Hey guys. This is the last Max POV for a while. It's becuz I wanna remain what they do to her a surprise…

This is a kinda boring chapter, but the next chapter isn't…

Disclaimer: I don't own Maximum Ride. You don't own Maximum Ride.

Max's POV

"Subject number…" the man in the white coat looked at his clipboard as he paced slowly down the aisle of dog crates, unfortunately stopping in front of mine.

Please, please let him just have a leg cramp or something!

"Subject number 7?" My stomach flopped. That was my number. "Subject number seven it is time for 'training'." I made a face in disgust. Pff, 'training". More like 'abuse."

"First off, I have a name. And that name is Max," I began angrily, looking at him through the metal wires of the cage, "And if you do not call me by said name, I will not respond to said asshole."

The whitecoat kicked the front of my crate, making my frail, starved body fling backwards. He snickered, sticking a white sticky note on my crate.

"I guess it's time for testing too, vermin," He opened the door and let me out of my cage, for the first time in weeks. He put a collar around my neck, and I figured it was electrical. He guided me down a long, cold, white, hallway, and the smell of antiseptic filling my body and bringing old memories of this place flooding back.

Shots, blood tests, mazes, experiments.

We stopped at the very last door in the row. It was wooden, brown, and had "Dr. Batchelder" written on the top.

Jeb opened the door, looking like he was pleased to see me.

I threw myself at him, wrapping my hands as tightly around his neck as tightly I could, my body practically shaking with anger.

The collar went off, sending me to the ground along with Jeb.

I started kicking and screaming, so infuriated and fed up with these whitecoats. Two burly men came in, immediately tying back my hands and feet.

The one whitecoat still stood at the door, taking notes on his clipboard. Pressing the red button on the remote, occasionally.

I bucked, trying not to let them get a hold of me, but I only had so much strength. And it eventually went out.

Jeb shooed the men and the whitecoat out after I was tied up and lifted me to the table, shaking his head.

Angry tears squeezed out of my eyes as I contemplated what he would do next.

Sedate me?

Abuse me?

Send Ari to kill me again?

He finally stopped, putting his hands behind his back and leaning on the surgery table.

"You've gotten weaker, Max," He said disappointedly, shaking his head.

"Oh course I have! I only get a freaking cheese cube and an apple a day and sit around, barely able to move in those suck-ass dog crates you and your 'buddies' shut me into! What do you expect, a freaking MuscleMax?" I shot him a death glare, wrinkling my nose in disgust at him.

He ignored me, and started pacing again, writing down something on the chart.

"You ready to start intense training?" He came up, all smiling at me lovingly. "Max, you can do so much in this world. SO much. But only if you let us help you, okay?"

"Let you help me to my death. Which is fine, because I'd rather be dead than be here" I tried to struggle free of the cords holding me down, and he shook his head and transferred me to a wheelchair, strapping my arms and legs in as tightly as he could.

I wanted to punch him in the face so, so bad. So bad it hurt. Almost as badly as it would hurt when I was finished punching him and kicked him where the sun don't shine. No more kids to experiment on for him, the little…. rggg. I growled to myself, imagining what I would do to all these whitecoats if I had the chance.

He pushed me through the swingy white doors into an exercise room.

There were treadmills, mazes, weight chairs, aerobic mats, medical equipment, evil, mad scientists- you name it. The more tortuous, the more plentiful.

He started at the arm holders, using a little key in his pocket to open one, then the other, and then did my legs. He helped pull me up and onto the treadmill, sprinkling the tiniest drop of water on my tongue before starting it up.

I started running.

I ran for a long time.

Every breath scraped against my raw throat as I threw my legs out numbly in front of me, my arms swinging clumsily at my side. I panted, making wheezing sounds and squeezed against the handle bar in front of me to keep from falling.

Finally, after what seemed like a lifetime, Jeb slowed it down.

I collapsed as soon as it stopped.

He wrote something down on his clipboard, looking down at me on the rubbery, rough floor of the treadmill, shaking his head occasionally and then scribbling something else.

"See you at 10am sharp tomorrow, sweetie?" He smiled, looking up from his notes and tucking the clipboard under his arm.

I sure hope not.

I hope you liked this chapter even if it was a little boring. Please review! Even if you didn't like it. Thank you!

-Hope