MAXIMUM RIDE: School's Out Forever
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Chapter 1
Sweeping, swooping, soaring air-current thrill rides, there's nothing better. For miles around we were the only things in the infinite, wide–open, clear blue sky.
You want an adrenaline rush? Try tucking your wings in, dive-bombing for about a mile straight down, then whoosh! Wings out, grab an air current like a pit bull, and hang on for dear life.
God, nothing is better, more fun, more exciting. Okay, we were mutant freaks, we were on the lam, but man, flying, well, there's a reason people always dream about it.
'Oh, my gosh!' the Gasman said excitedly. He pointed. 'A UFO!' I silently counted to ten.
There was nothing where the Gasman had pointed. As usual. 'That was funny the first fifty times, Gazzy,' I said. 'It's getting old.' He cackled, several wingspans away from me. There's nothing like an eight-year-old's sense of humour.
'Max? How long till we get to DC?' asked Nudge, pulling up closer to me. She looked tired, we'd had a long, ugly day. Well, another long, ungly day in a whole series of long, ugly days. If I ever actually had a good, easy day, I'd probably freak out. 'Another hour? Hour and a half?' I guessed.
Nudge didn't say anything. I cast a quick glance at the rest of my flock. Fang, Iggy and I were holding steady, but we had Mucho de Stamina. I mean, the younger set also had stamina, especially compared to dinky little nonmutant humans. But even they gave out eventually.
Here's the deal, for anybody new on this trip. There are six of us: Angel, who's six; Gasman, age eight; Iggy, who's fourteen, and blind; Nudge, eleven; Fang and me (Max), we're fourteen too. We escaped from the lab where we were raised, were given wings and other assorted powers. They want us back, badly. But we're not going back. Ever.
I shifted Total to my other arm, glad he didn't weigh more than twenty pounds. He roused slightly, then draped himself across my arm and went back to sleep, the wind whistling through his black fur. Did I want a dog? No. Did I need a dog? Also no. We were six kids running for our lives, not knowing where our next meal was coming from. Could we afford to feed a dog? Wait for it, no.
'You okay?' Fang cruised up along me. His wings were dark and almost silent, like Fang himself. 'In what way?' I asked. I mean, there was the headache issue, the chip issue, the voice-in-my-head-constantly issue, my healing bullet wound...'Can you be more specific?' 'Killing Ari.'
My breath froze in my throat. Only Fang could cut right to the heart of the matter like that. Only Fang knew me that well, and went that far. When we'd been escaping from the institute, in New York, Erasers and Whitecoats had shown up, of course. God forbid we should make a clean getaway. Erasers, if you don't know already, are wolf-like creatures who have been chasing us constantly since we escaped from the lab, or school as we call it. One of the Erasers had been Ari. We'd fought, as we'd fought before, and then suddenly, with no warning, I was sitting on his chest, staring at his lifeless eyes, his broken neck bent at an awkward angle. That was twenty-four hours ago. 'It was you on him,' Fang said calmly. 'I'm glad you picked you.' I let out a deep breath. Erasers simpled everything up: They had no qualms about killing, so you had to lose your squeamishness about it too. But Ari had been different. I'd recognized him, remembered him as a little kid back at the school. I knew him. Plus, there was that last, awful bellow from Ari's father, Jeb, echoing after me again and again as I flew through the tunnels:
'You just killed your own brother!'