Fang (Maximum Ride 6)

“One by one, and only when I say,” Angel began, “the grown-ups will turn around and walk away without hurting us. And if you don’t do it, I’ll pull the trigger. And then what happens?”

“You’ll kill Max,” Fang said hoarsely.

“Right.” Her grip, her arm, didn’t waver. “And you grown-ups know as well as I do that Max is the prize. The only prize that really matters to your boss. You know exactly who I’m talking about. He would be very, very mad if she died and it was your fault, wouldn’t he? That would be very, very bad for you. Wouldn’t it?”

“You wouldn’t kill a member of your own flock. You’d never do it!” the guy whose neck was under my foot cried from the floor.

“Is that what you think?” Angel smiled. “Max, what do you think?”

I only needed to consider for a millisecond. “No question about it,” I said, staring her down. “She would do it.”

“Give us one good reason why we should believe that!” squawked Dylan’s captive.

“In case you guys didn’t catch last week’s episode, I’m out of the flock,” I informed them, letting my voice shake as much as possible. “Angel has no allegiance to me. She’s wanted me gone for a long time. And in case you didn’t catch all of the episodes from the past year, Angel is … unbalanced.”

“Untrustworthy,” Fang seconded.

“Unpredictable,” Jeb added.

“Dangerous,” Dylan chimed in. The other kids were, thankfully, too scared to speak up.

“Right,” Angel said slowly. “That’s just the word I would use. But I think everyone understands that now. So, Dylan, you can let your lady there go. She’s under control. Nice and easy, ma’am. Just turn around and walk away.”

As Dylan slowly loosened his grip, the woman’s eyes glazed over, and zombie-like, she headed out of the restaurant. Angel’s gaze was back on me now, strong and steady.

“Max, I think the gentleman under your foot is ready now. Bye-bye. Leave. Don’t ever come looking for us again,” she told him firmly.

Even after seeing Angel in action all these years, I was still awed by her powers as I lifted my foot and watched the man peel himself from the floor and stumble out.

“And finally, you, sir, with the gun. You’re going to leave now without hurting any of us bird kids. Go home and forget everything that just happen

ed. Okay?”

“Okay,” he said, with a bizarre expression on his face.

Then he pulled the trigger.

There was a pop, and Jeb collapsed. The rest of us gasped in horror.

“I didn’t hurt any of you bird kids,” he said emotionlessly. “Just like you said.”

Looking dazed, he dropped his gun to the floor and ran out.

66

JEB ALWAYS SAID HE’D TAKE a bullet for us. Now that he had, it significantly changed my sense of superiority over him. If he died, I would have some major soul-searching to do. Advice: Don’t wait until someone you have issues with — especially someone you’re related to — gets shot before you work it out.

Fortunately, the bullet seemed to have missed the important parts, but he’d lost a lot of blood, so there was no way we could avoid the dreaded hospital. I’d rather be in a zoo. Instead I was in a waiting room, taking out my frustrations on a vending machine that wasn’t working. I really needed some chocolate.

“Max!” I heard someone call. I felt my stomach unknot slightly.

“Mom!” I hurried to her, and we hugged. I’m not a huggy person, but her hugs were pretty much the best hugs on earth.

“Jeb’s out of surgery,” she said. “It looks like he’ll be fine.”

Fang and I led my mom to a room where the rest of the flock was under observation. The “agents” that Angel had hired had set up their private security guys outside the door — they didn’t want word of this leaking out. These kids were no longer marketable.

“Dr. Martinez!” Nudge said, managing a weak smile. Mom was good about not grimacing. Nudge’s skin looked like chocolate pudding bubbling in a pot on the stove. The rest looked like they had been dipped in a cauldron of lye. Doctors had swabbed the flock’s sores, taken blood, taken their temperatures — but hadn’t found squat.