"Maaaaax!"

"What, Nudge?"

"I'm hungry."

Ooh. Didn't see that one coming. I rolled my eyes at Fang, at my right. He smirked.

"Okay, guys," I shouted over the wind. "Let's look for a place to land."

After landing by some dumpsters that Nudge had sighted, we casually- or as casually as six bird kids and a talking dog get- walked to a diner on a lonely road. It was dark out, and shadows of long, spidery shafts of buildings loomed over the street. How charming. A little paint, some curtains, and it'd be a real Street of Dreams! A quick 360 revealed that the only people were an elderly couple pushing a baby stroller, some punk skater kids on their boards, and a couple middle-aged women inside the diner. I grabbed Angel's hand and pulled her protectively towards me. I saw Fang do the same with Gazzy. Hey, we might be paranoid, but at least we're not going to be a torte a la birdkids any time soon. I shivered when a sharp, frigid wind blew through the little ghost town and tugged the zipper on my windbreaker up to my chin.

Right before we got to the door of the diner, I turned around and looked at the flock. "Okay, guys, remember. No funny stuff. We are here for one purpose and one purpose only. And that is-"

"Bomb!" Gazzy shouted. I gritted my teeth together and gave him my patented Max glare.

"Gazzy, if you or Iggy make, set off, or so much as think about bombs in there, so help me, I will-"

"No, Max," Gazzy's eyes were wide. "Bomb!"

All of a sudden, a huge boom! split my eardrums and everyone was tossed-actually it was more like hurled- from the sidewalk to across the street and into one of the old buildings. All I was thinking during the whole episode was Itex. Dust filled the night air and coated my throat. I picked myself up from where the explosion had slammed me into a brick wall and winced at the pain in my knee. Trying hard not to hobble but not put too much weight on my knee, I managed to cough out, "Report!"

"I'm alright," I heard Nudge choke out through the dust. Nudge. Check.

"Well, I'm going to need some serious pampering after this, but for the most part, I'm in one piece. I was wondering, if it would be possible for us to take a spa day, all this flying and fighting can really take it out of a dog…" Well, at least we know Total's still the same. Darn.

"Same here, minus the whole spa day thing." Iggy. Check.

"Okey dokey, artichokey." Checkmark for Gazzy.

That leaves two more. "Fang! Angel!" I called out, my voice scratchy, trying to peer through the silty air.

No answer. I started digging through piles of bricks and debris.

"Fang! Angel!"

"Max?" A small, hoarse voice called, sounding on the verge of tears. Angel. Thank God.

"Angel! Keep talking!" I cried, frantically pushing aside chunks of mortar and plaster. "Nudge, Ig, Gazzy, if you're in good enough shape, get your butts over here and help me!"

But they were already digging through one of the larger mounds of debris. A small swell of pride came through me. That's my flock.

I heard Angel choking and coughing. "Max!" She called. She sounded closer.

"I'm here, baby, just keep talking to me!"

"Max," she started, but then gagged on some dust and started coughing again.

Okay. We know Angel's alright…Fang.

"Angel," I cried frantically, . "Is Fang with you?"

"Yes," came the small voice. "But I think there's something wrong with him, Max. He won't move and the thoughts I'm getting from him are all dark and sad like he's in pain."

My heart dropped. Oh, no. Not Fang. Oh my…

"Angel!" I bellowed, now plowing through the piles with renewed energy, ignoring the pain in my knee. "Keep! Talking!"

"Okay, Max. My name is Angel. I'm six years old and I have wings. My best friend's name is Total. He is black and has soft fur…" That's my little trooper.

Finally, after mountains of dirty rubble, we found them. I grabbed Angel and swept her up in a hug. "Max," she choked out, trying not to cry. I don't blame her. I was going a bit misty-eyed myself. Then I put her down, and turned to Fang. Good lord. He looked like death itself. Underneath all the silty dust, his face had gone ashen. A huge piece of brick and mortar had been crushing his foot, and now it was turned in an odd angle. His whole body, even his dark hair, was grey from the dust, with cuts here and there, and the overall effect was a ghostly appearance. Weirdly, though, there were no cuts or injuries to his face. I knelt down beside Iggy, who was skimming Fang's body with his long fingers, trying to figure out the extent of the injuries, and yanked the backpack I had forgotten I still had off my shoulders. Pulling out articles of clothing, not pausing to process what they were, I proceeded to rip them into strips and had Nudge help me bandage up his bigger gashes. After doing the best we could for all the major injuries(except his foot—we'd have to get Mom to help us with that one), we flew for about three hours, with Iggy and I supporting Fang, Nudge carrying Total in her backpack, and Gazzy and Angel leaning on each other sleepily before landing in a forest-y