DISCLAIMER: Maximum Ride belongs to James Patterson.
CLAIMER: Any new plot ideas and characters in this story are mine, unless otherwise noted.
Chapter One
We left Dr. Martinez's house about two weeks ago, and it's been a long two weeks. We've had constant Flyboy attacks, flown at least ten hours a day, and struggled to get enough calories in our systems to make up for it. The days were getting shorter, and we were starting to fly well into the night so as to not fall behind in our plan.
What was our plan? Good question.
After leaving my mom's, Fang and I decided not to make any plans. We would just fly north for several days, then south, then west, and so on. We had told the kids that we were looking for something Itex related that Fang had found on his laptop. We had to let Iggy in on our little secret, but the kids bought it, since that's pretty much what we've been doing for years.
Unfortunately, with shorter days comes colder weather. It's extremely hard to fly with winter coats on, and it's even colder in the air than on the ground, which I don't get at all. In the little time I was in school, the science teacher said that hot air rose. (Yes, I, Maximum Ride, actually paid attention in class.)
I ended up taking everyone shopping, spending a good hundred dollars on long sleeve shirts, hats, and gloves. Also, since it's even colder at night, we've begun to stay in motels, although we still have to take watch. We were surprised by Flyboys in a motel one night, and since then, we've been extra careful; those things have gotten quiet!
So far, my credit card hasn't been denied, but when it does, we're in trouble. There's no way we can stay with my mom again; it's too dangerous with Flyboys coming at us every two seconds, for them and for us. So for now I'm just grateful to whomever continues paying those credit card bills.
Though all of this, Jeb hasn't spoken up once. I know that I should be extremely happy, since I'm always complaining about how annoying he is, but I'm sort of worried. He's still with Itex, but now he's a spy for us. If they ever find out, he's dead meat. Besides, it would be nice to be warned when Flyboys are coming, so we can at least get prepared; it's very annoying to have to ditch a steaming, greasy burger when you haven't eaten in over eight hours.
"Max?" Gazzy asked, flying up to me and interrupting me from my reminiscing. He chewed on his lip, not sure if he should ask what he came over for. "Can we stay in a fancy hotel for my birthday, instead of just a motel?"
Oh, yeah; while we were at my mom's, Gazzy had checked out a calendar and found out that his chosen birthday was coming up: November seventeenth. He had been asking little things about it twenty four seven, and kept reminding us so no one would forget. Since we had never owned a calendar before, no one in the Flock had ever really celebrated their fake birthdays before. Gazzy had been counting down the days ever since we left, and now that it was only forty-eight hours away, he couldn't keep his mind off of it; I'm pretty sure he even told a Flyboy mid-punch last time they showed up.
"Sure, Gazzy, whatever you want," I told him, quickly disguising my sigh as a yawn. I knew that he was excited, and he had every right to be, but couldn't he give us five minutes without hearing about it? He was becoming worse than Nudge!
"I can't believe I'm almost nine!" he exclaimed, doing a quick flip in the air despite the fact that we had already been flying for over seven hours and everyone else was exhausted. "I can't wait!"
He zoomed over to Iggy, who winced when he heard his friend's wings approaching. I laughed quietly, pitying the blind pyro. Being Gazzy's best friend meant that he heard more about this up-coming birthday than any of us.
"Are we going to stop soon, Max?" Angel asked from beside me, her eyelids drooping to cover her crystal blue eyes. "I'm really tired."
We had only flown for seven hours, but it was already nearly ten. While getting lunch from a street vendor, Nudge had decided to chase some pigeons in the park, and while I tried to stop Nudge, Gazzy found a shirt that he just had to have for his birthday, which in turn made Nudge and Angel want to shop for hours. Iggy had gotten into the shopping too when he found a street vendor whom sold materials that I know I'll find in a bomb someday soon. Overall, we hadn't gotten very far during the day, but looking at my baby's deeply bruised body and pleading eyes, I had to agree.
"Sure, sweetie. I saw a motel a mile or so back; let's swing around and stay there." She nodded sleepily and began to make an arch in the air to turn back, while her brother did half of a flip so that he could fly upside down with us for a while. I laughed at the varying levels of energy in them, and looked over at Fang when I heard him laugh quietly, too.
"What?" I asked, seeing that he hadn't even noticed Gazzy's odd flying. Fang looked over at me, a smirk lighting up his face, his chocolate eyes twinkling in the moonlight. (I'm such a poet, aren't I?)
"You're defenseless against Angel's Bambi Eyes," he said, flying slightly closer to me so I could hear over the roar of the wind. It wasn't really too windy out, but we were now flying against the jet stream, so it was whipping us in the ears.
"So are you!" I said defensively. He laughed, although he knew I was right. If Angel ever joined Itex, they would win in a heartbeat.
After about five minutes of actually having to pump our wings instead of just gliding, we were all grateful to see the large yellow sign proudly proclaiming the words 'Motel Nine.' Six pairs of wings angled down, and five and a half pairs of feet touched the ground behind the motel.
Yes, five and a half. Of course, the half that didn't touch the ground was mine. My black boot landed on a jagged-edged rock, causing me to fall forward, arms flailing in the air, only to be caught by none other than Fang.
