Fang: A Maximum Ride Novel (17 page)

70

DR. HANS GUNTHER-HAGEN left his computer console and headed out to the terrace overlooking the ocean.

“Max is on the way,” he said. “I thought it would take longer for her to find this house.”

“Nah,” said Angel, dunking a strawberry into her nonalcoholic strawberry daiquiri. “They’re totally on top of the research, especially with that government computer.”

“Government computer?”

“Yeah. From the CIA or the NSA or something,” Angel said. She lay back on her patio lounger and adjusted her sunglasses. Her pure white wings were spread out to the sides, about nine feet across. The sunlight warmed the feathers, soaking in to heat the porous, light bones. It felt fantastic.

“She should be here quite soon,” said Dr. Hans. He shaded his eyes and searched the sky, as if even now he’d be able to see her tiny silhouette against the blue.

“Yeah,” said Angel, setting down her drink and closing her eyes. “I told you.”

She listened to the doctor walk away, hearing every nuance of his steps. She smiled to herself but made sure to keep it off her face. This was why Max liked being the leader, she thought. It was amazing to figure out a plan and then have it work, just watch it all start to fall into place. It was like playing chess, but with real people. And the endgame was about to start.

71

MALIBU WAS BUILT on cliffs next to the Pacific Ocean. There was a narrow strip of dark tan sand, then a thin row of houses, then the Pacific Coast Highway, then cliffs dotted with more houses. I have one word, people:
earthquake
. I mean, hello, San Andreas Fault? Those houses would be toast crumbs if the big one hit.

Dr. Gunther-Hagen’s house was overlooking the beach — I recognized it from the satellite photos Nudge had found. I held my breath and dropped down onto his terrace, hoping everyone around had their eyes glued to the hypnotic waves and the even more hypnotic all-girl beach volleyball competition taking place down on the sand.

The first thing I saw — well, after a quick sweep to check out security teams, cameras, razor wire, etc. — was Angel, lounging on a … lounger.

“Hi, Max,” she said, pushing her shades up onto her curls.

“I hope you’re wearing sunscreen,” I said. “You’re gonna have hella wrinkles by the time you’re ten.”

“Want some daiquiri?” she offered, pointing at a blender. “Is it traitor flavored?” I asked.

Angel sighed and sat up as the sliding glass doors opened. Dr. Hans Gunther-Hagen came out, dressed in a crisp white linen suit. He smiled and held out his hands to me.

“Maximum!” he said. “I’m so glad you’ve come to join us.”

“Whoa, let’s get one thing straight, Hansie,” I said, keeping a healthy distance from him. “I came here for answers. I’m not joining nobody.”

“That’s a double negative, Max,” Angel noted. If I was the one who had taught her grammar, I now regretted it.

“Max, please, sit down,” said Dr. G-H. He gestured to a patio chair. I crossed my arms over my chest and looked at him.

“What are you using Angel for?” I asked. “And what’s Fang got to do with it?”

“Max,” said Angel, “there isn’t much time left for the world as we know it. If we want to survive, we have to join Dr. Hans and work with him.”

“I’m going to take my chances surviving without him,” I told her. “Didn’t you read your Evil-Scientist Manual? I’m pretty sure this whole setup was mentioned on page seventy-eight.”

“You can’t joke about this, Max,” Angel said earnestly, and I refrained from pointing out that I just had. “You have your Voice, and I have mine. We have to listen to them.”

“I don’t know about
your
so-called Voice, Angel, but if it’s anything like mine, I can tell you this,” I said. “We can
learn
from them, if they don’t seem nuts, but we’re still supposed to be making our own decisions. Trust me on this.”

“Max, things are going to get bad very soon,” said Dr. Hans. “We’ll have to function in a world that we can barely imagine — a frightening and primitive one. But there’s still time to save yourself. You and the rest of the flock. It’s not too late.”

“Yeah, and all I have to do is divorce myself from any ethical standards whatsoever and jump onto the untrustworthy Control Freak bandwagon,” I said. “No, thanks.”

“All you
have
to do is let go of Fang,” said Dr. G-H. “Do that, and everyone else survives.”

I stared at him. “No can do, Hans. Nonnegotiable.”

“Are you saying you’d let Fang and the others
die
just because you’re being stubborn? Just because you won’t accept Dylan instead? Is he not a worthy suitor for our Maximum Ride? Tell me, Max: what’s wrong with him?”

Well. He had me there. “He’s too … clean?” I offered weakly.

