Fang: A Maximum Ride Novel (19 page)

82

THE FIGHT UNFOLDED like background noise. White noise. In the foreground, even with his ghastly pale face looking dead in my hands, my fingers clenching his ragged hair, all I could see was random images of Fang,
not dead
.

Fang telling me stupid fart jokes from the dog crate next to mine at the School, trying to make me laugh.

Fang asleep at Jeb’s old house, and me jumping wildly on his bed to wake him up. Him pretending to be asleep. Me laughing when I “accidentally” kicked him where it counts. Him dumping me off the bed.

Fang gagging on my first attempt at cooking dinner after Jeb disappeared. Him spitting out the mac and cheese. Me dumping the rest of the bowl on him in response.

Fang on the beach, that first time he was badly injured. Me realizing how I felt about him.

Fang kissing me. So close I couldn’t even see his dark eyes anymore. The first time. The second time. The third.

I could remember each and every one of them. Would always remember them.

Fang.

Not.

Dead.

83

THEN A COUPLE of my nerves started firing again, and my muscles unfroze.

“Fang! Come back!” I started pulling his hair. Shaking his head and shoulders. Hard. “Wake up! Snap out of it! You stupid jerk! I am going to kill you if you die on me!”

I put my mouth up to his ear. “Did you
hear me?
” I was yelling right into it. “Dying is
not
on the agenda! Not part of my plan!”

That wasn’t working. I pounded on his chest. “Get
up!
After everything we’ve been through, are you going to give up now? Are you that much of a wuss? We need you, you butthead!
I
need you. I — I
love
you, Fang.”

I was choking on dry sobs now. “Did you
hear
that?

Why I didn’t I tell you before? You can’t die before I tell you that. You
can’t!
”

Gulping, I looked around wildly, as if I would see something marked “Second chances. use sparingly.” All I saw were a bunch of unconscious guards, bloody bird kids, and a lizard boy.

And a large hypodermic needle, on the stand holding medical equipment next to Fang’s bed. The tube was marked “Adrenaline. Dangerous.”

I reached for it. I had seen this movie once —

“I tried that!” said Dr. Disaster, who was tightly in Dylan’s grip. “Don’t you think I tried that? I shot it into his IV! It did nothing!”

In a split second I grabbed the hypo, whirled, and sank the needle deep into Fang’s chest, directly into his heart. I pressed the plunger home, emptying its entire contents. If he had any chance at all, this was it. And if it wouldn’t save his life, then it would surely end it once and for all, right now.

Being a leader means you have to make life-or-death decisions sometimes. And I made this one.

84

TIME BECAME ELASTIC, stretching out endlessly. Each second seemed to take hours. Everyone was moving in slow motion, all blurry, all dreamy. I couldn’t understand what they were saying. I got an impression of Iggy and Gazzy holding Robert down, trying to pull off his new head, without success. I saw Nudge and Angel hugging. Angel was crying.

One by one they turned to look at me and Fang, concern and pain on their faces.

I looked down at Fang, at that smooth, tan place on his neck where his pulse should have been beating. I squeezed his cold hand hard, willing him to squeeze back. I dropped my head to his chest and closed my eyes so I wouldn’t have to see the machine flatlining in front of me.

Fang, come on,
I thought.
You promised you would never leave me. You promised.
I gulped again, hearing nothing, feeling nothing under my ear.
This can’t be, can’t be, can’t be… . Oh, God, help me, help me… .

My mind was starting to completely shut down in order not to feel this pain, when I heard a
beep
.

Then another
beep
.

Then I felt Fang’s chest rise as he gasped in a breath, and I felt his heart beat, right under my cheek.

I bolted upright, staring at his face. His mouth opened. His good eye widened. I grabbed his hand in both of mine and clasped it hard against my chest. I couldn’t say anything, could only stare at that poor, battered face I loved so much.

Fang blinked hazily and breathed in again. His gaze fell on me, and I must have looked wild with panic and misery.

“Fang?” I gasped.

He blinked, tried to swallow. “ ‘Ssup?” he said groggily.

I’m pretty much of the stoical school of emotiveness, but everything I was feeling burst through me like a flood through a dam. I dropped my head back onto his chest, my arms around him, and sobbed.

85

“LET ME GO! I
command
you!” I heard Dr. Gunther-Hagen shout. “Have you lost your mind? Have you forgotten who I am?” I looked around and saw Dylan, flecked with blood and sporting a black eye, grasping the doctor from behind. He was staring at the doctor with fury, even hatred.

“I think you’ve forgotten who
I
am,” Dylan countered. “That is, not a robot. Someone with a mind of his own.”

“But you — you owe me your
life!
” Dr. G-H stammered.

