This is another two-fer chapter! Things are rapidly picking up speed and after this chapter are going to be full of action-packed drama-y goodness! Thank you to all of those who have followed and added this story to their favorites list! I'd like to give a special thanks to MissMintCoffeeMocha for being on the only person to review the last chapter! It means a lot to me.
XOXO,
Girlreadsalot
Chapter Nine
The sun is just climbing over the tops of the trees when we landed in the back yard of my mom's house.
Neither of us had spoken a single word on our flight back home. We were too busy trying to get there as fast as we could.
I threw open the door to the boys' room. The pungent odor of B.O., body spray, and a weird smell that was strictly unique to a boy's locker room wafted out at me. "Get up. Meet me in the kitchen in three minutes or else."
I didn't stick around to see them crawl out of bed. I opened up my bedroom door and woke up the girls.
"What is it, Max?" Angel asked with a sleepy yawn.
I'll explain once everybody's together downstairs, I thought at her, but hurry up, it's important.
Five minutes later, a sleepy flock (my mom and Ella included) were gathered around the kitchen table. They were all still very tired and in their pajamas.
Dylan was missing his stupid shirt, revealing his well-toned and rather dreamy chest. Nudge's hair was more out of control and wild than usual, Gazzy had sleep in his eyes and was practically dozing back off where he sat, and Angel stared at me expectantly, while I waited to talk.
"What are we doing up so early?" Iggy grumbled.
There was no easy way to say it. I just had to come right out with it. "The Ninety-Nine Percent Plan is in effect."
"Well," he shot up, "I'm going back to bed. Wake me up with less terrible news."
"Sit!"
Once the initial shock was over and I had everybody's attention again, I started to speak again. "I guess other people are calling it Croatoan but whatever we call it, it's nasty. It attacks the blood, then causes some sort of damage to the brain or something. When I saw Mark I didn't exactly ask him how he lost hhis mind."
"Mark?" Dylan asked.
"You know, Mark from the Doomsday Group?"
Recognition flickered through the Gasman's blue eyes and he pressed his lips into a hard line. Mark had tried to kill him and nearly had killed Angel.
"We had a pleasant run in with him last night. He was infected and it made him," I swallowed at the fresh memory of his deathly frail body and his yellowed skin. His boney fingers had dug into my wrist, leaving bruises behind. "It made him crazy. Itex was smart about how they released the virus. They infected animals and let them lose. The animals infected pets and then those pets infected their humans."
I met Nudge's gaze, "The rabbit you guys helped a couple weeks ago was infected."
She jumped up from her seat, nearly hitting Dylan in the head with her wing. "Ew! Oh my god! That thing was infected?! Does that mean I'm infected? Max, what if I'm infected with Croadtoad?!"
"It's Croatoan," Angel corrected her.
"Whatever, that doesn't matter. What matters is if I have it or not!"
"Did it cut you?" Fang asked over my shoulder.
Nudge shook her head, her wild hair flopping back and forth.
"Then you have nothing to worry about. From now on everybody has to be really careful about not getting cuts and not touching anybody's blood." He looked at my mom, "That goes for you too, Dr. Martinez. Especially, because you don't know if the animals you're working with have been infected or not."
She nodded.
"Total, watch your tail too." I added.
His shiny black nose twitched at me and he said, "Of course."
The imminent doom settled over the kitchen like a storm cloud. Nobody spoke for a long time, because what was there to say besides, "Nice going Max. You didn't stop the apocalypse like you were supposed to"?
"Hey, Max?" The Gasman finally asked. He looked at me with hope in his round eyes. "Does this mean we don't have to go to school anymore?"
I groaned and leaned against the counter, rubbing my temples. I didn't know what to say. I was tired, hungry, and growing more irritable by the second.
There was only two weeks left of school and as much as I hated the place, it would be nice to say we went to school for at least a year. Still, I didn't know how to answer that question because if one of the flock got infected by somebody at the school it would be my fault.
I looked at my mom for help.
"There's only two weeks left," she said. "You guys can keep going to school, but if something fishy happens you need to get out of there. Okay?"
I nodded, that sounded reasonable enough. "Stay on red alert constantly," I warned them.
Moans and groans came from various, displeased members of the flock.
Chapter Ten
"YAAAAHHHOOOOOOOOOO!" The Gasman screamed as he shot through the sky, laughing before he went into a dive.
School was finally over for the year and I couldn't be more relieved. No more constantly watching our backs, studying people to make sure they didn't have any exposed cuts or wounds, and most importantly, no more homework.
