Authors Note: Sorry for not updating sooner. I had a volleyball tournament . . . And now before I drop dead of fatigue, I'll update.

Chapter Twenty One

- Impossible -

I was all stealth.

Nothing in the world could stop me as I crept forward, my feet moving effortlessly across the slick, tiled halls. My every movement was like a whisper, almost impossible to discern. I slid here and there, crouching in the shadows every chance I had. I was like a ghost.

Up ahead there was a door, open so that the slightest sliver of light could be seen creeping out; it's branchlike strands stretching as far as it could reach, grasping for a victim that it wouldn't receive. With my destination in clear sight my knees bent even further and my breath stilled to almost complete silence. I was so close to everything I needed. I didn't want to give it away at the last second.

Locked inside that room would be drawer full upon drawer full of precious documents. Stacks of file cabinets containing numbers and secret codes. All that stuff I could figure out later. What I really needed was the valuable information it entailed about six certain specimens.

This time I would succeed.

Or not, I thought as I jackknifed up in my bed, gasping for air. I shivered, grasping blindly in the dark for my blanket. At some point during the night I must have kicked it off the bed. Once I had finally located it, I wrapped myself up in a cocoon. Maybe, if I wished hard enough, and fell asleep fast enough, that dream would resume itself, and I could figure out what was on the other side of that door.

With a sigh my eyelids fluttered shut once more and I drifted away . . .

- }{ -

"Are you alright?" Alison asked worriedly, staring at me in concern.

"Huh?" I asked in confusion, unsure of what I was doing that would elicit such an emotion from her.

"You look kind of pale, and there are bags under your eyes. Did you not sleep well last night?"

"Oh, that . . . I just had a weird dream is all. I woke up a lot after that," I explained, thinking back to the strange activities I had been entertaining in my dream world. Things like it kept popping up when I fell asleep. There wasn't any pattern I could see, and they were never recurring. They all seemed to have a cryptic message though, something I knew I needed to figure out, but couldn't.

"Should I be worried?"

"No, I'm sure it's just . . . growing pains," I lied, even though I didn't actually believe she would buy it in the first place.

"Have you talked to your doctor about it at all?" she inquired after a moment of thought.

"You expect me to step foot in a hospital?" I scoffed.

"What's wrong with hospitals?"

"What is this, twenty questions!" I exclaimed in frustration.

Alison rolled her eyes. "What's wrong with hospitals?" she pressed on.

"Ugh, I don't know. I've hated them ever since I can remember. Maybe it was waking up in the hospital and my mind being this one huge blank. A traumatizing experience or something like that. I just don't like the antiseptic smell, and the white halls. What I especially hate though, are the white coats the doctors wear. I don't know why, but it makes me shudder to see them," I whispered.

Alison just sat and stared at me, with an expressionless look that could rival Cam's, but not quite.

"And now you probably think I'm crazy," I muttered.

She smiled wryly. "It's a bit late to figure that out, don't you think?"

"It's never too late, Al . . . It's never too late."

- }{ -

I walked like a zombie, dead yet still alive, down the long corridor. White flashed all around me, the light from the frequent fluorescent bulbs blinding in their piercing intensity.

I passed windows- large plates of glass set into the walls. When I came upon one I would turn my head slowly and peer inside, almost mechanically. Gruesome deeds were at work there. I saw children, mutated and disfigured; whimpering and crying out for consolation. I saw scientists too. Men and women in white coats, drawing blood and injecting the experiments (because that's what they were, that much I could tell) with who knows what. I witnessed back breaking tests at work. I watched the blood pouring out of wounds mingle with the sweat of exertion.

It was horrifying.

Finally, after what seemed like ages of skipping down Torture Street, I came to a dead end. All that was there was a piece of paper, tacked to the wall. Written on it in a spidery hand was one word . . .

Fang.

Fang, Fang, Fang, Fang, Fang.

That was all I could think about. The name, though how I knew almost instinctively that it was so I couldn't tell you, infiltrated every particle of my mind. Yet another cryptic message to add to my ever growing pile of puzzle pieces I had yet to solve.

Fang.

I rolled out of bed, glancing at the clock as I went. It read 1:37 . . . Brilliant. I wanted to just turn back around and fight for sleep, but I knew it wasn't going to come. I was too wound up. My mind was buzzing with this newest feat, and I couldn't shake the feeling that I was closing in on something extremely important.

I stumbled over to my desk, fumbling for the smooth surface of my laptop. When my hand came in contact with cool metal I slid my fingers along the edge until I found enough purchase to lift it open. The screen idled before hissing to life. I was blinded momentarily by the sudden brightness before I became accustomed to the shine.

