Nevermore: The Final Maximum Ride Adventure (19 page)

“Lose your God complex, my friend,” Ari sneered. “When we get through with you, there won’t be anything left to resurrect.”

“I created you, Fang. I created a… well, a monster,” Jeb said. “And now it’s my duty to destroy you, before Dr. Hans and those like him can torture you forever. Before your DNA can destroy our planet. I’m so sorry, Fang!”

He nodded at Ari:
Take him out.

64

BOOM!

I whipped around and saw that Gazzy had produced a bunch of homemade bombs—yes, from his
pajamas
—and started hurling them into the crowd. There were three fast explosions, and each one took out at least six Erasers.
That’s my boy
, I thought proudly—

—and that thought cost me, because at that moment a huge, hard fist collided with my jawbone, rattling my brain and smashing my teeth together painfully. I rose into the air, fast, moving on instinct. As I took off I spit blood down on the crowd and moved my jaw to make sure it wasn’t broken. I shook my head to clear it.

A hundred to six—by far the worst odds we’d ever faced. But I wasn’t going down easily, and neither was
Fang—I’d make sure of that. I set my aching teeth and dive-bombed the mass of writhing, hairy bodies.

“Max,
duck
!”

I obeyed the order instantly. A bird kid streaked past me and rammed the Eraser I’d been aiming for. I had one startled second to glimpse sun-blond hair. Caribbean-blue eyes flashed at me and then turned their focus back to the battle.

“Dylan!”
I half shrieked as I slammed my cupped hands over an Eraser’s ears. His eardrums burst, and he howled in agony. “What the—Are you
insane
?”

“Later!” he yelled back. “I’m sorry!”

So am I
, I thought, and then grabbed an Eraser’s thick wrist and twisted, snapping it and stopping the Eraser before it got to Nudge. But three more were already after her. And three more were coming for
me
. I dodged them and did a quick spin to get my arm around one of their necks.

Suddenly I heard a loud roar: Ari had Fang in a choke hold. Fang’s wings were pinned against his body, and Ari outweighed him by about a hundred pounds.

I headed toward them but as I did a claw raked my leg, making me gasp, and then several paws grabbed my ankle and pulled me downward. My sneakers hit dirt, and then I was whaling, punching, chopping, and kicking faster and harder than I ever had before. I had to: This fight mattered more than any other fight. Fang’s life hung in the balance. It was do or die for real this time. Possibly both.

I dimly heard another battle cry and from the corner of my eye saw Dylan drop onto Ari, deflecting him away from Fang—a move that made my heart hurt.

Dylan soared upward, into the black sky, and Ari roared ferociously, following him with hatred in his eyes.

My breath caught in my throat: This would be a fight to the death. I knew it would.

65

MY IRRATIONAL DESIRE to join Dylan in combat with Ari was interrupted when a heavy hand on my shoulder made me spin, ready to attack.

Jeb quickly held up his hands.

“Don’t
touch
me!” I spat.

His face fell, and in that moment, a thousand different memories flickered through my brain: Jeb taking care of us when we were little. Jeb leaving us. Jeb’s face outlined by the fluorescent lights of the School. Jeb taking Angel, Jeb hurting us.

Jeb trying to kill Fang.

Harden your heart.

I put my fists up and narrowed my eyes.

“Max, please—just accept this.” I still knew that voice
so well. “Fang has to die. One man sacrificed for the greater good—it’s the right thing to do, sweetie.”

Sweetie.

“
Don’t—you—ever—freaking—call—me—that!
” I yelled, and then I kicked Jeb, the man who’d raised me, in the chest, hard enough that I heard multiple ribs cracking.

“Ohh,” he moaned in surprise. He staggered backward, and then his face went white and he collapsed in a dead faint on the porch, his head hitting the ground with a thud.

I aImost felt bad, almost moved to help him. Almost. Then I reminded myself that he wanted Fang dead.

I turned from Jeb’s limp body and jumped right back into the fray without a second glance.

There were probably about forty Erasers left, plus Ari. We’d made huge progress, but the six of us were at our breaking point. All of us were bloodied, with black eyes, broken noses, split lips. My arms ached from punching and being punched, and the spot on my leg where the Eraser had clawed me was burning and hurting so badly that I couldn’t put weight on it. There was no way we could last much longer.

