gazzypushed him the blue cup, then looked up as we all realized that no one had mentioned cup colors.Iggy picked up his cup and drank, not seeming to notice anything odd.

“Which blue cup,Ig?” I asked casually. “Light or dark?”

“Light,” he said.

We were all silent, and thenIggy frowned. “Huh. Did you guys tell me what colors the cups were?”

“Nope,” I said quietly.

He stared at the table, then shook his head. “I’m still- I still can’t see squat. No vision. Nothing.” He reached out his hand, moving it slowly until he felt his cup. “But this cup is blue.”

Gazzypushed over another cup. “What’s this one?”

Iggyfelt for it, then closed his hand around it. “Yellow?”

“Yeah,” Fang said. “How about this?” He put the pizza menu intoIggy’s hand. “What color is it?”

“Green?”Iggy asked. “It feels green.”

No one said anything for a while as we digested this new development. I remembered whatJeb had said, about how we might be mutating on our own, without planning. Nudge seemed to be thinking the same thing. She timidly reached out her hand, and when it was a few inches away, her fork flew into her grasp.

“Have you guys been playing in toxic waste again?” Fang asked severely, putting his hands on his hips.

Nudge giggled. “No.”

“Been bitten by a radioactive spider?” Fang went on. “Struck by lightning? Drink a super-soldier serum?”

“No, no, no,” saidIggy. He started reaching for things around the table, and his hand landed on Total. “You’re black.”