Disclaimer: Collaborating with my partner in crime to devise a plan to kidnap Iggy that won't involve me ending up in hospital like last time. Namely, one where I don't have to face an angry Gazzy. Or Max. Oh, Jesus, not Fang again. Angel is scary when she's mad – her eyes are like blue shards of ice, ready to pierce your heart without remorse…
xxxxx
"No, Max!" Gazzy shouted at the screen, looking for all the world like a normal boy shouting at the television, perhaps watching a game of football. It was a far cry from the truth. "You idiot, you fucking idiot!"
None of his friends, who were really more like his family, bothered to rebuke the eight year old for his cussing. Similar thoughts were running through their own heads.
Leaping up, a dark eyed boy turned to the oldest girl. "Can't I go back in there? I could stop it – take her away somewhere…"
The girl looked sad. "No, Fang. You know the link needs to recharge overnight. It needs at least seven and a half hours before it can be used again."
Fang subsided, returning to his seat. A small blonde girl looked up at him sadly, reaching out and placing a tiny hand on his forearm. Fang flinched at the contact, then relaxed, dark eyes flicking to the girl, then returning to the screen.
"Sorry, Fang," the strawberry blond spoke up from the corner, voice contrite. His sightless eyes were staring at the floor, his hands twisting themselves into intricate knots in his lap.
"S'all right, Ig," the dark haired boy said softly, knowing the blow Iggy's pride would have taken, apologising to him.
Nothing more was said.
The quintet watched and, in one case, waited, in agonised suspense as the blonde girl inside the screen that they were staring fixatedly at reached the top of the stairs. Though none of them would admit it, they felt a morbid curiosity for what was to come, although given the chance; they would all do anything they could to prevent what was to occur from happening.
…
Max's temper was threatening to explode from the tight bonds she had tied it with. Instead of going red, her face had turned a deathly pale, an odd characteristic of hers. Fist carefully slack, shoulders determinedly relaxed and enunciating each step with precision, she stalked to her room. Her private room, which was apparently being invaded by an obnoxious, persistent, annoying, ignorant –
"Sam?" Max asked quizzically, furious thoughts stopped in their tracks. She'd opened the door, vision hazy with rage, which perhaps was a little out of proportion to the situation. An odd sight had greeted her. Sam was standing rigidly in the centre of her haven, shoulders taught, arms clenched painfully to his side. At the sound of her voice, his head twitched to the side, shoulder coming up to meet it.
Now, Max wasn't a girl to get scared easily, what with all the crazy, unexplainable visions she'd been experiencing, not to mention the agonisingly painful brain attacks. But this was a situation that instilled a paralysing fear within her, freezing her limbs, rooting her to the spot. It occurred to her that she should, perhaps, call out to her mother, who was blissfully whiling away time in the kitchen.
Max couldn't even pinpoint what exactly had inspired this terror. Her wide blue eyes scrutinised the still, yet not still form before her. Yes, Max thought, definitely the twitching. That really scares the shit out of me.
"Close the door, Max." the figure's voice crept across the room, slimy and mildly threatening. Max was reluctant to label this person as Sam, the boy who'd been one of her closest friends since before she could remember. This predatory voice had nothing to do with the sweet and innocent kid she'd loved as a brother.
Movements jerky and stilted, Max stepped forwards and closed the door softly behind her.
…
Meanwhile, in the computer room, the five kids were each singing their own symphony of despair in their minds. Angel, unfortunately, was privy to all of them, and the strain was plain to see on her small, young face. She'd latched onto Gazzy's arm with the strength of a crocodile's jaws, and had no intentions of letting go. Fang had allowed Nudge to bury her face in his shoulder, secretly glad for the comfort, and the reassurance that someone was feeling just as horrified and useless as he was. Iggy could see nothing, and his mind tormented him with scenarios of what could be unfolding upon the screen. He did not ask the others what was happening, and the others did not offer. He could, however, hear everything that was said in clear detail. He deduced that nothing violent had happened as yet. The sound of Sam's voice made him flinch with disgust. It also struck a memory within him.
"That – that voice," he said hoarsely, voice grating with stress. His revulsion at his sudden epiphany was written all over his face.
The other three said nothing, and then Angel, reading each of their minds, spoke for them. "We know," she said, voice tremulous and small.
