Angel (Maximum Ride 7)

“Au secours!” a voice wailed.

“That means ‘help,’ ” Nudge said, looking around quickly. “Over there!”

Thirty feet away, a woman was pinned beneath a large chunk of building. I tried to lift the huge piece of rubble but couldn’t budge it. Kate, one of Fang’s gang, the girl who looked like a supermodel, hurried over.

“We need a crane or something!” I told her.

“No…” Kate bent her knees and placed her hands carefully to get a good grip on the boulder. I tried not to roll my eyes—at least she was making an effort.

In the background I heard another scream, a woman’s voice, yelling for help too, but we could only do one thing at a time.

“We really need something big—” I began, then stared as she easily shifted the enormous piece of debris. She didn’t even grunt or anything.

“Max!” Nudge yelled, then ran over.

“Help me!” I told her, and she and I carefully moved the woman out from under the rubble.

“That was amazing!” I told Kate.

“Max—” Nudge began.

Kate shrugged and blushed. “DNA splicing will do that for you,” she said.

“Yeah, no kidding.” I was still looking at her in awe.

“Max!” Nudge broke in again. “Angel’s in the hotel!”

61

“NO SHE ISN’T,” I said. “She came out with us!”

Nudge shook her head. “She’s trying to save someone—she flew up to the top floor and went inside!”

“Mon fils!” a woman cried nearby, pointing.

I gaped at Nudge, my mind reeling as she pulled me toward the hotel. Nudge pointed to the spot Gazzy was staring at: there, on the top floor of the hotel, a small boy was leaning out an open window. One window over, flames were lapping out, eating the expensive silk curtains. The boy was crying and shouting for his maman, reaching for her.

“Aidez mon fils!” the woman screamed, pointing.

“Angel!” Gazzy cried.

Maya and Fang were already up there, hovering outside the window. Angel was in the room with the boy, but he was terrified and wouldn’t listen to her. She kept gesturing to the window, but he wouldn’t budge.

“Why doesn’t she just control his mind?” Gazzy asked, watching fretfully.

“The kid might be too upset,” I said, not taking my eyes off Angel.

The little boy looked about four. I watched Angel talking to him earnestly. Then I saw flames enter the room and whoosh across the ceiling.

“Get out of there!” I shrieked.

Fang and Maya were beckoning to Angel and holding out their arms. A fire truck rounded the corner just then, sirens blaring, lights flashing.

Now the fire was very close to Angel and the boy. He was sobbing. On the street, his mother was wailing and wringing her hands. Then a billowing cloud of thick smoke rolled through the room, hiding the boy and Angel from us.

My mouth gaped in horror as I shot out my wings and started flying toward the window.