Nevermore: The Final Maximum Ride Adventure (Maximum Ride 8) - Page 7

“Look, you’re welcome to leave at any time,” Fang said, his eyes dark and furious. “You wanted the protection of the group, and I gave you that. I totally understand if, now that you’re safe, you just want to slink away like a coward and let everyone else take the fall. I couldn’t live with myself, but that’s just me.”

“Can you all just stop for a sec?” Rachet said, pushing his oversized hoodie back and tilting his head to the side.

“I can take care of myself,” Star snapped at Fang, ignoring Ratchet. “I didn’t realize being a part of ‘Fang’s gang’ meant following you like lemmings over a cliff.”

“Fang, Star doesn’t mean that,” Kate said, trying to defuse the situation. “You know we believe in stopping these maniacs as much as you do. We’re just… we’re nervous after Paris. We’re still not used to being targets and all.”

“Yeah, it must be really tough, being away from the cushy comforts of your private-school McMansions,” Maya said icily, and Kate’s face fell.

“Don’t even—” Star started.

“You guys, shut up!” Ratchet yelled. He took in a deep, slow breath, his hypersensitive ears listening intently. “Something’s coming this way.”

Immediately Fang went on alert, jumping to his feet, putting the argument—as screwed up as it was—behind him for now. “Stow the gear in the van,” he directed. “Maya and I will scout it out from above.”

He glanced at the sky, cursing. It was maybe seven AM. They should have been on the road an hour ago.

“You guys, we’re in the middle of the desert,” Kate said. “Maybe we shouldn’t freak out yet. There are tons of wild animals around here—coyotes and big lizards and turkey buzzards—and that might be what Ratchet’s hearing. I really think we should keep talking this out, try to find some middle ground, and—”

Ratchet shook his head. “Yo. I can tell the difference between a fox or a lizard and… this thing. This mofo is big—bigger than a wolf, or even a bear. And I smell blood. Lots of it.”

6

“I SMELL BLOOOOD,” Star intoned in a deep voice an hour later. “Lots of it.”

Ratchet scowled. “Say it again, girl, and see what happens to you. Go on—say it one more time. I’m telling you, something was out there.”

“At least it wasn’t worse,” Kate said, her easy smile returning.

Fang nodded, glancing quickly in the rearview mirror. All he and Maya had found was a bunch of buzzards having a prairie-dog party.

“Yeah,” said Star solemnly, “it could’ve been a small lizard, bent on destroying us all. Or a mutant desert bat, prone to feasting on the hearts of ‘enhanced humans’. Right, Ratch?”

Holden and Kate couldn’t help giggling, and Fang was reminded of the flock. How many times had they joked with one another just like this, teasing and arguing? And here he was with a whole new gang. But the teasing felt harsher, the arguments more real. No flock in sight.

No flock, but there was Maya, next to him. She sighed unconsciously, like she felt as separate from the group as he did. It made sense. As the only two flyers, they could’ve made it to San Francisco in about forty-five minutes, but instead they had six hours of driving ahead of them.

Maya leaned her head on his shoulder. The bench seat in the front of their “borrowed” van meant she could sit really close, and she was.

Really close.

He breathed her in, ignoring the squabbling in the backseat, and an understanding seemed to pass between them. It was more than just having wings that separated them from the gang. They felt weird with the others because they felt good alone. Together.

Like he had with Max.

Just as Fang’s thoughts started to spiral, Maya straightened up and frowned, leaning forward. “Do you see that? Like a dust cloud, way ahead, on the road?”

Fang squinted and saw what she was talking about: a growing haze, blocking the road ahead of them. “Ratchet?”

Ratchet looked smug. “I thought you guys didn’t trust my senses.”

Fang sighed. After the theatrics with Star and Kate, his gang was exhausting him. “Please?”

Ratchet sighed and lowered his sunglasses, peering through the windshield. When he spoke his vo

ice was gruff, all business. “We got company. Looks like a convoy of vehicles, hogging both lanes and about to pay us a visit.”

In seconds Fang had slammed on the brakes and made a tight, fast U-turn that sent the van up on two wheels. He stomped on the gas and shot them down the road in the direction they’d just come from.

Tags: James Patterson Maximum Ride
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