Even though the virus had been released, hardly any reports of it have been witnessed. There had been a few people infected, all of them had been were in the hospitals. Depending on how severe their stages of the infection were, people died within days or within a week.
I loved the feeling of the warm summer sun on my skin as I soared through the air. The wind whipped through my hair and feathers and smiled…until Dylan came soaring over to me. "What do you want?"
His wings pumped powerfully as he hovered near me. "Max, I was wondering…Sydney is having a bonfire to kick off the summer and she invited us to go."
My first instinct was to tell him no and to get lost until I looked around at the flock and noticed that Iggy was listening and Fang was staring at me waiting for an answer. With the virus being spread, I could see the night heading south rather quickly, but it was just one night and the three of them looked like they really wanted to go.
"Okay," I said, "The four of us older kids can go. I'll see if my mom will keep an eye on the younger three."
Dylan gave me his million-dollar movie star smile, "Thanks! I'll let her know we're coming, then!"
As much as I hated to admit it, I was kind of enjoying myself at Sydney's bonfire.
As it turns out, Sydney's family own a decent sized chunk of property on the lake on the outskirts of town and the fire was flickering on the rocky shore, all of us attendees were sitting on log benches and plastic lawn chairs around it.
It wasn't a big party, just us and a few of Sydney's friends. They sat around sipping their soda, eating their hotdogs and chips, picking on one another and having a fairly good time.
There was plenty to eat, hotdogs, marshmallows, grahm-crackers, and lots of soda. There was no alcohol because Sydney's parents were out of town and they had no way to get any (even though she assured me that if they were, they wouldn't let her have it anyway).
Everybody sitting around the fire seemed to be fairly decent human beings. I knew better than anybody that looks were deceiving, but all of Sydney's friends were harmless from what I could tell. They carried on quiet conversations and one kid even strummed on his guitar. If I remembered correctly his name was Tony.
I was sitting on the rocky ground in front of the log, resting my back against it. Fang sat on the log just to my left and Iggy on his.
Dylan sat on the adjacent one, his arm around Sydney. He seemed to be enjoying himself as well, an easy smile on his face.
Tony was playing his guitar humming softly, and I had to admit that he wasn't that bad at it. Every once in a while, he'd stop to scratch at his leg, then resume the light tune he'd been plucking away at for the past thirty minutes.
I licked marshmallow off my fingers, "You know, I have to admit that this isn't half bad."
Iggy made a sound of agreement before saying, "Yeah, this is kind of fun. Should I tell Tony that his G is a little flat on that thing?"
I shrugged, I hadn't noticed anything about the kid's guitar playing except that he stopped to scratch his leg every few minutes.
Behind me, Fang was tense. He had hardly said anything all night. He was kind of an introvert and would probably rather be home on his blog than being in public pretending to be social.
I twisted around to offer him a burnt marshmallow. "Marsh—"
Fang didn't even look at me, he was too busy staring narrow-eyed at Tony, who was really going to town on that spot on his calf.
I knew what he was getting at immediately, something was wrong.
Before I could ask him what had happened to his leg, Sydney beat me to the punch. "Tony, what's wrong with you? You've been digging your nails into your leg all night."
"I don't know, man." He replied, setting his guitar down and rolling up his pant leg, revealing an angry red and oozing wound. "I was jogging the other day and got bit by a dog. It's itching like hell, I think it might be infected."
The gooey glob of sugary deliciousness I'd swallowed stuck halfway down my throat. I stared at the guitarist, my hackles raising. I turned and looked at Fang as I choked down the rest of the marshmallow.
"Was the dog bleeding?" I asked him.
"I don't know, man. It was just really mean. It was growling and snarling at me, its mouth covered in blood and stuff."
"You didn't think to go to the hospital?" Iggy asked.
Tony's eyes widened as he stared at the cut. "Do you think I have rabies or something?"
That did it. I jumped up, dropping my marshmallow stick in the process. "It's worse than rabies." I looked at the older members of the flock. "We have to go."
"Max, what's going on?" Dylan demanded, his tone annoyed as I stomped away from the bonfire and towards the woods so we could fly off.
"Are you really that stupid? He's infected! He's got Croatoan! We need to get out of here tonight."
Dylan opened and closed his mouth dumbly as he stared at me.
"She's right," Fang said as he unfurled his massive black wings. They looked like shadows in the darkness of the night. "We have to go."
He snapped his mouth shut and with a scowl launched himself into the night sky.
Fang, Iggy, and I didn't hesitate to follow him.
