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A white metal sign read: ABSOLUTELY NO ADMITTANCE. THIS IS A GOVERNMENT
INSTALLATION. TRESPASSERS WILL BE SHOT.
She turned to Frannie and Kit. "We're here."
Chapter 75
MAX WAS STARING back at us, her bright green eyes wide with fear.
"They're not kidding," she said. "Trespassers have been shot, believe me. You
can still go back. I think you should."
"We won't leave you," Kit said.
Pip was barking and twirling in tight circles outside the fence. Suddenly two
Dobermans came loping forward on the far side. They bared their teeth, barked
and growled.
Kit pulled me away from the fence as spit and fury flew from the mouths of the
Dobermans.
I felt the hackles rise on the back of my neck. And it wasn't just because of
the dogs. Actually, the dogs didn't bother me so much.
Chain link and concertina wire and guard dogs in the middle of the woods were
scary enough, but to see the words "U.S. Government" attached to "Trespassers
Will Be Shot" made me ill. Kit and I were close to being trespassers, and
illegal trespassing was definitely on our minds.
"Is this the School?" I asked, but Max wasn't listening. She was busy with the
Dobermans.
"Bandit, Gomer, it's me!" she called out crisply to the dogs. "Stop it.
Stop it now! Heel, you two!"
Amazingly, the growling and barking trailed off and then stopped completely.
Suspicious sniffs followed. Then happy woofing as the dogs seemed to recognize
Max.
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"Don't worry," she said to us. "They're my friends. Their bark's much worse
than their bite," she grinned.
"Can we get over this fence anywhere?" I asked Kit.
He started to answer when Max interrupted.
"Frannie!" she was pulling at my arm. "There's something wrong with Bandit and
Gomer. Something is really wrong with the dogs! Please, come look at them."
I moved closer but I didn't need to examine Bandit and Gomer to see what had
happened to them. Their black coats were dull. Their rib cages were standing
out sharply, the skin stretched taut over the bones.
"They're pretty hungry," I said to Max.
It was an understatement. The dogs were suffering from malnutrition.
Some cruel bastard was starving them.
Kit returned from a trip down the fence. "I couldn't find a break or access
point in the wire," he said. "Maybe around the other way."
"I think I can fly you both over," Max said. It was such an unexpected
statement, I nearly laughed.
"I know I can do it. I'm stronger than I look," she insisted. She was dead
serious.
"No way," Kit told her. He was right. There was no way an eightypound little
girl could lift an adult twice her weight against the pull of gravity.
"Yes, I can." Max was firm. "You don't know what you're talking about. I know
what I'm capable of."
I listened to Max and reconsidered. I wasn't figuring in the stress factor.
Stress produces adrenaline. And also, who knew what kind of strength Max
actually did have?
"Let me try you first," she said to me.
"I don't think it's a great idea, Max."
She shrugged. "Fine. Then I'll fly over by myself."
I grabbed on to the chain link. I climbed a few feet and clung there.
Then Max gripped me around my midsection with her strong legs. She was
definitely powerful. God, this was the strangest thing.
Holding me from behind, Max's wings almost could have been mine.
She flapped hard, then we took off. Suddenly we were suspended in the air.
Then we started upward.
I could feel a breeze rushing around me. It was cold up in these hills, and
getting chillier by the minute. For a moment I forgot everything, so focused
was I on the sensation of being airborne in this unusual manner.
For just the briefest instant I could imagine that I had wings myself.
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We lifted. We hovered for a second or two. And then we flew.
Not very far, but, dear God in heaven, I was definitely flying.
Chapter 76
MAX SET me DOWN inside the fenced perimeter. I stared up at the grotesque and
depressing rows of concertina wire. I gripped the fence, clawed the wire with
my fingers, and waited for my heart to slow. I glanced around and Max was
gone.
She was already back on the other side of the fence. She was straining to lift
Kit. Her legs just barely encircled him. Her breathing was a stuttering
whoosh, whoosh, whoosh. It didn't seem possible that she could get him
airborne, but I hadn't believed she could lift me either.
I had no idea what she could tolerate, even for a few seconds. Her wings were
displacing air, but she couldn't seem to budge Kit up and over.
"Max, please stop. He's too heavy for you," I called to her. "You'll hurt
yourself "
"No, he isn't too heavy. I'm superstrong. You have no idea how strong I am,
Frannie. I was made that way."
On my side of the fence, the two dogs were edging up to me. Actually, they
were a little too close for comfort. The female was cutting half circles in
the dust, wheeling and dancing her anxiety. The male had small, runny eyes and
was rooted to the ground about three feet away from me.
A warning rattled in his throat. His lips were peeled away from his gums,
showing a pristine rack of teeth.
"Oh stop," I told him. "Get a life." Dogs that showed their teeth and growled,
I could handle.
My eyes darted back to Max and Kit, where they were still balanced on the
perimeter fence. She finally pulled away, leaving him holding on to the wire,
clinging there, trying to climb over. Finally he safely dropped back down to
the ground.
"Nice try, sweetie," I called to Max. But I could see she was upset. She
didn't like to fail. Had "they" made her that way, too?
She immediately flew back over the fence and joined me. She said "stay" and
"good doggies" to the Dobermans. She was friendly but firm with them, and I
wondered if that had anything to do with her recent escape.
Then Max was moving north away from the fence, picking up speed, heading
somewhere.
I was almost jogging to keep up with her. The woods began to close around the
narrow road. As each thick clump of trees was put behind us, another came and
blocked my view.
A wall of firs opened onto a copse of birch that gave way to a grove of aspens
shimmering like a curtain of glass beads. My heart was pounding, and it
sounded louder to my ears than our footsteps. Without warning, the winding
road opened into a sunlit clearing.
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Before us sprawled a turn-of-the-century hunting lodge, or maybe a spa resort.
There were countless windows cut into the stone face. White columns stood at
the entrance. Thick vines covered the building and spilled onto the aged roof.
I looked at Max. Her pupils were the tiniest pinpoints. The irises were
translucent gray disks fixed in a stare. I remembered that birds will often
contract their pupils under duress.
"What is this?" I asked.
"It's the Central Colorado Induced Mutant Lab," she said. "The School of
Genetic Research. I live here."
Chapter 77
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