I decided to play it by ear.

"Hi, Kim!" I said cheerfully, "Cleo's told us all about you!"

"She has?" Kim raised an eyebrow, not sure whether to believe me or not.

Suspicious little thing. It kind of made me feel better to know that my paranoia was shared.

"Yep!" I replied, scanning Kim imperceptibly.

Semi-long blond hair that went a half-dozen centimeters past the shoulders, the front of which ended a centimeter or less above innocent yet suspicious eyes, sweet smile that managed to also portray her annoyance at Cleo that many siblings felt for each other (what can I say, most people haven't had to rely on their siblings to save their lives from evil maniacs bent on world domination). Stylish pink shirt with tight sleeves that went halfway down her forearms, V-shaped neckline with a level piece of white material underneath with a frilly edge, and the bottom of the shirt going a few centimeters below the waistline, expanding slightly as it neared the bottom, much like a bell. The front spelled out E.P.I.C. in swirly, purple letters that glittered in the few rays of sunlight that filtered in from outside. Dark blue jeans, also fairly tight, that were the perfect length, ending at her ankles, with a couple of mosaic flowers made from plastic jewels. Trendy open-topped purple shoes (the same shade as the E.P.I.C. on her shirt, I noticed) that fitted her feet fairly snugly. Her whole posture seemed relaxed, like the punks you see hanging around street corners and alleys, only she seemed to carry a confidence that punks didn't have. The confidence of popularity. She was about to lose that real quick.

Jeb had trained me well. I took all this in in less than a second.

"Like," I continued without missing a beat, "You're stylish and artistic, you know what outfits would look just great, all while being original! You love the hardcore band E.P.I.C. And," I added, making a point of looking over her, "I can see that she was right! That outfit looks awesome!"

Kim seemed taken aback for once, and stared at me for a moment, scrutinizing, before accepting my motive as honest and turning to Cleo. Cleo had blushed crimson, probably at the awkwardness of Kim suddenly thinking she was a sweet sister. But Kim misread it as humility and smiled at her.

Nudge and Angel were grinning and mentally Oohing and Ahhing over the sisterly moment. Iggy and Gazzy, on the other hand, were giving me a strange look that wondered if I'd finally snapped and become a total girly girl.

Fang just smirked knowingly.

Kim looked satisfied, and it would have been a nice moment if she hadn't happened to glance past me to the body on the floor. Her eyes widened and her smile faded, turning to surprise and then horror.

"Wha??" she gasped, looking first a Cleo, then at me, then back to Cleo.

Cleo's face switched amazingly fast from bright red to pale. If the situation hadn't been so somber I would have laughed.

"Uh..." I coughed, "That's...um..."

"A stalker," Fang said coolly.

"Riiiiight," I agreed, "He snuck inside but Fang here," I motioned to Fang, "Knocked him on the head," I nodded convincingly.

Kim blinked, still staring at the body, "His neck looks crooked..."

"It does?" Iggy asked, "I wondered what that crack wa..."

"It's just a trick of the light," I interrupted.

"That's the most horrible thing I've ever seen!" Kim said in a disturbed voice.

"Yeah? Well, don't go into the living room," Nudge said helpfully.

I narrowed my eyes at her as Kim walked toward the door to the living room, naturally intent on seeing whatever was restricted.

"Actually," I said, moving in her way, "There's nothing in there."

"Then why can't I look?"

I pondered this for a moment, "Okay, so there is something in there. And you shouldn't see it."

"I want to," she said stubbornly.

"Not a good idea," Fang said, "Right, Cleo?"

We looked at Cleo, who stood zombie-like.

"Right, Cleo?"I prodded.

"Huh?? What?? Oh, of course! Definitely!" she said, still shaken.

"See?" I said, "Nothing to see in there. Now..."

"Well, well, well," a woman's cold voice said from the living room.

Before I could move, Kim darted around me and through the door.

I looked at Fang with exasperation as I hurried through the door behind Kim. He shrugged.

I turned and barely stopped short of hitting Kim, who was stopped dead in her tracks, staring at her dead father, the blood starting to pool around him, soaking into the carpet.

Get out of there, Max.

I ignored my Voice.

Yeah, you heard me right, my Voice. What, you don't have one?

"Well," the woman's cold voice said again.

I looked up to see a middle-aged woman standing on the other side of the room, a cold look on her face that matched her voice.

"Mom!" Kim and Cleo said in unison.

They ran forward, beginning to let out all the tears they'd been holding in. They tried to pull their mother into an embrace, but she shrugged them off.

"I've touched you enough, filthy freaks," she muttered. Then, seemingly to herself, "And Don had it coming to him, too, sympathizing with the merchandise like that," she shook her head, "Pity, I liked working with him at the beginning, back when he knew where his loyalties lie."

She looked up, as if noticing that me and my flock where standing there for the first time.

"And you," she narrowed her eyes, "You'll be very sorry you came to see Cleo and Kim today."

"Why's that?" I asked, doing a very good impersonation of a scared Popular.

I could tell I was convincing from the muffled snickers coming from Iggy and Gazzy's direction.

"Because you've seen too much," Cleo's "mom" replied coolly, enjoying the knowledge she thought was her's exclusively.

"What do you mean?" I asked, carefully making my voice shake, "Someone just came in here and killed Mister--"

"That's not his name!!" she interrupted, a vein pulsing in her neck.

I cringed, as did Cleo and Kim. Only they were genuinely terrified.

Max, get out. Now.

Shut up, Voice, I'm on a roll here. I don't have time for your vague and sketchy wisdom.

"Well, whoever he was," I said, "We need to call 112!" I started toward the kitchen, from where we'd come. I hadn't seen a phone in there, but there was probably one somewhere.

