United We Spy (Gallagher Girls) by Ally Carter Page A

were almost to the end of the alley when we heard the explosion. The truck shook. Macey was knocked off her feet, and Bex put the pedal to the metal, laying rubber down the cobblestone alley. When we reached the street, she didn’t even slow down. We shot into traffic, tires squealing, while black smoke filled the air behind us.
    “Uh…” Terror filled Preston’s eyes. “I think my school is on fire.”
    “We know,” Macey said.
    His eyes got even wider. “ How do you know?”
    “Because we’re the ones who set it,” Macey said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world; but Preston just looked at us all in turn, taking it in. He knew the truth about the Gallagher Academy, after all. He shouldn’t have been surprised. But I guess there are some things you have to see to believe, and it was like Preston was seeing us for the very first time.
    “Oh,” he said numbly. “Okay.”
    In the front seat, Liz spun around. She had a laptop open and yelled at me, “He’s transmitting!” Then she looked at the boy and smiled. “Hi, Preston!”
    “Hi, Liz. How are you—hey—hey!”
    He stopped talking. I’m pretty sure that’s what most boys would do if Macey McHenry were ripping off their shirts.
    “Macey!” Preston gasped, but Macey didn’t slow down.
    “Take it off,” she told him. “Take it all off.”
    She had ripped the button-down shirt off his arms and was going to work on his belt.
    “No,” Preston snapped. But he didn’t protest long because, if I’m going to be honest—which is kind of the point of these reports—I was already unzipping his pants.
    Then Macey started ripping off Preston’s white T-shirt. (Yes, actual rippage .) And I was fighting with his zipper. I wasn’t exactly proud of how we handled the situation, but desperate times call for incredibly desperate measures.
    “Give me everything you have,” I told him.
    “Really, Cammie. I never knew you thought of me that way.”
    Preston’s pants were undone by that point and I ordered, “Step!”
    He did as he was told, and a moment later I had the pants in my hands.
    Preston just stood there, dumbfounded, in his boxers as I cracked open the back of the truck and hurled the pants into the street. A split second later the rest of his clothes and shoes followed.
    “Hey!” he shouted, but right then, through the open doors, I heard the roar of motorcycles. Memory came rushing back. Terror mixed with adrenaline, and I didn’t feel sorry for the mostly naked boy. Not even a little bit. I just wanted us all to get out of this alive.
    “Liz?” Macey asked, but Liz shook her head. “No go,” she said. “He’s still got a signal.”
    “What if it’s in him?” Macey asked.
    “Then we cut it out,” I said, pressing Preston to the floor of the moving truck.
    “I don’t like the sound of this!” Preston shouted, his voice way more high-pitched than any eighteen-year-old guy ever wants his voice to be, but I didn’t have time to care. I was looking at his body, examining every inch for scars.
    “Have you had any shots, Preston? Any implants in the last six months?”
    “What?” he shouted.
    “Focus,” Macey said. I thought she was going to slap him.
    “I…I had to go to the dentist!” he shouted.
    I didn’t ask for an invitation. I pried open his mouth like Grandpa Morgan trying to buy a horse.
    “Retainer,” I told Macey.
    “Give it to us, Preston,” she told him.
    “No.” He scooted farther back, pressing against the side of the truck.
    “Give it to us,” I told him. “Or I borrow Bex’s knife.”
    And that must have done it, because he handed me the slimy piece of plastic and metal. I hurled it out the back of the van.
    And we waited.
    Seconds stretched out for what seemed like hours before Liz finally gave the longest sigh I’d ever heard.
    “That does it,” she said. “He’s clean.”
    Only then did Macey and I drop to the floor of the truck. Breathing hard. Hearts pounding. I laid my head