Dr. Gunnie-Hunnie looked like a disappointed parent. “We worked very hard to make him just right for you, Max. You haven’t even let him get close enough to find out just how very … wonderful he could be for you.”

What was that supposed to mean?

I was quiet. Quiet some more. And all confused-like. “Well, it’s been swell. Gotta go.”

“Max, please,” said Angel. “Save yourself. Save the others. Please.”

“You have two seconds to get up and come with me,” I said to her. “But I’m leaving. If the world is about to come to an end, I want to spend my last days with my family.”

“I’m staying here,” Angel said sadly.

This was it? I was really losing her? Forever?

It was a strangely mucked-up feeling. It seemed like yesterday that I was cuddling her when she was upset during thunderstorms. It was also just days ago when she was holding a gun on me. I didn’t know who she was anymore. But I hoped that my old Angel was still inside there somewhere, and that she would break free of whatever forces had taken her over.

I swallowed and nodded.

“Max, I could keep you here by force,” said Dr. God, steel in his voice. He nodded, and suddenly four armed guards stepped out of nowhere and pointed guns at me. Angel bit her lip. Quelle surprise.

I made a face at him. “Yeah, but what’s the fun of that? Later. Enjoy the apocalypse.” Then I ran across the terrace, jumped over the edge, and threw myself off the cliff. No bullets zinged past me. My flock was waiting.

72

“ARE YOU REALLY IN DANGER?” Dylan’s voice broke into Fang’s thoughts.

Fang looked at the newest bird kid. Dylan was an inch or two taller than he was, and somewhat heavier built, though he still had the long, lean look of a human-avian hybrid — you couldn’t make bricks fly. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

“How can you stay here?” Dylan asked.

Fang stood and picked up his drink before he answered. “What do you mean?”

“If you’re in danger, then someone’s coming after you, right?” said Dylan. “And if you’re standing right next to, say, Gazzy, then Gazzy’s in danger too, right?”

“What are you getting at?”

“You’re putting everyone else in danger,” Dylan said gravely. “You’re putting
Max
in danger. Doesn’t it upset you?”

“I’m not going to discuss my feelings with you,” Fang said. “I’ve got news for you, pal. Max has been in danger pretty much every day of her life, with a few notable exceptions. She knows how to deal with danger. We all do.”

“Max isn’t indestructible,” Dylan persisted. “None of us are. If we can avoid danger, we should. We don’t need to sit and wait for it to come.”

Fang stared at him in a silence that felt less comfortable, less natural than usual.

“If I were you,” said Dylan, “I’d be doing everything I could to keep Max safe.” Some emotion crossed his face; Fang wasn’t sure what it was. “But it’s bigger than that,” Dylan continued. “Max is the key to this whole flock surviving. According to Jeb, Max is the key to the whole
world
surviving. Sure, Angel was the leader for a couple days, and she’s a strong kid. But she’s no Max. The rest of the flock needs Max — more than
you
need her.”

“I know that!” Fang was irritated now.

“Any one of us is dispensable,” Dylan said. “If I disappear, I’m not even a blip on the screen. I know that. If you disappear, Max would be bummed, the flock would have lost a great fighter, but the flock would still be here. But without Max, how long do you think the flock would hold together? Even with you leading it? Would Dr. Martinez still be looking out for you? Would the CSM still be throwing houses your way? Would you have a single freaking clue about what to do?”

Dylan’s voice had been steadily rising, and now he was focused on Fang, each word pelting him like a stone. The thing was, Fang thought, Dylan actually seemed sincere. He wasn’t putting himself first.

On the other hand, if Fang listened to him and left the flock for its own good, and for Max’s own good, it would be leaving the path wide open for Dylan to move in.

“You gotta do what you gotta do,” said Dylan, calming down. “It’s just — I can’t stand the thought of something happening to Max. I can’t stand it.” His clear turquoise eyes met Fang’s black ones. “I’m designed to feel that way.”

Fang nodded. This guy had no artifice, no subterfuge. He didn’t know enough to mask his thoughts or have secret plans or hidden motives. He was a sap, and he probably wouldn’t last long.

“I’m gonna get something to eat,” Fang said, and went inside, leaving Dylan by himself on the balcony. Fang’s mind was blazing, but no one would be able to tell it.

73

DYLAN WAS CALMLY LEANING on the balcony rail of the safe house. His eyes were locked on me as soon as I came into view, as if he’d known exactly when I was returning.

