3

After eating a meager breakfast of a few slices of bacon and a handful of scrambled eggs, I decided that a shopping trip was necessary. By 'shopping', of course, I meant 'scrounging around for stuff we could afford' or 'shoplifting' or 'digging through dumpsters'.

Jeb had left us about ten thousand dollars in cash, but keep in mind that he disappeared five years ago. And I mean, we mutants eat a lot. Flying burns calories like nothing else-plus, our metabolisms work at hyper-drive. We probably live on a four- or five-thousand calorie diet, yet I'm thin as a stick (no Weight Watchers crap for me!). So with the cost of food and everything...I generally try not to spend too much on other stuff. But kids are kids and kids want what they want, something I've never quite understood seeing as my entire childhood was spent in a cage and my only desires were for food and freedom. Unfortunately, the advent of the Internet and TV (provided for free thanks to some cool techy stuff we stole from the School when we broke out) has only fueled Gazzy and Nudge and Angel's desires for things, and I know they try not to ask for much, but on the rare occasion when they do, I grit my teeth and freak out.

"Stop freaking out," Fang said quietly as we stood around impatiently waiting for Nudge to pick out some cheap clothes, Angel to pick out a cheap stuffed animal, and Gazzy and Iggy to pick out some cheap hairspray. Well, maybe I was the only one freaking out, since Fang seemed as chill as ever. Even though we were all wearing windbreakers and our wings were concealed, I'm über paranoid around people. And Walmart was crowded. Must be the crappy economy (take that, Washington).

"I'm not freaking out," I unconvincingly hissed at Fang, my foot tapping against the shopping cart.

He gave me a look that said, Sure, sure, and then casually stepped a little closer to me. "Kids are kids, Max. Sometimes you just gotta cave in."

"I did cave in," I practically growled. I snapped my head around when a fat old lady rudely shoved by and I was opening my mouth to loudly tell her off when Fang nudged me and shook his head.

"You need to relax," he said, dark eyes fathomless as always. "Not everyone is out to get us."

A bark of laughter escaped me. "Guilty until proven otherwise, Fang."

"In America, it's innocent until proven guilty," Fang muttered as Gazzy rushed up to us with an armful of aerosol cans.

"Iggy's got some more," Gazzy breathlessly said before sprinting off again. I looked at the pile of cans and all I saw was money draining out of my jeans pocket. I groaned again.

Fang reassuringly put his hand on my arm. "We'll manage, Max. Just this once." He left his hand there and for some reason this made me nervous. Why? I didn't know. It was just...lately, I'd started to notice things about Fang. Like how he had transformed from a skinny beanpole who was shorter than me to a tall, well-built (like...really well-built) teenage boy. Like how his brows furrowed in concentration whenever he was reading something on the laptop. Like how each time he smiled the world seemed a little brighter (yeah, yeah, cliché much?) But really...Fang was my best friend and my right-wing man but now...what's that expression? Like, I felt like I had butterflies in my stomach. Ugh.

As if able to read my mind, Fang cleared his throat and suddenly seemed a little unsure. "Max, I..."

Just then, there was a loud boom! and people started to scream from the other side of the store. Fang and I automatically went into fight-or-flight mode. "You round up the Flock," I tersely said to him. "I'll figure out what the hell's going on." Because the only likely reason a random Walmart would be bombed was because we were there (we're so special, ya know?).

He nodded back and we set off. "Angel's over there near the stuffed animals, I think," I yelled and pointed down an aisle. Fang turned to the right and began sprinting down that aisle. I continued heading to the center of the action while my mind reeled to all the possibilities-the School? New evil villains? Jeb? Gazzy/Iggy? (I swear, if it was Gazzy and/or Iggy...they would rather be dead when I was finished with them.)

"Nudge! Iggy!" I heard Fang calling. I put on more speed. Another boom! and I began running into people who were running away from the threat.

"Lady, get out of here!" A balding Walmart employee shouted at me as he sprinted by.

I shook my head-though I doubt he saw it-and concentrated on shoving the panicked people aside. Move it, move it, move it!

"Max!" Someone was calling my name. I whipped my head around. "Max!"

Just then, yet another boom, and this time I felt the blast. Almost there.

"Max!"

"What?" I shouted, but then I skidded to a stop.

The shelves on at least two aisles had collapsed outward, scattering their contents everywhere. I was treading on what appeared to be school supplies-like, packets of paper and pencils and calculators.

For some reason, that sent a chill up my spine. School supplies...

In the center of the mess were three large craters-presumably where the bombs had impacted. I glanced up to see three holes in the ceiling, with scattered bits of piping and insulation poking out.

And a manila envelope was neatly lying right where I could see it. How convenient. God, I knew this mess tied into me somehow. I'm a frickin' trouble magnet.

I carefully picked my way over and grabbed the envelope. 'MAX' was scrawled on the front in crude red letters.

When I flipped it over, the seal on the back nearly gave me a heart attack.

The School.

Of course, it was just then that another bomb decided to drop from the sky. Brilliant.

A/N: Reading and reviewing will save puppies everywhere.