Evelyn’s mom got out of the driver’s seat and came around the back of the car. That was her routine, always. Get out, circle around, open the trunk, take out the wheelchair, set it up, help Evelyn out of the back seat. Every time. The family choreography.
But this time Mrs. Lopez walked past the trunk and left it closed. She stood by the open passenger door wearing a big grin and waved.
Max, Alex, and Smriti waved back.
Now Evelyn was emerging, holding on to her mom’s hand. As she stood, she straightened out her new jacket and smoothed out her jeans.
“You can do it, honey,” her mom said softly.
Evelyn took a step forward and wobbled. Her mom slipped her arm under Evelyn’s, but she gently pushed it away.
Evelyn’s second step was even more wobbly, but it was on her own. The third and fourth steps were quicker, but that was because she was catching herself. With a deep breath, she looked at Max and grinned. With one hand she took her mom’s arm, and with the other she flashed Max a thumbs-up. “That’s four steps! Tomorrow five! Saturday a game of handball!”
Slowly, holding on to her mom, Evelyn made it all the way into the house. It was the first time Max had seen her standing in months. As Max held the door open, Evelyn blew him a kiss. He was receiving a lot of kisses lately. He liked blown kisses better than real ones, or hugs. It made him feel loved without being too disgustingly uncomfortable. “This is because of you, Max. And you, Alex!”
As they passed, Max read the logo across the back of her jacket, in spangly letters:
I BELIEVE I CAN FLY
His phone buzzed, and he ducked away to take a call. “Hi, Dad!” he said. “Guess what? Evelyn is here, and she’s walking. You should see her!”
“That’s amazing, Max,” came his dad’s voice. “Does Bitsy happen to be there?”
“She’s with you, Dad. Did you forget?”
“No! We drove here together. She had this big backpack. I told her to leave it in the car, but she was in kind of a strange mood. Did you know she’s eighteen?”
“She’s sixteen,” Max said.
“Nope, she said she was eighteen. Did you also know that she was the daughter of Spencer Niemand, from an early marriage? And not of the woman they caught at the train station?”
“She’s not Gloria Bentham’s daughter?” Max said. “Wait. She told us she was.”
“She kind of blurted all this stuff out on the drive. I don’t know why she decided to tell me instead of you. Anyway, we get to the store, and we split up to go to different aisles. And next thing I know, I’m ready to go—but she’s gone!”
“Have somebody check the restroom, Dad.”
“I did. And the parking lot. I figured maybe she got confused. Maybe she thought I’d left, and she figured she had to walk back. So she’s not there?”
“No,” Max said.
Alex peeked in from the kitchen. “What’s up? Are they on their way?”
Before Max could answer, his mom called from upstairs. “Max?”
“Yes, Mom?” Max answered.
She appeared at the top of the stairs, still too skinny in her jeans and floral blouse. “Did you open the upstairs safe?”
“What?” Max felt a prickle go up his neck.
“I thought maybe you took out the vials and the coral—”
But Max was racing up the stairs past her, still clutching his phone.
When he reached his bedroom door, he stopped.
The safe door, which he had closed last night, was hanging open. Every vial was gone. And so was the Isis hippuris.
“Max?” came his dad’s voice from the phone, sounding tinny and far away. “Max?”
Max sank to the floor. There was no defining the smell that settled over him like a suffocating blanket.
EPILOGUE
NINA Cranston didn’t love doing double shifts. The Greyhound station wasn’t exactly party central, but money was tight.
She yawned as the girl stepped up to the counter and asked for a ticket to Boston. Her sunglasses were huge, and under the floppy knit hat, Nina couldn’t even see the color of the girl’s hair. “Boston’s quite a trip, honey,” she said. “You go ahead and swipe your credit card.”
Instead, the girl slapped a wad of tens onto the counter. “I’ll pay cash.”
“Well, well, someone won the lotto, eh?” Nina said with a smile.
No reaction. None at all. Nina liked to think she could connect with people, loosen them up with a joke, a nice comment. After a sentence or two, she could usually pinpoint their accent and surprise them—You’re from Wisconsin, aren’t you? Why, how did you know, ma’am? It was her little game.
But this passenger was tough. Tight like a drum.
As she began counting, the girl looked away. “Family?” Nina said.
“What?” The girl seemed startled.
“Do you have family? In Boston?” Nina made change for the girl and printed out her ticket.
“I don’t believe that’s any of your business,” the girl replied.
As she took the ticket and walked away, Nina Cranston exhaled. Only an hour left on the shift. This would be a story to tell.
At least she got a few words out of the girl.
British, Nina thought. Definitely British.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Photo by Joseph Lerangis
PETER LERANGIS is the author of more than one hundred and seventy books, which have sold more than six million copies and been translated into thirty-three different languages. His nine New York Times bestsellers include the entire Seven Wonders series, The Colossus Rises, Lost in Babylon, The Tomb of Shadows, The Curse of the King, and The Legend of the Rift, and two books in the 39 Clues series. Peter is a Harvard graduate with a degree in biochemistry. He has run a marathon and gone rock climbing during an earthquake—though not on the same day. He lives in New York City with his wife, musician Tina deVaron, where they raised their two sons, Nick and Joe. In his spare time, he likes to eat chocolate.
Discover great authors, exclusive offers, and more at hc.com.
BOOKS BY PETER LERANGIS
MAX TILT: FIRE THE DEPTHS
THE SEVEN WONDERS SERIES
THE LOST GIRLS TRILOGY
THE DRAMA CLUB SERIES
THE SPY X SERIES
THE ABRACADABRA SERIES
THE ANTARCTICA SERIES
THE WATCHERS SERIES
39 CLUES: THE SWORD THIEF
39 CLUES: THE VIPER’S NEST
39 CLUES: VESPERS RISING
(WITH RICK RIORDAN, GORDAN KORMAN, AND JUDE WATSON)
39 CLUES: CAHILLS VS. VESPERS: THE DEAD OF NIGHT
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COPYRIGHT
MAX TILT: 80 DAYS OR DIE. Copyright © 2018 by HarperCollins Publishers. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
www.harpercollinschildrens.com
Cover art by Antonio Javier Caparo
Cover design by Andrea Vandergrift
Library of Congress Control Number: 2018941365
Digital Edition JULY 2018 ISBN: 978-0-06-244105-8
Print ISBN: 978-0-06-244103-4
1819202122CG/LSCH10987654321
FIRST EDITION
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