“Max!” he shouted. “Glad to see you’re okay.” He pointed to a round table on the balcony. There, beckoning me, was a plate of chocolate chip cookies and a glass of milk. “Want some? Figured you’d be hungry after the flight.”

How could he have known how much I loved chocolate chip cookies? I glowered at him. “Thanks but no thanks, Mr. Hospitality,” I said, and walked right by the cookies. An incredible smell wafted from them — they were fresh from the oven.

In the living room, everything seemed normal — Gazzy and Iggy were playing a video game, Nudge was curled up with my mom reading a fashion magazine, Jeb was surfing the web on his computer, Total and Akila were asleep on the floor in the sun. And Fang was …

“Max! Did you find Angel?” my mom asked.

“Yes.” I took a deep breath. “Angel’s decided to stay with Dr. Guntha-Munka and help him with his research. She thinks that will give her the best chance.”

“But she’s okay?”

I nodded. “As okay as a crazy little monkey can be. I mean, she seems to be staying there by choice. She wouldn’t come back with me.”

Everyone was silent. I glanced around as they digested this info. “Where’s Fang?”

“He’s in our room,” said Gazzy. “He’s going to play the winner of Crash Test Four. Which will be me.”

“I don’t think so!” said Iggy, affronted. I guess Iggy had really been progressing in his “vision lessons.”

I headed down the hall to talk to the one person who could make me feel better about the Angel situation.

I tapped on the door to their room, then opened it. The beds were empty. The door to the bathroom was open and the bathroom was empty. The window was open.

Then I saw the note. And my heart seemed to thud to a stop.

74

GIVE THIS NOTE TO MAx
was hastily scrawled on the folded piece of paper. Fang’s writing was always hasty, always scrawled. A beautiful mess. I opened it up.

Hey. Not sure what’s going on — gonna go find out. Be careful and don’t do anything stupid. Don’t come after me — you’re better on your own. See you. F.

I sat on the edge of the bed, holding the note.

Okay, so Fang had looked up
vague
in the dictionary, and this was what it had said to write. It could mean anything. So why was my heart thumping with fear?

Nudge came in. “I can’t believe Angel’s really gone,” she said. “She’ll come back; I’m sure of it.” Then she saw my face. “What’s wrong? I mean, what else?”

I handed her the note.

She read it and frowned. “He left? He’s gone too? When is he gonna be back?”

“Don’t know,” I managed to say.

Okay, if you’ve been reading about our adventures all along, you know me by now. You know that even in the face of the worst danger possible, I keep my head together and often manage a tart quip besides. It’s part of being a leader.

But this note had really thrown me. I was so freaking sick of people leaving me and leaving little notes behind. And what did he mean, I was better on my own? On my own, like,
without him?
Was he
crazy?
Who was he to make that decision?

I felt frozen except for the burning hot tears starting to leak out.

“Max?” Nudge asked, sitting next to me. Her coffeebrown eyes were wide. She was used to seeing me leap into action, and my just sitting there looking like a stunned turtle was shocking enough, but she almost never saw me cry. No one did. I was tough. I was strong. I was a rock.

Meanwhile, I sort of slid sideways on the bed, looking at a tilted world.

I felt Nudge get up, heard her run out of the room and down the hall. “Dr. Martinez! Come quick! Something’s wrong with Max!”

In a few seconds I felt my mom sit down on the bed, felt her cool hand on my burning forehead.

“Max, honey, what is it?”

Then the room was full of people talking in hushed tones. My mom was stroking my hair away from my face, and I kept wincing as her hand got caught in the tangles.

“Max?” said Nudge. “Iggy made cookies. Here. Just take a bite.”

A cookie was pressed against my lips, and I inhaled its chocolatey scent. I opened my eyes all the way, saw what was left of my flock, plus my mom, Dylan, and Jeb, all gathered around me.

“Are you okay?” Nudge looked worried.

“We read the note,” said my mom. Then she turned to the others. “Guys, could you give us a minute?” Everyone backed out, and Iggy shut the door behind them.

“You love him so much it feels like you can’t go on without him,” said my mom.

My startled gaze met her eyes. I had never admitted to anyone, even myself, how much I loved Fang. I bowed my head and gave a tiny nod. Mom took one of my hands and held it.

“You feel like you might die without him,” she said. I tried to swallow, couldn’t, and nodded again.

Her hand raised my chin a bit so I could see her clearly.

“Okay,” she said gently. “So what are you going to do about it?”