…
"Sam?" Max forced the word out from her trembling lips. Why were they trembling? All the guy had done so far was ask her … politely … to close the door. She watched the boy closely, debating whether to reach towards him, and try to help him through whatever was bothering him, or wrench open the door again, and run screaming to her mother. She was swinging slightly towards the first option, fear influencing her thinking, and then her rebellious teenaged attitude kicked in. She was Maxine Williams. She did not need her mother to do everything for her. She didn't realise how much she'd regret allowing her foolish pride to cloud her decisions.
"Sam, are you okay? Do you need a doctor? You're … twitching." Max forced the quivery shake from her voice, pulling herself into mobility. She hesitantly stepped forwards, stretching out a slightly shaking hand. Steeling herself, she placed it on the boy's shoulder.
Sam jerked spasmodically, hand shooting out impossibly fast to grip her wrist with unbelievable strength.
Max gasped in pain. She could almost feel the delicate bones in her arm buckling under the pressure. Tears sprung inadvertently to her eyes, a reflexive response to the pain. Oh, this was wrong. Since when was Sam ever this strong?
She tugged at her arm, hoping to dislodge Sam's vicelike grip on her wrist. With almost inhuman speed, Sam whipped around, his face suddenly inches away from hers.
The grotesque mask that greeted Max was shocking. Sam's face seemed to be a mass of motion. It was trembling furiously, with an energy that was completely abhorrent to Max. She forced herself not to gag, or flinch away. Her blue eyes remained steady, and she opened her mouth to speak. She did not expect Sam to leap at the opportunity, pressing his convulsing face to hers, thrusting his tongue between her parted lips. Max gagged. She was filled with disgust at the sensation of the slimy, wet muscle invading her mouth.
Shuddering, she gathered herself and shoved her attacker away from her, coughing and gasping.
"What the fuck?" she panted, backing away from the boy, eyes wide. She'd never seen this in Sam before – the aggression and violence. It was completely alien to her. Glancing up at 'Sam', she stopped. There was agonising conflict showing in his eyes, as if there were two parts to him, warring against the other. He growled, one part obviously overpowering the other. She wasn't sure whether to be glad the twitching had stilled, or worried at which side of him had gained dominance.
Shivering, Max moved towards the door, obviously rethinking her two options, choosing the other. But her decision had been made. It was already too late.
…
There was a deathly silence in the room, punctuated only by Angel's soft sobbing. Four pairs of eyes were wide with horror, unable to tear their gazes away from the screen. Iggy was slumped in his corner, hands fisted over his ears, tears running down his cheeks. He had heard Max's gasp of pain, the sounds of her choking in disgust. Nudge was silently stifling her cries, face muffled by Fang's shoulder. Gazzy and Fang didn't cry. Gazzy had to be strong for Max. She'd always called him her 'little trooper', and he wasn't going to let her down.
He wrapped his small arms around the shaking form of his younger sister, offering the only comfort he could give.
Fang's dark eyes were blank, his face expressionless. He had radiated fury and desperation before, but all the fight had gone out of him when that creature had touched Max. There was nothing he could do, and it was useless to rail against the hopeless. He watched impassively, ignoring the part of his mind that was crying endlessly, shoving it away. His face gave no sign of his inner torment.
…
Max had put up a fight. Of course, it had done nothing for her. She'd uttered a forlorn plea for help as he overpowered her, knowing even as she released the sound it would do her no good. Her mother would hear nothing, in her delightful stupor as she worked in the kitchen, with the radio turned up loud. There was no one to hear her, no one to help.
"Nick…" she had moaned as Sam snapped one of her fingers to encourage her silence, biting back a scream as she heard the crunch of bone. She was unaware of how it made the said boy tense in his plastic chair. She didn't know the almost unbearable pain it caused him, to know that Maximum Ride, Maxine Williams, had finally admitted weakness and called to him for help, and he was unable to be there for her. How could she?
Sam's eyes were furious with jealousy. "Max," he cooed. "I don't want to hurt you. I want you to be happy,"
Max had struggled, common sense overridden by panic. The monster's face had fell into a frightening frown, features taking on a wolfish appeal. He raised a hand that was looking more clawed by the second and slapped her viciously across the face.
"Don't struggle," he snapped, eyes alight with rage, and also ... desperate affection?
