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Authors: James Patterson

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Maximum Ride Forever (12 page)

BOOK: Maximum Ride Forever
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43

FANG HAD LOST a lot of blood in the bird attack, and by the time he’d reached the edge of the Rocky Mountains in what was probably Wyoming, he’d been so exhausted and light-headed that all he could do was flop down in a dry creek bed.

Now all his wounds were covered with pus-filled scabs, he was so dehydrated that his lips were cracked and bloody, and he was near starvation. He thought he’d read that you could eat anything that smelled like mint, but the spiny purple flowers he’d found had made him hallucinate for three days.

So when he first heard the voices, he wasn’t sure they were real.

“I mean, I signed up for the cleanup crew to kill some
freaks, you know?” a young male voice complained from shockingly nearby. “But everybody’s already dead.”

Fang had been so weak he hadn’t sought out proper shelter. Cursing his carelessness, he flattened himself against the dusty red earth.

He’d spent days trying to track down the H-men and hadn’t been able to catch even a whiff of their scent in the crackling desert air. Now that he was in such bad shape, the Remedy’s goons were the very last people he wanted to encounter.

That was the way the world worked, though: Life always managed to surprise you with child assassins at just the right moment. And find him they did.

“Well, look what we have here,” a stocky boy said with obvious delight when he almost stepped on Fang.

So much for hiding.

“Nice score, Chuck.” Another kid with bright yellow hair and a face erupting with acne stumbled into view.

The boys couldn’t be more than twelve or thirteen, but they already had the swagger of abusive power. Fang eyed the shotguns slung over their shoulders. They held the guns with casual affection, obviously used to handling them.

“You said the scavengers had picked these trails clean,” chubby Chuck said to his companion. He nodded at Fang’s wounds. “Looks like they got a taste and decided the meat was too tough.”

That’s not too far off base
, Fang thought.

“Lucky for me, my Benelli doesn’t discriminate,” the blond one said, his hand caressing the gun.

Fang stared back at them from sunken eye sockets. Were these posturing preteens, who days earlier he could’ve knocked out cold with a flick of the wrist, really going to be his executioners? Fang actually started laughing at his sorry situation.

“Is something funny?” Chuck demanded, trying to sound tough but verging on a whine. “Keep laughing. We’ll shut you up by cutting out your tongue before we kill you.”

“Or we could just string you up in a dead tree,” the nameless pimpled punk offered. “Leave you for the vultures to polish off.”

“Go ahead, please prove your manhood by one-upping each other in acts of cruelty,” Fang said dryly. If they didn’t use the guns, he might stand a chance. Maybe.

Trying not to wince, Fang struggled to his feet. The boys immediately cocked their weapons, their faces twitching nervously, but neither shot.

“Who do you think you are?” the blond kid demanded, and Fang didn’t miss the slight quiver in his voice. He would take full advantage of it.

Fang unfurled his huge wings. With his black feathers framing his scabbed face and haunted eyes, he looked like the Angel of Death, and he knew it. He smiled, and the blond kid stumbled backward, suddenly pale.

“Renny, look at him,” Chuck chided, awestruck. “He’s obviously a Horseman. Idiot.”

Fang kept his poker face. He still had no idea what the H-men looked like, but if he could convince these twerps he was one of them, he’d take it.

“A Horseman?” Renny asked excitedly. “Maaan. Who did you fight?” He glanced at Fang’s scars and bruises.

“A whole bunch of… survivors,” Fang said, mildly amused. If he played along, maybe he could actually get some information out of these morons.

“Did you cut their heads off?” Chuck asked, his cruel eyes sparkling. “I heard they’re like zombies—if you don’t cut off the head, they’re not dead.”

Fang’s jaw twitched with fury as he imagined his flock’s necks stretched over chopping blocks.

“The weak must be rooted out,” Chuck recited. “The earth shall be cleansed so we may evolve.”

Pretty sure that’s not how evolution works.

Fang stared at these little monsters with black, unblinking eyes. “Who did you say you were with again?”

“We serve the One Light,” Renny said. He lowered his gun and sat on the rock across from Fang.

So the Doomsday Group is still alive, still wreaking destruction.

When the flock had run across the cult a year ago, its glassy-eyed members had a mission of global genocide. The flock had done a lot to break the cult up, but obviously not enough.

Since then, apparently someone had taken things to the next level.

“We’re hoping the Remedy will turn us into Horsemen one day,” the yellow-haired boy continued chattily. “They say you just have to kill fifty survivors. I’m only at seven so far, but Chuck’s already up to like twenty.”

