“We’re nearly there,” Fisher choked.
Lucy felt like she was going to pass out.
Milo pushed an exhausted Thingus up the stairs from behind. Lucy ran down to help, wrapping one of the creature’s wings round her shoulder. Fisher followed from a distance, his jaw set.
Laboriously, they made their way up the remaining flight of stairs, which levelled out on to a landing. At the end of the platform was a ladder leading up to an open hatch. Through the smoke, Lucy spotted a patch of sky above them. Starlight.
Milo coughed and spat. “How are we gonna get Thingus up the ladder? He’s got hooves, not hands.”
Lucy tried to lift the beast’s front while Milo grabbed his rear, but they had no strength left to lift the creature. Breathing heavily, Thingus’s head drooped.
“I’ll take it from here.” Fisher reached out to pick up the limp being.
Thingus bucked at Fisher’s approach, leaping away in terror.
“Thingus,” shouted Milo, “you’ve got wings. Use them!”
Backed against the wall, Thingus hissed fiercely at Fisher and fanned his massive wings. With one last look at Milo with his strange lizard eyes, Thingus flapped with all his might. Making a mighty leap, he tore up through the opening and soared into the air, disappearing into the twinkling night sky.
The End
Milo filled his lungs with the clean, cold orchard air. It was a welcome respite from the pungent smoke that was still pouring out of the open hatchway behind him. He, Lucy and his father had emerged outside the dense grove of trees that concealed the geodesic dome, a dozen yards away from the no-longer-so-secret lab entrance.
Thirty-odd scientists milled around, coughing and wiping their sooty faces with flimsy white jackets. Many were staring in awe at Thingus, who was circling overhead like a griffin. He cackled and cawed, somersaulting through the heavens, exalting in his freedom and his newfound ability to fly.
“We did it,” said Milo, exhaling with relief.
“Thanks to you,” said Lucy, “Thingus is having as much fun up there as a mosquito at a nude beach.” She handed her scarf to Milo.
“Thanks,” he smiled.
“We wouldn’t want Miss Sladan to catch cold, now would we?” Mr Fisher took the scarf and tossed it back to Lucy, then placed his suit jacket round his son’s shoulders.
Milo hugged his father. He began to hope that, in time, Mr Fisher would understand that Thingus wasn’t a threat. There was so much they had yet to learn about his species. Maybe Lucy was right, and the Pretenders really were harmless? Wait, where did she go?
For a moment Milo was worried she’d headed off without saying goodbye, but he caught sight of her up a nearby tree scarred with harvesting gashes.
“Where are the other Pretenders?” she called down.
Milo presumed she was referring to the magpies and the ibex who had helped Thingus escape. Huh. Good question.
A handful of scientists doled out silver-foil blankets to their underdressed colleagues. Milo hoped they had given one to those chimpanzees as well.
“There he is!” a booming voice called out.
Mr Murl ran through the muck towards Mr Fisher, carrying a black tactical jacket under his arm.
Mr Fisher gladly took the coat. “Is the team in position?” he asked.
“Yes, sir,” said Murl. “Alpha Six is ready, at your signal.”
“Good. Clear out the scientists. I don’t want civilians in the area.”
“Understood,” said Murl. “And the children?”
Fisher paused, pondering.
Surely he won’t send me away now? Not after all this.
“Leave them with me,” said Fisher, to Milo’s relief. “My son will only benefit from participating in the next phase. And as for the girl, I think it’s time we find out how much she really knows.”
Murl saluted curtly and hurried off, ordering the scientists to get to their cars and head home.
Lucy climbed down and sloshed back through the mud. “I’m glad Thingus is enjoying his wings, but it’s not safe for him to stick around.” She cleaned her filthy glasses on her shirt. “Why doesn’t he leave?”
“I think he’s just happy,” said Milo. “Aren’t you?”
Lucy grinned. “You know what we need?”
“A mint milkshake,” they both said simultaneously, then burst out laughing, the kind of laughter that happens when you’re exhausted and relieved and feeling safe at long last after a brain-meltingly stressful day. The kind of laughter that sometimes comes too early.
Out of the corner of his eye Milo saw his father raise his hand, his fingers splayed. Murl was standing to attention several yards away. What are they doing now? Fisher abruptly closed his open fingers into a fist and Murl shouted into his walkie-talkie, “Now!”
A shot rang out from somewhere unseen, loud as a cannon. Lucy flung her hands over her ears while Milo stood frozen and bewildered. Up above, a big and blobby projectile of sap hit Thingus, nearly blacking him out from view. The creature’s yowl echoed across the Big Crater Valley, his wings no longer able to keep him aloft, as he fell from an incredible height.
“What are you doing?” Milo ran to his father. “You said you’d let him go.”
“I said he’d get to the surface, and I kept my word.” Mr Fisher watched as Thingus toppled helplessly towards the far edge of the orchard.
“You’ve killed him,” Milo shrieked.
Fisher grabbed his son by the shoulders and looked him squarely in the eye. “The monster will be fine. Trust me.”
“Trust you?” Lucy shouted. “You’ve done nothing but destroy things since you came here.”
Off in the distance, Thingus hit the earth with a horrendous BOOM. A spray of mud shot into the air like a geyser, marking the place he landed. Milo felt sick rise at the back of his throat.
Fisher brusquely signalled to Mr Murl. The head henchman whistled, and twenty armed security operatives zigzagged through the orchard towards the fallen creature.
“Follow me,”