His face had relaxed, the faint appearance of a wolf banished, becoming serene and almost childlike, the desire and lust that had filled his eyes gone. He was straddling her legs, hands holding her arms down. His eyes gazed down at her, an oxymoron of crazed intensity and gentleness.
Max's jaw ached from the blow he had dealt her, stunned with the power he was able to summon. Her snapped finger ached with a fierce intensity. Worst of all, though, was the deep unease Sam's unwavering stare provoked within her. She decided she wasn't going to stay there any longer, underneath this obviously troubled boy. Gathering herself, she shifted slightly, and then sharply brought her knee up into Sam's groin.
He gasped and fell off her. Max seized the opportunity, leaping to her feet, and turning raggedly towards the door. Stumbling, her breath coming in sobbing gasps, Max reached the door, thrusting out a hand to grab the handle. She hadn't anticipated the speed of Sam's recovery, and was taken by surprise when a hand shot out, grabbing her ankle. The fingers were like rods of steel, and she could feel them imprinting bruises into her flawless flesh.
The hand tugged, pulling her to the ground. She fell heavily, slamming her head on the door.
"You bitch," Sam snarled angrily, face beginning to elongate. Max watched in soundless horror as a snout and jaws sprouted forth from his previously human face. Sam laughed. It was not a happy sound. "You'll pay, Max." he said, threats sounding juvenile and immature, but terrifying nonetheless. "You're gonna be so sorry…"
Max snapped her eyes shut as the first fist flew towards her face. It cracked into her nose, drawing instant blood. She cried out, hands rising up to protect herself. Sam growled and shoved them down, letting loose another fist.
Thud.
Thud.
Crack.
Max felt something snap. By this time, the pain was fading slightly, to be replaced by a dull detachment. It was as if she was floating loose from the sensation, all Earthly ties being severed. She was aware of the blood dripping from her face, staining her clothes, and coating Sam's bruised knuckles. Dimly, she was aware of him standing up and drawing a booted foot back to kick her viciously in the ribs.
…
Angel had stopped watching. She had now pressed her face into Gazzy's arm and was showing no signs of emerging. Nudge had left in tears to direct Iggy to the bathroom. Despite being able to see nothing, the sounds he could hear so much more sharply than his friends had brought on a horrible nausea. Only Fang and Gazzy were left watching, staring fixatedly at the screen and their faces were pallid with horror.
"Max," Gazzy whimpered, reaching out to the screen. His eyes were filled with tears, but he refused to let them spill. Fang watched, face as emotionless as ever, but despite his cool façade, a single tear tracked its way down his dark cheek. He had slumped his head into his hands, dark hair covering most of his face, dark eyes not once leaving the prone and bloody figure of Max.
Suddenly, the screen began to lose focus. The sound cut off, and Max's soft sobs could no longer be heard. The pixels began to fade, one by one, blinking out like stars disappearing from the sky.
"Nudge!" Fang called out in panic, eyes wide. He watched in terror as Max's image began to disintegrate from the screen, reaching out a trembling hand as if he could somehow hold her there. A message blinked onto the screen.
Technical Difficulties.
"W-what's happening?" Gazzy asked, turning his haggard face to Fang. Fang shook his head wordlessly, calling again for Nudge.
Torn, he stared first at the flashing screen, then at the door. "Stay here," he said to Gazzy. "Call me if anything changes."
The Gasman nodded solemnly, explaining the situation in hushed tones to Angel. The blonde girl's tears hadn't halted, and her blue eyes focused desperately on her brother as if he was her lifeline.
Fang left the room at full sprint, running through the deserted white hallways, skidding around a corner. He barely noticed where he was going, mind replaying the image of Max's blood covered figure over and over in his mind. Glancing up, he slowed just enough not to knock over the two figures he had run into. "Nudge," he gasped, "You have to come,"
Nudge didn't ask questions, only tugged Iggy's arm, indicating that he should run too and set off back towards the computer room.
"What happened?" Iggy asked, his face etched with worry.
"The computer cut out. Something happened."
They reached the computer room, all three balking slightly at the eerie green glow that illuminated the cold space. Frowning, Nudge hurried to the computer, firing questions at Gazzy as her fingers spread like spiders across the keys. Nodding her head, she frowned in concentration, tapping in passwords and codes. Fang, Iggy and Gazzy waited in agonised suspense, knowing not to interrupt the girl. Angel was studying Nudge intently, following her process. Finally Nudge sighed and sat back.
