A/N: That moment you emerge, gasping, from a sea of school, work, and life in general and realize you haven't updated since the beginning of the semester. Sorry.

I stifle another yawn with the back of my hand and blink a little too long. I decided a long time ago I wouldn't be able to sleep with everything going on; no reason to make two people stay up all night by forcing someone else to drive. Another yawn, and this time my eyes water a little. Ugh, you'd think I'd never pulled an all-nighter before. Luckily, I can see the beginnings of sunrise on the horizon.

With the sun up, it's much more clear how far we've travelled. By my estimation (which is usually pretty good, but lately has been as accurate as Iggy's description of Fang's fashion choices: "Uh, jeans and a sports jersey?"), we've been driving about ten hours in a west/southwest direction. If we started a few hours' fly away from the D.C. area, we should be well past the West Virginia/Kentucky border. It's not far enough for me to relax (not that I would ever really relax), but it's actually further than I thought we could get in this car.

I would have thought that stealing a cop car would cause us more problems, but this particular force must have been well-funded, because the car's got decent mileage. And apparently no cop wants to pull over another cruiser, even when the driver looks a few years too young to be a county sheriff. Even said, it's too much to expect the car's fuel to last forever; it gave a warning ding about half an hour ago, and I'm just waiting to pull over and ditch the car until it's light enough outside I won't have a repeat of the other night.

That is, until the car sputters to a stop. The little red arrow on the gas meter points to an area just below the 'E'. I rest my forehead on the steering wheel and take a deep breath (definitely not a yawn). I understand now why the whitecoats were so desperate to find some new method of human transportation. (Maybe they should have looked into advancing roller blades instead of altering the DNA of infants, but hey, that's just my opinion.)

It takes too much effort to force myself to sound chipper. Er, at least not dead. "Rise and shine, boys."

James rolls away from me and mumbles something about not being a singing orphan. I never had this problem – have this problem – with Iggy. Ig's usually the first to greet me in the morning, although I guess whether he's coherent yet is debatable. (He once tried to scramble eggs in the toaster, and even I know that won't work).

I shift my attention to the back seat. Nick's eyes are shut, but I can tell he's awake when he runs careful fingers through Nathan's messy hair. The kid stirs, but judging by the circles under his eyes – he's too young to have circles under his eyes – it's probably best that he sleeps while he can.

"Did you drive all night?" Nick whispers, his eyes barely cracked open.

I shrug like it's no big deal. It's not. Nathan shifts his head in Nick's lap and Nick grimaces. Oh, right. "How's your leg?"

He shrugs. Typical.

I roll my eyes. "Let James take a look at it while I get some breakfast out." At the mention of his name, James groans. "Sorry, James, but you know more about treating wounds than I do." At least, if his high school classes count for anything. As for me, it would be easier to learn how to treat large wounds if they stuck around for more than a few days. The downsides of mutant healing powers, I guess.

The two of us climb out of the cruiser and open the back doors quietly. Nick shifts Nathan's head onto the car seat so James' examination won't disturb him.

James startles at the sight. "When did we pick up another passenger?" He looks at me questioningly. "I didn't think we were dragging a kid into this."

Nick smothers a smirk. "You were there."

"I was probably asleep." Uh-huh. Or something.

"His name is Nathan. Found him last night in the Middle of Nowhere by himself." I frown. "From his reaction at seeing me, I don't think we're dragging him into anything new."

I fish a few protein bars out of the backpack in the trunk while James assesses the ugly scab forming on Nick's leg (apparently that's a good thing?). Nick holds Nathan while James and I push the cruiser off the side of the road, where it rolls into a ditch out of view from anyone driving by. I don't mention I should have been able to move the car by myself. Then Nathan is passed to James, I take the backpack, and we hike through the woods about an hour before I'm comfortable we won't be found easily.

Nathan wakes up somewhere along our warm-up excursion, but I couldn't tell unless I saw his eyes blink open. He's uncharacteristically quiet, and as much as I want to chalk it up to exhaustion, my gut tells me it's something more.

When we've found a reasonably soft place to rest, I stop. Without a word, Nick and James plop to the ground, breathing heavily. It's not hot, per se, but it's that special kind of humid that makes it feel like it's a billion degrees. It makes flying miserable; our wings feel at least twelve times heavier from all the moisture in the air. Nathan slides out of James' lap to occupy his own spot against a tree. I pass water around.

It's uncomfortably silent until James finally says what we've all been thinking: "What's up, Max?"

I fall to the forest floor myself and crack open a water bottle. "You're going to have to be more specific."

