Rogue by Gina Damico Page B

“Crap,” she whispered. “Do you think someone followed us here? We’re in the middle of—”
    “Nowhere,” signed Bang. “Yes, all Grimsphere locations are in the middle of nowhere. And yet people keep finding them, so I think that by now, discovery is a valid concern!”
    Lex jumped out of the hard chair and ran into the adjoining bedroom. “Uncle Mort,” she said, shaking him gently. “There are noises outside.”
    He swooped out of the bed fully dressed and ready for action, as if he’d known that she’d inevitably barge in to announce trouble. Which, given their recent history, was an entirely reasonable assumption to make. “For how long?” he asked her, heading for the kitchen.
    “I don’t know. Pip and Bang just woke me up.”
    More scratching noises came from above, and Uncle Mort’s face went pale. “Yeah. Someone’s here.”
    “Call Pandora—or Wicket! She’s standing guard outside, isn’t she?”
    “Yes, but since she didn’t alert us, we have to assume she’s already been compromised.”
    The commotion had woken Ferbus and Elysia, who emerged from their rooms once again. “What now?” Ferbus whined.
    “Shhh,” Pip said, pointing up. “We think someone’s here.”
    Lex’s eyes lit up as an idea steamrolled into her head. “Driggs!” She ran into the bedroom, climbed up the ladder, and shook him awake. He was solid—which, for once, was not a good thing. “Driggs, wake up.”
    “Gah.”
    “There’s someone here!”
    “Bwa?”
    “I have an idea. You can fly up there and tell us what’s happening and who’s out there.”
    Driggs stared, then continued his str [inu

    “If you’re part”—she still didn’t like saying the word “ghost”—“part corporeally challenged, then you should be able to fly at will, right? Or float? Bob? Something?”
    “I can try.” Driggs screwed up his face in concentration, but only managed to create the opposite desired effect—his body became denser.
    “You!” Lex shouted at Grotton, who seemed to have materialized for the sole purpose of watching Driggs’s failed attempts. “Help him!”
    “I’m along for the ride to help you save the world, or some such nonsense,” Grotton said testily. “I wasn’t hired for pilot training.”
    Lex and Driggs grunted in the exact same pitch and tone. “Try relaxing,” she told Driggs. “Stop thinking about making yourself transparent. Just let your mind go.”
    He started to fade.
    “Faster!” Lex said. “Relax harder!”
    “Relax harder? Never become a yoga instructor, Lex.”
    “Come on!”
    Taking a deep breath, Driggs shut his eyes and went limp. Three seconds later, his transparent form shot into the air, yelling
“Holy f—!”
as he dissolved into the ceiling.
    Lex went back to the kitchen to wait with the others, but she didn’t have to wait long; Driggs reappeared only moments later. He looked stricken, and his voice was thick as he choked out the last two words any of them wanted to hear.
    “We’re surrounded.”



7
     
    “It’s Norwood,” Driggs said. “And about twenty others. They’re scattered all over the place. No guns, as far as I could tell, but plenty of scythes.”
    “Dammit,” said Uncle Mort. “They probably tracked our location through the Cuffs when Broomie called. I
told
her . . .”
    “I didn’t see Wicket anywhere,” Driggs continued. “Pandora was about to start the car and run everyone over, but I told her to wait until we figure out a plan.” He looked at Uncle Mort. “So what’s the plan?”
    Uncle Mort was pacing. “We don’t have one.”
    “What?” Lex jumped in front of him. “You have a plan for everything. All the time. What do you mean we don’t have one?”
    “I mean that all the weapons are in the car. This was supposed to be a safe house, no one knew we were coming here, and Wicket was supposed to have our backs.”
    “What about Crashing?” Pip said. “We can land right in the car and go!”
    “No more