Hello again! I don't know how many of you know this, but… the ninth (and what claims to be the last installment) of the Maximum Ride series came out on Tuesday! Whoo!

In honor of the release, I've decided to release a fan fic of my own. It's not based on the book, which I haven't read yet (so please, no spoilers!), but rather it's a story that I've been working on for some time. It, takes place after the "20 years, Lake Mead" thing.

Usually I post chapters and stories just after writing them, but this one I've been taking my time on and editing first. Something new, you know? So… enjoy the sneak peak of the story that I'm writing- the title is still in the works. Currently, I'm on chapter 13 of an undetermined amount. This section is from chapter 8.

There's more to come, once I finish the fic! Until then, enjoy!

It took several minutes for the shock to wear off. Once it had, Fang and I found ourselves staring at each other, our mouths opening and closing, no words spilling out.

My first actual sounds were feral. Scared. I had to force myself to pull it together. "Is he…?"

Fortunately Fang didn't need the full question. He knelt down, cautiously extended his fingers to the boy's neck. The time it took to find his pulse allowed me a window to think. The first thought: how ironic it was that my heart was beating a mile a minute, while the boy's might not be beating at all.

Fang answered my fears with a shake of his head. "Just unconscious."

I bit my lip; a nervous habit. What next? We could pack up our stuff and be out of town before he woke up. But that'd be the coward's way out. We could wait for him to wake up, find answers from him then. But he'd never cooperate. And what if he was like, a trained ninja or something? Granted he'd be a pretty poor ninja if Fang could sneak up on him like that…

"Does he have, you know…?"

Fang tipped his head, indicating the slits cut in the boy's cotton jacket. Right where wings would be.

I found myself kneeling next to the men. Even though we could assume there were appendages on the boy's back, I wanted to see them. Call it morbid curiosity, call it stupidity, whatever; I couldn't stop myself.

Slowly I pulled up his coat and t-shirt, revealing feather after downy feather. At first I only saw white, but as the fabric inched further up his back, the feathers turned darker. The very top feathers were in fact raven-black, fading then from brown to cream to stark white at the very tips. Their gradation was stunning.

Fang did not seem fazed. Instead he tugged the shirt back down, placed his large hands over the boy's frail shoulders. Poor thing probably hadn't eaten in days, weeks maybe.

Poor thing may have been sent here to harm, or even kill us. He could elicit no sympathy.

As I waited, Fang lifted the boy, drug him over to that ugly chair nearest my kitchen. "Do you have anything to tie him with?"

To anyone else, that statement may have been strange or shocking. For me it was normal; more so than most of this situation, anyway. "Only scarves and belts."

Short, yes, but it's only a small chunk. A teaser, if you will. Tell me what you think! Feel free to talk about the latest book, too. But please, NO SPOILERS since I haven't read it yet!

You guys are awesome! Read and write on!

~Faxisthegreatest123~