James Patterson: Maximum Ride Forever

“Not cold like this,” the little prophet insisted. She pinched the top of a bright green bean sprout. “They’ll grow fine in artificial light.”

Could I , though? I thought of the small life taking shape inside me, never seeing the sun, and I started to shake.

Just focus on stacking supplies , I thought, gripping the packaged food so tightly I was crushing the boxes.

You don’t have to hide it from me , Angel’s voice said in my mind. I already know.

My eyes flew to hers.

Angel smiled. “Why do you think I made Dylan and Kate stay glued to your side during the battle?” she said with a smirk.

I was confused about so many things — including whether I wanted to strangle Angel or hug her.

“I’m not ready to be a mom,” I whispered. “I don’t know what to do.”

I’d fought super-mutants and defeated dictators, but this was so far out of the realm of things I could handle, I was asking a seven-year-old for parenting advice.

“Yeah, you do.” Angel smiled, bumping my shoulder. “You mothered us, didn’t you?”

I remembered the flock’s food fights at breakfast. My utter hatred of school. The way Nudge had to remind me to brush my teeth.

Not really.

Angel giggled and snuggled against me. I smoothed her pale curls away from her forehead like I had since our days in dog crates.

“I never got to tell Fang,” I said after a minute, my voice flat with defeat.

That was partly why I had been tracking him so desperately. I’d needed his help to find the Remedy, but I’d also had something urgent to tell him.

“Excuse me, ladies.”

I looked up to see Dylan standing in front of us — I’d been so wrapped up in talking to Angel that I hadn’t even noticed him coming.

“Hey,” I said, my face burning. I pictured the day that Dylan found out about the baby and just wanted to curl up.

“Max, can you come with me?” he asked. “I need to show you something.”

Angel looked at Dylan, her head tilted to one side. She frowned, but he met her gaze evenly.

“It’ll just take a minute,” Dylan said.

“Sure,” I said, standing up. I gave Angel a “we’ll finish talking later” look and she nodded solemnly at me. Dylan and I set off, and I couldn’t help smiling when I saw Iggy demonstrating a homemade wrist rocket to Margaret A.

Dylan saw her, too, and gave me a rueful smile.

“So where are we going?” I asked.

“Remedy’s lair.”

My head whipped around and I stared at him. “What? What for?”

“I need to show you something,” Dylan said again, and I felt the slightest twinge of fear. Now that I was paying attention, he seemed kind of different. I’d hardly seen him for the past week — sometimes in the evening around a fire, he’d show up, looking exhausted. Almost haunted.

Again and again, Dylan had proven his loyalty to me and the flock, but the whole world had spun out of control and I couldn’t help wondering if being one of the Horsemen had changed him forever in ways I couldn’t imagine.

Or maybe I could imagine them. Maybe that was what the hint of fear was about.

“I am not going down that billion steps again,” I said lightly. “My legs are still aching from that.”

Dylan gave me an almost sad, distant smile and shook his head.

All around us, kids were working to build us a better future. I took comfort in the fact that there seemed to be people everywhere — no place felt deserted or lonely. Still, when Dylan led me inside Himmel and through the tunnels, I felt myself going on guard. And when he stopped in front of Jeb’s old lab, I hesitated and looked up at him.

“What are we doing here, Dylan?” I asked softly.

Again that slightly sad smile. “I have... a present for you. I think.”

Okay, that sounded ominous. I took a breath and felt my muscles tense. I really didn’t want to go back into that place. Looking up into Dylan’s crystalline aqua eyes, I searched them to read his intent. But I couldn’t.

He pushed open the door to the lab and gestured to me to go in. The last kids we’d seen had been a couple of minutes ago — out of screaming range. Pressing my lips together, I stepped in, praying that someone had gotten rid of Jeb’s body.

The lab had been cleaned up. Everything broken was gone, everything left was neatly arranged and labeled. I looked around in surprise.

“Who did this?” I asked.

“I did,” Dylan said. “I’ve been working in here.”

My eyebrows knitted together. “Doing what?”

“In a way, continuing my father’s work.”

I stared at him, unconsciously moving away and glancing around for possible weapons. “Dylan, come on,” I said, keeping my tone even. “What are you talking about?”

“This.” Dylan turned and went through a door on the other side of the lab. I instantly sprang over and grabbed a scalpel, though what I would do with it, I had no idea... Dylan was much stronger than me now. Hiding the scalpel behind my back, I waited, and in just a minute Dylan came back — pushing a hospital bed.

Someone was lying on that bed, covered by a sheet.

I saw just a bit of black hair spilling out from beneath the white cloth and almost screamed. My breath came shallowly as I stared at the bed, and then at Dylan.

“What... what in the world have you been doing?” My voice was high and squeaky. “Wh-who... who is that?”

“You know who it is,” Dylan said softly, and pulled back the sheet. “It’s Fang.”

And... that was when my pregnant self fainted like a schoolgirl, right onto the floor.

Or i would have hit the floor, if Dylan hadn’t had enhanced reflexes and superhuman strength. My eyes fluttered open just seconds later to see him looking down at me in concern.

He was holding me in his arms as if I weighed nothing, and now he gently lowered my feet to the floor. I grabbed hold of a lab table to steady myself and felt anger rising in me.

“I know what you’re trying to do,” I practically spat. “You know how I feel about clones. Your so-called dad was nuttier than a fruitcake, and you know it! Why would you do this? Why would you make a fake Fang?”

Dylan held up his hands, then pushed them through his dark blond hair in frustration, seeming to hold his head for a second. His jaw twitched and his teeth clamped together. Suddenly I realized I had dropped the scalpel when I fainted. Dylan must have seen it, must have known I’d picked it up as a weapon.

“Max,” he said tightly. “Everything I’ve ever done has been for you. It’s not like I’m a hero — we both know I was programmed to want to... be with you, above anyone else.” His eyes met mine. “You know how I feel, and how I would feel about you no matter what, whether I was programmed to love you or not.”

My cheeks heated and I swallowed, not knowing what to say. Why is he telling me this?

“I love you,” he said steadily. “I always have, and I always will. You know that.”

I looked away, not wanting him to humble himself this way.

“And I know you love Fang,” he went on more softly. “You always have, and you always will.”

Now I felt really bad.

“I—” I started, but he held up his hand to stop me.

“It’s not anyone’s fault. It’s just how it is,” he said, and I felt a hormonal tear come to my eyes. “Once I hoped — I hoped maybe Fang was your first love, and I... I would be your last.”

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, feeling an ache in my throat that might never go away.

“It’s not your fault,” he said again, gently. “This hasn’t turned out the way I hoped, but then, what has? The world hasn’t turned out the way we hoped, either, right?”