"The whitecoats intervened." she said, rubbing a hand across her brow. "Apparently, it wasn't their plan for Sam to be such a complete psycho. I traced Sam's digital code back, and it looks like he was corrupted someone entering the system. In the same way you did," she said, directing the statement at Fang, "except that they didn't have me there to create a profile for them in the system. Instead, they used an already existing one."
Her listeners nodded as if they understood. Nudge sighed.
"The problem with this is that this is an extremely detailed simulation. People have their own distinct personality. Most of them are real people, such as Sam and Lissa, and have been programmed to act almost exactly as they would in real life. This causes problems if someone broadcasts himself or herself into one of these Sims. It's like having two people in one body. Both have their own natures that are impossible to ignore. Sam was able to cope with another set of characteristics for a while, as he's quite flexible. But the outsider apparently doesn't take well to rejection. This violence spiked from Sam's sadness from when Max turned him down. I'd say the other side of Sam, the corrupted part, took over. Sam never would've usually done something like that…"
The others were silent, processing the information. "So what did the whitecoats do?" Gazzy asked.
"It seems they destroyed or removed the intruder, and managed to undo what happened."
"So Max isn't half dead, now?" Iggy asked bluntly.
"No. But due to Max not being part of the original system, she'll retain her memories of the encounter; just have nothing to show for it. Depending on how good their computer guy is she might be able to feel her injuries. That's unlikely, though, seeing as they managed to make this whole thing… It's pretty complicated."
Iggy nodded. "I'll take your word for it," he said. "So Max is okay?"
"Physically, yeah."
Relieved smiles abounded in the room. Fang's face, however, remained blank. Max would still remember. He couldn't rejoice in this, knowing the mental torture she'd be going through.
"So who was the outsider?" Gazzy asked.
"Your guess is as good as mine," Nudge shrugged. "The traits and thought patterns seemed awfully familiar, though…" her voice trailed off. Then she brightened. "The monitor should be back on soon, when the whitecoats have finished removing all traces of corruption from the system. I'm surprised they didn't notice it sooner. That's good, though, I guess. We wouldn't want them to find out about us…"
The Flock chatted happily, doing their best to forget about the trauma they'd just experienced. Fang stayed where he was, not joining in. He stared at the blank screen, waiting for Max to appear again.
xxxxx
A/N – Oh, yuck. That was horrible. Sorry if the switching view was too confusing, or anything. I originally didn't have the little dots there to separate the two settings, but reading back through, I myself got lost, so I thought I'd put them in there.
Despite the fact it all just flowed from my fingertips, I'm not satisfied with this. I mean, I said everything I wanted to, glossed over the more bloody and violent parts, but … gah! Ah, well. Close enough to what I want. So it'll do. For now.
Thank God for Nudge's computer abilities, though. Makes it easy to explain myself.
And, oh, my God!! Chapter one – oh!! Number 10!! Double digits!! Wow!!
Reviews…
Ali – No, I'm glad for your nit-picking. I've always had difficult with POVs. I probably did even worse with them this chapter. Next chapter I'll look up what third person and omniscient is, and try to keep it all in line. I really should've listened in English this year… Verbs are something I've always understood. I like verbs. Thanks so much for your review – both the amazing compliments and the advice on the POVs.
nudge343 – I … I'm flattered, honestly. But I wouldn't feel right, taking a plot you thought up yourself and writing it. I think that it'll be way more fulfilling for you if you write it out. You'll get there eventually ;D
MRACR – 2 months! Okay, yeah, self-esteem went up a bit there. Mine was only a week or something. Iggy. Yeah, funny, I was actually going to have a line in there where Fang shouts at Iggy about him going into the damn computer and doing a better job, but I thought better of it. Not really Fang's style, I don't think. Maybe Nudge could've screamed it at him. I love Nudge. Oh, and I've recruited you now as my 'partner in crime'. We'll steal Iggy. You can have him on Mondays, Thursdays and Sundays.
WRITE NOW – Lol, of course you were mentioned. I can't just not reply to a review. Glad to see you didn't think the last chapter was too horrible. Thanks for reading, and – look! I wrote fastly!
So, thanks y'all for reading. Looks like we're nearing the beginning of the end. I think. What do you think? ( that was a tactfully, subtly discreet way to ask you to review. Be thankful I'm too worn out from writing all this to threaten you with death or horrible maiming. )