Part 9 (1/2)

Boom! Only it was more like Only it was more like ba-ba-boooooom! ba-ba-boooooom!

The two boys recoiled from the blast, tumbling backward in the air from the shock wave. The Gasman righted himself, eyes wide, as a fireball ten yards in diameter rose from where the cabin had been.

He was speechless.

After the fireball from Big Boy disintegrated, the cabin burned brightly, its old, rotted wood consumed as instantly as kindling. Flames reached for the sky, licking at the green trees nearby, snaking along the ground as brittle brown pine needles caught fire.

G.o.d, it was beautiful.

”Well,” Iggy said after a long while, ”that takes care of them. them.”

The Gasman nodded, feeling sick. One dark body had flown upward in the blast, falling back to earth as a glowing coal. The other Eraser had crawled a few feet away from the cabin, a burning silhouette that had collapsed, its outlines blurred by flame.

”Unless they escaped,” Iggy added.

Of course Iggy hadn't seen anything. The Gasman cleared his throat. ”No,” he said. ”They're dead.” He felt slightly queasy, guilty, and dirty. Then he remembered Angel, how she'd shared the last of the ice cream with him three nights ago. She was so small, and G.o.d only knew what horrible things they were doing to her. His jaw hardened.

”Take that, that,” he muttered. ”That was for my sister, for Angel, Angel, you sc.u.m-sucking jerks.” you sc.u.m-sucking jerks.”

Then he saw the black Hummer, its hood crumpled, driving fast toward the burning cabin. An Eraser was leaning out the pa.s.senger window, looking through binoculars.

”Come on, Iggy,” said the Gasman. ”Let's get out of here.”

37.

The bell clanged jarringly, and rough hands pushed Angel forward. She stumbled, catching herself at the last second before falling onto coils of razor wire.

Angel wanted to cry. She'd been doing this all day-it was late afternoon by now.

She was starving and light-headed and every muscle ached-and still they made her run.

It was a maze, Angel knew that.

They had made it in a huge gymlike room in the School's main building. They rang a bell and pushed her forward, and then she had to run as fast as she could to find the exit. Each time, the maze was different, the exit in a different place. If she slowed down, she got an electric shock so strong it scrambled her brain, or red-hot wires under her feet burned her. So, eyes blurry with tears, Angel ran forward blindly, taking this turn and that until she finally stumbled out the exit.

Then she would get a sip of water and a five-minute rest while they redid the maze.

Angel sniffled, trying to keep quiet. She hated this! If only she knew beforehand-if only she knew, knew, she could run through fast and not get shocked or burned. she could run through fast and not get shocked or burned.

Angel sat up, a tingle of excitement running down her spine. She closed her eyes and tried to listen to what the whitecoats were thinking.

One of them wanted to let an Eraser loose in the maze, have it fight with her, see how strong she really was. One of them thought they should increase the heated wires so she always had to run on them, whether she was slowing down or not. Then he could study the effect of stress on her adrenaline levels.

Angel wanted them all to burn in h-e-double toothpicks forever.

One of them was designing the next maze, the creep.

Angel concentrated, trying to look as though she was resting. Someone gave her another sip of water, and she sucked it down fast. She could see the rough plan of the maze! It was in her mind because it was in the whitecoat's mind. Deliberately, Angel breathed in and out, looking spent, but she felt a new surge of possibility.

She got it. She knew what the next maze would look like. Blinking tiredly, Angel sat up, keeping her eyes unfocused. In her mind, she was reviewing the maze's layout: a quick right, then another right, then a left, skip the next three rights and take the fourth one . . . and so on, till she saw the exit.

She could see all the traps, the dead ends, the paths that led nowhere.

She could hardly wait to blow their minds. This would be fun!

A whitecoat grabbed her, made her stand in front of the new maze's entrance.

The bell clanged.

Someone pushed her.

Angel took off. Running as fast as she could in case all the wires were hot, she took a quick right, another right, then a left, and so on. She raced through with record speed, with no hesitation. She didn't get shocked once and never felt a hot wire under her feet.

She burst out of the maze's exit, then collapsed onto the cool wooden floor.

Time pa.s.sed.

Words floated to her: Amazing. Cognitive ability. Interpretive skills. Creative problem solving. Dissect her brain. Preserve her organs. Extract her DNA. Amazing. Cognitive ability. Interpretive skills. Creative problem solving. Dissect her brain. Preserve her organs. Extract her DNA.

A voice said, ”No, no, we can't dissect her brain just yet.” The speaker laughed, as if it were funny. His voice sounded . . . like she'd heard it in a fairy tale or something, like at night, or at home, or with Max. . . .

Angel blinked and swam toward consciousness. She made the mistake of looking up. An older man was there. He wore wire-rimmed gla.s.ses and was smiling at her. She got no thoughts from him whatsoever. He looked . . .

”h.e.l.lo, Angel,” said Jeb Batchelder kindly. ”I haven't seen you in a long time. I missed you, kiddo.”

38.

Nudge didn't know exactly what Fang expected to see. Max, flying toward them? Max, standing on the ground below, waving her arms to get their attention? Max's body, crumpled-Nudge shut that thought down. She would just wait. Fang was older and really smart; Max trusted him. Nudge trusted him too.

How far back had Max separated from them? Nudge couldn't remember. She and Fang had been flying in ever-widening circles for hours. How did they know Max hadn't pa.s.sed them somehow and was waiting for them back at Lake Mead?

”Fang? Do you remember where we left Max?”

”Yes.”

”Are we going to go there?”

Pause. ”Not if we can help it.”