“Angel, where are you?” Gazzy yelled, turning in circles, bobbing up and down in the sky, then suddenly he crumbled, his face dissolving into tears. My munitions and weapons expert really was just a nine-year-old kid, and he’d just lost his little sister.
And I’d lost my baby.
78
“IT’S BEEN FIVE HOURS, Max.” Dylan’s quiet voice was like sandpaper.
“I refuse to believe that she didn’t escape,” I said stubbornly, and tried to help superstrong Kate shift some more twisted wreckage from the blast site.
Dylan and I had even crawled through the rubble near the manhole and tried to get back into the sewer system. But the tunnel had completely collapsed, and Gazzy said that while he’d managed to defuse most of the network of bombs, he obviously hadn’t gotten to every one, plus the poison gas was still down there.
He’d given me that information through sobs, as I held him, his head on my shoulder.
Angel’s last words to me kept replaying in my mind: It’ll be okay, Max. I’ll be with you always, no matter what. And Max—I believe in you. Forever. What had she meant by that? Had she had some premonition that she might not come back? Had she made the ultimate sacrifice? She’d talked of all my sacrifices. I was haunted by the idea that she might have chosen to make one of her own.
Next to me, Kate sat down. Star held out a bottle of tepid water, and Kate drank it. She looked exhausted. I sighed and bent down to move another chunk of cobblestone.
The police had closed down the entire area, evacuating the buildings that were still standing, clearing the Place de la Concorde. We’d hovered above the Louvre, waiting for them to leave, after Fang had made sure that his gang was okay. They’d been great, helping to rescue at least twenty people trapped under the rubble, helping to get hurt children to nearby hospitals. Now they sat on a curb, looking wiped, like Nudge, Gazzy, and Iggy. Only Fang, Dylan, and I were still on our feet. Just barely.
An aerial search had turned up nothing, but after two hours we’d found one of Angel’s pink sneakers, two blocks away. It had been ripped apart, its sole dangling. A section of it was stained with blood.
That’s when I had finally broken down.
“I tried to get to all of them,” Gazzy sobbed. “I thought I had. There must have been like a remote setoff that I didn’t know about. I don’t know what happened.” I remembered the wires sticking out of Mark and shuddered.
Would Gazzy ever forgive himself? I was the one who had decided to let him try. If I had insisted he leave there, made all of the flock get out of there and let the DGers…
We’d all be safe, but thousands of people might be dead, Paris would be even more ruined than it was now, and I’d still never be able to forgive myself.
This was the hard stuff, the leader stuff, the save-the-world stuff that I just couldn’t stand having to deal with. At a certain level, there are no best choices, no right decisions. Only choices that are less bad, decisions that are less wrong.
It was dark now. It was hard to accept that we’d found all we were going to find. We’d all been crying, off and on, for hours, except for Fang and Dylan. Somehow they had remained strong as they worked side by side with me, shifting the biggest boulders and the heaviest pipes.
Now I stood looking at the crater, wondering how the DGers could have done such a thing. How could that guy Mark have lived with himself? It was all too much. I wanted to go home, but I wasn’t even sure where home was at that point. I didn’t even know what had become of my mom or Jeb. Or Ella. Had they been part of this in some way? I wasn’t certain about anything anymore.
I hung my head, and I felt someone, Fang, gather me gently to him. My cheek rested on his shoulder, and my silent tears soaked his torn shirt. He felt warm and strong and heartbreakingly familiar. And at that moment, not a single thing in my life was certain, strong, or whole. Nothing.
Least of all Fang.
79
THE WEIRD, WEIRD thing about devastating loss is that life actually goes on. When you’re faced with a tragedy, a loss so huge that you have no idea how you can live through it, somehow, the world keeps turning, the seconds keep ticking.
Within hours of Angel’s disappearance, while my heart was still raw and bleeding and in denial, Paris was already starting to recover. Cleanup teams swarmed the Place de la Concorde; officials tested radiation levels. Fang had given them information about what still lurked in the crushed tunnels beneath the city, and they’d deployed military experts and bomb squads to finish the job that Gazzy had done so amazingly well, for a nine-year-old.
