Disclaimer! I don't own Maximum Ride. I'm stir crazy waiting for August 6th and wrote this a while back. Thought I'd post it before Nevermore comes out. Happy distractions! BTW. I know my writing style is slightly fractured (I use dependant clauses often). I do this because Max is scatter-brained and I think it adds that effect. I'm not an idiot and I am taking poetic license here. Don't like it? Feel free to flame me CONSTRUCTIVELY. Happy reading!
1
Flying from one battle to the next is exhausting. I feel like I haven't had a shower or a nap in two years now…But enough about me. Welcome back to another episode of 'My so called life.'
'Where to now?'
Glad you asked! Back to the desert compound to get Ella, of course. Save the cheerleader, save the world. Really, after the whole …episode... I just feel the need to punch something.
I wish it were that simple about Ella. She is a cheerleader. Too bad it is for a maniacal organization of crazies that want her dead or altered.
Why couldn't she just be a tree huggin', folk song spewin', hippie? Anyways. I thought we had de-programmed her, but not enough. She wanted wings. We hope she's at the compound. Just a wild guess.
If our rescue is successful, I have no idea what we're doing or where to go next; Who to love, who to kill, where to start looking for my mom and Jeb, or why I stopped looking for Angel in spite of what Fang said. I just don't believe it. All we found is a shoe. I think I'd feel if she were dead, and right now, I don't feel much of anything.
My thoughts are reeling. I have made one decision, though. No boys until after the crisis. Stop thinking with my heart and if Dylan can't accept that, since he usually doesn't ask me first, he'll have to answer to my knee.
I giggled mid-stroke and glanced over to see the rest of the flock ogling me.
"Did I grow another head?" I asked.
More silence. Then, "You okay?" from Dylan.
"Peachy."
