James Patterson - Maximum Ride Forever

“Fang?” I couldn’t help calling, but I knew it was pointless.

The front door banged on its hinges as I burst inside, tracking ash behind me. Iggy and Gazzy turned from where they knelt next to the coffee table.

“Is Fang here?” I asked.

“Haven’t seen him,” the Gasman said.

He couldn’t have left. He would’ve told me, right? He couldn’t be gone gone. Especially when Iggy and Gazzy didn’t even seem to care.

My gaze traveled to the coffee table, where they had their backpacks and their various bits and pieces of explosives and weapons spread out.

“What are you...” I started to ask, but then I understood: They don’t care if Fang’s gone because they’re getting ready to leave, too. For real.

I’d thought we’d talk over the fight in the morning, make up and tease one another — like the old days. But their tense shoulders and distant expressions said otherwise.

Uh-uh , my denial-loving brain insisted. This is not happening!

I picked up a couch cushion and threw it at the table like a Frisbee. Bottles and fuses went tumbling every which way.

“You guys are idiots!” I glowered at the boys. “You’re really going to just leave? What about our promise to stick together?”

Gazzy stared at the stained carpet guiltily. “What other choice do we have?”

“Just... trust the flock.” I pounded my fist into my palm. Part of me was imagining Fang’s face there. “ Trust that we can do this together, like we always have. Is that so hard?”

“Trust the flock? Or you ?” Iggy asked.

“We just want answers, Max,” Gazzy said. “And that doesn’t really seem like a priority for you.”

Iggy stood up. “We want to learn who’s still alive, but you’re too worried about who’s dead.”

Like my mom. I didn’t know what to say. Instead, I stormed out of the cabin, hoping to see Fang soaring back toward us, like he’d just gone out for a morning zip around the block. But no... things don’t work the way they used to in the pre-apocalyptic world. No Hollywood endings here.

I spotted Nudge and Total in the garden over by Akila’s grave. “Has anyone seen Fang?” I called out.

Nudge shook her head miserably. She looked like she’d been crying all night.

Iggy and Gazzy came out of the cabin wearing their backpacks.

“You’re really going, then?” I said angrily as they strode past. “That’s it?”

“Maybe you should start trusting us for a change,” Iggy said. “You ready, Gasman?”

Gazzy glanced up at the roof. Angel was balancing on top of the lightning rod, swaying with the wind. She didn’t make a move to come down.

“Let’s see if America is still the land of the free.” Gazzy arranged the pack straps on his shoulders, and both he and Iggy snapped open their wings.

Nudge walked over to join me. As we watched the boys take off, I shoved clenched fists deep into my pockets. Silent tears ran down Nudge’s face, and when Total put his paws against her legs, she bent down and held him tight.

Before I could even process the fact that I might never again see these kids I’d known since they were hatchlings, Total pulled away from Nudge and touched my hand with his wet nose.

“Fang left at dawn,” he said quietly. “I think he wanted me to tell you.”

“He—” I squeaked, but the words felt strangled in my throat. After... last night? I thought that had cemented things between us. Now it looked like it had done the opposite.

I’d known the truth, deep in my bones, even if I hadn’t wanted to believe it at first. Now it was real, verified: He wasn’t coming back, despite everything. Despite me. He was gone gone. Total’s sad eyes confirmed it.

Fang really was gone.

Forever.

I started to hyperventilate.

“You know that boy adores you, Max,” Total said.

“Stop it,” I said, covering my ears and squeezing my eyes shut tight.

Tears threatened to overflow, but I couldn’t give in to them, not yet. I was too furious — at Iggy and Gazzy for leaving, at Fang for not even bothering to say good-bye, at Angel for starting this whole thing.

I stomped across the yard and glared up at our little towheaded mystic. Angel was crouched like a gargoyle, her lips pursed into a pout.

“Are you happy with yourself?” I snarled. “We could’ve figured out a plan. A place to go together. Instead, you broke up the whole flock!”

She looked down at me sadly, unblinkingly, for a long time. Finally, she stepped off the lightning rod and fluttered down to the ground. “I should get going, too,” she said.

With those words, the reality finally hit home: I was going to lose her — again. As hard as I’d tried to keep us together through the years, she was leaving, along with everyone else — my mom, Ella, Dylan, Akila, Fang, Gazzy, Iggy...

The anger disappeared, and I reached out and clutched her to me in a fierce hug. What else could I do?

“Please,” I whispered. “You can’t go.”

Angel wrapped her arms around my neck and I pressed my face into her ashy, once-fluffy locks, remembering how I use to smooth her hair from her face when she was little, how I’d promised I would protect her. I imagined Angel out in that awful new world alone, without her flock. Without me.

I’m not your baby anymore, Max , her voice said in my head. I never really was.

She wriggled out of my grasp and turned to Nudge and Total. “Take care of each other, okay?”

Nudge nodded and hugged her tearfully, and Total licked her face, leaving odd clean streaks. Angel unfurled her wings, her primary feathers still tipped with crud from the ash and rain. But before she took off, she turned back to me.

“One day you’ll understand,” she said, her face an infuriating picture of Zen confidence. “You might even thank me.”

“I seriously doubt that,” I muttered.

I guess we can’t all be enlightened. Angel grinned. See you in Russia.

Moments later, I watched the little kid I’d raised and loved and butted heads with fly away from me. I watched her curls bouncing as she pushed off, waiting to see if she’d turn her head again, but she never did.

Instead, Angel’s white wings rose through the ash, and soon she was a speck I couldn’t tell apart from the rest of the sky.

I stood next to the mound where we’d buried Akila, staring up at the churning sky and biting hard on the insides of my cheeks as I tried to keep from screaming.

They’ve left. They’ve really left.

Sure, we’d had our ups and downs. The boys had splintered off briefly before. Fang had gone off on his own more than once. Iggy had joined a cult. Nudge once wanted to cut off her wings. Gazzy almost blew up his sister, and Angel had always had a bit of a God complex.

But this was the first time that the flock had really, truly, broken up, and it was the worst possible timing. After the world ends, you really need someone you can count on, you know?

No problem. Just leave it to Numero Uno to pick up the pieces. As usual.

I went back into the house, past Nudge and Total, who were sitting dejectedly at the kitchen table.

“I used to think you couldn’t trust adults,” I announced, banging open the cupboards to search for anything we could use. “But really, you can’t trust anyone. Not kids, not mutants.”

My fingers trembled with rage. I swiped my arm across the shelf and Total whistled as dishes clattered to the floor. I flung jars of rotten Vegemite at the wall and stabbed a dull, useless knife into the counter. Nudge gasped.