We’d combed all the hospitals and trauma units, pushing aside curtains, bursting into rooms, praying we’d see Angel’s filthy, wounded face—alive. But we didn’t.
As a beautiful sunset painted the area with blood-red hues, people began to pull themselves together. I wanted to grab strangers and yell, “Don’t you understand what’s happened?” But I knew it was pointless. It was only my pain searching for an outlet.
Finally, Fang came and found me, where I had collapsed in exhaustion, near the blast site. I looked up through dry and mournful eyes. “If we haven’t found her body yet, then she’s still alive,” I said.
He sat down, took my hand in his. Slowly, he shook his head. He looked like he’d aged about ten years in the past twenty-four hours. His face was drawn and gaunt. His hair and clothes were still caked with grit and blood. He shook his head again, slowly.
“No, Max,” he said. “Probably not.”
I wanted to scream, “It’s your fault! You’re the one who left her!” But it wasn’t his fault. Because I had left all three of them.
“We’re… taking off,” Fang said.
I knew my face was splotchy and tear stained; my clothes were filthy and covered with soot and blood and dust; my hair was matted with ash and grit.
“What?” I asked dully.
Nudge had been sleeping against my shoulder, and now she roused and blinked groggily.
Fang gestured toward his gang waiting several feet away. They looked whipped and dirty, and they had new, sad, firsthand knowledge about some of the awful things that can happen in the world. Strangely, seeing them warmed my heart a little. They were starting to look like they belonged with us.
“We’re going to take off,” Fang repeated. “The cops got some of the DG organizers, but not whoever or whatever was supposed to be the One Light. Gazzy filled me in on what he and—on what he’d learned at their headquarters. So we’re going after that. It doesn’t sound like Mark was the kingpin—he was only a servant of the One Light.”
“Huh,” I said, unable to offer more of a reaction.
“We have to kill the plant at the roots,” Fang said, “or it’ll just grow back.”
His face was lined and grim, his voice flat. He’d always loved Angel so much. Like we all had.
“Oh,” I said, and I got wearily to my feet, feeling old and hollow and like I would never be happy again. I don’t even know what I was expecting, but Fang and I sort of came together in a brief, awkward hug. I clung to him, relishing the milliseconds in his arms like they were hours, then I stepped back.
“So I guess this is it,” I said almost incoherently.
“Yeah,” Fang agreed, and my heart sank. I’d actually hoped he’d just say for now. “Be safe,” he said. Then he looked meaningfully at Dylan, as if to say, “That’s your job now—take care of her.”
Maya waited with the gang, and I knew I owed her. I went and stood in front of her, watching as her eyes met mine.
“Thanks,” I told her.
She nodded. And that was it—we were too alike to need anything more.
“Take care, guys,” said Fang to the rest of the flock. “I’ll post anything I find out on my blog.”
More tearful good-byes, and then they were gone. I blinked uncomfortably, feeling grit in my eyes, then turned to the flock. I swallowed hard. “I need to find Ella,” I told them. “And my mom. And maybe even Jeb.”
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Slowly, one by one, they nodded. I let out a deep breath, wondering if I could even get myself airborne.
Dylan came up to me. He wrapped his arm around my shoulder and took one of my hands in his. His hand was large, warm, and comforting. I looked down at it, and again, hot tears pricked the backs of my eyes, then ran down my face, making tracks through the sweat and the blood. I let them fall.
I looked up at him and nodded, and then we got ready to fly.
EPILOGUE
FAMOUS LAST WORDS
“You’re very superior, Angel,” said a voice.
Angel heard the voice, heard other muffled sounds, but she couldn’t open her eyes. She couldn’t move a muscle. She tried to still her panic, tried to calm down enough to figure out where she was, what was happening.