Iggy was above me, with four Erasers circling him. It looked like he might have a broken ankle, which was preventing him from kicking out at them. All he could do was keep them away from the rest of us and hope to get in a lucky swing.

Gazzy was trying to keep the Erasers away from the house and distract the ones that were after Iggy, but one of
his wings was slightly crumpled, and he couldn’t get off the ground. Several Erasers had him pinned up against a tree at edge of the woods.

Nudge was screaming like a madwoman, pounding her sneaker into the face of an Eraser who held her by the ankle. But two more were coming up on her from behind.

I didn’t know who to help first. And I had at least ten Erasers taking turns diving at me. As I smashed my fist into another one of their disgusting faces, I realized that I had just gotten Angel back… but I might be about to lose someone else.

Or everyone else.

66

CRIES AND GRUNTS overhead caught my attention. Dylan and Ari were both bloody and bruised, like the rest of us, and I couldn’t even tell who was winning.

Dylan quickly landed five lightning-quick kicks to Ari’s stomach, making him double over and wheeze. But Ari straightened almost immediately and swung a huge taloned paw through the air. I bit my lip as he sliced Dylan’s side to ribbons, sending blood splashing thirty feet below to spatter the trampled, icy grass.

Ari had done that to Fang once. Fang had almost died.

I watched, holding my breath, as Dylan abruptly turned and hurtled toward a tree. He grabbed a strong branch, snapped it off as if it were a twig, and dove back toward Ari. Dylan swung the branch in a deadly arc… just as
something collided with my head so hard that I gasped and stumbled. Immediately, I felt blood trickling down my cheek.

Watching the fight above had cost me.

I jumped to my feet and almost fell back down as a wave of dizziness hit me. Wiping blood out of my eyes, I made like a windmill, fists swinging in hard punches that jarred my shoulders, feet shooting out in kicks that were backed by every ounce of my weight. I could hardly tell which way was up or down, but I wouldn’t give up. I could hear someone yelling in pain in the distance. My flock needed me.

“Don’t give up, Nudge! Fang—help Gazzy and Iggy!”

I karate-chopped the throat of my umpteenth Eraser and screamed encouragement to my flock.
I won’t let them die.
Whirling in a circle, I delivered a kick that snapped an Eraser’s arm before shooting up onto the porch, where three more of them were trying to get into the house. There were Erasers
everywhere
.

I heard a bloodcurdling howl to my right. Dylan swung the tree branch again, and there was a sickening thud. Blood flew in all directions and Ari shrieked with murderous rage. He started to lunge toward Dylan but faltered suddenly, a fatal mistake.

My heart pounding, I watched Dylan swing the branch again, a cold, grim expression on his frighteningly beaten face. This time, the branch smashed into Ari’s head. Ari’s wings folded and he fell down, down, hitting the ground with bone-crunching force.

I stared at Ari’s contorted, unnatural position—a position no living body could be in.

Dylan—alive and upright—floated slowly downward to land a couple of feet away from me on the porch. He looked dazed, and his shirt was shredded and so wet with blood that I couldn’t tell what color it had been. His face was so beaten up that I mainly recognized him by his hair. He looked exhausted. Older.

“Max,” he began, and gave a little cough. Then he collapsed at my feet.

“He’s dead!” someone shouted. I didn’t know who. I was too stunned by the horror of what I’d just witnessed.

But then, impossibly, miraculously, something else happened.

The Erasers suddenly went limp and crumpled lifelessly to the ground one by one.

67

DYLAN WATCHED WITH half-open eyes from the porch floor.
Out of batteries
, he thought.
Game over.
He was so dizzy, and not entirely sure he wasn’t hallucinating. The fight with Ari had taken a lot out of him.

“What the—?” Iggy said mid-swing, as the fist he’d aimed at an Eraser’s face connected with empty air.

“How come they’re all down?” the Gasman asked exhaustedly. “Are they dead?”

“What happened?” Nudge asked, swaying slightly. All of the bird kids were more whipped, more damaged than Dylan had ever seen them.