“I’m not sure I want this life,” Dylan said sadly. And he looked at me and Fang.

The doctor’s eyes got even wider as he became fully aware of Fang’s regained consciousness. “This doesn’t make sense!”

“
You
don’t make sense!” I bit out through my tears. “We’re not just test subjects! We’re not just for experimenting! You people never learn!”

“I see it all clearly now,” Dylan said in an oddly flat, quiet voice. “I see what you are. I see what you made me. And I see what I’ll become.” He looked over at another gurney a few yards away from him. “Iggy, can you help me with this? Grab his legs.”

Iggy and Dylan lifted the struggling doctor onto the gurney. “Gazzy, Nudge, Angel, you too. We need help strapping him down.”

I was dumbfounded as I watched my flock restrain this evil genius on a gurney. As had been done to us so many times in our lives.

But the next thing surprised me even more.

Dylan picked up another fully loaded giant hypo from the tray next to Fang’s bed. “This should do nicely.” He readied the needle like a trained nurse. It was obvious that he’d been raised on injections.

Dr. Gunther-Hagen craned his head to look around at his lab, now destroyed; his guards, now useless; his subject Fang, now saved. And his master creation, Dylan, who looked as though he wanted to kill him.

“That’s what I call giving someone a taste of their own medicine,” Gazzy whispered.

“You don’t know what you’re doing, Dylan,” the doctor said.

“Let’s pin his arm down, please,” Dylan directed quietly, and placed the tip of the needle on the vein. He was like a beautiful, powerful avenging angel.

And yet — he was … scary.

Nudge bit her lip. Angel looked confused. Iggy didn’t look anything.

I suddenly had a flash of myself saying something — it seemed like years ago.
Someday we might have only a few seconds to figure out the meaning of life.

“Oh, God, Dylan — don’t,” I found myself pleading. “It’s just — enough. Enough already.”

Dylan stopped. Just like that. “Okay, Max.”

He looked at me, then at Fang, then at the doctor.

Then he plunged the needle into his own arm.

EPILOGUE

AFTER EVERYTHING, we’ve come to this,
I thought.

I felt weird in my fancy dress, but even I had to admit it was gorgeous. Someone had come to the house this morning and fixed all of our hair — Angel’s golden halo of curls had never looked so perfect. Or so clean. Nudge looked even more like a teen model than usual, with her long, honey-streaked brown ringlets falling in perfect array around her shoulders. They were wearing matching dresses of russet silk. I glanced down at my cream-colored one, praying that I didn’t get dirt or blood on it before this was all over.

We carried flowers, bouquets of wildflowers that we’d picked this morning among the beautiful Colorado hills.

Nudge came up and stood next to me in the tent, peeking out through the door slit. It was a stunning afternoon, and in front of us, under a natural arch of trees, was a long red carpet with white chairs arranged on either side. Nudge smiled up at me.

“You’ve never looked more beautiful,” she said, and I gave a nervous grin. My hair was pulled back away from my face, and I had a little crown of flowers woven into it. I too was exceedingly clean.

Our various bruises and scrapes had healed completely, and Fang’s injuries were only a bad memory — as was Dylan’s pseudo suicide attempt. He’d suffered no ill consequences of the injection thus far. Plus, we hadn’t seen Dr. Gunther-Hagen again. We’d rolled him kicking and screaming into a giant lab cold-storage room before splitting that day, but I was sure one of his posse would revive and let the doc out of his icebox before he turned into a Popsicle.

“Is that the justice of the peace?” Nudge whispered.

“Yeah. She’s a friend of my mom’s.” I saw my mom and my half sister, Ella, sitting in the second row, looking back to see us. Jeb and Dylan were in the next row, and a bunch of our friends from CSM. Dylan had really surprised me, down in Dr. G-H’s lair. I was gonna keep an eye on him.

“There’s the music,” said Angel.

“Okay, you’re up,” I said. The two of us really hadn’t hashed things out. I knew we’d have to, if the flock was going to survive. But not today.

Angel slipped through the tent door. Everyone oohed and aahed at how pretty she was. She walked slowly down the red carpet, strewing white rose petals everywhere. Deceptively innocent, I thought. But at the same time it was comforting to see her looking so much like my old Angel. Even though we hadn’t fully made amends for all that had happened between us, I decided to suck it up and enjoy the rush of everything that was happening today.

“Your turn,” I told Nudge. She gave me one last smile, then headed down the red carpet slowly, walking in time to the music. I peered out and saw Gazzy step forward, right in front of the justice of the peace. He took Angel’s arm and they walked a few paces, then separated and stood on either side of the decorated podium.

