"James Maxey - The Final Flight of the Blue Bee" - читать интересную книгу автора (Maxey James)

his eyes and smiled.

"You're putting me in danger so your ex-boyfriend can save me?"

"You ... or me, possibly. If there's anyone in the world who can find a way out of this for me, it's him. My
life has become a horrible trap from which I can't see any graceful escape. But the Blue Bee ... he always
escaped in the end. He came out on top no matter what. He'd said there was no problem in the world
that couldn't be solved by finding the right bad guy to sock in the jaw."

"Don't you see that you're the bad guy? If he's even still alive, if he's not in a wheelchair somewhere,
you're the bad guy he's going to sock. Don't you want to be one of the good guys?"

"I've spent forty years in prison," Stinger said, his voice hard and cold. "I was a young man with a pretty
face, half-crippled from my injuries. You can't imagine what I endured. I had plenty of time, more than
enough time, to stop feeling like a hero, and see myself for what I really am. You learn a lot of things
about yourself inside."

"You can't ... you can't let these things haunt you," said Honey.

"That's the damn point of prison, Honey!" Stinger said, waving his Sting-gun for emphasis. "The whole
system is designed to haunt you. Some folks, maybe, have it easy. Maybe they're in for a crime they
didn't commit. But you know, it's an awful, awful thing to be in for a crime you're guilty of. Because I did
kill Mr. Mental. I don't know that I could call him an innocent man, but maybe he was harmless. He was
play acting in a game he didn't understand. And so was I. I was a man-boy caught up in a fantasy I
confused with reality, playing dress-up, living like every damn day was Halloween. I had my God-given
mission to save this world from crazy guys in funny hats. What a self-righteous prick I was."

Honey blinked away tears. She could tell from the tone of Stinger's voice he would never, ever, let her
leave the top of the building alive.

Her tears made the world wavy. All the city lights were surrounded by halos. From the corner of her eye,
a shimmering, dark shape raced toward her with breathtaking speed.

Though she'd never seen it before, she knew instantly: It was the Bee-Wing. It was a kind of dark-blue
glider with a pair of silver wings buzzing at the rear. A long, silver rope hung from the glider, ending in a
bar, from which hung a big, beefy man in a navy-blue suit. He wore a domino mask and a bowler with a
golden BB affixed to it. The Bee-Wing flashed by, blowing her hair, and the masked man extended his
arm as he sliced through the air toward her. With a horrible, rib-crushing impact, his shoulder caught her
in the belly, folding her in two, draping her over him as they hurtled upward.

"Oh no you don't!" Stinger yelled.

As spots danced before her eyes, Honey could barely make out a silver lasso flashing upward, snaring
the Blue Bee's ankle. Suddenly, their upward flight jerked to a halt as the Bee-Wing ripped away. They
cut a rapid arc through space, back over the observation deck. Blue Bee grabbed her, yanking her to his
chest, curling up to shield her as they smacked onto the concrete deck at sixty miles an hour. She was
flung away on the impact, skidding across the concrete, crashing into the steel safety bars at the edge.
Dazed, she sat up, propping herself against the bars. Long bloody scrapes crisscrossed her legs and
arms, as if she'd slid across a cheese grater. Worse, her lingerie was ripped, nearly gone, and dozens of
bees covered her belly, struggling for freedom, their stingers impaled in her milky skin.