Angel (Maximum Ride 7)

This day, I had left the annoying people in Jeb’s airplane, trapped inside a little tin can, while I flew free, chilly air filling my lungs, about two hundred feet away from them. The plane was small, a fancy corporate jet, and everyone—the flock, my mom, Dr. Gub-Hub, the blond DNA donor, and of course Jeb—had opted to travel the easy way.

One odd thing about flying today: the cobwebs weren’t clearing out of my head. Instead, my mind was clouded with misgivings as we flew low over the Arizona mountains. I had not promised to lead the Gen 77 kids. This was a look-see only. I mean, who am I? Joan of Flock? I had my hands full with my own family, my own romantic disasters complications. I couldn’t help wondering if this had all been a setup—if Jeb and the Hanster had cooked up this plan to get us interested, to get us on their side. I can’t help it—it’s just my suspicious nature. That, and the fact that they’re both lying, manipulative weasels.

Oh, I see something, Angel thought at me. (She’s the only one of us who can project thoughts into other minds at will.) At two o’clock.

I looked, and when I squinted, I could see buildings with camouflage netting, in shades of tan and green and brown, over them. Which made them almost impossible to detect from the air. Unless you had super birdkid raptor vision.

Yeah, got it, I thought. Well, let’s go down and see what we can find out. But way deep inside, I was thinking that maybe I would just hang back, be on my guard, not get sucked into a trap.

Then I remembered that Angel could read minds and that I couldn’t actually keep some thoughts deeper inside my head than others.

Crap.

I sped up, leaving the plane behind, and concentrated on the ground, scanning the area a good distance out. I saw no vehicles, no—

I don’t know what made me look up at that moment, but I did, and suddenly, not fifty feet in front of my face, was a huge, clear—jellyfish? I was going almost three hundred miles an hour, and I plowed right into that sucker.

12

IT WAS LIKE hitting a squishy balloon. Going as fast as I was, I sank deep into it, as if I’d hit a bouncy castle face-first and vertically. My head was pressed against a thick, smooth film, and for several horrible moments I had the feeling of being smothered, my wings bent painfully back. Then, boing! I bounced out of it, arms and legs flailing wildly, my stalled wings causing me to drop quickly before I could catch myself.

What the heck?!

It had literally bounced me back about sixty feet, and from this distance I could see that it was a huge, clear, weird thing. It was practically invisible, and I realized with shock that there were hundreds of these balloon-type things, each one as big as a city bus. They were all tethered to the ground below by hairlike, glistening metal wires.

Cautiously I got a little closer, and then zzzip! The tip of one of my wings brushed a wire, which sliced the ends off some of my primary feathers. It didn’t hit skin or bone, but it went through my feathers like they were tissue paper.

It seems the glistening was caused by diamond dust. These wires were designed to slice things—

I whirled, waving my arms at the jet, which was approaching fast, hoping Angel would tune in to my thoughts

Angel! Get Jeb to swerve! This place is booby-trapped!

Angel looked out the window at me, then rushed to the cockpit, yelling.

But it was too late—the plane flew right into the sea of wires.

Almost immediately, one of the engines sucked a balloon-type thing into its intake, and boom! There was a huge explosion and a fireball twenty feet across. The force threw me back, heat searing my face and wings. I backpedaled quickly as several other balloons exploded, tossing the jet to and fro.

Then the wires did to the battered, burned plane what they had done to my feathers. They sheared off the jet’s metal wings, like a hot knife through butter.

Can a plane fly without wings? Not so much.

13

FEAR GRIPPED MY HEART as the plane lurched forward, a silent, wingless coffin, the engines dropping earthward as the jet began to nosedive.

Angel pressed her scared face to a window, then was flung to the rear of the plane with the others as the fuselage started to spiral, falling faster, now practically vertical. Almost everyone I loved was trapped inside that metal tube of death.

I let myself drop close to the plane and landed on it with a thunk. I grabbed the door handle, bracing my feet against the side of the plane, but of course I couldn’t open the door from outside. In the cockpit, it looked like Jeb and Dr. Hans were shouting orders.

They had only seconds. I saw Dylan grabbing one seat after another, going hand over hand to reach the door below him.

Angel! Listen to me! I yelled inside my head. If the door opens, everything inside will be sucked out fast. Get the flock out first!

Inside the plane, Dylan lost his handhold and fell, then I saw a flash of Nudge hanging upside down, her eyes wide with terror.

Tell the others to let themselves be pulled out and away from the plane. Then Iggy and Nu