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  Nudge ran up, her clothes wet past her knees. “This place is so cool,” she said. “I love the ocean! I want to be a scientist who studies the ocean when I grow up. I would go out to sea, and scuba dive, and find new things, and National Geographic will hire me.”

  Sure, Nudge. Probably around the same time I become president.

  Nudge ran back to the water, and Iggy got up and ambled after her.

  “They’re happy here,” Fang said, looking at them.

  I nodded. “What’s not to like? Fresh air, peace and quiet, the ocean. Too bad we can’t stay here.”

  Fang was quiet for a moment. “What if we were safe here?” he asked. “Like, we just knew no one would come hassle us. Would you want to stay?”

  I was surprised. “We have to find the Institute,” I said. “And if we find out anything, the others will want to track down their parents. And then, do we find Jeb and confront him? And who’s the Director? Why did they do this to us? Why do they keep telling me I’m supposed to save the world?”

  Fang held up his hand, and I realized my voice had been rising.

  “What if,” Fang said slowly, not looking at me, “what if we just forgot about all that?”

  My jaw dropped open. You live with someone your whole life, you think you know them, and then they go and drop a bomb like this. “What are you—” I started to say, but then the Gasman ran up with a live hermit crab, which he plopped in my lap, and then Angel wanted lunch. I didn’t have a chance to grab Fang’s shoulders and yell, “Who are you and what have you done with the real Fang?”

  Maybe later.

  113

  The next morning, Fang came back from town and placed the New York Post at my feet with a little bow. I flipped through the paper. On page six, I saw “Mysterious Bird-Children Nowhere to Be Found.”

  “Well, good for us,” I said. “We’ve gone two days without causing a huge commotion in a public place and getting our pictures splashed all over the news.”

  “We’re going swimming!” Nudge said, tapping Iggy’s hand twice. He got up and followed her, Angel, and Gazzy down to the water.

  The sun was shining, and though the ocean was still pretty cold, it didn’t bother them. I was glad they were having this little vacation, where they could just have fun and eat and swim without stressing out about everything.

  I was still stressing, of course.

  Next to me, Fang read the paper, absently working his way through a can of peanuts. I watched the younger kids playing in the water. Iggy started a sand castle, built by touch, just out of reach of the waves.

  How come the Erasers hadn’t found us yet? Sometimes they tracked us so easily, and other times, like now, we seemed to be truly hidden. Did I have a homing signal in my implanted chip or not? If I did, why weren’t the Erasers here by now? It was like they were just toying with us, keeping us on our toes, like a game. . . .

  Like a game. Like a freaking game.

  Just like Jeb had said back at the School. Just like the Voice kept telling me, that everything was a game, that you learn through playing, that everything, every single thing, was a test.

  I felt like a neon sign had just lit up right in front of my face. For the first time, I finally, finally understood that this all might be a huge, twisted, sick, important game.

  And I had been cast as a major player.

  I sifted coarse sand through my fingers, thinking hard. Okay. If this was a game, were there only two sides? Were there any double agents?

  I opened my mouth to blurt my thoughts out to Fang but stopped. He glanced at me, his dark eyes curious, and suddenly I felt a cold dread. I dropped my gaze, feeling my cheeks heat.

  What if we weren’t all on the same team?

  Part of me felt ashamed for even having that thought, and part of me remembered how many times my adorable paranoia had saved our butts.

  I glanced out at the water, where Angel was splashing the Gasman and laughing. She dove beneath the surface, and Gazzy started chasing her.

  Had Angel been different since we’d gotten her back from the School? I groaned and dropped my head into my hands. It was all too much. If I couldn’t trust these five people, then my life wasn’t worth living.

  “Your head hurt?” Fang asked with quiet alertness.

  Sighing, I shook my head no, then looked back at the ocean. I depended on Fang. I needed him. I had to be able to trust him.

  Did I?

  Gazzy was staring at the surface of the water, turning this way and that, seeming confused. Then he looked up at me, panic on his face.

  Angel hadn’t come back up. She was still under water.

  I started running.

