Max (Maximum Ride 5)

"In a beautiful and secluded part of Utah," Jeb said. "It's got mountains, a lake to swim in, and horses to ride."

"Ooh," said Nudge, her brown eyes wide. "I love horses! And school—" A wistful expression came over her face. "Tons of books, and other kids to talk to…"

"Nudge, it's out of the question," I said. I hated to rain on her parade, but she knew this was crazy. There was no way we could go to some school somewhere. Had she forgotten what had happened the other times we'd tried to go to school? It was like, regular usual nightmare, plus homework.

Nudge turned pleading eyes to me. "Really? It would be nice to be in one place for a while, and learn things."

"I like school," said Ella. "Even though some kids are buttheads."

"We usually have bigger problems than kids being buttheads," I said, trying to squelch my growing irritation. "Nudge, you know we have to keep on the move. Remember the suicide-sniper guy? There's no way we'd be safe."

"We can guarantee your safety," Jeb offered. "This is the real deal, kids."

"Oh, the real deal," I said, sarcasm dripping. "So

it's better than all the fake deals, huh? Guarantee our safety? Please. How can you even say that with a straight face?"

"I've checked into it," my mom said. "I have to admit, it seems like a good program. And the woman who runs it is one of my friends from college."

Well, Buddha himself could come to me in a dream and tell me it was the right thing to do, and I still would not get on board. Because when it comes right down to it, in the end, when push comes to shove, when my back's against the wall, when I can't think of another freaking cliché to throw your way, the only person I really, really, really trust, no matter what, is me.

This policy has paid off for me any number of times.

The next person I trust after me is Fang.

There really isn't a third person, not because I don't love the flock or my mom or whoever, but because Fang is the only person I know almost as well as I know myself, and he's the only person I know who is close to being as tough as I am. He will not break under torture; he will not sell me out.

So, on various levels of trust after Fang, I'd choose the rest of the flock, my mom, and Ella. Jeb didn't make the list.

"School is out," I said firmly. "Next question."

11

DO YOU WANT to know what's the closest thing to feeling the most powerful you can feel? Flying alone at night. Risky. Nothing but you and the wind. Soaring way above everything, slicing through the air like a sword. Up and up until you feel like you could grab a star and hold it to your chest like a burning, spiky thing…

Oh, the poetry of a bird kid. Remind me to collect it all into one emotional, mushy volume someday, under some fake, poetic-sounding name, like Gabrielle Charbonnet de la Something-Schmancy. (I'm not kidding. I saw that name on a backpack in France. Poor kid.)

I wheeled through the sky, racing as fast as I could, my wings moving like pistons, up and down, strong and sleek. When I felt an updraft of warmer air, I coasted, breathing in the night's thin coolness, dipping a wing to turn in huge, smooth circles as big as football fields.

Breathe in, breathe out.

Everyone was back at the house, asleep, I hoped. I'd sneak in before anyone woke up and saw I was gone and freaked out and thought I'd been kidnapped or something. But right now I needed some time. Some space. Some breathing room.

Once again, the fate of the flock was in my hands, and once again, I seemed to be the only one seeing or thinking clearly enough to know that there really wasn't even a choice here. School was never actually a real choice.

Why didn't the rest of the flock ever see that?

We're the flock. We're the last, most successful, still-living recombinant life-form that the Dr. Frankenstein wannabes at the School had created. That pretty much cemented us to one road in life, one fate: to run—forever.

Why did the rest of the flock keep pretending that we had choices? It was a waste of time. Worse, it was always up to me to be the bad guy, the one who shot down everyone's hopes and dreams. You think I liked being the heavy? I didn't.

Breathe in, breathe out.

And Fang. He usually supported me. Which I appreciated. But lately he'd been lobbying for us to find a deserted island somewhere and just kick back, eat coconuts, and chill, without anyone knowing where we were.

Sometimes that sounded really good.

But how long could that last? Sooner or later, Nudge was going to want new shoes, or Gazzy would run out of comic books, or Angel would decide she wanted to rule the world, and then where would we be?