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"Okay, troops, let's mobilize," I said. We were all a little punchy from lack of sleep, but I knew a couple cups of coffee would perk us right up.

"Whoa, hold it!" said a voice. It was the nice doctor, standing in the doorway, holding Gazzy's chart.

"Sorry," I said briskly. "We've got a sub to catch."

"He can't go anywhere!" The doctor looked appalled. "People stay in bed for days from a man-of-war sting!"

"We heal fast," Gazzy said modestly.

"We were hoping for a chance to study you some more," the doc admitted.

I sighed. "If I got a nickel every time I heard that… Okay, guys, let's go."

The doctor planted his feet, crossed his arms, and blocked the door to the hallway.

"I'm sorry. I can't let you leave."

"Uh-huh." I looked at Fang. In seconds he'd crossed the room, opened the casement window, and jumped out. Total jumped out after him. A nurse, passing by in the hallway, screamed and dropped an armful of files.

Gazzy was next. "Thanks for everything, doc," he said, then leaped lightly out. He dropped out of sight, but soon rose, working his wings powerfully, looking good.

Someone yelled, "There goes another one!" as I was busy hustling Iggy and Nudge out the window. Finally, it was my turn, and I hopped up to the window ledge.

"Thanks again," I said politely. "But like I said, we've got a sub to catch." Then I let myself fall out the window, watching the ground rush up from six stories below.

I spread my wings and felt the air press against them as I soared with the flock. I loved that feeling, relished that freedom. The sky was still predawn dark, the wind fresh but not cool.

Finally, it was time.

I'm coming, Mom. I'm coming to rescue you.

47

HERE ARE TWO things I hadn't thought about when I'd insisted that the navy lend us a sub for the rescue:

1) The flock and I are just about the most claustrophobic life-forms you'll ever meet; and

2) We would be trapped in a relatively small, airtight space with the Gasman.

Now I was on the dock, staring at the open hatch, with its narrow ladder leading straight down.

We'd spent a lot of time on the Wendy K., the research boat in Antarctica. So we knew that boat interiors were small and compact. But I hadn't really thought about how much more compact a submarine would be.

The U.S.S. Minnesota was a really big submarine, by sub standards, but it was still smaller than, say, Disney World. Or a wide-open beach. Or a desert. Or, hey, the entire freaking sky.

"Um, Max, you gonna go?" Nudge asked. There were two officers waiting for us. The seconds were ticking by.

I

t looked like I'd be climbing into a huge coffin.

It felt like that too.

I could not be a total wuss in front of all these people. Especially the flock.

I flicked a glance at Fang, and his face showed me that he understood what I was feeling, but he knew that I knew that I just had to suck it up and get on the dang sub.

I felt a cold sweat break out on the back of my neck. My throat was closing. My chest felt tight. I had an image of me trapped on the sub, under water, crying and clawing at the metal walls to get out. Oh, geez. I was wishing I hadn't had that third espresso.

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