Страница 32 из 43
She stared at him. There was silence again, but this time she didn't worry about how long it went on.
"Why didn't you tell me?" she said finally.
"I tried to, but every time I saw you afterward you disappeared. I got the feeling you were avoiding me."
"I didn't want things to be awkward."
"Yeah, there was nothing awkward about you hiding behind a plant when I came into the dining hall at lunch on Wednesday."
"I wasn't hiding. I was, um, breathing. You know, oxygen. From the plant. Very oxygenated, that air is."
Insert head in oven now.
"Of course. I should have thought of that."
"It's a health thing. Not many people know about it."
Leave until no longer HALF BAKED.
"No, I'm sure they-"
Miranda blurted. "Did you really mean that? About liking it when I kissed you?"
"I really did. A lot."
Her hands were shaking. She reached up and pulled him toward her.
Just as the music went off, the emergency-exit lighting went on and a ti
She and Will were pushed in different directions by the crowd surging to the door, being guided by four men in full body armor. The message kept repeating, but Miranda wasn't hearing it or Ariel West screaming that someone was going to PAY for RUINING her NIGHT or the person saying that dude, this was the sweetest way to end a prom ever, man, he was so high. She was hearing again the one-two-three cha-cha heartbeat of Deputy Reynolds, slightly muffled by body armor. This was no drill.
"It's us, isn't it?" Sibby said, rushing over to stand next to Miranda. "That's why those storm-trooper guys are here. For us."
"Yeah."
"You were right. I should have stayed hidden. This is my fault. I don't want anyone to get hurt. I'll just turn myself over to these people, and they'll have to let-"
Miranda interrupted her. "After all that? With only three hours left to go? And you, blend-it-like-butter girl? No way. It's not over. We can totally get out of this."
She tried to sound confident, but she was terrified. Just what do you think you're doing? U-Suck cha
I have no idea.
Sibby looked at her, eyes blazing with hope. "Do you mean it? You have a way out?"
Miranda swallowed, took a deep breath, and said to Sibby, "Follow me." To herself: Please don't fail.
Chapter Ten
It worked perfectly.
Almost. There were six guards blocking the exits and another four at the door, checking everyone as they left. Ten total. All in body armor and masks, explaining patiently that there had been a bomb threat and it was important to evacuate as quickly as possible. No one questioned why they were armed with the automatic weapons they kept using to push the crowd along.
No one except Dr. Trope, who went up to one of them and said, "Young man, I ask you to keep your weapons away from my students," distracting him just long enough for Miranda and Sibby to get swallowed into the middle of the crowd.
They'd navigated by the first two storm troopers, with only two left when Ariel yelled, "Dr. Trope? Dr. Trope? Look, there she is, Miranda Kiss. I told you she crashed the prom. She's right there in the middle. You have to-"
Four men with automatic weapons suddenly swiveled and waded into the mass of students. Miranda whispered, "Duck," to Sibby and the two of them bobbed beneath the surface of the crowd, crawling back into the Great Hall.
Behind her she heard Dr. Trope saying, "Where is she? Where did she go? I'm not leaving one of my pupils in there." And the storm trooper saying, "Please, sir, you need to evacuate. We'll find her. Rest assured."
Miranda decided that if she got out of this alive, she'd be a lot nicer to Dr. Trope. If.
She dragged Sibby over to Old Faithful and said, "In there. Now."
"Why can't I hide in the White House? Why does it have to be in the volcano?"
"I might need part of the White House. Please, just do it. They won't be able to make you out if they have night goggles."
"What about you? You're wearing white."
"I match the decorations."
"Wow, you're really good at this. This pla
Miranda was wondering the same thing. Wondering why as soon as she'd heard the a
"For what?"
"To get rid of some of our competition so we can get out of here."
"But I really like these-"
"Give them to me. And also a rubber bracelet."
Miranda set her trap, then held her breath as a guard approached. She heard him say into the walkie-talkie, "Southwest pillar. I've got one," and saw the ribbons stir as he used the butt of his gun to push them aside.
Heard him say, "What the-"
And fired George Washington's sugar nose at him with the slingshot she'd made out of Sibby's rubber bracelet and a fork. All her target work paid off because it hit him at exactly the right point to send him plunging forward. He went down headfirst just hard enough to be disoriented and docile while she tied his hands and feet with the ribbons from the pillar. "I'm really sorry," she said, flipping him over to gag him with a piece of di
She'd just grabbed the boots she'd used at the base of the column as a decoy when she heard another guard coming fast from her left. She threw a boot at him Frisbee style and heard a satisfying swack as he fell down, too.
Two down, eight to go.
She was apologizing to the one she'd hit with the shoe, who was out cold-it was nice to know ankle boots were good for something-when the walkie-talkie on his belt came to life. "Leon, this is the Gardener. Where are you? State your position. Copy?"
Miranda picked up the unconscious guard's walkie-talkie and said into it, "I thought your name was Caleb Reynolds, Deputy. Why the Gardener stuff? Or, as my friend likes to call you, Plant Boy."
A crackle. Then Deputy Reynolds's voice through the walkie-talkie. "Miranda? Is that you? Where are you? Miranda?"
"Right here," she whispered in his ear. She'd snuck up behind him, and now as he turned, her arm came around his neck with the heel of the boot pointed at his throat.
"What are you stabbing me with?" he asked.
"All you need to know is that it's going to cause you a lot of pain and probably a bad infection if you don't start telling me how many people there are here and what their plan is."
"There are ten in here, five more watching the exits outside. But I'm on your side."
"Really, Gardener? That's not how it looked at the house."
"You didn't give me a chance to talk to the girl."
"You're going to have to do better than that. I'm not a mix tape, you can't play me."
"Do you have any idea what she is?"
" What she is? Not really."
His heart rate sped up now. "She's a real-life flesh-and-blood prophet. The Cumean Sibyl. She's one of ten people who between them supposedly know and can control the whole future of the world."
"Wow. I thought she was just an a
"The Sibyl operates through different bodies. Or that's what they think. These people I'm working with. Wack jobs. They pretend they want to protect her, keep her prophecies from being exploited by the unscrupulous, but I think they're actually into extortion. I heard one of them say they could ransom the girl for eight figures." His heart rate slowed as he talked. "My job was to find out where she was supposed to be picked up, so they could send someone there with some trinket of hers to show we had her, and get the Overseer to pay up."