Disclaimer: I do not own any Maximum Ride characters.
Max's P.O.V.
I woke up, for once, not to the sound of a slamming door. Confused, I squeezed my eyes shut, tightening my mouth into a straight line. This had to be a dream, because nothing like this could ever happen. I could never wake up peacefully, and unharmed.
"Max? Are you awake?" A voice filtered into my head.
I opened my eyes and blinked. The boy was beside me, pressing against the crate bars. I looked him in the eye, and then smiled. He had survived. He didn't die on the first day, but now how long would he last?
He placed a hand on my back, pulling me awkwardly into a sitting position. Not easy when you have to maneuver through two sets of bars. I smiled a little and nodded at him. Then I noticed the bags under his eyes.
"Did you stay up all night?" I asked.
"I was keeping watch for you," he said shrugging, like it was no big deal. And it probably wasn't, to him. But for me, for some reason, it was unfair.
My eyes widened, and my mouth fell open. "But you hardly know me."
He shrugged again, and then leaned back against his crate bars, crossing his arms and shutting his eyes.
"You go to sleep now, and I'll take watch," I ordered.
The corner of his lips lifted up, but he didn't respond. I leaned back, on my side, against the crate bars that were closest to him. I surveyed the room.
There was a door to the right, windows on the left, and only our two crates. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.
After a few hours of trying to keep my eyes open, the door opened. Let me tell you, my eyes shot open really fast. I looked to the right, finding and zoning in on one of the mean people. He walked over to the boy's crate.
"Well, too bad we have to wake up it. It looks so peaceful when it's asleep." He smiled evilly, telling me that waking up that boy was not a real problem to him.
"No! Let him be . . . take me instead," I said.
The mean person turned to me, and then shrugged. He unlatched my crate and I crawled out. He grabbed my arm, and then dragged me through the door and down the hallway.
Fang's P.O.V.
I woke with a start, sitting up so fast I banged my head on the crate bars in front of me. I winced and touched my hand to my forehead. That was going to leave a bruise.
Then a thought hit my newly bruised head. Where is Max?
I widely looked around. She wasn't in her crate, or in the room. Did she escape without me? I felt my stomach harden, and then drop. I looked at her crate again, looking at the lock. It was still in one piece, not torn to pieces, like it would have been if she did escape.
So that meant that she was taken, probably for tests. My blood boiled, and I clenched my fists. Whoever brought her back was going to wish they had had the day off.
"Ahhhhhhhhh—" a voice screamed.
My blood went cold. That wasn't just anyone screaming, that was Max screaming.
I hurled myself against the crate bars, trying to tip it over, or break it, or anything, just to get to her. Doesn't work to well when you're only four and weigh, like, 40 pounds.
"Max," I yelled, hoping she could hear me. Hoping she would know that I was here, waiting for her, and that everything was going to be okay.
I glanced around the room for something to use to break that lock. There, a stick, right out of my reach. Trying anyway, I reached my arm through the bars, my finger tips grazing the stick.
"Oh, come on," I whispered, desperately reaching my arm further. "Work, work!"
"Ahhhhhhhh."
That scream scared me, knowing it was Max again, but what scared me ever more, was the silence that followed. It scared me enough to jerk my hand forward and grab the stick.
Smiling triumphantly, happy to win the battle with the stick, I pulled it back in.
Okay now that I had it, how could I use it to break open that stupid lock? Banging it against it, really hard? I tried just that, to no prevail.
Okay, what if I stuck it in the lock hole, like a key? I tried that, missing the lock many times, before I finally hit the right spot. I turned the lock, only for the stick to slip out.
"Come on, you piece of junk, work. Max needs me." With one finale turn to lock opened. I yanked the stick out and pushed opened the crate door. I threw away the stick, first thinking I could use it as a weapon, and then realizing that if I could fit it into a lock key hole, it wouldn't do much damaged. Finally free, I raced towards the door, opened it, and ran down the hall in search of Max.
Max's P.O.V.
I was taken to a white room, with white floors, beds, walls and people. There was a table on the far side of the bed with metal sharp pointy things on it.
My eyes widened and glued themselves onto that table, even when I was placed on the bed.
Someone touched my shoulder, and I tore my eyes away from that table and up to the eyes of a brown haired man.
"This is going to hurt, so you need to take this needle. In it is a liquid that makes the pain go away, okay?" he said.
Did he think I was stupid? I shook my head no.
He sighed and stood up, then motioned with his hand for another mean person to come over. He came and took my arms, holding them down so he could strap them easily.
Not on my watch he won't. I struggled with all my might, but being only four, at was not much. In the end, I was strapped down to the table, looking up into the brown haired guy's eyes.
Who was this guy? And what was he going to do to me?
Hi, hope that was okay, little fun to write, got bored and stopped halfway through!
