A/N: This is my very first try at a multi-chapter fanfiction, and it's inspired from a little unimportant paragraph from MR4, so don't read it if you haven't read MR4 and don't want those 5 sentences spoiled :)))
For the ones who are able to read, please tell me what you think!
Disclaimer: Maximum Ride, no matter what age she is, isn't mine.
"Hey, Gaz! What are you doing there?" I asked. He was crouching near a pond-like thing. He didn't even turn around to look at me; just went on with his business.
Angel was sitting on Fang's lap, and Fang was sitting on a rock. Iggy had just clamped a hand over Nudge's mouth to stop the eight-year-old rambling about the birds. He was trying to hear them himself, their flapping, their sounds.
If you didn't get what's going on, even though this is a Maximum Ride fanfiction, which kinda requires you to go read the books first, then hang around just a bit more.
Since you're dying about what's going on, the newbie, here's what's going on: we're a group of genetically enhanced kids. We've got some bird DNA in us, 2 percent to be exact.
So what, you'll say. 2 percent is nothing. Well, I say it's not. It makes a great deal of difference. For a thing, we've got freaking wings. By "we", I mean me (Max) and my flock: Fang, Iggy, Nudge, the Gasman and Angel. Fang, Iggy and I are 11, Nudge is 8, Gazzy is 5 and Angel is only 3. The last two are the babies of our group. Angel is real cute, with tiny pure white wings. She can't even fly yet.
She looked sweet and innocent in Fang's lap, unlike her older brother Gazzy, who was fooling around in the mud. There was a plastic bag in his hand, and it looked like he was trying to catch something.
"Gazzy!" I yelled again, in my no-nonsense tone. I have learned that from Jeb.
For the ones saying "Jeb? What Jeb?", info will come later on.
"You'll get dirty and get reprimand from Jeb! Don't-"I managed before he jumped face-first into the mud. Well, his problem.
"What's a reprimand?" asked Angel's sweet voice.
"It means Jeb will get angry at him," I answered. Her small eyes widened.
"Don't make Jeb angry, Gazzy!" she said. My dear baby.
Gazzy, who probably didn't hear a single word of what I had just said, wiped some mud from his eyes and yelled,
"Iggy! Get here! This is incredible!" while looking at whatever was inside his plastic bag.
Since about everything Gazzy and Iggy found incredible usually consisted of something explosive, I got up and followed Iggy as he blindly made his way to the Gasman. Yeah, I said blindly, well, because he's blind. Haven't I mentioned that before? Whoops, must have missed, sorry. I mean, how much info can you put in a stupid fanfic? Go read the books, pal.
I guess that's more than enough commercial for my books.
Gazzy was now putting Iggy's hand in the bag. He jumped and gasped as I approached to the troublesome two. Gazzy quickly pulled the bag behind him as I held my hand out for it.
"No," he said. What? Come on, you gotta obey me. I'm the oldest. (Fang is 4 months; Iggy is 6 months younger than me. Some of you won't even consider this an age difference, since it really isn't an age difference, but let me tell you, it makes a great difference when it comes to staying up late.)
"Gazzy," I sighed. "What is it? Judging by the fact both you and Iggy were mesmerized by it, it's no good." Just then I heard a big croak behind Gazzy, from where the bag was. Nudge, also hearing this, began rambling almost instantly.
"Omigosh, Gazzy!" she cried, excited. "You found a new way to pass gas? And it doesn't smell at all! Hang on, it doesn't sound like gas though. It sounds as if there is a fr-"
Iggy had cupped his hand over her mouth again.
Fr? My mind began to work. Freesia? Nope, that was a flower.
Fridge? Duh, Max. You can do better.
Fr..
Fr..
..og?
"Gazzy, is that a frog?" I asked. His blue eyes widened.