THERE'S SOMETHING ABOUT flying that helps clear the cobwebs from my mind, puts everything into perspective, and makes me feel strong and powerful. And often I can leave annoying people behind on the ground. Always satisfying.
This day, I had left the annoying people in Jeb's airplane, trapped inside a little tin can, while I flew free, chilly air filling my lungs, about two hundred feet away from them. The plane was small, a fancy corporate jet, and everyone—the flock, my mom, Dr. Gub-Hub, the blond DNA donor, and of course Jeb—had opted to travel the easy way.
One odd thing about flying today: the cobwebs weren't clearing out of my head. Instead, my mind was clouded with misgivings as we flew low over the Arizona mountains. I had not promised to lead the Gen 77 kids. This was a look-see only. I mean, who am I? Joan of Flock? I had my hands full with my own family, my own romantic disasters complications. I couldn't help wondering if this had all been a setup—if Jeb and the Hanster had cooked up this plan to get us interested, to get us on their side. I can't help it—it's just my suspicious nature. That, and the fact that they're both lying, manipulative weasels.
Oh, I see something, Angel thought at me. (She's the only one of us who can project thoughts into other minds at will.) At two o'clock.
I looked, and when I squinted, I could see buildings with camouflage netting, in shades of tan and green and brown, over them. Which made them almost impossible to detect from the air. Unless you had super birdkid raptor vision.
Yeah, got it, I thought. Well, let's go down and see what we can find out. But way deep inside, I was thinking that maybe I would just hang back, be on my guard, not get sucked into a trap.
Then I remembered that Angel could read minds and that I couldn't actually keep some thoughts deeper inside my head than others.
Crap.
I sped up, leaving the plane behind, and concentrated
on the ground, scanning the area a good distance out. I saw no vehicles, no—
I don't know what made me look up at that moment, but I did, and suddenly, not fifty feet in front of my face, was a huge, clear—jellyfish? I was going almost three hundred miles an hour, and I plowed right into that sucker.
