Angel (Maximum Ride 7)

“Oh, my gosh,” said Angel. She let the video resume.

I swallowed and tried to focus. Then I saw it: on the TV in Fang’s hotel room was a breaking news report. The headline was “The Doomsday Group: The Earth or Us?”

Fang pointed at the TV and said something I couldn’t make out. The other kids nodded.

Dylan, Angel, and I looked at one another. I felt like we were the only sane people left in a crazy, unpredictable world. Which means you should be afraid. Very, very afraid.

“What’s going on?” I wondered aloud, frustrated.

“Whatever it is, it looks like Fang wants to find out too,” said Angel.

I clenched my jaw. “Okay. Tomorrow. School.”

36

“BUT WHY ARE you going if we can’t go?” Nudge asked for th

e third time.

I covered my eyes with my hands, trying to relieve my throbbing headache. I had gotten practically no sleep last night, what with everybody acting like Pod People and then seeing Fang and his Max replacement living it up online. Plus, Total had insisted on staying at the foot of my bed, and he talked in his sleep—about his honeymoon. Frankly, TMI.

“You know why, Nudge,” I said under my breath. “I need to see what’s making the kids all Looney Tunes, get to the root of this Boom Boom Cult.” I saw Ella eyeing me from across the room. “I’m really interested in learning about their cause,” I said loudly, trying to sound sincere, which, let’s face it, is a stretch for me.

“Angel and Dylan are going,” Nudge pointed out.

“Angel can read minds,” I said under my breath again. “Might be useful for getting in. And I… need Dylan there. For support.” He gave me one of his dazzling smiles from across the room. I wolfed down a banana, ignoring the critical look on Nudge’s face.

“Nudge can come!” zombie Ella piped up. “Everyone can come. The Doomsday Group will set us free.”

“Yeah, yeah. Everything’s going to be beautiful. We get it. They’re not coming.” I turned to Nudge, lowering my voice. “Look, they got to Ella and Iggy. They could get to you too. It’s too risky if we all go.”

“But you already left us once,” Nudge whined. “Gazzy’s staring into space, all traumatized from almost letting Jeb die, and I don’t want to stay here alone. Please. I need you, Max.”

She sure knew how to rip my heart out and stomp all over it.

“I’m really sorry, kiddo,” I said, my voice softening. “I know you guys have had a rough couple of days. But you won’t be alone. My mom’s here. Jeb’s here. Gazzy’s here.”

“I’m here. What, don’t I count?” Total said, sulking.

“See, you’ve got Total too. We’ll be back soon,” I told Nudge. “Let’s jet, kids.”

Ella attended a local public school. The campus consisted of a bunch of one-story buildings painted white that were clustered around a big courtyard, with footpaths leading from one building to the next. As schools go, it wasn’t awful. I didn’t know what I expected to find, San Quentin? Considering our history with schools, that wasn’t much of a stretch for me.

For a few moments we stood in front of the school, mapping the layout in our minds. Ella and Iggy were holding hands, which would have been kind of adorable if they weren’t all dead-eyed and brainsucked. Then the front door of one of the buildings opened, and we braced ourselves.

I looked at Dylan. “I’ve got your back,” we both said together. He laughed, and I rolled my eyes. Partly at him and partly at myself for feeling all fluttery again.

Students and the occasional teacher began to stream out through the door, moving quietly into the courtyard. Every one of them was smiling and content-looking, if not grinning like a hyena. These were mainly teenagers, people. It was gross.

“Okay,” I whispered to Dylan and Angel. “Let’s spread out. Keep your wits about you, and avoid becoming zombified or whatever. Let’s do this.”

The kids gathered in groups or in pairs. I heard a lot of talk about caring for the planet and saving the world, but, come on, there had to be more to it than that.

“Hello,” one girl said to me brightly, grabbing both of my hands. These people did not grasp the concept of personal space.

“Hello,” I said, mimicking her cheery tone, which, I bet you’ve already guessed, was not superconvincing.

“I’m so glad you came to orientation!” She beamed at me.