Again, Dylan took my arm. He leaned down and spoke into my ear, almost inaudibly. “Up ahead. To the left. They’re behind that wall.”
I glanced into his eyes—he looked certain but cautious.
We flattened out against the wall and sidled forward, moving noiselessly, breathing very slowly, totally in sync with each other. Another five yards. Then I thought I heard Gazzy’s voice.
“Just ten,” he said.
“No,” said Angel.
“Five.”
“No.”
I shot a knowing look at Dylan but had too much experience to feel glad yet. They could be in cages. This actually could be a trap. Any number of awful things could still happen.
Slowly, I edged around the corner, listening so hard my ears hurt. The screams, chants, and clapping overhead were starting to drown out everything down here. With Dylan behind me, I sank down to my knees and eased forward so I could see.
Gazzy and Angel were alone in a huge, cavernlike room that reminded me of the subway tunnels in New York City. There was a grate of metal bars at the entrance, but it had been left open, as if someone had left in a hurry. I stood up and stepped forward.
Angel saw me first. “Max!” I saw relief on her face, but she remained quite still, and I soon saw why.
She was completely surrounded by explosives.
72
“MAX!” SAID GAZZY. “Look!” He waved his arms at piles and piles of what looked like Silly Putty. Big, huge bricks of Silly Putty. Which had wires running to them. On the wall was a digital clock with large red numbers. It was counting down.
The sewer tunnels beneath the Place de la Concorde, where thousands of people were awaiting their “new beginning,” were packed with enough C-4 to make a crater the size of Texas. France is a bit smaller than Texas.
“Thank God you’re okay, Ange,” I said, my throat tight. “Did they hurt you?”
“I’ll tell you later,” said Angel. “Time is running out. Gazzy and I came down here to check out some stuff we overheard at the DG headquarters and—”
“Max,” Gazzy broke in, practically vibrating with excitement. “Have you ever seen so many explosives?”
“No,” I said. “Not even close.”
“I guess this is the big fireworks display they were talking about,” Dylan said.
Suddenly a new voice spoke out of the darkness. “I bet you’re right.”
The four of us spun around. We assumed battle positions even as my brain realized that it was Fang, that he must have followed us, and that fighting in a room full of plastic explosives was probably not a good idea.
“Where did you come from?” I asked, rattled.
“I saw you go down,” said Fang. “I came to help.” My sense of pride flared up, then quickly faded. The days when I preferred to fight the bad guys with one wing tied behind my back were gone. The more help, the better.
“Could I maybe… just keep ten chunks?” Gazzy asked wistfully. “Small ones?”
“No,” Dylan, Fang, and I all said in unison.
“Okay, I’m seeing a lot of plastique, and it’s wired to a detonator,” I said. C-4 by itself is actually pretty stable. It needs something to ignite it before it will explode. “But what’s in these big metal tanks?”
“It’s marked VX—gaz toxique,” Angel said.
“Is that a cute French way of saying we’re surrounded by a completely lethal gaseous nerve agent?” I asked.
Angel nodded unhappily.
Perfect. A quick glance around showed almost as much poison gas as explosives. “When the C-4 detonates, the VX will be released too,” Dylan realized.
“All those people above us,” I said, the full horror slowly sinking in.
“These sewer pipes go all over,” said Gazzy. “Some of them go out into the ocean, and some go into Belgium and Germany. They’re really old, and they all seem connected. They’ll carry the poison pretty far away, and it’ll seep up through drainage grates.”
“Is there any way to dismantle the timers?” Fang asked.
“They’re complicated,” Gazzy said, “but I’ve seen them before. I wish Iggy were here.”
“We can grab him,” I said, but Fang shook his head.
“When I left him, he and Nudge were circling back with Maya to find the gang. We’ll never reach them in time.”
“What does that timer say?” I asked.
Gazzy looked. “Seven minutes.”
“Is that enough time for you to kill it?” Fang asked.
“I think so,” Gazzy said. He traced a set of colored wires from one timer to the next. “I can probably do it in about five minutes. I’ve always wanted to work on one of these.”
I was torn and looked at Fang. He understood: Gazzy could stay and try to save everyone, possibly sacrificing himself in the process… or I could order him out of here, saving my whole flock but sentencing thousands of innocent people to certain death.
It was my call. Because I was the leader.
I’m great at thinking on my feet and making snap decisions, but this—this was a big life-or-death choice. I felt stuck. And every second counted.
Dylan touched my back gently, as if to tell me that he knew it was hard, but he’d understand whichever way I went. At least, I hope that’s what he meant.
“I think Gazzy should stay,” Angel said, looking up at me. “And I’ll stay with him, to help. I’m not as good as Iggy, but I can do whatever he tells me to.”
“No, not you too,” I said.
“I’ll stay,” said Fang. “With three of us, we’ll make it work.” He turned to Gazzy. “Get going. Be fast but careful.”
“Fang is right,” said Dylan.
I realized I couldn’t fix this situation. I couldn’t make the perfect decision that would save everyone. I had to trust their instincts. And I had to do what I could.
“We need to go warn everyone in the plaza,” I said, trying to kick my brain into gear. “We need to get as many people out of there as possible.”
I didn’t say it, but we were all thinking the words just in case.
Angel nodded. “Yes. You guys get going!” She looked at me one last time. “It’ll be okay, Max. I’ll be with you always, no matter what. And Max—I believe in you. Forever.”
73
DYLAN AND I raced down the tunnel as fast as we could. I was overjoyed to see the shaft of light coming from the open manhole.
“How do we fly up through that?” Dylan asked as we skidded to a halt.
I grabbed a ladder rung set into the cement wall. “We climb!”
Once we were out, the normalcy of the street scene made what we’d encountered below seem even more surreal. Without worrying who might see us, we launched ourselves into the air and rocketed back to the stage in the middle of the Place de la Concorde.
Iggy and Nudge—no Maya in sight—were still flying, performing for the audience. Onstage, I saw an older teenage girl, talking into a headset, walking around, smiling.
“You want to be saved, don’t you?” she said.
“Yes!” the crowd roared.
“You want to be safe in the arms of the Earth Mother when the apocalypse comes, don’t you?”
“Yes!!”
“And you, your children, and your children’s children will be safe, will be saved forever, because of the choices you make today,” said the girl, turning serious. Then she smiled and walked to the other side. “And what’s the way to the future?”
“The One Light!” the crowd roared. They were practically hysterical with excitement, and I wondered if they’d been given some type of drug. I couldn’t tell. All I saw were beaming faces, fists raised in the air, people waving signs, “Kill the Humans” T-shirts.
T minus five and a half minutes. Let’s get this show on the road.