Angel (Maximum Ride 7)

“Uh, yeah,” I said. “No prob. Doomsday’s been my specialty for, like, ever.”

She cocked her head, her eyes boring into mine. “Do you want to be my friend? I want to be your friend. We need you to follow the One Light. With an earth cleanse, we’ll all be free. We need you to accept the message and join us. Do you accept it?”

She blinked like a possessed doll, and I looked around. Where was Angel? And Dylan? “Let’s back up a smidge. Remind me what the message is.”

“The message is—”

“Max!” Dylan called me over.

“Hold that thought,” I wriggled out of the girl’s grasp and found Dylan talking to a tall boy with a Zac Efron smile.

“Josh, this is Max. Max, Josh is going to get us more flyers to hand out.” Dylan had the glass-eyed, cocked-head look down perfectly. With his movie-star looks, pearly white smile, and smooth face, it was seriously creepy. It almost seemed like…

I raised an eyebrow at him, and he stuck out his tongue and crossed his eyes when Josh turned away from us to grab the flyers. It was such a dorky move that I should have felt sorry for him, but it was genuinely… cute. Focus, Max! I mentally kicked myself. This was not exactly the time to get mushy.

“Here you guys go.” Josh loaded our arms with the colorful stacks of paper. “Remember, we need to make sure everyone joins,” he looked at us earnestly. “We have to save the planet.”

The gathering was starting to pulse and get louder, kids shouting stuff about beauty and freedom. All eeriness aside, what they were saying didn’t actually sound that bad. Wasn’t this what my own mission had been for years and years?

“Tell me, Josh, do you know who the flyers came from in the first place? Who’s in charge around here?” I asked.

“They came from the One Light,” he said. “You know that.”

“Oh, yeah,” I mumbled. We had to figure out this whole One Light business, ASAP.

Everyone is affected, Angel broke into my thoughts from across the square. I’m getting bombarded with thoughts, and they’re all jumbled, chaotic, violent. She looked over at me, panic in her eyes. But Max, this is big. Worse than genocide. We’re talking humanicide. Total extermination!

I looked around for my own zombies. Ella was chanting, then she pumped a fist in the air, which a bunch of kids instantly copied. I tried to get to her, but Botboy Josh grabbed my arm, hard, and stepped closer to me, flashing those crazy eyes.

“I don’t think you want to do that, Hoss,” Dylan growled, sounding like he might go grizzly on the kid. Josh’s smile never faltered, but he let go of me, and I spun around toward the mob, trying to see where Ella had gone. I was taller than many of these kids, but when I got up on tiptoe and peered around, I still couldn’t see my sister’s dark head anywhere. She’d been swallowed up.

I spotted Iggy just a few yards away, though, so I nodded at Dylan, and we made our way toward him.

“The Doomsday Group is the hope of tomorrow,” someone said, and there were shouts of agreement. Another kid said, “Save the planet!” Then somebody added, “Kill the humans.”

Something in my brain finally clicked, and then it seemed so freaking obvious. The ’noids back at the school. The delirious kid in the desert. “The Earth or Us.” And now these kids. Desert Boy was right: the end was near.

“Kill the humans,” Iggy shrieked, unfolding his giant wings.

“Oh, Ig,” I whispered. “No.”

37

“WE NEED TO get out of here, now,” Dylan said under his breath.

But the cult was already swarming around Iggy.

“He’s the new generation,” I heard someone say. “He’s the future.” It was like they wanted him to be their leader.

“Iggy! Iggy!” kids were chanting, closing in on us. They were touching his face, stroking his wings. “He’s the future.”

Some girls sobbed as if he were Robert Pattinson or something. “I want to be you,” they said, weeping, their painted-on smiles making the whole scene even weirder. “Can you sign my flyer?”

“I’ll take out my eyes,” one psycho volunteered happily. “I want to be blind like Iggy.”

“This is bad,” Angel said next to me. “Max, this is really, really bad.” I gave her a look that said, “Like, you think?!”

Normally, I follow the “no birdkid or flock relative left behind” rule. For all I knew, Ella was about to gouge out her eyes too. But I was being swept up in a crowd of insane, horrifying zombies, all chanting about saving the planet and murdering about seven billion people to do it.