“Twenty-two,” the bigger kid corrected.

Fang had no doubt that number was an exaggeration, but from the naked meanness in Chuck’s eyes, Fang was sure he’d killed at least a couple of helpless souls.

Fifty people
, Fang thought disgustedly. The Remedy was convincing kids all over the world to kill at least fifty innocent people each.

“That’s just a rumor,” he said. “The Remedy values intelligence above all in his elite squad.” He raised a skeptical eyebrow at Chuck. “Guess that means you boys are out of luck. Sorry.”

“I could do anything the Remedy asked me to do,” Chuck said hotly, his round cheeks flushing with color.

“Maybe you could train us,” Renny suggested eagerly. “Teach us what it takes to be an elite soldier.”

“Maybe so,” Fang said. “My services aren’t free, though. You got any food?”

Renny nodded and fished some jerky from his pocket.

“Okay, then.” Fang’s dark irises glittered with contempt. “Class is now in session.”

44

“FIRST LESSON: MURDERING people to purify the population isn’t evolution,” Fang explained in his patient teacher voice. “That’s genocide.”

Chuck squinted at him, obviously weighing Fang’s words against what he’d been taught. He wasn’t quite ready to challenge Fang, though—not without the support of the other kid. And Renny was looking up at Fang with open adoration, his shotgun leaning against the rock pile.

“And second…” Fang walked slowly around the boys, noting the positions of cacti in his path as he gathered strength to make his move. “If you like to pick on the weak, you should remember that there’s always someone stronger than you.”

Moving fast, Fang kicked Renny’s gun away, then snap-kicked the kid’s knees before he could make a move. He spun around, lunging toward Chuck, but the bigger kid had already flipped his weapon to his hip.


These
make us strong,” he said, curling his lip as he pointed it at Fang. “Freak.”

And then he pulled the trigger.

Fang launched himself into a somersault right as he heard the first loud
pop-pop-pop
and saw the dust fly at his feet.

Then, when he grimly expected the next volley of bullets to rip into his flesh, Fang heard Renny squeal and Chuck groan instead.

Turning, he saw a blur of motion: a sneaker driving into Renny’s gut, pigtails flying as legs propelled in a windmill toward Chuck’s red face. All of this was at lightning speed, too—by the time the shells from the first round hit the ground, the acrobatic avenger had both boys on the ground, curled up, gun free, and moaning.

“Star?” Fang said, recognizing the preppy blonde who’d been a member of his mutant gang when he’d broken off from the flock. Star had supernatural speed, sometimes moving too fast to be seen. And even in this stifling heat, she hadn’t broken a sweat.

“Think you can handle them now?” she asked. Without waiting for an answer, she sped off.

“As I was saying…” Fang looped the rifle slings around his neck. “There’s always going to be someone more skilled than you, more powerful than you. Now, march.”

Fang hauled both boys up by their shirt collars and prodded them in the back with a rifle. Ideally he’d love to pick them up and fly around with them until they barfed, but he wasn’t up to that. Not in the shape he was in. He would have to improvise.

There was a rough outcropping of rock, maybe about three feet wide, that leaned far over a canyon. It was a little canyon, only a couple of hundred feet deep, but the boys would certainly go splat if they took a misstep.

“Keep going,” he said mildly, edging them onto the outcropping.

Frowning, the blond kid turned around to protest, but Fang pointed a rifle at him.

Carefully the boys took tiny sidesteps, holding on to each other. The blood drained from their faces as Fang urged them farther and farther over the canyon.

“So what have we learned, kids?” Fang asked when the boys were only inches from the edge.

“That you’re a big jerk,” Renny said, though his voice quavered.

Fang laughed, then said, “No. We’ve learned that what goes around, comes around. We’ve learned that if you target the weak, you’ll be targeted by someone who sees
you
as weak. We’ve learned that guns are a no-no.” With that, Fang unlooped the straps and tossed the rifles over the ledge.

The boys cried out in unison, lunging and grasping at air as the rifles disappeared over the cliff.

“You might as well have killed us!” Chuck said, his bravado failing him. “How are we supposed to protect ourselves without guns? Or hunt?”

Fang almost felt a twinge of guilt for leaving them like this—the boys weren’t much older than Gazzy or Angel. The only difference was, they’d bragged about killing dozens of people.

That was enough of a difference for Fang.

“Whatever you do, don’t eat the purple flowers,” Fang advised, backing away. “They might smell nice, but trust me, that’s not the kind of trip you want to take.”

“You can’t just leave us here!” the kids wailed.

“Sure I can,” Fang said, praying he had enough energy for his takeoff.

