A/N: Just had thought; was it just me, or when you picture Fang, he always has dark hair? Because he's actually got blond/ tan/ brown hair hasn't he? From that complete makeover thing they had in New York…
August
It was quiet, in the library. Even without my super-hearing, I would have still been able to pinpoint exactly, to the millimetre, where that mouse was that had just snuffled. Behind me, approximately a metre and a half to my left. I just knew that Iggy would be enjoying the heck out of this; he sitting, almost as statue-like as I was, listening to every scrape of a chair, every murmured conversation being conducted, forging an invisible map of his surroundings.
Either that or he was just sitting really, really still for the pure hell of it.
The noise of the others was getting to me, so I rose and wandered off, ambling aimlessly through tunnels coated in bookshelves until a heading for a bookcase caught my eye.
DIETS & BALANCED EATING PATTERNS.
Just what I needed. For the last week or so, I'd been doing what I though was a good idea, but really I didn't have a clue; now I could see what I should be doing from these. I snatched a promisingly covered one and sat down, on impulse selecting another random book from a shelf to put in front of it; Max would, no doubt freak- like she always did- if she thought I, a fourteen-year-old boy was reading a book on diets. Yeah, well, I'm not exactly high on the normal side of male teenagers; but I couldn't quite pinpoint what it was about me- the wings? The fact that I wasn't completely human? That I grew up in a dog crate? Or, hey, why not all three?!
Anyway, back to reading.
October
Roughly twenty minutes later, the others got back. Max didn't look at me whilst she took off into the air, refusing to speak to anybody. We ended up –you guessed it- at another library; much to do with Iggy refusing to shut up about how great they were, and Nudge stating- loudly- that she was hungry, again. We landed, got something to eat and headed to the nearest quiet-looking building we found, which- much by coincidence (though Angel looked suspiciously satisfied) turned out to be a library. Iggy was overjoyed, and Max admitted that she'd wanted to research Itex some more anyway. So smiles all round for the Library.
Insides, I drifted off as quickly as I could without attracting Max's attention, and roamed around, waiting for something to catch my attention.
Half an hour later, Max called us all together; I rose stiffly, my head ringing slightly with all the new stuff I'd absorbed from some random book I'd plucked off the shelf when the scowling receptionist had started to look like she wanted to give me a lecture on the expectances of a library. Hey, not been to school once in fourteen – possibly more than that- years; I had to start learning stuff sometime. I just didn't think there was so much of it that I didn't know- I mean, sure, who needs to know how to ask a Spanish person where the train station is, but you do kinda need to now how to multiply- and it was all catching up with me now. Yay for me.
"So, here's the deal," Max began, lowering her voice as somebody brushed past us, oblivious- I hoped- to our whispering group. "We can lounge around NY for a couple of days, rest up, then split somewhere else, the Voice is AWOL, so we're free to do whatever we want without it butting in." like she ever took orders from it when it was there. Max is like that- she's fourteen, yet she's already grown-up really; she's stubborn as a mule (a feathery, human-looking mule)- she gives the orders and others follow them; under no circumstances is it any other way.
She got agreement in various levels of enthusiasm from everybody- a curt nod from me- and turned away, satisfied, to gather our things.
I stiffened.
Slight, almost imperceptible noises were rolling towards me; the miniscule click of a door sliding back into the frame; every second or so a tiny thud, where a foot had stepped onto the carpet, the impact absorbed by the wooden boards below…
And the small snarl that I knew so well.
Max looked up as she felt the tension radiating of every part of me; I met her eyes- hers widened slightly then she dipped her chin no more than half a centimetre down to show she understood. All of the past few hours' tension dissipated, to be replaced by a professional coolness that came with post-battle adrenaline.
"Gasman, Nudge, Igg- Iggy?" The fear that had crept into Max's voice made me look up. She was glancing around, confusion and trepidation evident on her face.
Iggy wasn't here.
Before any of us could even looked at each other, the door behind us shattered.
Pieces of wood and metal hurtled towards us- I dropped and covered my head as debris rained down, hitting my body, creating brutal bruises that I could feel already. Hands dragged me roughly to my feet. Hairy, paw-like hands…
I didn't think- there was no time for that (yeah, yeah, I know some people would be like; 'oh, thinking things through always solves the problems' well, they should be hit over the head with something large and preferably heavy.)- I lashed backwards widely, catching something furry on the second swing, hearing a sickening crunch and a yelp, the restraining hands releasing my instantly.
I didn't spare the Eraser a second glance, only stepped over the groaning figure, blood pouring from its nose, and stepped away, catching a second and third with ferocious kicks, sending them sprawling. I glanced around swiftly, digesting the scene.
Max was battling two at once, until a third joined them and she disappeared under flailing wolf-paws, yelling profanities at the top of her lungs; Angel was standing in the centre of the room, making the Erasers that were charging at her turn in mid-run and smash into the walls. Nudge and Gazzy were fighting to my right, their backs pressed together as they blocked blows from four of the wolves.
Iggy still wasn't here.
My mind refused to accept the inevitable- that the Erasers had got him- but before I could do anything else, something heavy hit the small of my back, and I collapsed, instinctively covering my face as I did so.
The Eraser simply sat on my chest, knocking the breath out of me, then crashed his fist into my nose; I felt- however meagre- a small spark of satisfaction as I saw him wince, heard the crack as his knuckles fractured.
I still couldn't breath; black dots were appearing at the edges of my vision, the flurry of flailing fists and legs surrounding me fading into a sluggish background blur; I was acutely aware of every second that slipped by, of every moment my lungs started to burn with lack of oxygen, of the cool, expectant face of the Eraser sitting on me, slowly, exaggeratingly killing me.
