Maximum Ride: The Angel Experiment

28

"Okay," said Iggy. "We're being very careful. Hello? Gazzy? We're being very careful?"

"Check," said the Gasman, patting the explosive package they called Big Boy.

"Nails?"

The Gasman rattled the jar. "Check."

"Tarp? Cooking oil?"

"Check, check." The Gasman nodded. "We are geniuses. Those Erasers'll never know what hit 'em. If only we had time to dig a pit."

"Yea, and put poison stakes at the bottom," Iggy agreed. "But I think what we've got is good. Now we need to fly out of sight, and check on how the roads run, and whether the Erasers have made camp anywhere."

"Okay. Then we seed the roads with the nails and set up the tarp and oil." The Gasman grinned. "We just have to make sure not to get caught."

"Yes. That would be bad," Iggy said with a straight face. "Now is it night yet?"

"Pretty much. I found you some dark clothes." The Gasman pressed a shirt and pants into Iggy's hands. "And I've got some too. So, you ready to roll?" He hoped Iggy couldn't hear how nervous he was. This was a great plan; they had to do it -- but failure would be disastrous. And probably deadly.

"Yeah. I'm bringing Big Boy in case an opportunity arises." Iggy changed his clothes, then put their homemade bomb into a backpack and slung it onto his shoulders. "Don't worry," he said, as if he could see the Gasman's expression. "It can't go off till I set the timer. It's like, a safety bomb."

The Gasman tried to smile. He cranked open the hall window as wide as it would go perched on the ledge. His palms were sweating, and his stomach was all fluttery. But he had no choice -- this was for Angel. This was to show people what would happen if they messed with his family.

He swallowed hard and launched himself out I to the night air. It was amazing to be able to spread his wings and fly. It was great. As he felt the night wind against his face, the Gasman's spirits rose. He felt strong, powerful, and dangerous. Not at all like an eight-year-old mutant freak.