School's Out- Forever (Maximum Ride 2) - Page 105

“You think you’re so great,” I hissed. She struggled underneath me, but I clamped her arms at her sides with my knees and reached for her throat.

This was going to end only one way: with me on top. I was built to survive. This was my destiny—to be able to outdo anything weaker that came before me. That was all I cared about. Max was weak because she cared about everything else—her stupid flock, their stupid parents, the way Jeb had betrayed her, everything other than what she should care about.

I chuckled aloud, thinking how pathetic she was. I was ready to squash her.

But suddenly she arched her back, snarling, throwing me off hard. On her feet again, she kicked my chin, cracking my head back with so much force I almost blacked out. Then she was straddling me, like I had done to her a moment ago. She grabbed my throat with both hands and started squeezing. With blood running from her nose, she looked murderous, unstoppable. One of her eyes was swollen shut, but she still had a choke hold on me. I grabbed her arms, trying to pull them away, but couldn’t budge her.

“Max?” I heard Gasman say again. We both ignored him. “Kind of important . . .”

Oh, my God, I thought, struggling, vaguely surprised. She’s going to win. It had never, ever occurred to me that she could. In every scenario I’d ever run through, every training exercise, I had always won. But amazingly, I was getting tunnel vision, and my world was going dark. I tried to buck her off with all my strength, but she was stronger than I was.

“There can be only one Max,” I dimly heard Jeb say. It came from a distance, floating over my head.

This . . . is . . . it, I thought hazily. This . . . is . . . the . . . end.

Suddenly the pressure around my neck released.

With a huge, sucking rush, air poured into my lungs. Light filled my eyes, and I was gasping, wheezing, gulping in air.

The old Max got off me. I coughed, my hand to my throat. I was struggling just to sit up.

“I’m stronger,” she yelled to the scientists. “Stronger than you. Because I’m not going to kill this girl for you. I won’t sink to your pathetic level.”

139

“Max,” said Jeb, sounding surprised. “There can’t be two Maxes.”

I looked down at the fake Max, who was sucking in air like a fish on the ground. I’d seen her pupils go to pinpoints, knew just how close I’d come to finishing her. But this rat was leaping out of the maze right now.

“Then you shouldn’t have made two of us,” I said coldly. “Now it’s your problem.”

“You don’t understand,” one of the scientists said. “Only one of you can fulfill your mission, your destiny.”

He sounded idiotic and pompous. Keeping my eyes on the fake Max, I circled back to where the flock was gathered, getting ready for fight or flight.

“You know,” I told the whitecoat, “it sounds like you guys didn’t really think this all the way through. You plugged us into an equation and predicted outcomes. Well, I got news for you, nimrod.” I looked up at the group of scientists, at Jeb, at Ari. I was still totally hyped up on adrenaline, my nose was still bleeding, and I felt like kicking more butt. “In this equation of yours, we’re variables. We’re going to vary.” I was practically spitting my words at them. “What you sick jerks don’t seem to get is that I’m an actual person.” I pointed to the other Max, who was on her hands and knees, trying to get up. “She’s real too. She’s a person. All of us are! And I’m done jumping through your hoops. You can tell yourselves that you’re doing all this to save the world, but really you’re just a bunch of psycho puppet-masters who probably didn’t date enough in high school.”

I stalked around, really worked up. Sweat ran down my forehead and stung my cheek where it was split.

Out of nowhere, an alarm sounded. Next we heard shouting and thundering footsteps.

Jeb and the other whitecoats looked at one another. I couldn’t piece everything together right now. Were they part of Itex or not?

“Max?” said the Gasman again.

“We’ve got to get out of here,” I said urgently, looking for a possible escape route. Then I remembered: We were underground. Oh, jeez. Now things were going to get sticky.

Jeb and the other whitecoats edged closer to the Erasers. The fake Max looked lost, uncertain whose side to be on. I almost felt sorry for her.

“Max, really—”

“What?” I snapped, wheeling to look at Gazzy. “We’re up the creek, if you haven’t noticed! What’s so important?”

His big blue eyes, so like Angel’s, looked at me earnestly. “Duck.”

140

Within a millisecond, I had dropped to the floor. I rolled under a counter and covered my head with my hands. When some eight-year-olds said “duck,” you might be facing a stream from a water pistol. When Gazzy said “duck,” you prepared for all hell to break loose, and really freaking fast, man.

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