I waited until Nudge was halfway down the aisle, then I left the tent, hoping I didn’t throw up from tension. Everyone’s heads turned toward me, and I heard excited whispers ripple through the small crowd. I tried to smile, but I was so nervous I could manage only a sickly grin. Ahead of me, Iggy stepped out unerringly and took Nudge’s arm. They walked a few paces, then separated, like Angel and Gazzy.

Then I could see Fang. His dark eyes seemed to burn as they locked on me. I tried to swallow and couldn’t. I was holding my bouquet so tightly I was about to snap all the stems. Everyone else faded away, and I had eyes only for Fang. His black hair had been cut, somewhat. He wore a midnight-blue suit and an actual tie that he’d probably already figured out fifteen ways to kill someone with.

It seemed to take forever, but I finally made it up to Fang without tripping on my impractical fancy shoes. He held out his arm and I took it, staring into his eyes. We walked up to the justice of the peace … and separated, each standing on our own side.

Then everyone really craned their heads around to see Akila stepping lightly from the tent. A wreath of flowers like mine rested between her pointed ears, with lisianthus picking up the blue of her intelligent eyes.

She walked majestically down the aisle, just as my mom had practiced with her.

As she stopped in front of the justice of the peace, Total stepped over to join her. He was wearing a russet-colored bow tie, and his black fur shone. Even his black wings, which he held out proudly, looked perfectly groomed.

Total grinned at me, and I smiled back at him. It didn’t matter that he was shorter than Akila, that she outweighed him by sixty pounds. It didn’t matter that he was a mutant, and she was 100 percent glorious purebred. The way they looked at each other would have brought a tear to my eye, if I were susceptible to that kind of thing.

Total knew how difficult their future would be. He could fly on his own — he was as capable as we were of jumping up and going somewhere at a moment’s notice. Akila was stuck with more traditional means of travel. Total could talk to us, express his wants and needs (lord, could he), whereas he had to interpret Akila for us.

But they had decided to stick together, despite the odds. Total had fastened on to Akila as being the perfect match for him the moment he had first seen her. He hadn’t given up. And now they were declaring their vows in front of everyone they cared about.

My mind wandered as the justice of the peace began the ceremony. I heard Total say, “I do,” in a voice quavering with emotion. Next to him, Akila nodded that she did too.

I couldn’t help looking over at Fang, unbearably handsome, the afternoon sun turning his skin to a warm gold. He was already looking at me, and I shivered at the expression on his face. In his eyes I saw the promise of
our
future together. A future full of danger, excitement, persecution, thrilling victories, and lessons learned — some easy, some hard.

And every bit of it would be okay. Because we would be together.

THE OTHER EPILOGUE

AS IT TURNED OUT, that assumption was wrong.

After the reception, which was pretty much the funnest party I’d ever been to, especially since I didn’t have to put it together or clean up afterward, we headed back to our current safe house. Fang had gone back about an hour before but had insisted I stay and eat cake and party down with my funky self.

So I did, in my fancy dress and fancy shoes and fancy hair, and I couldn’t help marveling at the fact that it wasn’t all that long ago that we were sleeping in subway tunnels in New York, and it probably wouldn’t be all that long before some similar change in our circumstances took place.

But tonight was fabulous, and I was surrounded by my favorite people, and I kept thinking of funny things to tell Fang, like how Total looked with white frosting all over his face.

So Nudge and I flew back, followed by Angel, Gazzy, and Iggy. I was thankful that I could usually wear jeans or sweats. Flying in a dress is not a picnic. Talk about vulnerable.

We landed lightly on our back deck. Inside, a few lights were on. I kicked off my fashionable, uncomfortable shoes and went to find Fang. I’d brought him a piece of cake, and though it was a teensy bit squooshed, I was sure it’d taste okay.

I headed down the hall and tapped on the closed door of the boys’ room. No answer. Had he already fallen asleep?

I opened the door a bit and peered in. It was dark. “Fang?”

I flicked on the light. The room was empty; his bed was still made. The bathroom was next door, and it too was dark and empty.

“Fang?” I called louder. “We’re home!”

I headed out to ask the others if they’d seen him, and that was when I saw the note.

It was propped on the dresser, by the door — a white envelope with my name written on it in Fang’s spiky handwriting.

My heart dropped somewhere around my stomach, and my skin went cold, as if I’d stepped into a freezer. Slowly I reached out and picked up the envelope. I opened the flap and pulled out a sheet of paper.

“Max? What are you doing? We’re gonna take a couple more photos,” said Nudge, swinging around the door. “Since we probably won’t all be clean at the same time ever again.”

I swallowed. “Is Fang out there with you guys?”

“No — he’s not in here?”

“No. I found this.” I showed her the note, and her eyes went wide.