All around me, I head snickers of my Flock's poorly contained laughter. My eyes were squeezed shut, trying to prolong the moment I would have to look up at Fang. He was standing behind me, and his arms had wrapped themselves around my waist when he saw me trip. He hadn't moved from this spot, but instead lowered his head to my ear, his lips just brushing against my skin, sending unwanted tingles throughout my entire body. "You're very graceful tonight, aren't you?" he whispered. I blushed furiously, quickly prying his arms off of my waist and stepping several steps away from him, trying to regain my composure. I ignored the chuckles coming from behind me as I brushed imaginary dirt off of my pants and walked forward, too embarrassed to turn around and make sure everyone was following, or look back at Fang.
I quickly reached the front lobby and pushed the door open, the little bell above my head going 'ding.' I stepped inside and paused to hold the door open for the rest of the Flock, quietly telling Iggy and the kids to wait on the couch and not to touch anything. They nodded and filed over to the lobby, but remained standing, wary of the stains that covered the furniture.
"Let's go," I told Fang, quickly running a hand through my hair, trying to make it appear cleaner than it was. He nodded and allowed me to lead the way, staying a foot or so back. I couldn't see him, but I knew he was checking the place out, looking for any exits or suspicious looking people, just as I was.
I approached the front desk, mentally groaning when I saw that it was some teenage guy. I really did not need to deal with a jealous Fang.
"Welcome to Motel Nine," he said when Fang and I stopped in front of the desk. "How may I help you?" He used a monotone voice, obviously having said the same thing a million times before. I smiled at him, trying to seem as old as possible, grateful that no teenagers ask for IDs.
"We'd like to book a room, please," Fang said, stepping up beside me and placing an arm around my waist, giving the boy a glare. He looked over at Fang, startled, obviously having been too busy checking me out to notice whom I was with.
The receptionist glanced over at the kids, who were still eying the furniture skeptically, and then back at Fang and I. "One room? For all six of you?"
I nodded. "Yes. Is that a problem?"
"No, just wondering," he said, obviously relieved that Fang and I weren't sharing a room. "Just one night?" I nodded. He leaned over his keyboard, tying in a bunch of random numbers. "That will be sixty-nine ninety-nine," he told us. I fished through my pocket, pulled out my credit card, and reluctantly handed it over to him. He slipped it into a slot in a machine, which quickly beeped and spit it back out. He placed it back on the counter and turned away from us as I grabbed my card and shoved it in my pocket. He studied the bulletin that was full of silver keys for a moment, selecting one that was hanging by a frayed sting. He turned back and held it up for me to take, a grin on his face. Fang snatched his arm out before I got the chance to and took the key from the boy's hand, giving him a cold glare.
"Thank you," Fang replied stiffly. He turned and walked back over to the Flock, his arm still wrapped protectively around me. His being so close was intoxicating, causing me to have trouble breathing.
"Fang? I think you can let go of me now," I whispered, not really wanting him to let go of me, but not wanting the Flock to see us that way. He dropped his arm silently, and my waist suddenly felt very empty.
"You got a room?" Iggy asked as he heard us approach.
"Yep; number fifteen. Let's go." Angel hopped off of the couch he had slumped onto after deciding that she was too tired to be worried about anything that was living in it, and we all headed down the hall. I felt the receptionist's gaze linger on my back, though I had a baggy sweatshirt on (one of Fang's,) so I knew he wasn't looking at any loose feathers. Fang must have noticed it, too, because he let himself fall back beside me, behind the rest of the Flock, and wrapped his arm around my waist again, giving me that intoxicating feeling once more.
"Nine, eleven, thirteen, and…fifteen!" Gazzy exclaimed, practically skipping down the hall in excitement. I couldn't help but laugh at his enthusiasm; it was contagious. Fang left my side since we were no longer in the receptionist's view, and walked over to the door to unlock it. He pushed the door open and allowed us all to file inside before entering himself, closing and locking the door behind him. I groped along the wall before I found the light switch, flicking it on to let a dim yellow light fill the room. There were two queen-sized beds, a couch, and a desk with a wooden chair in front of it. The room was very bland, with yellow-white walls, a tan carpet, and deep red comforters on the beds, with a matching fabric on the couch. It wasn't too fancy, but there weren't mice hiding in the walls (that I knew of,) so I was happy.
"'Kay guys, Angel and Nudge get one bed, Iggy and Gazzy get the other," Fang said, walking over to the desk, plopping his black bag on top of it. The kids all nodded tiredly (including Gazzy, whom had apparently come down from his tired high,) and pulled off their shoes, leaving them in a muddy pile on the ground. They all stacked fists with me before crawling into their beds, knowing better than to bother Fang with stacking fists once he had his beloved laptop out. I walked over to him after turning off the lamps, letting the dim glow of his computer be my light.
"You can sleep on the couch, I'll take the chair," Fang said, gazing intently at the Internet page he had opened up. When I stayed beside him, he minimized it and turned to look up at me. "Yeah?" he asked.
I was about to protest about his sleeping in a little wooden chair, or say something about him not needed to protect me from weak teenage receptionists, but, as if on cue, I became aware of the dull ache in my body from the long flight and decided not to. "Nothing," I told him. "'Night." I stuck my fist out, and he placed his on top of mine, causing my breath to catch in my throat. I quickly pulled my arm back, plastered a fake smile on my face, and walked over to the couch, sinking into the scratchy material, hoping to forget these strange feelings after a good night's sleep. My eyes drifted shut, and I allowed myself to fall asleep, knowing that Fang would take first watch while he checked his blog.
Just as I was about to lose consciousness, I heard a soft voice in my head, but was too tired to figure out who it was. Sweet dreams, Maximum Ride, it whispered. In the morning, I had completely forgotten the voice.