aned from the cabin as Spyder helped Shrike over the rail. Taking her hand, the pilot pulled her inside. Lulu followed.
"Primo!" Spyder yelled. "Come on!" An angelic sword slashed at Spyder. He fell back, his arm scorched, his vision blurred by the flaming sword. When he could see straight again, Spyder saw Primo, swollen to his fighting size, spikes slick with blood. He was burned and bleeding; dead angels lay all around him. An angel in Primos grip fought weakly as he strangled it. Another angel dropped down from the overhead lines, slicing off Primos right arm. The little man screamed. Spyder, Apollyons knife out, felt the blade nick a rib as he buried it in the chest of the angel whod cut Primo. The little man picked up his severed arm, then with Spyders help, they stumbled to the black flier, grabbing on as the seahorse groaned and slid toward the ocean in flames.
Spyder pushed into the fliers cramped cabin, but Primo, in his exaggerated fighting form, was too big to fit through the opening. He crouched on the wing and held onto the canopy with his good arm as the flier dropped below the battle. And kept dropping.
"Were too heavy," said the pilot.
"Theres land ahead," Primo yelled.
Through the breaking clouds, an island was spread out in the cold sea. The pilot struggled with the controls, circling toward a stretch of open beach. Spyder held onto Primo as best he could, while Lulu huddled against Shrike. The pilot yelled something, but all Spyder could hear was the white noise hiss of the wind as it shrieked into the cabin. The beach came up fast. The pilot pulled back on the wheel. They bounced once and there was a snapping sound as the wings came off, taking Primo with them. The flier nosed dow
Страницы: << < 116 | 117 | 118 | 119 | 120 > >>