Maximum Ride: The Angel Experiment

30

"You think that wire will hold?" the Gasman whispered.

Iggy nodded, frowning as he twisted the two cable ends together with pliers. He leaned against the pine tree for leverage, and when the wire was tight, he snapped on a cable clamp and pinched it shut. "That'll hold a bit," he whispered back. "Until a certain Hummer hits it at top speed."

The Gasman nodded grimly. What a night. They had gotten so much done -- Max couldn't have done better herself. He hoped Max had already rescued Angel by now. He hoped nothing has gone wrong. If the whitecoats had gotten hold of Angel. . . For just an instant he saw her white and lifeless, laid on a cold steel slab while whitecoats lectured about her unusual bone structure. He swallowed and shook the dreadful image off. Once more, he glanced around, listening.

"Back home?" Iggy whispered.

"Yeah." Standing up, the Gasman pushed off from the ground, staying close to the trees. He followed Iggy's dark shadow as he barked and headed west, toward home. From up here, the Gasman couldn't see any of their handiwork -- which was a good thing. They didn't want the Erasers' chopper to be able to pick out the tarp or the trip wire until it was too late.

"We covered the ways in and out," he said to Iggy once they were at cruising height. "Oil slick, nails in the road, trip wire. That should do it."

Iggy nodded. "I'm bummed we couldn't use Big Boy," he said. "But I don't want to waste it. We have to actually see them first. I mean, you do."

"Maybe tomorrow," the Gasman said encouragingly. "We'll go out to see the havoc we've wreaked."

"Wrought," said Iggy.

"Whatever," said the Gasman, breathing deeply in the cool night air. Wait till Max found out how cool they had been.