Saving the World and Other Extreme Sports (Maximum Ride 3) - Page 82

My plans were starting to percolate as I marched with the others back into the fantasy world of mad scientists, and that plus the knowledge that Fang was on his way made me almost cheerful.

Until three Flyboys stepped in front of me, Angel, Nudge, Ari, and Total, pointing guns at us.

I groaned. “What now?”

“You come with us,” they intoned, as if one.

“Why?” I asked belligerently.

“Becuss I vant to talk to you,” said our old pal ter Borcht, stepping out from behind them. “Vun last time.”

100

We were prodded through long, winding stone corridors in the bowels of the castle, occasionally tripping on the uneven stone floor. I felt as though I’d been chilly for days and rubbed Angel’s and Nudge’s arms to help them keep warm in the dank chill.

“I hate this guy,” Ari muttered, keeping his head down.

“There’s a club,” I told him. “The Haters of ter Borcht Club. Have you gotten your badge yet?”

Finally we were pushed into a—come on, you can guess—yes: a white, sterile-looking lablike room filled with tables holding schmancy, no doubt expensive science equipment that I longed to start whacking with a baseball bat.

Once we were in, the doors slammed shut behind us, and several Flyboys stood in front of them, guns ready.

“The meeting of the Haters of ter Borcht Club will now come to order,” I murmured. Nudge swallowed a snort, and Angel projected a grin into my head. Can you do anything with him? I sent her in a directed thought.

No, came her regretful reply. I get stuff from him—awful, scary, disgusting stuff, but I can’t seem to send anything in.

Which messed up Plan A.

“So!” said ter Borcht, coming toward us. “I vass verry disappointed dat you are not dead by now!”

“Vee feel de same vay about you!” I said, crossing my arms over my chest.

His eyes narrowed. Really, sometimes I impress even me.

“But I don’t tink I vill haf to vait dat much longer,” he said. “Maybe by dinner, yah? In de meantime, some people

vant to talk to you.”

“This oughtta be good,” I whispered.

“Five bucks says they’re scientists,” Total whispered back.

“No kidding.”

The doors swung open behind us, and a team of five people walked in. They were Chinese? I wasn’t sure.

“Tsk,” said Total. “Last season’s white lab coats. So tacky.”

“How can you tell?” I asked, not bothering to lower my voice.

“This year’s has smaller pockets and wider lapels. Their coats are so...I don’t know. Revenge of the Nerds?”

The five Asian whitecoats looked confused, and ter Borcht practically had steam coming out his ears.

“Enuff!” he snapped, clapping his hands together hard. “Dey vill ask you qvestions. You vill answer. Are ve clear?”

“Clear as pea soup!” I said.

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