  114

  “Angel!” I yelled, plunging into the water. I reached Gazzy and grabbed his shoulder. “Where did she go down?”

  “Right here!” he said. “She dove that way! I saw her go under.”

  Fang splashed in behind me, and Nudge and Iggy made their way over. The five of us peered into the cold gray blue water, able to see only a few inches down. A wave broke over us.

  “This would be an excellent time for one of us to develop X-ray vision,” I muttered, a cold hand closing around my heart. I felt the strong tug of an underwater current pulling at my legs, saw how the wind was rippling the water out to sea.

  “Angel!” Nudge yelled, cupping her hands around her mouth.

  “Angel!” I shouted, wading through the water, taking big strides, praying I would brush against her.

  Fang was sweeping his arms through the water, his face close to the surface. We fanned out, squinting from the sun’s glare, taking turns diving into the surf.

  My throat closed, and I felt like I would choke. My voice was a strangled rasp; my eyes stung from the glare and the salt.

  We had covered a big circle, maybe thirty yards out, and still there was no sign of her. My Angel. I glanced back at the shore, as if I would see her walking out onto the sand toward Celeste, who waited for her by a piece of driftwood.

  Endless minutes ticked by.

  I could feel the undertow pulling at my whole body. I couldn’t stop picturing Angel’s body being pulled out to sea, her eyes wide with terror. Had we come so far only to lose her now?

  “Do you see anything?” I cried to Fang.

  He shook his head, keeping his eyes on the water, sweeping his arms back and forth.

  Once again, we swept the whole area, taking in every detail of the water, the beach, the open sea.

  And did it again.

  And again.

  I saw something and blinked, then looked harder.

  What was—was it—oh, God! Hundreds of yards away, a small, wet cornrowed head popped out of the water. I stared. Angel stood up in waist-high water and waved at us.

  My knees almost buckled. I had to catch myself before I did a face-plant in the water.

  Angel and I surged toward each other, the others catching up.

  “Angel,” I could barely whisper, unbelieving, when I was finally close enough. “Angel, where were you?”

  “Guess what?” she said happily. “I can breathe under water!”

  115

  I grabbed Angel into my arms, hugging her wet, chilly body against me. “Angel,” I murmured, trying not to cry, “I thought you had drowned! What were you doing?”

  She wriggled closer, and I steered her to shore. We collapsed on the wet sand, and I saw the Gasman fighting back tears too.

  “I was just swimming,” Angel said, “and I accidentally swallowed some water and started to choke. But I didn’t want Gazzy to find me. We were playing hide-and-seek,” she explained. “Under water. So I just stayed under, and then I realized that I could sort of swallow water and stay under and not choke.”

  “What do you mean, swallow water?” I asked.

  “I just swallow it and then go like this.” Angel blew air out of her nose, and I almost laughed at the face she made.

  “It comes out your nose?” Fang asked.

&nb
sp; “No,” Angel said. “I don’t know where the water goes. But air comes out my nose.”

  I looked at Fang. “She’s extracting oxygen from the water.”

  “Can you show us?” Fang asked.

  Angel got up and trotted to the shore. She plunged in when the water was waist high. I was inches away from her, determined she wasn’t going to get lost again, even for a second.

  She knelt down, took a big mouthful of water, and stood up. She seemed to swallow it, then blew air out of her nose. My eyes bulged until I thought they’d just fall out: Rivulets of seawater were seeping out of invisible pores on each side of Angel’s neck.

  “Holy moly,” the Gasman breathed.

  Nudge explained to Iggy what was happening, and he whistled, impressed.

  “And I can do it and stay under and just keep swimming,” Angel said. She wiggled her shoulders, unfolding her wings so they could dry in the bright sunlight.

  “I bet I can do it too!” the Gasman said. “’Cause we’re siblings.”

  He dropped down into the water and scooped up a big mouthful. Then he swallowed it, trying to blow out air.

  He gagged, then choked and started coughing violently. Seawater streamed out his nose, and he gagged again and almost barfed.

  “You okay?” I asked when he had finally shuddered to a halt.