My arms felt like lead, I couldn't move them or any other part of my body- my eyelids refused to remain open, and I couldn't summon the energy to fight against them, so in several seconds I was lying in darkness, the crushing weight of the Erasers pressing unrelentingly on my chest.
How long before I gave up and shut down? It was the only thing I could do; create that question. My concentration was already breaking up into a thousand pieces, making it hard for me to think clearly.
Then the weight disappeared, and I was coughing violently, trying to breathe faster than physically possible. Feeling reappeared in my limbs; enough to lift my head and see the Erasers standing over me- his expression detached- but not enough to stop his black army boot swinging forward, catching me in the face and knocking me unconscious, unable to resist the welcoming blackness waiting for me.
I coughed vehemently, tasting blood, and opened my eyes wearily, confused.
My disorientation vanished and I sat up quickly, biting back a hiss of pain as a noticeable aching lanced up my back. I flexed my fingers, already sure of what I would find.
I was right- the rope used to bind my wrist tightly together was coarse and chafed against the thin skin; it was expertly tied and impossible to move my hands apart farther than an inch. I shifted and groaned. Some form of thin metal- steel, perhaps- bound my wings together so tightly they ached, making me long to stretch them out and throw myself off something, letting the wind catch them like sails. But I couldn't.
A slight, barely perceptible movement caused me to glance sideways. My dark eyes met Max's light ones, and I saw that she was bound like me; wings, feet and wrists, some form of white-cloth preventing her from talking. I snorted; these Erasers had obviously met Max and her sense of humour before. Her expression was carefully guarded, but I knew her too well; I could see the fear lingering behind the wall she had put up. I smoothed my expression, making sure Max couldn't see that I felt exactly the same way. She looked at me, and I gave her the half-smile I knew she loved, but I couldn't make it reach my eyes; the fact that the rest of the flock were being held in the iron grip of hate-crazed overgrown dogs several metres away was too much of an axe hanging over my head.
We were surrounded by a dozen Erasers, all wielding impassive black army guns- great; what could be better than a bunch of sadistic idiots chasing us every second of every day? A bunch of sadistic idiots with gunschasing us instead.
Just what I always wanted.
A black, undecorated van was parked in a gap between the furry gun wielders, its back door open, giving us a spectacular view of an empty van interior. I paid it no attention, my eyes flicking rapidly between all the Erasers in my view, their weirdly empty eyes and the black holes of the barrels of the guns aimed at us.
"Max."
Max stiffened next to me, and I could feel the hatred rolling off her. I turned and glared at the man walking slowly towards us, flanked by two black-coated people. Jeb knelt down next to me, and I felt Max leaned away from him, her features carved from the coldest ice.
"Hello sweetheart." He said softly, and I tensed.
"I'm not your sweet anything," She spat at him. "Now back off before I put your head so far through a wall you won't remember what colour the sky is." Jeb seemed to understand and- wisely, I thought- stood and resumed his position between our old chums ter Borcht and Anne Walker.
"You see?" Ter Borcht sniffed haughtily and turned away. "Zey use such childish insults! Failures!"
"How's the head?" Max asked innocently, and he flushed purple. "Has your ego recovered since you were knocked out by a six year old?" I smiled fleetingly as I recalled the startled expression on Borcht's face when he'd been hit over the head by Angel what seemed like months ago. Ter Borcht seemed completely recovered though, and the weird orange/ red colour he'd gone was enough to put me off the colours for life; we examined him curiously, waiting for him to explode in a big blob of puce-coloured mush all over the grass we were sitting on. I winced at the repulsive image.
"You are a huge disappointment," Ter Borcht continued. "You are intelligent"-
"Oh yeah? Ever seen me try to figure out how to finish a puzzle?" Max interrupted.
"Zat is not hard- as I was saying- ."
"Yeah? You try it- not that easy."
Ter Borcht yelled- now slightly more of a congealed cream complexion- "Enough! Terminate zem, Batchelder. You have your orders."
If we'd had dog-ears, they would have pricked up just then. But we didn't, so we had to suffice with looking really, really interested. And confused.
Jeb coughed, obviously uncomfortable. "I don't think that would be wise"- His voice faltered under the icy glare- which, to me, didn't look threatening in the least, I'm just tough that way, I guess- ter Borcht was sending his way.
"Zen I vill do it myself." Ter Borcht turned away, missing the now white face of Jeb Batchelder, and clicked his fingers at the Erasers holding the flock.
They shoved them towards the van, seeming utterly oblivious to their struggles. The flock were thrown into the van, but the doors remained open, their frightened faces looking at me and Max, both of us itching to move but knew we couldn't. Not if we wanted to walk away with our bodies intact anyway.
Please let them put us in the van. I prayed silently. As long as we were with the flock, and we knew they were okay, we could get out. If we were taken somewhere else… Please. In the van.
I was hoisted onto my feet roughly, a gun pressing coldly into the small of my back, where the rope-metal tying my wings was.
"You two are failures," ter Borcht sneered. "You are not needed." He gestured towards the Erasers, and hands dragged me backwards- it was all I could do not to fall flat on my face in the dirt.
That's when I noticed where we were.
On the edge of some sort of ravine or canyon. I couldn't see the bottom, but I could hear quite easily a river somewhere. My head snapped sideways and I locked gazes with Max again.
She knew. Her eyes were wide.
"Max!" I heard Angel's scream as me feet came to rest on the very edge of the rock face. I didn't dare look behind me into the deep expanse of nothingness. Angel's face filled my vision, white and terrified, so vulnerable in fear.
It remained emblazoned on my retinas as an Eraser slammed into me- barely regaining his balance- as I over-balanced, my foot slipping and suddenly I was surrounded by whistling air, nothing else. The sound of the river growing louder with every second that I plummeted through nothing.