“What is it?” Her voice was hushed and solemn.

Breathing shallowly, I unfolded the paper. I didn’t want to read it — like, if I didn’t read it, it would make it not be true.

But I was not a coward. Even about this. So I started reading aloud.

Dear Max —
You looked so beautiful today. I’m going to remember what you looked like forever.

Nudge put her hand over her mouth.

And I hope you remember me the same way — clean, ha-ha. I’m glad our last time together was happy.

But I’m leaving tonight, leaving the flock, and this time it’s for good. I don’t know if I’ll ever see any of you again. The thing is, Max, that everyone is a little bit right. Added up all together, it makes this one big right.

Dylan’s a little bit right about how my being here might be putting the rest of you in danger. The threat might have been just about Dr. Hans, but we don’t know
that for sure. Angel is a little bit right about how splitting up the flock will help all of us survive. And the rest of the flock is a little bit right about how when you and I are together, we’re focused on each other — we can’t help it.

The thing is, Maximum, I love you. I can’t help but be focused on you when we’re together. If you’re in the room, I want to be next to you. If you’re gone, I think about you. You’re who I want to talk to. In a fight, I want you at my back. When we’re together, the sun is shining. When we’re apart, everything is in shades of gray.

I hope you’ll forgive me someday for turning our worlds into shades of gray — at least for a while.

I stopped for a moment, trying to breathe. The others had trickled down the hall to see what we were doing, and they were all crowded around Nudge, their faces shocked.

You’re not at your best when you’re focused on me. I mean, you’re at your best Maxness, but not your best leaderness. I mostly need Maxness. The flock mostly needs leaderness. And Angel, if you’re listening to this, it ain’t you, sweetie. Not yet.

I glanced at Angel, and her cheeks flushed.

At least for a couple more years, the flock needs a leader to survive, no matter how capable everyone thinks he or she is. The truth is that they do need a
leader, and the truth is that you are the best leader. It’s one of the things I love about you.

But the more I thought about it, the more sure I got that this is the right thing to do. Maybe not for you, or for me, but for all of us together, our flock.

Please don’t try to find me. This is the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life, besides wearing that suit today, and seeing you again will only make it harder. You’d ask me to come back, and I would, because I can’t say no to you. But all the same problems would still be there, and I’d end up leaving again, and then we’d have to go through this all over again.

Please make us only go through this once.

My throat was closing up, my voice becoming raspy. I could think of
lots
of times he’d told me no. Nudge edged her hand into the crook of my arm, holding on as if we both needed support.

I love you. I love your smile, your snarl, your grin, your face when you’re sleeping. I love your hair streaming out behind you as we fly, with the sunlight making it shine, if it doesn’t have too much mud or blood in it. I love seeing your wings spreading out, white and brown and tan and speckled, and the tiny, downy feathers right at the top of your shoulders. I love your eyes, whether they’re cold or calculating or suspicious or laughing or warm, like when you look at me.

I started crying, like a big doofus. I couldn’t believe this. I wiped my tears away with the sleeve of my fancy dress.

You’re the best warrior I know, the best leader. You’re the most comforting mom we’ve ever had. You’re the biggest goof ball, the worst driver, and a truly lousy cook. You’ve kept us safe and provided for us, in good times and bad. You’re my best friend, my first and only love, and the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen, with wings or without.

Now everyone was crying, even Iggy. We were all sniffing and wiping our faces, and I knew I was right: Reading this out loud meant it had really happened, was really happening. To all of us, not just to me.

Tell you what, sweetie: If in twenty years we haven’t expired yet, and the world is still more or less in one piece, I’ll meet you at the top of that cliff where we first met the hawks and learned to fly with them. You know the one. Twenty years from today, if I’m alive, I’ll be there, waiting for you. You can bet on it.

Good-bye, my love
.

Fang

P.S. Tell everyone I sure will miss them.

We were all silent. The letter was wet with my tears, making some of the words run. Fang was usually, well, reserved is a nice word for it. But this letter had poured out a lifetime’s worth of love. I felt numb, like someone had just whapped my head hard.

“I can’t believe it,” said Gazzy. “That butthead,” said Iggy.

“This is my fault,” said Angel, her shoulders hunching with sobs.

“No,” I told her. “You’ve done a lot of asinine things, but this is not your fault.”

I felt very old and very tired. Total and Akila’s wedding seemed as if it had happened a year ago. Nudge put her head on my shoulder. I set the letter down and put my arms around her.

Tears were dripping onto my dress, but I wasn’t making any sound. There was no sound that could express this kind of pain.

I didn’t want to move, didn’t want to do anything. Fang was not waiting for me out in the living room. Tomorrow morning, when I woke up, Fang would still be gone.