James Patterson - Maximum Ride Forever

“Nothing, nothing, nothing !” I bellowed.

I collapsed onto the couch and raked my hands back through my snarled hair, trying to get a grip on myself. “How am I going to do this alone? There’s no one left.”

“Gee, thanks, Maximum,” Total said pointedly, and strode out, his black nose pointed in the air.

“Come on,” I called. “I didn’t mean—”

“That we don’t count?” Nudge said coolly from the kitchen, where she was opening other cupboards. “Even though we’re the only ones who stayed with you?” Her cheek was healing, but there was still a huge, jaw-shaped wound, and it made her expression hard to read.

I sighed. “Of course you count, Nudge. Let’s just go back to the island, all right? Like we said.”

“There’re no boys left is what you meant,” she continued bitterly, cocking her head. “No Dylan. No Fang. No more cute guys to obsess over you.”

I pressed my lips together and stared at her. “What?”

But Nudge was on a roll. “Poor, poor Max,” she said, finding some ancient cans of tuna and an old jar of hearts of palm. Who eats that? “How are you going to survive with no one to fight over your attention?”

“Nudge,” I said, getting up, “you know I’ve never been the princess. Always been the dragon-slayer. Look at me: If I wanted guys falling all over me, don’t you think I would wash up once in a while?”

Nudge frowned but followed me through the cottage as I gathered our meager belongings, layering clothes and tucking a rusty hammer and an old water bottle into my tattered pack. It wouldn’t last much longer.

“It’s just always about you,” Nudge said, but with less heat.

That stopped me in my tracks. I turned and took both her shoulders, looking up into the face that might never regain its startling, budding beauty. “Sweetie,” I said softly. “It’s always about us, the flock. It’s always, always, always about the flock. I don’t know how to do it any other way.”

Nudge gave a shuddering breath, then nodded and rested her untorn cheek on my shoulder. We hugged for a long time, until a neglected Total weaseled his way between our legs, pushing like a little bulldozer until we made room for him.

With a watery smile, I patted his head and nodded at Nudge.

“Pack up,” I said. “It’s time to go.”

We would survive. We always had. We just had less to lose now.

The journey back to our island seemed to take twice as long as we remembered. Ever wonder why birds fly in a V? Because each bird deflects a little of the wind for the birds behind it. It’s all about teamwork, folks. Of course, with just Nudge and Total, my team was really more of a trio.

Despite Total’s protests about the fabulousness of his wings, he’s still a little guy and flying long distance is hard for him. Nudge and I took turns letting him piggyback. By the time we saw the outline of familiar cliffs in the distance, I was more exhausted than I’d ever been, and the only thought in my head was The flock is over. The flock is over. The flock is over.

“Just a little farther,” I said, as much to convince myself as Nudge and Total.

But our island was still a desolate disaster. Black smoke hung thick over everything, and by half a mile out, Nudge sounded like she was coughing glass, and tears streamed down my face as tiny flecks of burning material flew into my eyes.

The air was so toxic that flying inland just wasn’t possible. Instead, we flew along the outer edge of the island, heading upwind for the far north side, away from the volcano, where the smoke wasn’t quite so thick.

“I’m so tired,” Nudge complained, moving her wings in slow arcs to conserve energy. “Max, what are we gonna do?”

“We’ll find a place to land,” I assured her, though it was hard to keep the doubt out of my voice.

My flock of three hovered in silence for a few moments, contemplating the ash cloud and the sea of lava that now coated everything.

“Max... I’m not questioning your judgment, but our former home doesn’t exactly look livable at the moment.” Total gave my neck a brief lick, as if to soften his words.

Total had always been a little high-maintenance, but I had to admit he had a point. Food alone was already starting to feel urgent, and anything that had survived the initial explosion and tsunami was now almost certainly overcooked barbecue.

We were in dire straits indeed.

“Wait — there’s something moving down there.” I pointed. “Look.”

As we dipped lower, I saw that it wasn’t just something alive. It was some one. Human.

“Hey!” I screamed at the boy. “Hey!”

If you know me, you know I’m normally a big believer in Stranger Danger. My friends wouldn’t exactly describe me as a people person, since I generally loathe most of the people I come in contact with. (To be fair, a lot of them have tried to kill me.)

But the population of the world had been sliced drastically, I’d just lost most of my family, and I really just wanted a little sympathetic company, okay?

So I kept shouting and waving like a maniac, barely noticing when one of the figures moved away from the others and bent down to position something on the shore.

And when I saw the spark, my first thought was about how these people could be useful to us, since they had a lighter.

But then there was a whizzing sound in the air, and the small spark suddenly got very large as it rocketed up at us. Suddenly, it all clicked into place for me.

“Bank!” I yelled, yanking Nudge’s arm right as the firework exploded with a pop of dazzling red.

“Oof,” I said as my body bounced and then sank against the woven rope net held taut by dozens of hands.

They saved us! was my first thought.

They shot us! was my second.

Remembering the rocket, I wiggled my fingers, making sure I hadn’t lost any digits. Other than a ringing in my ears that was going to lead to a whopping migraine, I was in one piece.

I peered at my attackers through the rope. Some of them had webbed toes, and others had legs that were fused together to the knees, so that they sort of hopped.

Mutants.

They turned their heads as someone approached, and I saw that all of them had little slits behind their ears, opening and closing as they sucked in air. Gills. Just like ours.

“Release them,” a male voice ordered, and they all let go at once.

Nudge, Total, and I tumbled into one another on the ground. “Hey, easy!” I said, and looked up at the mutants’ apparent leader. “And you are...?”

“Rizal.” He was short and muscular with brown, deeply tanned skin and hair that hung down into his eyes. From the way the other kids were looking at him, he was clearly in charge.

“So, Rizal.” I shook the netting free from my shoulders and stood up, matching his even gaze. “Do you mind telling me why you shot a rocket at us and trapped us in nets?”

“That was a defense mechanism Jonny Diamond has been working on for months.” Rizal nodded to a skinny kid with glasses. “He calls it the Jeweled Star.”

“I don’t care what it’s called,” I said. “Why did you shoot us out of the sky?”

“It was a warning. To stay away from our island.”

Say what?

My eyes narrowed. “Um, I’m pretty sure this is our island,” I said, suddenly feeling very territorial about this unlivable piece of volcanic rock.

“Hang on.” Nudge cut in. “I know some of these kids. Hey, Angela!” She waved. “And Barry!” The fish kids didn’t wave back, but Nudge didn’t seem to mind. “We all swam together at the waterfall the first day Nino Pierpont brought us here! Remember? We thought everyone else had died! Where have you been the last three months?”