  He nodded, looking wet, miserable, nauseated.

  “Iggy,” I said, “touch Angel’s neck and see if you can feel anything, those pores that water comes through.”

  Like a feather, Iggy skimmed his fingertips over her fair skin, all around her neck. “I can’t feel a thing,” he said, which surprised me.

  So we all had to try it, just in case. No one except Angel could do it. I’ll spare you the revolting details, but let me just say that’s one stretch of ocean you won’t catch me swimming in for a while.

  So Angel could breathe under water. Our abilities kept unfolding, as if certain things had been programmed to come out at different times, like when we reached certain ages. In a way it felt like being kinged in checkers—all of a sudden you had more strength, more power than you had before.

  How weird.

  Not weird, Max, my Voice suddenly chimed in. Divine. And brilliant. You six are works of art. Enjoy it.

  Well, I would, I thought bitterly, if I wasn’t so busy running for my life all the time. Jeez. Works of art or freaks? Glass half empty, glass half full. Like I wouldn’t give up my wings in a second to have a regular life with regular parents and regular friends.

  A tinkling laugh sounded in my head. Come on, Max, said the Voice. You and I both know that isn’t true. A regular family and a regular life would bore you to tears.

  “Who asked you?” I said angrily.

  “Asked me what?” said Nudge, looking up in surprise.

  “Nothing,” I muttered. And there you have it. Some people get cool abilities like reading minds and breathing under water, and some people get annoying voices locked inside their head.

  Lucky me.

  What do you wish you could do, Max? asked the Voice. If you could do anything?

  Hmm. I hadn’t thought about it. I mean, I could already fly. Maybe I would want to be able to read minds, like Angel. But then I would know what everyone thought, like if someone really didn’t like me but acted like they did. But if I could do anything?

  Maybe you would want to be able to save the world, the Voice said. Did you ever think of that?

  No. I frowned. Leave that to the grown-ups.

  But grown-ups are the ones destroying the world, the Voice said. Think about it.

  116

  “Look who’s come to the seashore.”

  The low voice, smooth and full of menace, woke me from sleep that night. My body tightened like a longbow and I tried to jump up, only to be held down by a big booted foot on my throat.

  Ari. Always Ari.

  In the next second, Fang and Iggy woke, and I snapped out my free hand to wake Nudge.

  Adrenaline dumped into my veins, knotting my muscles. Angel woke and seemed to take off straight into the air with no running start. She clutched Celeste tightly, hovering about twenty feet above us. I saw her look around, saw her face take on an expression that had disaster written all over it.

  I looked around too.

  And gasped despite myself.

  We were surrounded by Erasers, more Erasers than I’d ever seen before. Literally hundreds and hundreds of them. They’d been growing these things in quantities I could hardly imagine.

  Ari leaned down and whispered, “You’re so pretty when you’re sleeping—and your mouth is shut. But what a shame to cut your hair.”

  “When I want your opinion, I’ll ask for it,” I spat, struggling against his boot.

  He laughed, then reached down and stroked my face with one claw. “I like ’em feisty.”

  “Get off her!” Fang launched himself at Ari, taking him by surprise. Ari outweighed Fang by a hundred pounds, easy, but Fang was coldly furious and out for blood. He was scary when he was like that.

  Iggy and I leaped up to help and were instantly grabbed by Erasers.

  “Nudge and Gazzy—U and A,” I yelled. “Now!”

  Obeying without question, the two of them leaped into the air and flapped hard, rising to hover next to Angel. Erasers snapped at their legs, but they’d been quick and were out of reach. I was so proud, especially when Nudge snarled down meanly.

  I struggled, but three Erasers held me in a tight, foul embrace. “Fang!” I screamed, but he was beyond hearing, locked in battle with Ari, who raked his claws across Fang’s face, leaving parallel lines of red.

  The six of us are superhumanly strong, but even we don’t have the sheer muscle mass of a full-grown Eraser. Fang was badly outmatched but managed to chop Ari’s collarbone.

