Sunwing by Kenneth Oppel Page B

of here.”
    He saw a tremor of hesitation in Chinook’s body, but then he followed Shade’s lead and, together, they dug in their claws and dragged their weight along the panel, pushing. It slid back slowly but smoothly, and on the other side was—
    Another black wall, blocking their opening. Chinook slumped.
    Shade peered at it in dismay, and then realized it was another panel, identical to the first, complete with a tiny hole for the lock. “It’s another cage,” he said.
    Faintly he could hear more bat noises around them, weary murmurings, the occasional cry for help. “I can open this one too, maybe,” said Shade. “What’s the use?” moaned a Graywing behind him.
    “It’ll just be another cage,” said a second bat, “and how are we supposed to get out of that?”
    “We’ll never get free,” whined a third.
    “It’s better than sitting here and waiting,” said Shade angrily. Once again he hopped up onto Chinook’s back and peered into the hole with sound. Stupid bats. He didn’t care what they said; he’d keep trying to get free until he died.
    It was obvious they were inside some kind of Human flying machine. And if he could get out of all these cages, maybe there was a way out of the flying machine. Into the air. Back into the world.
    The lock was slightly different from the first, but he recognized the same principal of tumbling metal. He took a deep breath, aimed, and fired sound. By the solid
clink,
he knew he’d succeeded. With Chinook he started sliding the panel back. Probably more useless bats inside, he thought with a grimace.
    They’d barely moved the panel a few inches when a huge snout lunged through the gap, knocking Shade over onto his tail. He saw the fangs and knew instantly what had happened.
    He’d just unlocked Goth’s cage.
    He leaped back to his feet and hurled himself against the panel with Chinook, pushing it back. “What is that?” Chinook choked out.
    “Meet Goth,” Shade grunted, then over his shoulder shouted to the other bats, “help us!”
    Goth’s head pushed farther through the gap, and it was all Shade and Chinook could do to keep the panel from sliding open even farther. If Goth got inside, it would all be over. It would be unimaginable.
    A few other bats managed to beat back their terror at the sight of Goth’s teeth, and added their weight behind Shade’s andChinook’s, pushing. Still, Goth held his own, his snout lashing from side to side, trying to wedge himself through. Just don’t let him get his shoulders in, Shade told himself. Once that happened, there’d be no holding him.
    Goth’s head pushed hard, and now his eyes were inside. Shade looked into one wild black eye, not an inch from his own face, and winced as the scalding breath washed over him. He almost gagged. He knew Goth was going to get inside unless he did something fast.
    He released his hold on the panel, darted forward, and sank his teeth deep into Goth’s cheek. Goth tore back his head with a roar of pain and rage, and the panel slammed against the spiked tip of his nose. Goth howled again and pulled back altogether.
    The panel slammed shut.
    “Keep holding,” Shade panted, disgustedly spitting out the taste of Goth. “I’ve got to lock it again.”
    But already Goth was hurtling his weight against the panel, making it bulge inward with each blow.
    “What was that?” one of the other bats stammered.
    “A bat, from the jungle. His name’s Goth.”
    “You know him?”
    Shade just nodded. “He eats other bats. We need some fresh help.”
    Reluctantly, five new bats came forward and braced themselves against the panel as Goth pounded on the outside, trying to lever it open once again.
    Shade had no idea if he could close the lock—opening it was one thing, but he wondered if he could even reach the right pieces with his echoes, to force them back into place.
    He threw sound into the lock, but had it crushed by Goth’sroaring on the other side. Eye to eye they peered at