Hey everybody,
Little intro. I read MR back in middle school and recently rediscovered it. Needless to say, my literary tastes have changed since then. So, upon finishing SOF, I decided to write a FanFic that reflects a direction Patterson could've taken if MR was for an older age group. I took some artistic liberties with the characters (isn't that the point of FanFic?), so I'll list the changes. This FanFic takes place right at the beginning of book 1 and runs as an AU.
Changes I've made:
~Max, Fang, and Iggy are all 17
~Ari is 16
~Nudge is 14
Thanks for reading! R&R's appreciated. ~YeahScience
This day could not have been more perfect.
A playful breeze carried spritzes of earth and berries, making my hair wave lazily. The grass was vibrant and springy beneath my feet. Only a few cotton-ball clouds drifted across the sky, so there was plenty of sun to warm arms and wings. I had let them out to catch a few rays. When I stretched my wings out to their full span, I felt… bigger. Not only physically, but mentally.
What the hell, I thought to myself. In one fluid motion, I kicked off my shoes and sprung into the air. I had to flap, awkwardly and ungracefully, to put the first few yards of distance between me and the ground. The blades of grass bent backwards with each stroke of my powerful wings.
And then I was truly flying.
Fifty feet at first, then a hundred, and I leveled off at about one-fifty. My flock shrunk to small beads below me. I could see Gazzy and Angel's blond heads; they were playing some kind of game, make-believe or something. Every day is a game of make-believe for us. Pretending we're normal. Nonetheless, I felt a deep, resonating pride at their strength, inward and outward. They were my little fledglings. Literally, I guess.
Iggy had splayed himself out alongside Nudge on a gentle slope. The former had his wings spread out wide, although the latter had opted to keep hers folded tight against her back. She had always been trigger shy with her wings. Iggy, on the other hand, embraced his. Right now, his golden feathers reflected the sun's equally brilliant rays all the way up to my eyes.
The sky wrapped its azure sheets about me and I gave into its embrace. I drew a deep breath of the pure Colorado air and felt a cooling sensation throughout my entire body. You know, because of the whole nine air sacs situation. For a split second, I let my eyelids droop and listened to the world with my raptor ears. Below, the siblings' giggles. To the left and right, the soft whisper of wind through my primaries.
I hit a warm air pocket and let it take control of my flying. When I opened my eyes, I was soaring upside down. Immediately, I wobbled unsteadily side to side and "tripped" back into my normal position. My view shifted from sky blue to the familiar grass green. Okay, that was freakin' cool. Note to self: teach that to the Flock later.
Suddenly, there was a dark streak directly in front of me. Instincts seized control of my muscles and I turned into a dart, rocketing towards the ground with my wings curled around my body for protection. Sweat glazed my palms and the back of my neck, and my already rapid heart had doubled its rate. Dammit, Max, this is what happens when you get lax. Is it Erasers? A thread in my heart snapped when I thought to Gazzy and Angel playing a few seconds ago.
A quick glance to my pursuer nearly caused me to scream. With frustration, not fear.
"Fang, what the hell?" I didn't even bother masking my exasperation. "I thought you were an Eraser." In his suave, Fang-like style, he simply retorted my anger.
"I shaved this morning…"
We simply exchanged glances and dive-bombed downward. The Flock had always made jokes about me and Fang being together. Maybe it was the Yin-Yang, black-white opposite thing we had. I mean, we had it down to the color of our hair. It's not like we hadn't thought about it. But we were… siblings? It seemed like such a strange word for our situation.
On the ground, the rest of the Flock was enjoying a game of tag, buckets of strawberries marking the boundaries of a trampled grass arena. Fang offered a wry smile as we dashed in to join the game. The Gasman snickered as he hovered a few yards over Iggy's head.
"Yes, Gazzy, that does count as cheating," Angel chimed in, reading her brother's mind. "We never said you could fly." My baby's voice was even sweeter than the ripe berry she was gnawing on. Behind her, she flitted her gorgeous, angelic wings. Yeah, Angel was the perfect name for her.
Iggy took advantage of his super sharp hearing and lunged towards Angel. When his fingers grazed her lacy shirt, she squealed with joy. "You got me!" Using her wings for extra power, she whirled around on her feet to triangulate her prey: the rest of the Flock. For a child, she was still pretty damn intense.
"Not so fast!" I shouted as I playfully tackled Angel, scooping her into my arms and rolling in the refreshing grass. Silhouetted against the sky, she seemed to glow. This was the happiest she'd been in- it hurt to think of how long we'd been refugees- a long time. She wrapped her delicate arms around me, squeezing my neck with surprising force. I could barely make out her whisper of, "I love you, Max."
And then, she shrieked. A long, piercing scream that caused my ears to ring. My arms tensed around her as I whipped around to see what had scared her. Behind me, the Flock assumed their defensive positions. Fang slithered into position to my left, Nudge to my right, and Gazzy behind her.
It was an Eraser. The hairs on my arms and the back of my neck stood up and I felt chilled through to my hollow bones, for their was something wrong with this picture, beyond the presence of the Eraser.
