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Flying was the bomb. The jungle slipped beneath Anna, brimming with the shrieks of birds, the buzz of insects. Three-fourths of Team Killbot skimmed the canopy like a hot-air balloon, the treetops brushing their feet. It wasn’t technically flying, Anna reminded herself. She, Javi, and Molly couldn’t maintain their altitude. They wafted down every thirty seconds or so, crashing softly into the web of branches before pushing off again. But even if it was only jumping—it was jumping really far. Each push took them hundreds of feet through the mists. Molly had found bungee cords in someone’s luggage, and the team was tied together so nobody drifted out of the gravity device’s range, which was about thirty feet. The three of them had learned to jump in tandem to keep from spinning like a bola, but whenever a gust of wind stirred the misty treetops, it carried them adrift. Anna wondered if there was a way to control their flight. Maybe if they made wings? Or some kind of fan, like the propellers on an airship? “Yoshi! Are you out there?” Molly cried out at the top of their next leap. Anna listened as they arced downward into the treetops. No answer, except for a stirring of the birds that sounded like rusty hinges. She had distinguished four species by sound: the rusty-hinge birds, the cranky-baby birds, the slide-whistle birds, and of course the shredder birds. Luckily, she hadn’t heard any of those since they’d attacked Javi back at camp. “Okay,” Molly called. “Looks like this tree’s yours, Javi.” “I got it.” Their next landing tree was coming right at Javi, who was in the middle of the three of them. As they descended into the canopy, he reached out and grabbed the passing treetop. Anna felt the bungee cord pull at her waist, then she swung in a slow arc past Molly coming from the other direction. Their combined momentum bent the tree, like a catapult readying to fire. It swung
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