MISS HER, but… it’s kind ofnice not having Nudge around being all goody-goody,” Gazzy whispered as they quietly shut the Quonset hut door behind them.

“How can you say that? I totally miss her.” Angel breathed. “Oh—guards ahead at two o’clock. Let’s detour.”

Iggy, Gazzy, and Angel pressed themselves into the shadows as MPs carrying rifles marched by on their rounds. When the MPs were out of earshot, the three bird kids hustled across the training field to the high fence, then nimbly flew over it and headed to the beach, well below any radar.

When they’d landed on the sand, Gazzy continued. “I miss Nudge too—a lot. But you know she was always the one who’d be like, ‘We better ask Max. Maybe we shouldn’t do this. Are you sure that’s okay?’ and stuff.” Gazzy had mimicked Nudge’s voice so perfectly that the other two, for a split second, expected to see her standing right there next to them.

“Well, Nudge isn’t here,” said Iggy, kicking off his shoes. “I wish she was, annoying caution and all. But since she isn’t”—he turned and grinned—“we can try the super-duper-oxygen-scoopers!” He held up a couple of contraptions that consisted of pilfered scuba masks, a vacuum cleaner hose, the motor from a blender, and some charcoal briquettes.

Gazzy held out his hand. “Super-duper-oxygen-scooper, please,” he said solemnly. He and Iggy each donned a contraption.

“You guys should really just try breathing under water,” Angel said, her hands on her hips. “It’s really important! Just try!”

“The last time I tried, I hurled for half an hour,” Gazzy said, his voice muffled by the tube in his mouth. “Max still won’t swim in that stretch of ocean off the East Coast. Nope, for me, it’s the latest handy-dandyinventionuoso by that brilliant duo of mutant scientists: Iggy and the Gasman! Who have genius programmed right in!”

Angel rolled her eyes behind her goggles, which Gazzy could easily see in the bright moonlight. Then she jumped upward, spread her pure-white wings, and flew out over the water. Gazzy and Iggy followed her.

When they were about a quarter mile from shore, they all folded back their wings, and dove in.

Even at night, with their raptor eyesight, they could see a whole different world under water, and set off to explore.

The super-duper-oxygen-scoopers worked as planned, siphoning ocean water through some filters, separating the air out, and shunting it into the boys’ mouths. Gazzy took Iggy’s hand and touched it to his own, which was making a triumphant thumbs-up. Iggy nodded enthusiastically.

Look! Sharks!

Angel’s thought floated into Gazzy’s brain, and for a second he was jealous that his own flesh-and-blood-and-feather sister could do that and he couldn’t. But his head swiveled until he saw Iggy pointing to the left. His heart quickened as he saw the enormous hammerhead shark seeming to glide lazily through the water.

Iggy took the rebreather out of his mouth. “I can sort of see down here!” His words were bubbly and indistinct, but Gazzy and Angel could make them out. “It’s like my echolocation works superwell!” He grinned hugely, then put his rebreather back in. “Oh. Big sharks.”

Again Gazzy turned to see several more hammerheads slowly undulating through the water. He was close enough to see their weirdly dead-looking eyes, and he shivered. Meeting Angel’s glance, he signaled to her:make them go away . She nodded, looking disappointed, then fastened her gaze on the huge fish.

It took several moments, and Gazzy had no idea what she told them, but the sharks gradually drifted away. Breathing a bubbly sigh of relief, Gazzy swam toward the large coral reef. He almost wished he could live under water all the time. It was so peaceful. There were so many amazing things to see—starfish clinging to the reef, a million different kinds of fish, some of them tiny and brilliantly colored, and some of them—

“Waugh!” Gazzy shouted into his rebreather. Right next to him, about three times as big as he is, was an enormous silver fish, its body shaped like a gigantic silver dollar rimmed with bright orange red fins.

The fish looked at him. Gazzy, frozen, looked back. The fish seemed to tilt its head to one side, puzzling over Gazzy, who could hardly breathe.

Angel swam up, smiling. She reached out her hand and stroked the shiny silver side. The fish seemed to enjoy it and turned to her. Angel tickled under its chin. Gazzy could swear that it grinned. Slowly he stretched out his own hand and patted the fish’s side. It was smooth and cool, with tiny ruffled scales. It was like a big fish-dog, practically wagging its tail fin with delight.

Then two things happened: First, several sudden, searing strings brushed against Gazzy’s face and arms, causing him to shriek and almost lose the rebreather. And then Iggy shouted: “Sharks! Sharks! And they’re bloody!”

The pain on his face and arms was so intense, Gazzy felt like he might pass out. But through the bloody water, he could blearily see the hammerheads thrashing, eating something big and white.

At that moment several of the enormous predators turned and spotted Iggy, Angel, and Gazzy. They no longer looked calm and placid. They looked sharp, powerful, fast, and hungry. With jaws agape to reveal rows of razor-sharp teeth, they whipped their long tails back and forth, speeding toward the three bird kids.