Nudge voiced what us older kids were all thinking. "Why is there only one?" She risked a quick glance at me, as if I had the answer. Most of the time I did, but there was no explanation for the lone Eraser in front of us. Like their lupine counterparts, they typically traveled in packs, especially when attacking us.
The Eraser was loping sluggishly toward us. Its bulging arms hung unevenly at its sides, which were heaving. Foam dripped from its open mouth, and its tongue was sliding out. Large patches of hair were missing from its already ragged pelt. There is something seriously wrong with this Eraser. And we're talking about a human-wolf hybrid.
Fang reached into his pocket and opened his menacing switchblade. A gift from Jeb, Fang had always cared deeply for his weapon. When punching just wasn't enough, he whip it out and gut the attacker. The blade itself was 6 inches, about the size of an Eraser's massive canines, and it thirsted for blood.
Iggy spoke up, obviously tense. "What's going on?"
"Eraser," Nudge whispered back. "Just one. It's not acting right." Her voice was level and deliberate, which made me proud.
Angel squirmed out of my arms and landed next to me in the grass. I held her delicate hands in mine, squeezing hard, and guided her behind me. I tried to control my high-strung thoughts; she was undoubtedly reading them.
The Eraser was still stumbling towards us, panting and growling from deep within its rancid throat. Now it was about 15 yards out. Fang slid forward, knife extending gracefully from his hand.
"Fang, what're you-"
"Max, stay where you are."
Normally, I would have kicked his ass for bossing me around. But he was the guy with the knife, and Angel had a death grip on my hand. Nudge's wings peeked out of the back of her shirt, and she had nuzzled into Iggy for protection.
Fang continued his march up to the Eraser. The beast looked up and emitted a sound halfway between a cough and a snarl. Menacing eyes met Fangs', but neither flinched. This whole time, Fang had been slowing unfurling his raven wings. Now they were extended to their fullest, intimidating yet gorgeous. Gazzy shifted his weight from foot to foot as if he was bored. Behind me, Angel peeked out her sweet little face. Nothing had happened.
Yet.
He shot us a quick backwards glance, seemingly asking for permission to attack the Eraser. I shot him a quick nod. Fang turned his head back to the beast, but he was too late.
The Eraser hurled itself at Fang, its monster teeth snapping down on his right wing. Fang shrieked as the paroxysm shot through him. My nucleated blood ran icy; Fang had never made that sound before. In my split second of frozen horror, I saw blood seep out of Fang's wing, saturating his shirt and dripping into a puddle in the grass. His knees buckled and the Eraser seized the opportunity to knock him flat on his back.
"STAY BACK!" I screamed at the rest of the Flock as I leapt towards Fang, who was pinned under the Eraser. Its teeth flashed in a rabid fury, desperately trying to sneak another bite of Fang. He was weakly trying to fight off the mutant freak, but with each bite the teeth came closer and closer to his face. Hang on, Fang.
With a running start, I got airborne and threw my entire body into the Eraser. It yelped pitifully as my bones reverberated in my hollow body. With the Eraser splayed out on the ground, panting from the pain, I snatched Fang's knife and drove it deep into the beast's furry chest. It roared, spraying foul spittle across my face. The knife slipped out of my hands from the warm, crimson liquid glazed my fingers.
My chest heaved, deep and rapid, blood roaring in my ears. As I felt the Eraser's life slip away, I stared deep into its crazed eyes. The light faded from them, and its body convulsed one last time before collapsing into a pitiful sack of fur and muscle beneath me.
Once I was sure that this piece of crap was dead, I sprinted to Fang. I found him kneeling with his wings slumped behind him. His feathers were dripping with the blood seeping from his wing. And it was bad. The Eraser had taken a massive bite of his right wing's elbow. Around the ragged wound, several feathers were missing, and a flap of skin dangled loosely.
"Holy crap, are you okay?" I yelled, resting my hands on his shoulders. Fang grimaced.
"No…" he hissed through gritted teeth. With a groan and some help from me, he managed to stand. Shakily, of course. The rest of the Flock came running over, shouting questions.
"Guys, shut the hell up," I growled. Fang needed help STAT. We didn't have time for 20 Questions.
"We gotta help him," Nudge said with utmost urgency. "Stop the bleeding." Iggy wriggled out of his shirt, handing it to me so that I could apply pressure to the wound. Fang scrunched up his face as the shirt's fibers grazed the gash. He's my strong warrior.
Thankfully, the bleeding was beginning to subside. Fang was still terribly weak and shaken up. His skin was pale, his fingers shaking.
"I don'… think I can… fly…" The words barely slipped out of his mouth. There was no breath to them.
"You're gonna have to try," I replied. I swiveled my head around, surveying the Flocks' faces. Each one was paralyzed with fear and anxiety. Angel even had a single tear dangling on her eyelashes. The Gasman was trembling gently, holding his sister's hand. Nudge was chewing on her nails. Iggy shifted nervously from foot to foot.
"Up and away," I barked.