Angel

71

WE’RE COMING, ANGE, I thought. Later I’d find a way to get her to tell me what they did to her.

The concrete was smooth, wet, and slimy, requiring careful foot placement. My heart was pounding, and I felt jittery with dread. At first I thought the dull roar I heard was water rushing somewhere. But as we walked, I realized it was the sound of the crowd above us. The rally was heating up.

Which meant time was running out.

“I hope these tunnels are sturdy,” Dylan whispered. “There are probably five thousand people up there. At least.”

I nodded. I couldn’t tell exactly what was happening, but the waves of sound swelled and receded as the crowd got more and more excited about the Doomsday Group’s message.

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.