“Jeb was kind enough to hook me up to the last reactor…” The doctor swirled slowly around in his office chair, his voice trailing off. “It’s a pity you’ve killed him—how will you disable it now?”

“I guess we’ll just have to kill you,” Max snapped.

“Oh, I hope so,” Gunther-Hagen said, still smiling. “If I die, the bomb engages, and your little army goes down with me.”

87

I THOUGHT OF what Angel had said before the battle. The Remedy thinks he’s won. But he can’t see the future. I can.

We will see him fall.

There was nowhere for him to fall, though. We were already at the bottom of the earth.

“We have to get him out of here,” I told Dylan as quietly as I could. “I’ll fly him as high as I can, and you start getting people underground.”

“Max, no, let me do it. He wouldn’t blow me up.”

But I was the one who was supposed to save the world. Angel had said that all along. Everything I’d survived so far had been building to this moment. It was the last chance I was going to get.

“He’s mine,” I said, and my tone left no room for argument. “Let’s go, Hansy.”

Dr. G-H gave a philosophical shrug and got up, as if he was indulging my silly whim. Pushing him toward the door, I grabbed the collar of his white coat, balling the fabric in my fist. As I started to drag him up the eleventy million steps of the medieval staircase, Gunther-Hagen kept that supercilious grin plastered to his face.

“I guess there’s a way out after all,” he said smugly.

He didn’t set off the bomb while we climbed, nor when we went out Margaret’s door and through the dark passageways. Out on the bloodstained battlefield, the Remedy stood still when I hooked my arms around him and took off, my wings carrying us high over where Gazzy and Iggy were leading the other kids in rounding up the prisoners.

“I’ve so missed the great outdoors,” the doctor said. He closed his eyes, seeming to blissfully savor the wind on his face, despite the air, which was becoming more and more ash laden.

Now that I had him in my hands, I didn’t want him to enjoy a single second of his life. He was brilliant and could have helped humanity so much. But he’d thought the only solution was to wipe people off the earth.

“No,” I said, shaking him. “You don’t get to close your eyes, Häagen-Dazs. Look at all those people down there.” I pointed to the kids below, the ones who were helping the wounded, the ones who were carrying their dead comrades off the field. “You killed their families, their friends. You destroyed their homes, but they’re survivors. They’re free, because you failed. Look!”