.:chapter nine:.
"Don't you get it? There's no hope! It's the writing on the wall, Fang."
Max stalked the room, throwing random clothes into a backpack. The flock obediently packed their own belongings into their bags, remaining invisible as possible under her radiant rage. Furiously she tipped her bag upside down and picked out the essential items to put back in.
"You don't know for sure."
Coldly, she glared at him. "Oh, I know. Look at us. The only people who want us are the experimental scientists, or people who want something from us. If not that, those people will end up interfering with our happiness. Look at the examples – Jeb, Anne, the Griffiths, my mom. I've lost all faith."
She swung the bag onto her back almost violently. "We're freaks, Fang. To the world, we're not people, we're things. And don't you ever forget it."
His face hardened. Later she would wonder if she had struck a chord, pushed too far. At that moment she was too full of fury, despair and betrayal to care.
With a determined flick of her hair she marched out to the high-rise apartment balcony to be followed promptly by the rest of the Flock.
"U and A, guys. Let's leave this hellhole."
