20 – What Next?

In the end we got the chance to bury our dead. Our tools had been inefficient and we had all been half-sick the first week or so, but we managed to get the grave dug and to fit all the bodies inside. Everyone helped with the burial, carrying the sheet-covered corpses outside and lowering them into the ground.

Anna was one of the bodies we were putting to rest; Craig had found her earlier that morning, when he was making a list of all the dead kids' names, and so we both stopped to pay our respects before she was added to the featureless stack of shrouded bodies. She was just one of the many friends I was saying goodbye to that day, since only seven of the twenty girls I'd shared a barrack with were still alive: Cammie, Rachel, and Megan had wings, while Heidi, Kendra, and Cara were still human. Cassandra had some bird genes in her somewhere, but she seemed normal.

We ditched the island a few hours after the burial. Mainland had radioed in the day before, saying that a government representative would be arriving next week on behalf of the Supremacy council to inspect experimental progress, so we had to get off the island as soon as possible. Our group had already overstayed our welcome as it was, with the facility's food supplies dwindling and the possibility of being discovered by a surprise visitor looming over our heads all the time. It was quite a task, smuggling over a hundred kids to shore with a few tiny vessels, but we managed it. I swear, I've never been more excited to get off a boat than I was when we were leaving Springer Island.

The rest of the night was spent walking in total silence along the shoreline, trying to get as far away from that place as possible, while Vera and Gazzy flew ahead looking for shelter. All of us crammed into an abandoned building that first morning, just as the sun was starting to rise, and rested there until it was dark again. We repeated the process, walking at night and hiding by day, until we had wandered deep into the woods, where I was sure those clone officers—Iggy and Gazzy called them Collectors—would never come looking for us.

Roughing it out in the wilderness wasn't exactly pleasant, but it was peaceful. Other than a few wild animals and some poison ivy here and there, it was safe. The flying kids had scavenged up enough tents and tarps to keep everyone sheltered at night, and between their regular excursions and the food-finding groups led by our handful of ex-Boy Scouts we were able to keep everyone pretty well fed. It was hard work, but nobody minded much; if anything, it was a welcome distraction as we waited to make our next move.

A lot of the older kids supported my offensive strike idea. After everything they'd been put through, and everything we'd done to fight back, they didn't like the idea of letting the Supremacy get away with these things any more than I did. They wanted to hunt down other facilities like the one on Springer Island, to sabotage the Supremacy and rescue kids who were like them. Most of the bird kids got onboard too; they were hot targets now that they were mutants, and safety was in numbers. Also, I think they were a little scared of what their families would think of them now that they had wings.

There were still plenty of others who wanted to go home, though, namely the younger kids in the group. Even Craig said he wanted to return home when he got the chance. I was sad that he'd be leaving, since he'd been so helpful, but I knew that losing his sister had been hard. He wanted to get back to his dad and older brother as soon as possible.

Of course, figuring out how to get everyone back home was a whole other dilemma, with all the fences and the lack of vehicles making transportation a nightmare—especially for a bunch of fugitives. I hoped that Angel might offer her mind control services to help with the dilemma, once she arrived here. Iggy and Gazzy had left a few days back to find her, Nudge, my mom and the dogs. Hopefully they would all be alive and well and waiting for the guys at the airport, like they'd agreed to when they split up. I had been a bit anxious of course, being apart from Iggy again so soon, but when he was leaving he'd reassured me confidently, "Hey, I haven't come this far just to lose you now." With any luck, he and the others would be arriving back any day.

There was only one person left who hadn't taken up a task or decided what she was going to do next, and that was Vera. I was walking through the woods one afternoon when I found her sitting up in a tree with a contemplative expression on her face, like she was trying to make up her mind about something.

"Mind if I join you?" I asked, climbing up into the tree's lower branches and working my way up.

Vera looked down at me and smirked. "Are you sure the lemmings will be alright without you there to boss them around?"

"They're preoccupied at the moment." I sat down next to her. "So, what are you doing?"

"Thinking about leaving. If I wanted to, I could spread my wings and never think about your motley crew even again."

"I know," I said plainly, "Just like you could have taken off on Springer Island instead of staying behind to help us."

"You thought I would ditch, didn't you?" Vera answered with a sardonic smile, "Sorry, predictable was Max's thing."

"You're definitely not Max, that's for sure," I muttered, trying not to grin.

Vera gave me a hard glare. "What are you saying?"

"Nothing," I replied innocently, "just thinking out loud. So, what will you do if you end up leaving?"

Vera shrugged. "I'll find somewhere isolated to settle down, maybe on a mountain or something. I'll live off the land for a few years, then move into the city, somewhere rundown with lots of hot-headed teenagers to start fights with."

"Really?" I stared at her incredulously. "That sounds like a stupid way to spend your life."

Vera glared at me again, irritated by my brash opinions. "Funny, for a minute it seemed like you weren't afraid of me. But we both know better than that."

"Guess again," I said wryly, "I haven't been scared of you for a long time." If there was one thing I'd learned spending time around Vera, it was that nine times out of ten she was all talk.

That time, however, was apparently that last one out of ten. Vera snarled and pushed me out of the tree, sending me plummeting to the leafy ground below. (It's a good thing it wasn't a very tall tree.) I moaned softly, and Vera rolled her eyes. "Geez, humans are so fragile." She jumped down and stood there, watching me clamber back onto my feet.

"Still not scared of you," I wheezed, trying to catch my breath.

"Why?" Vera glowered at me, her body tensed angrily, "Why are you so sure that I won't snap you like a twig and leave you here for someone else to deal with?"

"Because," I stood up off the ground, "I finally figured out what Max had that you didn't. And I know that you want it."

"Oh?" Vera's expression didn't falter. "And what exactly is that?"

"People." Standing up as tall as I could, I looked her straight in the eyes and said, "Everything Max ever did was for other people. She cared about people, and people cared about her. That's why she wouldn't kill you: because in some way, she cared about you too."

Vera stood there silently, fists clenched and jaw set. For a moment I was afraid she was going to punch me. "I don't care about anybody," she spat. But seeing her then, all worked up and agitated, I couldn't help but think there was a subconscious second half to that sentence. I don't care about anybody, and nobody cares about me. She was so alone, I realized, and she had no idea how to change that.

Of course, showing her pity would have gotten me murdered, so I had to try a slightly different tactic. "But maybe you want to care?" I suggested, "It's alright to need somebody, you know. I needed you back at the facility. And maybe you needed me too."

"I could've escaped on my own," Vera muttered, but her stance had relaxed and her eyes were downcast, like she wasn't really focused on arguing anymore.

"Look, I want us to be friends," I told her, "and I want you to help me lead. I need someone reliable who knows how take charge, and you were great on Springer Island." I gave her a pleading look. "If you're not ready to need someone, maybe you're at least ready to be needed?"

Vera stopped to consider, her eyes darting between me and the ground as she considered the situation. Then, "I guess I could stick around for a while. It gives me an opportunity to beat up those sorry clone soldiers the Supremacy created." She smirked, and added, "I have a score to settle with them."

"Shake on it?" I held out my hand, which Vera took firmly. However, instead of shaking I caught her off guard and pulled her into a quick hug. "I'm glad you're staying," I told her with a smile, "Besides, you're Max's clone, and Max is my sister. That kind of makes you my sister too."

"I guess," Vera mumbled, looking extremely uncomfortable.

I began walking back to camp, feeling greatly encouraged. I probably had internal bruising from the fall, I mused, but it was a step in the right direction.