Her head was killing her, and she could tell some of her hair was matted with blood. Her feet were bare and cold. She had electrodes taped to her, all over, and as she realized this, panic washed through her. She heard a machine start beeping as her heart beat faster. Not again. She couldn’t go through this again.
“It’s okay, Angel,” said the voice. Angel couldn’t tell if a man or a woman was speaking. It sounded like it was coming at her through many layers of cotton. “You’re among friends. Even admirers. We’re going to take care of you.”
Angel tried to speak but couldn’t make a single sound. Was she even breathing? She thought so. She realized that her wrist stung—she must have an IV there. It was all nauseatingly familiar: the feeling of helplessness, the smell of disinfectant, the hushed hums and chirps of medical machines tracking every bodily function.
With all of her heart, she wished that she was home with Max and the others, wished she could curl up with Max and watch TV, wished she could watch Ella and Iggy bake cookies. She was just a little kid…
“You see, Angel,” the voice continued, “it’s important that you recognize your superiority. It’s part of your destiny. You have to take strength from that knowledge.”
An icy liquid seeped into her hair, and Angel wondered if they were cleaning the blood off.
“When you truly understand your superiority, you’ll be able to leave your humanity behind, once and for all. Humans aren’t needed for the New World. But superhumans are. Beings that are more than human, better than human. You’ll see.”
Angel tried sending her thoughts out, tried to get into the heads of whomever was around her. But it was like she was encased in plastic, with no thoughts entering or leaving. She’d never felt more alone. Where was Max? Was she worried? The flock must be going crazy, trying to find her…
She swallowed uncomfortably, aware that a tube was going down her throat.
That was when everything crashed in on her: The bombs, running after Gazzy in the tunnel, the huge explosion. She remembered nothing after that, until just now. She didn’t know if Gazzy and Fang had made it out alive. She didn’t know if they had saved thousands of people. She didn’t even know if she still had a flock.
She thought about the people, so many people, that might be dead right now, because she and Gazzy had failed. This is my fault, Angel thought. All of this is my fault.
Oh, Max, she thought, sure that Max couldn’t hear her. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.
Very slowly, a single tear welled up in her closed eye and seeped out from beneath her heavy lid. It rolled down her cheek, past her ear.
“Don’t worry, Angel,” came the voice again. “You’re very special. We’re going to take good care of you.”
But at least Angel was still human enough to cry.
In the Maximum Ride Battle of the Schools, schools around the country competed to be crowned the biggest fan of the Maximum Ride series. Congratulations to the following top-ranking schools:
Alton Middle School, Alton, Illinois
Amy Biehl High School, Albuquerque, New Mexico
Berrien Springs Middle School, Berrien Springs, Michigan
Bolivar Middle School, Bolivar, Missouri
Bondy Intermediate, Pasadena, Texas
Brownsville Elementary, Bremerton, Washington
Buffalo Island Central West Elementary, Monette, Arkansas
Cabot School, Cabot, Vermont
Caprock Elementary School, Keller, Texas
Carmel Middle School, Carmel, California
Central Tech, Erie, Pennsylvania
Centralia High School, Centralia, Missouri
Chain of Lakes Middle School, Orlando, Florida
Challenger High School, Hickory, North Carolina
Chester County High School, Henderson, Tennesee
Chicopee High School, Chicopee, Massachusetts
Clayton Valley High School, Concord, California
Cook Secondary School, Cook, Minnesota
Crone Middle School, Naperville, Illinois
Dalton Middle School, Dalton, Georgia
Decatur Central High School, Indianapolis, Indiana
Desert Mountain School, Phoenix, Arizona
Dundee Central School, Dundee, New York
East Middle School, Traverse City, Michigan
