Maximum Ride: Chapter 35 ½
"Come again?"
"The roof," I repeated. "It's a fabulous starting point."
"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Concern flashed across his features and then disappeared almost instantly, replaced with a brave, but forced determination. I could have some fun with this, I thought, my mouth slowly twisting into a smirk.
"As good as any. So," I said, clapping my hands together. "Let's get this show on the road, eh?" I crouched to spring upward and gently shook my shoulders to unfold my wings. A quick glance back at Dylan revealed his obvious hesitation. Gimme a break… I did not have time for this. "Alright. Let's get one thing straight here, kay? I don't know who you are or why you're here, but I am by no means obligated to do you any favors. Got that? This is rare, what you are witnessing right now. So while you're under my wing, so to speak, you'll play by my rules. S'my way or the highway," I shrugged. "Simple as that."
His set expression didn't falter a bit from my threat, his bright turquoise eyes still shining eagerly in the darkness.
"I understand, Max. I'm grateful that you are willing to help me." Hmph. Mr. Perfect thinks he can play me with the polite façade, huh? Well.
I turned and jumped, forcing one powerful down stroke that was enough to get me airborne, and landed lightly on the roof, Dylan huffing and puffing close behind. After he clawed and flapped his way loudly up the side, he seemed almost out of breath, quite a task for a bird kid with excellent lungs and air sacs. I applaud him for that.
"That… wasn't… so… bad," he wheezed, pulling himself to his feet and brushing the invisible dirt off his jeans. I rolled my eyes.
"Well?" I motioned to the open air before us. "You wanna learn? Here's your chance."
"Is there another option?"
"Don't be ridiculous. You know what they say, 'If at first you don't succeed, then skydiving is not for you.' Guess we'll find out," I said, and swiftly shoved him over the edge. "Pull your wings out before you hit the ground!" I reminded him as I dove. "It might help you, you know, not die."
Just as Dylan came within mere feet of the hard, unforgiving earth, he snapped out his wings, soaring up in a smooth arc. My eyes widened. "Um, okay, now try turning; just angle your right wing up slightly. Don't expect to get it at first, it took us a while to master."
"I'll try…." He said a little breathlessly.
Never underestimate a mutant eight-month-old. Ten minutes later Dylan was tilting, twisting, and turning through the crisp Colorado night air. Pretty well, to my surprise and extreme irritation. Can't fly, my butt.
"Oh, man! This is amazing!" He exclaimed, continually flying circles around me as he wheeled effortlessly through the sky.
"Show off," I muttered. Should've pushed him off the mountainside.