Alienation Read Free Page B

exoskeleton. The burning smell was nauseating, and Colt had to fight to keep from throwing up.
    The viper wasp kicked its legs as it tumbled backward through the morning sky, screaming as its wings pounded against the wind. Viscous matter oozed from the wound, and for a moment Colt almost felt sorry for it. Almost.
    He took advantage of the diversion and dived. Sparks flew and smoke streamed as one of the engines on his jet pack died. He closed his eyes as he continued to fall, wondering if a single engine was enough to carry him. It would be so easy to give up. No more pain. No more heartache. He imagined his parents standing there, arms wide, waiting to embrace him.
    But it wasn’t his time.
    Colt looked over his shoulder, where the beast was clacking its jaws open and shut. Despite the wound, its wings fluttered so fast they were a blur, and it was gaining ground. Colt fought to maintain balance. With only one working rocket, flight was awkward. It felt like he was weighed down on one side.
    â€œNow what?” he asked.
    â€œI have an idea, but it’s going to be risky,” Oz said. “Do you remember that cartoon where the mouse tricks the cat into swallowing a stick of dynamite?”
    â€œYeah, why?”
    â€œWell, I don’t have any dynamite, but there’s a belt filled with concussion grenades in the backseat of the Jeep. Think you can get that thing to eat a couple of them?”
    â€œYou’re serious?”
    â€œIt’s all I’ve got.”
    It was an insane plan, but Colt was desperate. He dived toward the Jeep as Oz grabbed the belt. In one swift motion Oz flicked his wrist and tossed it into the air just as Colt’s second engine sputtered and cut out. He hit the ignition switch a few times, but it didn’t so much as spark, let alone turn over. Then, after another try, it sparked back to life.
    He shot straight up and grabbed the belt. Momentum took him past the confused wasp as he fastened the belt around his waist with nervous fingers. In rapid succession he fished out three concussion grenades, each activated in mere seconds.
    The viper wasp gave chase, unwilling to let its prey escape. That’s exactly what Colt was counting on. He hovered in place, waiting for the creature to get within range. Wind rushed as wings pounded, and he let the first grenade fall. It rolled off his fingers and hit the wasp in the teeth before it bounced off.
    Colt’s eyes shot wide.
    The beast howled, jaws open wide as it bore down on him. Colt looked down its throat and wondered if this was how Jonah felt before the whale swallowed him whole.
    â€œThat was part of the plan, right?” he heard Oz ask.
    Colt looked down at the two flashing grenades in his hand, and then at the viper wasp. It gave a screech, and he tossed them down its wide gullet. The cries of the beast stopped as it pulled up, looking confused.
    Moments later explosions reverberated through the desert, and the viper wasp was blown into chunks of disgusting goop. Guts splattered like gelatinous rain, covering rocks, cacti, and shrubs.
    â€œYou’re paying to wash my Jeep,” Oz said.

:: CHAPTER 5 ::
    I t had been years since anyone had called Santiago Romero by his given name. The director of CHAOS was known simply as Lobo, the Spanish word for wolf. There were many stories as to how he got the name, but one thing was certain—it fit. The man was cunning, strong, and ruthless.
    It was Tuesday morning, and he sat alone in the lobby of the Mandarin Oriental Hotel, just a few blocks away from the White House. In less than a week his son, Oz, would arrive to attend the CHAOS Military Academy just outside of Alexandria. He was excited and a bit nervous, as any father would be considering what was at stake. Oz had spent his entire life preparing to become a CHAOS agent, and this was his moment to shine.
    As the director, Lobo typically spent his days in meetings or seated at his desk, but he still