"Can we start with him?" Nick asks, tilting his head in Nathan's direction. The kid's fingers tighten around his water bottle, but his eyes don't leave the forest floor.

"Um, yeah." Right, the Gazzy doppelganger is weird for everyone else. I never have been good at introductions – never got a lot of practice meeting new people in the mountains of Colorado – so just put it bluntly. "Everyone, this is Nathan. Nathan, this is James and N-"

"Nicholas Walker." Nathan draws his knees up to hide his abdomen. "Wanted kidnapper."

Oh, right.

I wonder how wide my eyes go in comparison to Nick's and James'. Nick scoots further away from Nathan, as though he's afraid he'll hurt him somehow. I resist the urge to gather the kid into my lap and rub his back like I would Gazzy. Nathan doesn't really know me; it would only freak him out more.

"Woah, Nathan. We can explain - "

He hugs his knees but finally looks up. His eyes are wide, terrified as they were last night. "Are you with them? Please – I won't say anything! I just want to go home!"

Nick intervenes with a surprisingly calm voice for someone who's been accused of kidnapping. "It's okay, we aren't going to hurt you. You can leave any time you want to."

Maybe not the most comforting words in the middle of an uninhabited forest, but it seems to help. Nathan seems at least somewhat reassured, because he takes a deep breath and his fingers slacken from their death grip on his bottle. "The news at the bus station said you're a kidnapper though. That's why they - " here he looks at James and me "- are here."

"The news is wrong," James replies. I don't point out that James was technically kidnapped, being forced to drive the getaway vehicle and all.

Nick and I exchange looks. Neither of us had, apparently, thought the news would spread outside of the state.

I feel a chill go down my spine at a sudden thought. "You don't think. . . Nathan, have you seen pictures? Of me?" If there are pictures of me on the news, our problems with the local authority will pale in comparison to whatever the School sends after our fresh trail.

Nathan shakes his head. "No, just of Nichol—Nick. And James." My shoulders sag with relief. "But I haven't seen the news since the bus station, and that was a while ago."

Nope, shoulders tense again. "A bus station?" Is that where he ran into trouble? And I find it hard to imagine there's a bus station anywhere near here.

His eyebrows furrow. "Yeah, but that was two days ago. I think."

"Two days ago!" James sits up straighter. "Have you been running since then?"

Nick's eyes widen a fraction at the implication. No wonder the kid was so exhausted.

Nathan's breath hitches. "I'm not running away. At least. . . I wasn't. . ." He buries his face in his knees and I barely make out his next words. "Please don't send me back."

I will send his scrawny butt right back where he came from; no way he's travelling with us. I can tell James agrees with me, but Nick's mouth is set in a hard line.

Before he can make any promises he can't keep, I butt in. "I promise we'll keep you safe." Whether that means sending him back or not has yet to be determined. Nick looks away from me, but I can tell from the tightening in his shoulders that he's not happy with my answer. Well, I am not going to be responsible for yet another dropout; I already have James to feel guilty about.

Nathan, without suspicion, looks up. "Okay, if you promise. . . It's. It's kind of a long story."

I try for a reassuring smile. "Just start from the beginning. Where do you live?" Where are we headed next if this story is going where I think it is?

"A lot of places. But for the last few months I've been in Ohio." Nick gives a low whistle, and I raise my eyebrows. Bus ride or not, that's a lot of ground to cover.

"Do you move a lot?" I ask.

He fidgets with the hem of his pants. "Yeah. Miss Donna says it's because I'm getting older."

Nick's expression shifts, like he understands something. He turns more directly towards Nathan. "Who is Miss Donna?"

Nathan's face scrunches up. "She's my social worker."

And for the second time in as many minutes I want to give the kid a hug.

I remember asking Jeb what would happen if we were caught, not by the School, but by 'the world.' He said we'd be taken away, separated, and sent to different homes until we were old enough to take care of ourselves. To which I'd reply that we can take care of ourselves, to which Jeb would say the government didn't care because we're just kids without parents. I would point out that we had Jeb. He would shake his head: not close enough.

"Nathan," I venture, "are you. . . are you an orphan?"

He seems to shrink. Shrugs without any confidence. "Miss Donna said my parents couldn't take care of me or Angie, so that's why we had to be put in the system. But Adrian – another boy at Hillview – he said my parents didn't love us and threw us away."

Nick's face gets darker. His eyes flash towards mine with a sense of urgency. I do my best to ignore him. Nathan's still safer with a social worker than with us. At the same time, though, I'm distracted by a feeling in my gut. "Wait, so Angie is your sister?"

He nods. "Yeah." I tuck that little tidbit of information in the back of my mind to mull over later. If Nathan looks like Gazzy, does 'Angie' look like Angel?

