Okay, so this story is starting out really crappy. I'm not great at action scenes, which is exactly why i started this. Ever asked yourself, what if Iggy got lost? Well, even if you haven't I'm gonna tell you. So listen up. ((It'll get better, i swear))


I twisted my head around frantically, my eyes rolling uselessly in their sockets. I listened for anything and everything; the scraping of worn sneakers, the slightest rustle of feathers, that weird noise Gazzy sometimes made to discreetly tell me exactly where he was.

Okay, so the streets of Saint Louis aren't that easy to get lost in. Not like New York, at least. So then what the hell happened? One minute, I was being tugged along by Fang's belt loop, tuning out Nudge's incessant chattering, and now they were gone! Vanished! Poof!

I had already freaking combed this chunk of street, and now had a pretty good mental picture of this place. So I hadn't all the way lost my bearings, but I still didn't know where the frick I was.

I got tired of bumping into people, so, shakily, I pressed myself to a wall, making a loud, high-pitched whistle, so short and sharp that I could only feel a few pairs of eyes burning questioning looks into me. I trained my ears, listening hard for any reply. Nothing.

Shit!

I felt around the window I was pressed against, tracing my fingers across the almost indiscernible outlines of plastic letters. I felt around for a while before determining that this was Elle and Marion's antiquities. Useless.

I pushed myself from the wall and in a split-second decision I was barreling down the street. Which, believe, me, wasn't the smartest thing to do seeing as I'm already really noticeable. But I was freaking out big time, and I think I deserve some slack.

Eventually, I came to grass. Okay, bad grammar, I get it.

I stepped onto the soft turf, my mind whirring with the information I had gathered from all of this. Okay, so I'm in Saint Louis, Missouri. I'm alone and very noticeable, and extremely jittery. Do we have a meeting point set up? No, of course not. Nobody expects me to get lost. I'm too smart for that.

I felt my way to a tree and slid down the bark to sit on the lumpy roots. It must have been a very large tree.

My head snapped up as I heard the slight crackling of dead nature on a path, and I grabbed the chance. The lightweight stepping pattern told me that it was either a woman jogging or a man with a lot of problems.

"Hey, lady, where am I?" I called, sitting up.

The steps slowed, and I heard her adjusting her headphones. Hasn't she ever heard of earbuds?

"Uh, this is Forest Park." The woman called back, sounding confused, and I waved my thanks. She left, and I instantly flew into my own little world of panic and brilliant logic.

Okay, so Forest Park was the site of the 1904 Saint Louis World's Fair, and is one and a half times as big as Central park in New York. It is approximately 1,293 acres and encompasses the zoo, the art museum, and the science center.

I sat there, trying to make something out of this useless information. All that I cared about right now was that it was bigger than Central park, and apparently I had been able to run there from town.

I stood, deciding that I should get a feel for where I was. As I walked, I hummed the shit, I'm lost! Song, which I had just made up, thanks very much.

Okay, you know what? This officially marks the point in time when I stopped using that phrase 'a walk in the park'. You know why? Cuz this park is freaking huge, and I'm freaking blind. And everyone else freaking just stares at me while I amble around, humming slightly and staring straight ahead. How do I know? I can freaking feel it, stupid.

Freaking.

I wandered around aimlessly, not entirely sure what to do with myself now that my flock was gone. Remember that time I freaked out about how if I ever lost the flock, I would be lost beyond what they could comprehend?

It took all I had not to do an up-and-away right there and fly low over the whole city so that they would see me eventually. I was desperate.

At one point, I slid to my knees, moments from frustrated tears, and threw back my head. I let out a really freakish, horror-movie-like wail and shuddered with dry sobs.

"Aw, look. The freak's crying!" A low gravelly voice rang from behind me, and I whipped to face Ari. I sprang to my feet, determined his position, and lunged.

"Not the best time for this!" I hissed as I landed a punch to his meaty chest, making Ari stagger back.

In a second, there were Erasers all over me, like piranhas. I screeched with pain as one sank his teeth into my arm and another put me into a headlock. I twisted out of it, whirling to kick it in with a satisfying crack! to the head.

I heard someone rip something out of a backpack, and within milliseconds, I was on the ground, numb and shocked.

I could feel the needle in my side. It must have pierced something it shouldn't have, because there was mucho laughter at my dispense; the kind that came from doing something inexplicably evil and having fun doing it.

My lungs felt like lead, and I couldn't tell whether I actually said anything when I mouthed the words "Ass-hole".

A huge boot pressed into my head, caking me with mud and wet grass. I tried to spit the bloody grass from my mouth, but nothing happened.

"Night-night, loser." Ari said, his voice thick with blood and splintering like ice. I winced as he stepped harder on me, and then I was out.