Nevermore: The Final Maximum Ride Adventure (Maximum Ride 8)

BOOM!

I whipped around and saw that Gazzy had produced a bunch of homemade bombs—yes, from his pajamas—and started hurling them into the crowd. There were three fast explosions, and each one took out at least six Erasers. That’s my boy, I thought proudly—

—and that thought cost me, because at that moment a huge, hard fist collided with my jawbone, rattling my brain and smashing my teeth together painfully. I rose into the air, fast, moving on instinct. As I took off I spit blood down on the crowd and moved my jaw to make sure it wasn’t broken. I shook my head to clear it.

A hundred to six—by far the worst odds we’d ever faced. But I wasn’t going down easily, and neither was Fang—I’d make sure of that. I set my aching teeth and dive-bombed the mass of writhing, hairy bodies.

“Max, duck!”

I obeyed the order instantly. A bird kid streaked past me and rammed the Eraser I’d been aiming for. I had one startled second to glimpse sun-blond hair. Caribbean-blue eyes flashed at me and then turned their focus back to the battle.

“Dylan!” I half shrieked as I slammed my cupped hands over an Eraser’s ears. His eardrums burst, and he howled in agony. “What the—Are you insane?”

“Later!” he yelled back. “I’m sorry!”

So am I, I thought, and then grabbed an Eraser’s thick wrist and twisted, snapping it and stopping the Eraser before it got to Nudge. But three more were already after her. And three more were coming for me. I dodged them and did a quick spin to get my arm around one of their necks.

Suddenly I heard a loud roar: Ari had Fang in a choke hold. Fang’s wings were pinned against his body, and Ari outweighed him by about a hundred pounds.

I headed toward them but as I did a claw raked my leg, making me gasp, and then several paws grabbed my ankle and pulled me downward. My sneakers hit dirt, and then I was whaling, punching, chopping, and kicking faster and harder than I ever had before. I had to: This fight mattered more than any other fight. Fang’s life hung in the balance. It was do or die for real this time. Possibly both.

I dimly heard another battle cry and from the corner of my eye saw Dylan drop onto Ari, deflecting him away from Fang—a move that made my heart hurt.

Dylan soared upward, into the black sky, and Ari roared ferociously, following him with hatred in his eyes.

My breath caught in my throat: This would be a fight to the death. I knew it would.

65

MY IRRATIONAL DESIRE to join Dylan in combat with Ari was interrupted when a heavy hand on my shoulder made me spin, ready to attack.

Jeb quickly held up his hands.

“Don’t touch me!” I spat.

His face fell, and in that moment, a thousand different memories flickered through my brain: Jeb taking care of us when we were little. Jeb leaving us. Jeb’s face outlined by the fluorescent lights of the School. Jeb taking Angel, Jeb hurting us.

Jeb trying to kill Fang.

Harden your heart.

I put my fists up and narrowed my eyes.

“Max, please—just accept this.” I still knew that voice so well. “Fang has to die. One man sacrificed for the greater good—it’s the right thing to do, sweetie.”

Sweetie.

“Don’t—you—ever—freaking—call—me—that!” I yelled, and then I kicked Jeb, the man who’d raised me, in the chest, hard enough that I heard multiple ribs cracking.

“Ohh,” he moaned in surprise. He staggered backward, and then his face went white and he collapsed in a dead faint on the porch, his head hitting the ground with a thud.

I aImost felt bad, almost moved to help him. Almost. Then I reminded myself that he wanted Fang dead.

I turned from Jeb’s limp body and jumped right back into the fray without a second glance.

There were probably about forty Erasers left, plus Ari. We’d made huge progress, but the six of us were at our breaking point. All of us were bloodied, with black eyes, broken noses, split lips. My arms ached from punching and being punched, and the spot on my leg where the Eraser had clawed me was burning and hurting so badly that I couldn’t put weight on it. There was no way we could last much longer.

Iggy was above me, with four Erasers circling him. It looked like he might have a broken ankle, which was preventing him from kicking out at them. All he coul