Edgewood Middle School, Mounds View, Minnesota
Explorer Middle School, Everett, Washington
Fall Creek Intermediate, Fishers, Indiana
Fern Creek Traditional High School, Louisville, Kentucky
Fort King Middle School, Ocala, Florida
Glen Alpine Elementary, Morganton, North Carolina
Goldie Maple Academy, Queens, New York
Great Neck Middle School, Virginia Beach, Virginia
Greenback School, Greenback, Tennessee
Hillcrest Christian School, Granada Hills, California
Holly Ridge Middle School, Holly Springs, North Carolina
Holy Angels, Arcadia, California
Holy Nativity Episcopal School, Panama City, Florida
Immaculate Conception School, Columbia, Illinois
Infant of Prague, Jacksonville, North Carolina
J. R. Gerritts Middle School, Kimberly, Wisconsin
James A. Arthur Intermediate School, Kennedale, Texas
Janet Berry Elementary School, Appleton, Wisconsin
Lake Alfred-Addair Middle School, Lake Alfred, Florida
Lexington Junior High School, Cypress, California
Long Meadow Elementary School, Middlebury, Connecticut
Madrid Middle School, El Monte, California
Mariner High School, Cape Coral, Florida
Marysville Getchell High School, Marysville, Washington
Mesa Ridge High School, Colorado Springs, Colorado
Mid-Carolina Middle School, Prosperity, South Carolina
Montrose Area Jr./Sr. High School, Montrose, Pennsylvania
Morse High School, Bath, Maine
Nagel Middle School, Cincinnati, Ohio
New Prague Middle School, New Prague, Minnesota
Nixa Junior High School, Nixa, Missouri
North Middle School, Colorado Springs, Colorado
Northwood Middle School, Spokane, Washington
Notre Dame Academy, Duluth, Georgia
Otsego High School, Otsego, Michigan
Oxford High School, Oxford, Connecticut
Philomath High School, Philomath, Oregon
Pinehurst Elementary School, Lakeview, New York
Reavis High School, Burbank, Illinois
River Bend Middle School, Sterling, Virginia
River Trail Middle School, Johns Creek, Georgia
Riverside High School, Ellwood City, Pennsylvania
Rochester Area High School, Rochester, Pennsylvania
Saghalie Middle School, Federal Way, Washington
Sierra Vista Middle School, Irvine, California
Slavens K–8, Denver, Colorado
South Charlotte Middle School, Charlotte, North Carolina
Sr. Goldenhill ALC, Rochester, Minnesota
St. Gregory Nazianzen, Los Angeles, California
Starkville High School, Star
kville, Mississippi
Steamboat Springs High School, Steamboat Springs, Colorado
Stroudsburg Middle School, Stroudsburg, Pennsylvania
Sumner High School, Sumner, Washington
The Academy of Our Lady, Marrero, Louisiana
United High School, Laredo, Texas
W. L. Chenery Middle School, Belmont, Massachusetts
Waukegan High School, Waukegan, Illinois
West Brook Middle School, Paramus, New Jersey
Wichita High School East, Wichita, Kansas
Yorkville Elementary School, Union Grove, Wisconsin
Visit www.MaximumRide.com for information about future contests.
FEBRUARY 2012
The final episode of
the beloved blockbuster series
is coming soon!
ATTENTION, ALL MAX FANS!
If you liked this ride, you’ll LOVE the newest series
phenomenon from JAMES PATTERSON. . . .
WITCH & WIZARD
THE GIFT
THE MAGIC IS EVERYWHERE.
AVAILABLE NOW!
Turn the page for a sneak preview.
Whit
HERE’S WHAT HAPPENED, to the best of my shattered ability to recall it.
I do remember that I couldn’t have been more lost and alone as I wandered the streets of this gray, crowded, and forsaken city. Where is my sister? Where are the others from the Resistance? I kept thinking, or maybe muttering the words like some homeless madman.
The New Order has already disfigured this once beautiful city beyond recognition. It seems like a decaying corpse swelling with mindless maggots. The suffocatingly low sky, the featureless buildings—even the faces of the nervously rushing people flooding around me—are as colorless and lifeless as the concrete under my feet.
I know the general populace has been efficiently brainwashed by the New Order, but these citizens seem a little too hushed, a little too urgent, a little too riveted to the scraps of propaganda clutched in their hands like prayer books.