"I don't think so," Pseudomom said, pulling out a gun.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Fang's eye twitch. The weapon was out in the open. Now we knew exactly where it was.

I widened my eyes, "What do you have a gun for??" I squeaked as Nudge and Kim whimpered convincingly.

"There will be a man here any moment to collect the merchandise. And you, since you happened to be here," she smiled arrogantly with a Nothing-Can-Stop-Me-Now look.

"Was he, by any chance, tall and bald?" I asked, "Because he shot himself in there," I pointed to the kitchen.

Pseudomom's eye twitched, momentarily uncertain.

"I think it was something Mister...well...he said," gestured toward Cleo's dead "father".

"You're lying," but she didn't look quite as sure of herself.

"Max!" Gazzy hissed, tapping my shoulder.

"Not now!" I hissed back without changing my posture or facial expression.

"Move aside!" Pseudomom ordered, "Don't make me use this," she gestured to the gun.

"No, don't!" I said with alarm, "We'll move!" and skittered aside from the door, my flock following behind me.

Cleo and Kim sat frozen, but I narrowed my eyes at them slightly and they hurried over to join us.

Pseudomom walked stiffly toward the kitchen, finally disappearing through the doorway.

"Max!" Gazzy hissed again.

"What is it?!" I asked irritably.

"I smell combustibles! And it's not me!" he added before I could ask.

"And...?" I asked.

"They're about to combust!" he said, wide-eyed.

I jerked involuntarily. Gazzy knows these things.

"How bad?"

"Fifty meter radius if..."

"How long?" I interrupted, anxiety starting to flood my veins with adrenaline.

"Now," he whispered.

"Follow me!" I said, and, trying not to let my worry show, running toward the kitchen.

Inside, Pseudomom was standing over her fallen comrade.

"He wasn't shot," she said angrily, "He was attacke--"

"Yeah, I know," I said, quickly knocking the gun out of her hand and across the floor, "Sorry, no time to chat."

I scooped her up in my arms and ran outside I spread my wings and continued running until I lifted off the ground. I looked down at Pseudomom in my arms in allowed myself a small amount of satisfaction at the shocked look on her face. I looked over my shoulder and saw Gazzy, Nudge, and Angel lifting off. Fang scooped up Cleo and Iggy Kim and they were right behind the younger three. I flew over the house behind Cleo's and was above the street when the explosion went off.

I heard it first, a crashing boom so loud I didn't think I'd get through it with my hearing intact. Jeb had trained me never to show pain outwardly. It showed weakness and gave the other side the advantage. So I just tensed my muscles and waited for it to pass. A second before it did, however, the shock wave hit and I was thrown through the air at several times my normal flying speed, tumbling head over heels. Somehow I managed to hang on to Cleo and Kim's "mom" through it the chaos. Finally the extremely painful noise ended and I heard my flock yelling/screaming, depending on gender, from the pain.

It was the best sound I'd ever heard.

Then the shock wave came to a stop and I attempted to find the sky in the flying mass of bird- and fish-kids, one pseudomom, and a tangle of houses, streets, well manicured lawns, swimming pools, and a few dozen other things.

Say, I thought, look at that huge swimming pool down there.

Er...I mean...look at that sky down there! I had started falling up.

Not good.

I untangled my wings and managed to right myself, straining my wing muscles as the air resistance slowed my descent, if somewhat painfully.

I looked around for my flock.

Angel and Gazzy had hung onto each other and had managed to stay upright most of the time. Fang was carrying a scared Cleo, whose face contrasted Fang's own, which suggested that he had been doing nothing but a leisurely stroll What? Dead bodies? Evil scientists? Exploding houses? Not him.

Nudge gave Iggy some directions and he pulled up as well, an equally scared Kim clinging desperately to his neck.

"Hey, guys!" Gazzy called, "There's some guy with a rifle on the ground! Uh-oh, he's pointing it...DUCK!!"

I immediately tucked in my wings and tried to make myself as small a target as possible.

Would we never be free of danger?

But even as I brought my head down toward my chest, my legs up in front of me, and my arms in as close as I could while holding an average-sized adult, I heard the crack of the gun and knew I was too late.

I felt a searing pain in my arm and gasped involuntarily from the pain. But the bullet kept going, its path leading it up through Pseudomom's jaw straight into her brain. Her face gaped silently before she collapsed in my arms.

Dead.

They could never leave possible witnesses, I thought bitterly.

"He...he's gone now," Gazzy said, sounding both weak and relieved.

We were over the ocean now, and taking one last look at the mislead woman in my arms, I relinquished my hold and let her fall toward the water several hundred yards below us.

"Max?!" Nudge said in surprise and horror as Cleo and Kim gasped, "Wha...?"

"She's gone, too," I said flatly.

It took a moment for that to sink in.

Then I heard Kim start to cry in Iggy's arms.

"She wasn't your mother," Fang said in his quiet voice, "It wasn't her fault. She didn't know what she was doing."

I could tell his words helped Cleo and Kim, although they were still going to have grief issues.

Then I decided. This was it. It was one thing for us, who had grown up in the School, knowing we were experiments. Knowing we were unwanted.

But letting these girls think that they had loving parents, friends, a normal life. My anger for the School and its Whitecoats that I had banished so long ago suddenly came flooding back. Before I had been able to do nothing against the School. I had been doing well to survive and help my flock do the same.

But now.

Now I could do something.

"Let's go," I said, venom in my voice, eyes narrowed.

"Where?" Fang asked from beside me, still holding Cleo.

I flapped my wings and soared forward, where the ocean spread out flat below me, going on past the horizon.

"Mako Island."