Saving the World and Other Extreme Sports (Maximum Ride 3)

“I didn’t.” His voice was calm as always, but I saw rigid tension in his frame. “I found it.”

“What?” That didn’t make sense. “Found it where?”

“Between two books in Dr. Martinez’s home office,” he said, looking at me, registering my shock. “Between a book about recombinant-DNA theory...and one on birds.”

34

Well. If sudden knowledge had a physical force, my head would have exploded right there, and chunks of my brain would have splattered some unsuspecting schmuck in a grocery store parking lot down below.

Let’s just say I was stunned, and it takes a fair amount to stun me, I promise you.

My jaw dropped open as I stared at Fang’s grim face, and only the certainty that I would start eating bugs any second made me shut it again.

I’m not the leader for nothing. I mean, I’m the oldest, but I’m the leader because I’m smart, strong, fast, and determined. I’m willing to be the leader. I’m the decision maker. And now, with typical leaderly incisiveness, I put two and six together and came up with one single question that would get right to the crucial heart of the matter.

“Whaaat?”

“I found the picture in Dr. Martinez’s home office,” Fang began again, but I waved at him to be quiet.

“You searched her office?” I had never thought to do that. Not the first time, not this time.

His face was impassive. “I needed a paper clip.”

“She had books on combining DNA?”

“And birds.”

“She’s a vet.”

“Fine, she’s a vet. But avian anatomy, plus recombinant-DNA theory, plus the picture of the Gasman...”

“Oh, God, I can’t think,” I muttered, putting my hand to my head.

Everything’s part of the big picture, Max, the Voice helpfully supplied. All you have to do is put the pieces together.

Fortune cookie crap like that didn’t do a thing for me. I mean, I could have gotten that anywhere, without having a freaking Voice in my head.

“Oh, really?” I snarled. “I just have to put the pieces together? Excellent! Thanks for the great tip! Wish you’d told me earlier, you—”

I realized I was talking out loud and shut up.

I didn’t know what to think. And Fang was the only one I could admit that to. Any of the other kids, and I would’ve made something up to cover the truth.

I shook my head. “I don’t know what the deal is. I know she’s helped me, not once but twice.”

Fang didn’t say anything, in that annoying way of his.

We were practically to the canyon where we’d left the flock. I searched the area but didn’t see any telltale sign of smoke from their fire. Which meant they were being smart for once, lying low, they were...

Fang and I dropped down into the canyon, but we already knew. We knew from two hundred feet up. I didn’t need to touch the burned-out ashes or look around for clues, though I did, of course.

It was all horribly, sickeningly clear: The flock hadn’t been here in a couple of days. The scraped canyon floor showed they’d been taken by force.

While I’d been happily stuffing my face with homemade chocolate-chip cookies, my friends had been getting captured, with all that that implied.

I dropped my head into my hand, holding up my left arm uselessly.

“Crap.”