When the Wind Blows - James Patterson [66]
I pointed out a unique building nicknamed “the Cash Register,” a big silvery rectangle with a rounded top. Suddenly, Max clapped her hands over her ears. Her hearing was acute. The noise was certainly a lot louder than the Jeep’s engine. It was coming over our heads, but it was already moving away.
“It’s a helicopter,” Kit said in a soft, calming voice. “It’s nothing to be afraid of, Max. See the large letters painted on the sides?”
Max nodded. “9 News—KUSA,” she read.
“KUSA is a TV station here in town. There are a couple of people in the helicopter sending television pictures back to the station. They’re good guys. They bring the rest of us news about the world, about the Denver area, anyway. Probably there was an accident tonight. Something happened for them to be out this late.”
“The helicopter looks like a big, really weird bird,” Max said. “No wonder the good guys want to fly in it. I would. I’d like to race it, too. Hey, good guys—want to race? You’d lose!”
Kit finally pulled the Jeep over to the curb so that Max could get a better look as the helicopter banked west and spun away from us. He seemed to like showing her things. I wondered if he was remembering better times with his own children. There was a gentleness, a softness in his eyes, that was touching to see.
“Sometimes they’re called ‘whirlybirds,’ ” he said.
“Whirlybirds,” Max repeated. “I knew that from the School. My teacher’s name was Mrs. Beattie. I loved her. I think they put her to sleep,” she whispered sadly.
Without asking, she threw open the front door.
“Max,” I shouted. “Max! Max!”
Too late, though. She had wriggled free. She ran a few yards down a dark city sidewalk, then took off. I could hear her wings flapping. Kit and I jumped out of the Jeep and watched her ascend higher and higher. I was afraid for a lot of reasons. Denver can have pretty wicked winds, even in the summer. Plus, somebody might see her.
“Max!” I called out again. Damn, damn, damn. She was already too far away.
Kit cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted with me. She must have heard us; her hearing was acute. She acted like she didn’t hear a thing.
We watched her fly almost straight up the side of a tall, sleek, thirty- or forty-story building. It was pretty amazing, I must admit. I wondered if she could see her own reflection in the dark glass, and what it felt like to fly around up there.
The news helicopter was out of view by the time Max began to circle the skyscraper. She was peering into offices. She soared toward another office building whose windows were lit to spell out the words “GO ROCKIES!”
She could probably see the entire city of Denver laid out beneath her. Cherry Creek forked off from the Platte River. The Elitch Gardens amusement park was off in the distance.
I hoped that no one saw her, and if they did, that they couldn’t believe their eyes. That’s what happened to me the first time.
She did a couple of acrobatic loops. Then Max flew back down toward Kit and me. She dived, pulled out of it beautifully, and landed right next to the Jeep.
“This is so great!” she said, and she was smiling, laughing out loud. “Thank you, thank you both. I’ve dreamed about doing that since I was a little girl.”
We climbed back in the Jeep.
Max wrapped her soft, feathery arms around me and she hugged me all the way home.
Chapter 69
IN HER WARM, snuggly bed at the cabin, Max was replaying the glorious night in Denver. She was having good thoughts for a change, especially about Frannie and Kit. They were so nice to her. They were like the mother and father she’d never had.
Suddenly, Max stiffened. She tilted her head to one side. They were coming. She heard them, felt them in every part of her body.
All of her senses told her it was so. They were sneaking up on the cabin right now. She wasn’t paranoid, wasn’t making this up. She wanted to scream a warning for Frannie and Kit, but she held it