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

When he was pronounced the winner, he looked at me with those weird, expressionless eyes. I didn’t think he was a robot, like the Flyboys, but I did wonder if his emotions had been designed out of him. Of course, with a guy, how could I tell? Ha ha!

Anyway.

You might not know this about me, but I hate losing. I’m not a good sport, I’m not gracious in defeat, and I hated Omega for making me lose. I was gonna get him. I didn’t know how, I didn’t know when, but I knew I would.

“The next contest will be intelligence.” The Director looked smug.

I almost groaned. Of course I’m really sharp, really bright. But I’d had almost no schooling. What I knew I’d learned either from television or from Jeb. I knew a lot about how to fight, how to survive. I knew a bit about some places, like Egypt and Mongolia, from N

ational Geographic. But I didn’t have much book learning at all. The couple of months I’d spent at that hellhole of a school in Virginia had shown me that compared with most kids my age, I was a village idiot. Just in terms of book learning. Not about stuff that mattered.

“First question,” said the Director. The crowd turned to watch me and Omega in our duel of wits. “The castle walls are eighteen feet high, seven feet thick, and one thousand, twenty-seven feet long. One cubic yard of stone and mortar weighs one thousand, one hundred twenty pounds, or exactly half a ton. How many tons of stone and mortar are contained within the walls?”

Omega looked off into the distance, obviously starting to calculate.

“You are kidding me,” I said. “Why would I ever need to know that?”

“Like, if you had to make repairs?” Nudge guessed.

“Couldn’t I just hire a wall repair company?” I asked.

“It’s a simple calculation,” said the Director, still smug.

“Yeah? Let’s see you do it.”

Her cheeks flushed, but she stood tall. “Are you conceding?”

“I’m not conceding anything,” I said. “I’m just saying it’s completely pointless. How about I just pick a lock instead? Me and Omega. Let’s see who can do it faster.”

“Two thousand, three hundred ninety-six point three three tons,” said Omega.

“Okay, smartyboots, how about if you’re flying at eighteen thousand feet at, say, a hundred and forty miles an hour,” I said. “You’re facing a southwest wind of about seven knots. How long would it take you to fly from Philadelphia to Billings, Montana?”

Omega frowned as he started to work the math.

“Are you saying you know how to make that calculation?” the Director asked.

“I’m saying I’m smart enough to know that I’ll get there when I get there!” I almost shouted. “The questions themselves are dumb: They don’t have anything to do with being able to survive.”

“In the new world they do, Max,” said the Director. “Maybe not in your world. But your world is over.”

119

I was having a really bad day. These tests were a waste of time. I was expecting to get jolted with a lightning bolt of electricity at any moment. I was losing to a boy. Still remaining in this contest was a fight to the death.

And Fang still wasn’t here.

I knew he hadn’t had enough time to get here. There was a reasonable hope that he could be here within the next six hours or so. But he wasn’t here now, and I was reaching my breaking point.

I looked at Nudge and Angel. Nudge seemed very tense, and her fingers were curling at her sides. Angel had that scary intent expression she got right before she convinced a stranger to do something. All of a sudden, I remembered that Dr. Martinez was my real mom. Probably. I’d been lied to so many times that it was hard for me to accept anything as fact. But she might have been my real mom.

I wanted to see her. And my sister, Ella.

I needed to get out of here.

Next to Angel, one of the mutants frowned, looking confused. She blinked. I saw Angel stare at her, concentrating. Uh-oh. Then the mutant leaned to the one next to her and whispered something so softly I couldn’t hear it.

Angel looked pleased, and my stomach knotted up.