  Ari yelped and bared his teeth, then pulled back and swung hard, catching Fang upside of his head. I saw his head snap sideways and his eyes close, then he dropped like a dead weight onto the sand.

  Ari seized Fang’s head and brought it down hard on a rock. And then he did it again.

  “Leave him alone! Stop it! Please stop it!” I screamed, a mist of fury swimming before my eyes. I struggled against the Erasers holding me and managed to stomp on one’s instep. He yelped a curse and corkscrewed my arm until tears rolled down my cheeks.

  Fang’s eyes opened weakly. Seeing Ari over him, he grabbed sand and threw it into Ari’s face. Fang scrambled to his feet and launched a roundhouse kick at Ari that caught him square in the chest. Ari staggered back, wheezing, then recoiled fast and cracked Fang with an elbow. Blood sprayed from Fang’s mouth, and again he went down.

  I was crying by now but couldn’t speak: An Eraser’s rough, hairy paw was clapped over my mouth.

  Then Ari bent over Fang’s body, his muzzle open, canines sharp and ready to tear Fang’s throat. “Had enough,” he growled viciously, “of life?”

  Oh, God, oh, God, not Fang, not Fang, not Fang—

  “Ari!”

  My eyes went wide. I knew that voice too well.

  Jeb. My adopted father. Now my worst enemy.

  117

  I stared with the fiercest, most righteous anger and hatred as Jeb Batchelder easily moved through the crowd of Erasers, parting them as if he were Moses and they were the Red Sea. It was still bizarre to see him—I’d been so used to mourning, not despising, him.

  Ari paused, his rank and deadly mouth open over Fang’s neck. Fang was unconscious but still breathing.

  “Ari!” Jeb said again. “You have your orders.”

  Jeb walked toward me, keeping one eye on Ari. After endless seconds, Ari slowly, slowly drew back from Fang, leaving his body crumpled unnaturally on the sand.

  Jeb stopped in front of me.

  He’d saved my life more than once. He’d saved all our lives. Taught me to read, how to make scrambled eggs, how to hot-wire cars. Once I’d depended on him as if he were the very breath in my lungs: He was my one const
ant, my one certainty.

  “Do you get it now, Max?” he asked softly. “Do you see the incredible beauty of the game? No child, no adult, no one has ever experienced anything like what you’re feeling. Do you see why all this is necessary?”

  The Eraser holding me peeled his fingers away from my mouth so I could speak. Instantly, I spit hard, clearing my mouth and throat of tears. I hit Jeb’s shoe.

  “No,” I said, keeping my voice steady, though everything in me was shrieking, desperate to run to Fang. “I don’t get it. I’ll never get it. I want to get out of it.”

  His heartbreakingly familiar face looked strained, as if he was losing patience with me. Tough. “I told you, you’re going to save the world,” he said. “That’s the purpose of your existence. Do you think an ordinary, untrained fourteen-year-old could do that? No. You’ve got to be the best, the strongest, the smartest. You’ve got to be the ultimate. Maximum.”

  I yawned and rolled my eyes, knowing he’d hate that, and Jeb’s jaw tightened in anger. “Do not fail,” he said, a hard note in his voice. “You did okay in New York, but you made serious, rather stupid mistakes. Mistakes cost you. Make better decisions.”

  “You’re not my dad anymore, Jeb,” I said, putting as much annoying snideness into my tone as possible. “You’re not responsible for me. I do what I like. I named myself—Maximum Ride.”

  “I’ll always be responsible for you,” he snapped. “If you think you’re actually running your own life, then maybe you’re not as bright as I thought you were.”

  “Make up your mind,” I snapped back. “Either I’m the greatest or I’m not. Which is it?”

  He motioned with his hand, and the Erasers let me and Iggy go. Ari turned and smirked at me, then blew me a kiss.

  I spit at him. “Daddy always loved me best!” I hissed, and his face darkened.

  He took a fast step toward me, paws coiled into fists, but was pushed along by a rough, hairy wave of the other Erasers. They swept him up and shuffled off around the large boulder at the end of our beach. Jeb was with them. No, he was one of them.