Chapter one
I had the dream again. It was the same reoccurring dream that has haunted me since the accident two years ago. The accident that stole from me everything I held dear. Now my life was meaningless, useless.
I no longer wore chains. These people were finally realizing I wasn't going to run from them. I had nowhere to go, no one to go to. Never in my life have I felt more alone.
For awhile they tried to get me to talk. I barely ate, I didn't sleep unless they drugged me.
I was not who I used to be. I was not sarcastic and witty and strong. When I looked in the mirror I saw a stranger. I was no longer the indestructible Maximum Ride. People used to look at me with envy, they saw the future, they saw promise. Now they look at me with pity, with disappointment, and I can hear them whisper of my retirement.
But honestly, that is what I want. Maybe I can see them again, feel them. Maybe, if there is a heaven I will see them all. I can hear Angel's singing, Nudge's constant chatter, I can watch Iggy and Gassy planning to blow something up. Maybe with all the clouds in heaven, Iggy will be able to see. And I can see Fang, with his rare smiles that make my world a bit brighter.
I had to finally accept that they are gone…dead. We were in mid-air, battling for our lives against Flyboys—the usual. I still don't know, not even now, what went wrong. But I was forced to watch my entire team fly to their death in the forest below. And I couldn't hold my own in a fight against so many, especially after what I had witnessed. So I was captured. My Flock didn't even get a proper burial.
For days I screamed and screamed until they put a gag on me. I clawed at my own flesh, disfigured my skin until the put me in a straightjacket. They drugged me, but I continued to ram myself into the walls. I was put into a padded room.
After a month of me just lying in one spot, fading in and out of consciousness, I crawled into a little corner of my mind, and shielded myself from everything. This was even worse than one of those isolation tanks I'd experienced once. Not only were the lights to bright, the sounds too loud, and the padded floor to painful, but I had the torrent of agony constantly ripping through my mind. When I slept, I found no relief, having to face reoccurring nightmares.
As I carefully chewed the last of my food, not even sure what it was—I could not taste it—I heard yelling outside, and gunshots. I moaned and went into the far corner of my little room, and put my hands over my ears in a weak attempt to block out the noise.
"She's in here" I heard someone whisper.
No! No! No! Don't come after me. Leave me alone. Let me die.
My door opened and someone came toward me.
"Oh my God, look at her. What did they do to her?" Leave me be. Don't touch me. Go away. Let me suffer in peace.
"Max."
The voice sounded familiar, perhaps a bit huskier. I looked up.
Fang.