“We’ll get eaten by bears or something!”

“Survival of the fittest,” Fang called over his shoulder. “Now
that’s
evolution. Class dismissed.” With a running jump, he threw himself out over the canyon, snapping his wings out and feeling grateful that even in their sorry state they could still support him. Now he just had to find Star again.

45

STAR WAS ALREADY more than five miles down the winding trail when Fang spotted her. He came to a somewhat clumsy landing right behind her and called her name, but she didn’t acknowledge him, and Fang felt anger flare in his chest.

Star had betrayed him, his gang, and the flock, and now
she
was ignoring
him
? Still, at this point, Fang badly needed any tips he could get. From anyone. He kicked up red dust as he trotted to keep up with what, for her, was no doubt a snail’s pace.

“I just wanted to say thanks,” he said, breathing heavily from the continued strain on his still-mending body.

“Yeah, well, I owed you one,” Star said curtly, and kept her gaze fixed straight ahead into the mountains. “Now we’re even.”

Star had a lot of pride, and that was probably about as close to an apology as Fang was going to get, but now that he was facing the girl who had caused him so much anguish, he couldn’t hide his disgust.


Even?
” he sneered. Star and her best friend Kate’s betrayals had resulted in the death of Maya, Max’s clone and another member of Fang’s gang. “I would say that you and Kate both are still pretty far from even.”

“Save the lecture,” Star said, whirling to face him. “I wasn’t trying to make up. I just thought it’d be pathetic to watch a former leader get slaughtered by stupid Doomsday kids.” She put her hands on her hips and smiled, her tone cutting. “I took pity on you, Fang. That’s all it was.”

“Well, you haven’t changed much,” Fang muttered.

Always a delight to be around.

In fact, Star had changed a lot. He’d known her as a rich boarding school priss who always had perfectly applied makeup, but now she was haggard, her cheeks sunken. The girl had always been rail thin, but now she was downright gaunt. Fang knew her metabolism ran as fast as the rest of her, which meant that if he was struggling to eat, she was, too.

Star turned from him, her pigtails swinging behind her, and took off again.

“Hey!” Fang yelled after her. This time, she was almost out of sight by the time he got the word out. “Do you want some food?”

Reappearing in just seconds, Star grabbed the jerky
Fang held out and shoved it hungrily into her mouth. As hard as it was for Fang to watch his precious meal disappear, it was worth it if it would buy him some information.

“Have you seen any of these Horseman things?” he asked while she chewed. “What should I watch out for? What do they look like?”

“Like anyone,” Star said around a big bite, suddenly sounding a lot more amicable. “Like you. Like me.”

“What do you mean?”

“It depends on what they were before.” Star shrugged her slight shoulders. “That’s what I learned when Jeb promised me a way out. He tried to inject me with the serum, said it was just going to give me an upgrade.”

Blood rushed to Fang’s temples, and his whole body tensed.

“Relax, bird breath.” Star rolled her eyes, but she was clearly enjoying his discomfort. “You think I’d actually let them do that to me? I told them I didn’t need a Remedy, that I was perfect enough, thanks. Then I hightailed it outta that Siberian wasteland faster than you can say ‘Ah.’ ”

Siberia?
“So
Jeb’s
the Remedy?” Fang felt sick. Once Jeb had been his surrogate father. Once Fang had thought he was capable of love and goodness. He knew better now, but was Jeb really capable of the ultimate act of evil?

“Jeb’s the manufacturer,” Star corrected. She propped her instep against a boulder and started to stretch, wincing. “I don’t know who’s pulling the strings at the top.”

Fang didn’t know whether to be relieved Jeb was just a
pawn or frustrated that the Remedy’s identity was still a mystery. Either way, he had to find that lab.

“And this is all going down somewhere in Russia?”

Great. Another thing Angel can hold over us.
Fang smiled to himself, though, feeling a surge of love for his bossy little sister.

Star nodded, massaging her knotted calf muscle. “That’s what I heard. I heard them call it Himmel.”

“Angel has people gathering in Russia already. I don’t know what she has planned, but I’ve got to get there a-sap. Join me?”

Star snapped her head up sharply at the suggestion. “Uh-uh. No way.” Fang could see the fear in her usually defiant ice-blue eyes. “Those people don’t want to make improvements—they want to replace all humankind with robots. I’m fine on my own.”

This time when she ran, she didn’t wait for him to catch up. The only evidence that she’d ever been there at all was the dust cloud disappearing over a distant ridge and the jerky wrapper on the ground at his feet.

BOOK: Maximum Ride Forever
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