FLYIN'

Part 5 of SSBTMM's Maximum Ride FanFic

Disclaimer: The Maximum Ride universe = not mine. There you go.

Okay, everybody. This is Part 5, so if you're new, you will probably want to start at the beginning. If you're going to do that, if you would be so kind as to let me know that you're starting my story. Post a review for the very first chapter, for example. Just so I know that somebody's out there.

I began the story before Fang was released, and the story is continuing as such, just FYI for the new people.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Chapter 1

Hello. My name is Angel. I suppose you know that. You probably know a few other things… like that I'm blond, with white wings, that I have various telepathic powers.

Now, here are a few things you might not know. I'm eleven years old. I'm mildly clairvoyant. And I was recently tortured by a devilish mutant created by the wonderful Miss Marian Janssen.

I looked around at the flock. We'd all been dumped out into a desert… all twelve of us. How long have there been a dozen flock members, you ask? Okay, recap time.

Well, there's me. Gazzy, Iggy, Nudge, Fang, and Max. The old six. None of us in good shape.

Janssen had sent Max on her way. Max had rescued me, but to make sure we wouldn't return, she'd had Max's right arm severed at the elbow. Max stared at the bandaged stump numbly, not really thinking about anything.

Fang stroked her face tenderly, tightly holding her remaining hand, gazing at their wedding rings. Fang's was a simple gold band, Max's adorned with a pure black onyx gemstone. They loved each other so much…

Iggy kissed Nudge's hair. They were a cute couple too. They had been married during my brief departure from the flock, and I hadn't been there… but I couldn't blame them. I had screwed up pretty bad.

Then there was Gazzy… God, my poor brother. He just couldn't cope. I walked over to comfort him, but he moved away. He wanted to be isolated. I couldn't get near him.

The seventh flock member, regretfully, was not Total. Total is dead. Killed by my negligence, my certainty that I could handle anything. That's not a mistake I'm ever, ever going to make again.

In addition to the original six, there was Airy—Max and Fang's three-year-old daughter. A curly-haired little sweetheart, the spitting image of Max but with very Fangish eyes, her wings black but with brown speckles along the edges, Airy is easily the most adorable thing in the world. Snuggled up with her mommy and daddy, she seemed not to mind our predicament, as long as everyone was together.

Our eighth was a recent addition, having joined the flock about a month and a half ago. Get ready to be revolted—it was Max II. She'd been wandering Europe for three years, living as a scavenger, until she had seen Fang's special projection, a holographic image of his proposal to Max, spread out for the entire world to see. That's when she'd started actively looking for us, and finally found us in the secret base in Italy where we'd been living.

I hadn't approved of the new addition, and that was more or less why I got kicked out. But when I was captured by the Survivors, the evil organization that had swallowed up all of the others, they came back for me… clone-Max and I were pretty much cool now, but still… I don't know.

Then there was the… other flock. My flock had picked them up in Ireland, where a highly secretive corner of the Coalition to Stop the Madness had massed an army.

This other flock was raised by a separate Itex lab—they had been educated and trained for the sole purpose of saving the world.

Their leader was Imogen. Red-blond hair, aqua eyes… her wings were a bat's, fuzzy and ribbed, sixteen feet across and nearly as broad as she was tall. In her thoughts, I read hopelessness. For all her training, she'd never actually been in any kind of situation in all of her sixteen years—two years younger than Max, physically stronger, more educated, but ultimately not nearly as wise.

Imogen also had eyes for Max II. For the short period of time that Max II had lived with us in the base, I'd learned from her inner thoughts that she was boy-crazy. Not for anyone in particular, just obsessed with finding a boyfriend, any boyfriend. Then, in Ireland, she and Imogen had evidently enjoyed a very brief girl-on-girl fling. It hadn't worked out, and now Max II was back to her irritating man-hunting thought pattern.

Imogen's second-in-command was named Sean. His hair was shaggy and black, and dyed with silver and purple stripes. His wings were blue, with white streaks and black speckles, like a jay. His attire was heavy and dark, and I swear, his wingspan was identical to Fang's if it was a sixteenth of an inch.

Sean was fiercely protective of Imogen—they'd been raised together, and he saw her as a sister. He tolerated nothing happening to her. Glancing at a few memories, I saw that he and Fang had engaged in mortal combat more than once over insults to either Imogen or Max.

Now, they got along pretty well. They seemed to share a love of emo-ness and the supernatural, though they both denied it. A pretty cool pair, I think. And Sean seemed to be a really interesting guy and a loyal companion. And, maybe it's only because I've never previously noticed any boys, but I thought Sean was unbelievably hot.

Then there were Jacqueline and Falon. Identical twins with red hair and seagull wings, they were around the same age as Nudge but incredibly short for bird-kids, only five feet tall, though still very skinny. Imogen and Sean had evidently been raised under open skies in Ireland, but the twins were brought up in a manner not unlike my flock—in a science lab in London.

I didn't really care what they were thinking and where they came from. I despised them as soon as I first read their thoughts. They had seduced my brother, pressured him into sleeping with both of them. He had already been so messed up over the things that had been happening in his life… weakened and fearful… and what they did completely pushed him over the edge.

I sighed. So, twelve of us now… lost in a desert. We didn't even know what continent we were on. The black stone tower that the Survivors used as a base traveled rapidly around the world, and we had no idea where we'd been dumped off.

The sun started to go down, pleasantly lowering the temperature. We all knew it wouldn't last, that once the sun was completely down, the desert would be freezing. Max started passing around some of the high-calorie meals she kept in her backpack. She bared her teeth in frustration at having to divide the portions with only one hand.

Fang patted her shoulder, and she wordlessly handed it off to him.

"What do we do now?" Airy asked. It was the first thing that anyone had said for a long time.

Max ruffled her daughter's hair. "I don't know, baby," she said. "I think we should go to sleep. Tomorrow, we'll start flying and figure out where we are." She turned to me. "How are you feeling, Angel?"

I rubbed my arm, covered as it was in burn marks, knife marks, needle marks, and so on. "Swell, Max," I said.

"We're together, and that's the only thing that really and truly matters," Max said.

"Amen," Iggy muttered.

"We're all going to be okay," Max said quietly.