Max

“What about the Loch Ness Monster?” Gazzy asked. He loved stuff like this.

“That’s a myth,” someone said.

“It’s never been proved or disproved,” Dr. Akana said. “Some people think Nessie is the last surviving plesiosaur. Some people think it’s a mythical creature come to life, like a phoenix. And some people think it’s always been a hoax.”

“What we’re dealing with now is not a hoax or a leftover dinosaur,” said Brigid. “It’s a real, living creature, and according to our telepath, it’s full of rage and a desire to kill.”

We all looked around for a minute until we realized that the “telepath” was Angel. Well, “telepath” sounds better than “creepy little mind-reading kid,” so I was cool with it.

“But what do you think it is, Dr. Dwyer?” asked one of the other researchers.

“I think it’s either a created life-form or a life-form that’s been affected, mutated, or enhanced,” she said, “by radiation.”

“Created life-form?” One of the researchers frowned.

“Like us,” I said. “Right? Ninety-eight percent human, two percent avian.” Might as well name the elephant – or bird kid – in the room.

“Well, yes,” Brigid said awkwardly, not looking at me. “Only not as successful. But I’m more inclined to think that it was an ordinary life-form that was irradiated and has mutated.”

“Radiation?” Nudge asked. “Like, they microwaved it?”

“Not exactly,” said Brigid. “There are many sources of radiation, both naturally occurring and man-made. I’m thinking of some of the mutations observed after Hiroshima and Chernobyl.”

“I’ve heard those names before,” I said, wondering if it had been on a TV show.

“ Hiroshima is a town in Japan,” John said. “The U.S. dropped a nuclear bomb on it near the end of World War II. The bomb killed a hundred thousand people outright, but tens of thousands more later from radiation sickness. Plus, as time went on, it became clear that lingering effects of radiation caused some human genes to mutate. This mostly showed up as birth defects, miscarriages, and cancerous tumors.”

“Fun,” I muttered.

“ Chernobyl was a nuclear power plant in the Soviet Union,” John went on. “The site of the worst nuclear-reactor accident in human history. The area around it is still contaminated with radiation, and it’s unclear whether people will be able to live anywhere near it ever again. Huge amounts of radiation were released into the atmosphere and caused genetic problems and contaminated food and milk as far away as Sweden and England. The thing is, radiation can cause unpredictable and often fatal genetic mutations in living creatures.”

“You’re saying you think there’s radiation in the ocean, and it caused these creatures to mutate into these attacking monsters?” a researcher asked.

Brigid nodded. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. Now we just have to find out where the radiation is.”

60

“I LIKE BOATS better than subs,” I said.

I looked up at the sky above us, and back at the foamy white wake we were leaving behind us. I breathed in deeply, the fresh, salty air still seeming like heaven after being on the sub. We were on the marine research station’s biggest boat, a forty-five-foot tri-hull that sliced neatly through the water.

“We’re setting up the radiation-detecting equipment right now,” said Brigid. “Fang, come see this – it’s really interesting.”

I bit my lip to keep from screaming. Fang shot me a sideways glance, then followed Brigid below deck to the equipment room.

Half an hour later we were far out into the ocean and could barely see land, even with our raptor vision. The boat’s engines stopped, but the water here was too deep for us to anchor. I couldn’t help it – I ran down the deck of the boat, then leaped off the end, into the air.

Snapping out my wings, I rose on the ocean’s thermal wind, climbing in lazy spirals toward the sun. In moments I was joined by Angel, Iggy, Gazzy, Nudge, and Total. Everyone but Fang. I tried not to think about him, his dark head bent toward Dr. Amazing’s as they murmured about ocean maps. For now I just wanted to enjoy flying.

Six months ago, we’d flown just about every day, for hours. It had been our main mode of transport. My wings had felt strong, tireless. Some days it had actually felt weird to walk. Lately it seemed like I spent a lot of time in planes, on boats and subs, in cars. But today I could fly and enjoy the sun and exercise making heat radiate off my feathers.

“This feels good,” said Iggy.

“Yeah,” Gazzy agreed.

“I never want to wear khaki again,” Nudge declared, swooping in a huge, freewheeling circle. For a while we’d lived among hawks and then with some bats. They’d taught us all kinds of maneuvers, and I always felt a burst of joy when I recognized them in the air.

These were the times when I didn’t actually feel that human, and I could let go of some of my human problems. Like my mom being kidnapped. Or Fang and Brigid. Or my come-and-go Voice. Right now I could just -

“Agh!”

Something hard and wet exploded against my shoulder, drenching my shirt. I looked back frantically, hoping I wouldn’t see a sprawling flow of blood. It seemed like… it seemed like…

I looked up to see Gazzy almost doubled in half, laughing so hard he was practically snorting. He got a grip on himself and whipped another water balloon out from under his jacket. Nudge squealed as he smacked her right in the head despite her evasive moves.

“My hair!” she shrieked, water dripping into her eyes. “You know what humidity does to it!”

Iggy cackled and pulled out his own arsenal. He and Gazzy pelted me, Nudge, and Angel over and over – I had no idea how they’d even reached that elevation carrying so much weight in water balloons. And where had they gotten the stupid balloons anyway? It wasn’t like we’d popped into a party store lately!

“Ow!” I yelled. “Stop it, you two! I’m go

We played dive-bomb and chase, tag-a-feather, and had water-balloon wars for a good long while. At one point I’d grabbed Gazzy’s leg, holding him upside down and shaking him to make his balloons fall. Nudge and Angel hovered below him, catching the ones that dropped, then humming them at Iggy and Gazzy.

Good, clean bird-kid fun was had by all. Except Fang.

Finally we swooped lower and lower, faces flushed, hair windblown, eyes bloodshot from the breeze, cheeks hurting from smiling so much and laughing so hard.

On the boat’s deck, I saw Fang waiting, standing very still. Several researchers were holding binoculars, watching us fly back toward them. When we were about sixty feet away, Angel suddenly pointed.

“Look over there!” she called. “Something big and dark, not a whale!”

I looked and saw it: a huge, uneven shape, seeming to dive down deeper into the water. In another moment it was gone.

I landed gracefully on the boat’s deck with barely a sound, like a little sparkly fairy or something. Let’s see Dr. Stupendous do that.

“We just saw something in the water,” I said, panting a little. “It went too deep for us to make it out, but there’s definitely something there, not too far away.”

“We need to go under and look for it,” Angel said firmly, climbing up on the boat rail and preparing to jump.

“Hold it!” I said. “Let’s come up with a plan before you jump in, okay?”

“I agree,” said Brigid. “We’re picking up radiation signals, but we can’t tell where they’re coming from. I’d like more time to explore that.”

“Oh,” said Angel, nodding, and I let out a breath at her apparent show of reasonableness, something that had been in short supply from her lately. “But I’m ready now,” she said, and hopped nimbly overboard, plunging quickly into the water.

I was go