“It’s like… they were all linked,” Fang said hoarsely. He wiped a hand under his nose, which was running with
blood. Both of his eyes were swollen almost shut. “All connected, all ‘wired’ to their leader somehow. So if Ari died…”

“Then they would, too,” finished Max. But her voice sounded funny, and she wasn’t looking at the fallen Erasers, wasn’t preoccupied with them the way everyone else was.

She was on her knees, looking at him, at
Dylan
, her expression afraid and grateful and so, so tender it made his heart thump wildly in his chest. She did care, then. She had to.

“Dylan, can you hear me?” she whispered urgently. Seeing his half-open eyes, she gave a sigh of relief. “I thought you were dead.” She peeled his fingers away from his side.

He looked numbly down at the wound, where dark blood was still flowing freely from deep, agonizing slashes.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.” She tore one leg off her sweatpants and he watched her quick, capable fingers transform it into a bandage. He winced as she pressed it against him.

“At least it’s over,” Nudge said weakly. She smiled through a split and puffy lip, then sat down stiffly on a step. “Well, almost.” She warily eyed Jeb’s quietly groaning, semiconscious form, still lying awkwardly next to the porch where he’d passed out earlier, but no one said anything—they’d deal with him later.

“Cheers to that.” The Gasman nodded and plopped down next to her with a sigh of relief, moving as if every muscle hurt.

And yet… for Dylan, it still wasn’t over. Not even almost. Dylan, after all, still had a mission.

Though he and Ari had had the same goal, he hadn’t trusted Jeb’s motives, hadn’t been sure that the rabid, enhanced wolves wouldn’t go wild after Fang was dead and take out the entire flock. He’d needed to eliminate all threats to Max before he attempted his despicable mission. And he knew that once he had made up his mind, he had to be the one to do it.

Well
, he thought,
now it’s up to me alone.

He had to be the one to kill Fang.

He struggled to his feet, conscious of Max’s sweet, concerned eyes watching him carefully.

“I’m sorry, Max,” he murmured, so softly that only she could hear.

And he whipped around, slamming his fist into Fang’s already broken nose.

68

DYLAN THOUGHT THE shocked look on Fang’s face was utterly priceless. It gave him the strength to do what he knew he had to do next.

Dylan rose into the air with powerful strokes, the air swirling and roiling around him. Fang had shot away from Dylan in shock, anger, and surprise, twisting his face into a grimace as his nose gushed from the blow. But Dylan matched him wing to wing. He was the hunter, his body strong and sure in the pursuit, his face set in grim expectation.

Dr. Williams had been right: He was stronger, more powerful, more advanced. He had been
created
for this.

There was only one way this could end.

In his mind’s eye, Dylan saw the fight from above—a
giant bird of prey and a snarling, wounded grizzly clawing and screeching at each other, streaking violently through the sky like a shooting star, both intent on one thing: blood.

Dylan watched as the bear twisted his lean body defensively, his dark, matted hair lifted by the wind. He watched the paw swing and find its mark, saw blood gushing from fresh wounds. Then Dylan was aware of a spark of electricity, a wetness vibrating on his arm.

He saw those famous fangs, bared and gnashing as a deadly snarl built from somewhere vicious and animal within.

Then he watched the eagle, stalking its prey from above with graceful speed and huge breadth, wings spread, talons out, ready to strike.

Diving for the kill.

Going for the throat.

And before he could register what was going on, Max was there, between them, real and physical, her voice echoing in his eardrums.

“Dylan!” she wailed, blocking Fang,
cradling
him, propping his body up even as she kicked and clawed at Dylan’s face. “If you ever loved me, if you care about me at all,
please
”—her voice broke as sobs overtook her, and it was like a knife slicing through him—“don’t do this.”

She was fighting him with all her strength, pulling at his hands, pleading with all her heart. Pleading for him to spare Fang’s life.

As if waking from a nightmare, he blinked a few times and panted as he looked from the tears running down Max’s dirty, bloody face to the hands clenched, viselike, around Fang’s throat.

They were his hands, he understood with shock.

He had wanted to protect Max, he told himself miserably. But Fang’s death, he realized, would kill her as surely as any whitecoat could.