"And tomorrow. . . no, day after tomorrow. . . her birthday is soon, and I wanted to give her her birthday present, because nobody at the girls' home knows what she likes. Miss Donna said I can't see her, though, because I'd miss too much school." Here he looks up, sheepish. "So I decided I would, um, take my own vacation?"

"And just how far away is Angie?"

"Texas."

James blinks. "You're joking." He looks at me. "Please tell me he's joking."

Nathan drops his knees. "I was going to take a bus all the way down, but I missed it because of what happened at school." His fingers curl in the dirt. "I was going to leave right before the pep rally, because they don't take attendance and nobody would realize I was gone until I was already on the bus. But the alarms went off, and those bad people came. . . " He shudders. "I had to hide in the tunnels until they left. I don't know if they saw me, but. . .

"I think they blew up my school."

Nick's head snaps around to meet my eyes. James chokes on the water he was trying to chug. I take a second to compose myself before prompting him further. "The bad people, you saw them?"

He nodded. "I was hiding in the secret tunnels and that's how they left."

"What did they look like?"

"It was dark. I couldn't see faces, but. . . I think they were all kids. And they had other kids, from my school, with them."

James holds a hand up, finally able to breathe normally again. "Wait, back up. You said something about secret tunnels?"

Nathan grins hesitantly. "Yeah. They're really cool." Then the smile breaks across his face. "There were rumors, but nobody really believed they were there, but then I found them!"

James looks at Nick and me. "There were the same kind of rumors at my high school. Before it exploded."

It's Nathan's turn to be surprised. "You, too? Oh! Are you from that school in DC?"

"It's close to DC, yeah. And I guess it technically doesn't exist anymore."

"Nathan," I ask, "when did all of this happen?"

He looks down as he counts. "Um, three days ago?"

I look at Nick and James. "About two weeks after the one in DC."

"And wasn't there one before that, too? Somewhere in Idaho, I think?" James adds. Suddenly he's caught all of our interest. "It was in the news, a week before ours?"

I clear my throat. "I don't know a lot about the state of the world or anything, but that's not normal, right?"

Nick nods, looking thoughtfully at a fallen tree to the left of me. "No, that's definitely weird."

James frowns. "So, what, you think there's an organization of kids going around blowing schools up? Sure, I find school as taxing as every other kid, but it seems kind of violent." Nick hums in agreement.

Nathan sits up a little straighter. "Actually, I think. . . " Once he has our attention, he looks like he's going to back out, but I urge him on. "Well, they had kids from my school when they left. They were tied up and stuff. I've been thinking about what I heard, and I don't think they wanted to hurt anybody."

James nods thoughtfully. "They did call ahead and warn the schools to evacuate every time."

Nick looks at James. "You think the school in Idaho had tunnels, too?"

James' eyes light up. "I don't know, but I bet we could find out! We just need to find a computer, get on the internet."

Nathan nods, smiling with excitement. "I heard about our tunnels from the high schoolers, but learned more about them online. I thought it was a joke, but then it sounded pretty believable."

"Last I heard, they still haven't found any bodies. I bet all of the missing kids have just been kidnapped!" James throws a fist into the air. "We can totally – "

"Y'all." I put my hand up in the universal hold-your-horses gesture. "No. We are not getting involved."

James deflates. "But – "

"Need I remind you that we are on the run for a reason? We already have the police and some crazy ambiguous 'Them' after us. The last thing we need to do is attract more attention. In fact, the smart thing to do is find a cave away from civilization to live in for, like, the next two centuries." Or an E-shaped house up in the mountains of Colorado.

"Until then," I continue, "we need to duck our heads and keep moving. It's the only way we can survive."

Without thinking about it, I look to Nick, raising my eyebrows in a help-me-out-here way. He nods. "She's right. What would we do when we proved it, anyways? We can't tell anyone; I, at least, would be arrested, and at worse all of us would be killed."

"We can't just hold on to this information and not doing anything about it!" James protests.

I cross my arms. Sitting cross-legged, it probably comes off as more of a five-year-old-moping-in-the-corner than leader-getting-the-last-word-in, but paired with my personality I think it does the trick. "We can, and we will. There are rules of survival, and one of them is to look after your own. I won't let any of you risk your safety for a bunch of strangers."

"Look who's talking," Nick mumbles. I shoot him a look. He shrugs. "You don't know any of us, and you could fly out of harm's way."

"That's. . . it's different."

"How?"

How am I supposed to explain it? My Flock went missing and you look exactly like them, so I'm going to drag you around as company until I find my real family? Jeesh, that makes me sound like a kidnapper. I wince internally. Maybe I am. "It's complicated, okay?"

Nick mirrors my posture but personalizes it with an infuriating smirk. "You just said our goal is to become invisible to the world for the next two hundred years. I think we have time for you to un-complicate things."

"Yeah," chimes in James, "you've already explained the bird stuff, anyway. How much more complicated can it get?"

I am feeling so attacked right now. "You know what? Fine. My family disappeared and you all look exactly like them. Happy?"

Stunned silence.

"Like," James starts, "exactly like them?"

I huff out a breath. "Yes. I mean, you obviously don't have wings, and your hair is shorter, and frankly my family has a little more muscle mass, but otherwise you could be twins." I smile ruefully. "The only reason I followed Nick around at first is because I thought he was a clone."

Nathan searches all of our faces frantically. "What are you talking about?"

I fill him in, this time elaborating my story for everybody's sake. By the end, my throat burns from talking through a lump trying to form. I hastily drink more water.

"And that's everything I'm comfortable telling you guys. The less you know, the safer you'll be, okay?"

Nick nods absentmindedly, lost in thought. Nathan's staring at my wings, which I let out a few minutes ago when they started to feel too tight against my back. James looks at me, opens his mouth to say something, then snaps it shut again. "What is it, James?"

"This might be rude, I don't know, I've never met somebody who knows my doppelganger. But which one do I remind you of?"

Whew. I was worried he was going to press for a different kind of information. "You look like Iggy. Nathan reminds me of Gazzy."

"And I'm Fang?" Nick asks, a single eyebrow raised.

I can't make eye contact when I nod. My face is heating up. "Yeah, pretty close."

"What's different?"

Fang knows me better than anybody else in the whole world. He swallows his words instead of saying them. He's got my back no matter what. "He doesn't smile much."

Nick hums, standing up and dusting off his pants. "He's probably just better at hiding it."

Something flutters in my stomach, and I stubbornly refuse to acknowledge it.

Minutes later, we've packed our bags and are surveying the forest for the easiest route for travel.

"Which way?" Nick asks.

I shrug. "West. Further away from DC, the better."

A small hand catches the back of my jacket. "Max, I thought we were going south?"

I turn around. Nathan takes a few steps back, away from me. "Why?" Did I miss something? I leaf through all of the information my brain has processed in the last half hour (hint: a bookshelf's worth).

"That's where Angie. . . ." He trails off, his shoulders slumping. "Oh, right. Sorry. Um, thanks for the food. I'll just. . ." He takes a few more steps back, then looks around, turning a complete circle, squints at the sky briefly, and looks back to me. "Do you know which way is south?"

"You aren't going to Texas, Nathan," Nick intervenes.

Nathan takes a cautious step back. "You said I could leave any time I wanted to."

"Yeah," says James, "but that was before we realized you were trying to travel across the country by yourself."

Nathan's eyes go wide. "You can't send me back! You promised!"

"You aren't going back to Ohio, either," Nick says, closing the distance between Nathan and himself in a single stride. "We promised to keep you safe, and right now you're safest with us." His head turns toward me but his eyes stay on the kid. "Right, Max?"

I pinch the bridge of my nose. Three teenagers trekking the country, sure, but adding a kid to the mix? Then again, I'm thinking this like I've never done it before. "Are you sure they saw you?" I plead with my eyes.

Nathan hesitates. "I don't know. I think they heard me, though. When they opened the door and I was trying to hide."

"The press will release photos of the missing students." Nick says. "When 'they' realize there's a kid on the list who wasn't one of their victims, they will know who was in the tunnel."

James, standing next to me, tenses. "They'll know who to look for."

I take an even breath, half to help myself collect my thoughts and half in hopes of inspiring Nathan to do the same. "You're right. Nathan, you're coming with us."

"No."

All three of us startle. "No?"

"I'm going to Texas. To see Angie."

I suck in a breath. "Nathan, you can't. It's not safe; that's the first place they'll look."

He crosses his arms but can't make eye contact. "I don't care. I. . . I miss her."

Nick gives me a very pointed look. An 'I know you know how that feels' look. "You did say that you have to look out for your own."

Nathan continues. "I'm going to Texas, whether you come with me or not." Gazzy wasn't called a trooper for being compliant. I am thankful for his stubborn streak as often as I am frustrated by it.

"I made a promise to keep you safe." The boys look at me hopefully. "If we're going to Texas, it's under my rules. Capiche?"

A/N: And we finally have a destination! Yay! As some of you guessed correctly, there is a connection between the tunnels and the school bombings. And Nathan is Gazzy.

As usual, if you see anything wrong, just let me know!