I pulled up Google, because you're not cool if you don't use Google. Screw that other thing they came up with. I guess I'm just old fashioned that way, though . . . Unsure of my next move I simply decided on typing in 'Fang'. I waited for a moment to see what would happen. As the screen loaded in the first option I got was, oddly enough, something titled 'Fang's Blog'. With no other leads, I might as well check it out, right?

I scrolled through, just skimming. After awhile though, I couldn't stop myself from reading whole entries.

It was by some guy, around fourteen named Fang. He was pretty much what most would consider a runaway; him and his five other 'family' members. The only difference was, according to him, they were all -well- mutant bird kids. Apparently they had escaped from some place called 'the School', where they had been experimented on for years until they had escaped. Ever since then they had been on the run, hopping around from place to place saving the world, which was what their leaders supposed destiny was . . .

Their leader named Max, who also just so happened to be female.

For a moment, my breath got caught in my throat and my heart ceased beating completely. The coincidences were too uncanny! There was Max, the strong, defensive leader. By the way Fang described her . . . I couldn't help but automatically associate her with me.

Then Nudge, the overly talkative, fashion obsessed one. Did is seem so weird that I compared her with everything I knew about Monique Carson, whose home had burned down two years ago? During the fire a falling beam had knocked her out cold . . . also causing her to lose her memory.

Next Iggy; tall, blind, and a bomb expert. His personality melded with Jamie's so well . . . and now that I think about it, I think James mentioned in passing that two years ago he had fallen out of a tree and lost both his memory and sight.

Angel, who seemed so sweet and caring from what Fang had written, but could be feisty all the same. Then there was the name coincidence as well. How many Angel's could there be that were so similar?

And the Gasman, with his . . . uh, digestive problem that was a perfect match for Carter's. There was also the fact that Gazzy was Iggy's pyromaniac assistant, just like Carter was Jamie's. From what I had gathered from their vague descriptions, Angel and Gazzy had both been in some sort of accident that affected their memory . . . two years ago.

Finally there was Fang himself, who appeared to me to be just like Cam. I knew something had happened to Cam's memory too, I just didn't know what. The only fact I knew for sure was that it happened two years ago.

All in all, we have the similarities in character, plus the fact that we all lost our memory around the same time. For the first time I was able to put two pieces of the puzzle together.

We were connected.

With a feverish pace I quickly clicked my way back to the latest post. I glanced at the date and almost fell out of my chair. Without a pause I printed it out, followed by getting a few clean sheets of paper and writing some information down . . .

This was huge.

- }{ -

"Cam . . . Cam!" I hissed, running up behind him when I was sure no one was around. I noted that we were in the hallway outside of Biology. At the present moment, the area was deserted, which was lucky for me.

"Max? What's wrong!" Cam exclaimed when he saw my harried expression.

"I'm fine, I just- I have to show you something," I breathed, knowing my face was probably slightly red from excitement.

"Can't it wait until later? I'm going to be late for class," he replied.

"And since when has that ever been an issue?" I asked doubtfully, pursing my lips.

He paused for a moment before nodding in consent. "You're right."

"Come with me," I said, ducking into an empty classroom. He followed dutifully, and after making sure no one had seen I pulled the blind down and strode over to a cluster of desks.

"Are you going to explain to me what's gotten into you?" Cam asked, a smirk on his face.

In reply I flung out all my papers, sorting them out so they all laid in a row; each one visible.

"What is this?" Cam inquired curiously, picking up a random sheet and studying it.

"Look at all this! These people, they-" I went on to explain all about what I had learned from Fang's blog.

After I finished Cam was completely silent. I found my shoulders dropping. For some reason, I had expected him to get excited. Instead, he refused to meet my gaze.

Finally though, he broke the silence. "And what exactly are you getting at?"

"I . . . well . . . don't you think it's just the slightest bit coincidental?"

"Sure, I guess. I still don't understand what you mean by it though . . ."

I just stared at him, unsure of the words I needed to say to make him understand.

"You don't . . . You don't actually think these people, these so called 'mutants', are us . . . do you?" Cam asked slowly and carefully, as if I was much to fragile to handle what sounded like an accusation.

"I . . . uh . . . It . . . It makes sense though! I know it sounds crazy, and you probably think I'm insane, but I can't shake this feeling that this discovery is important! I know there's something more to the picture . . . I've always known there was something more. And now I finally think I've found it," I insisted, trying to explain in a way that would make him believe me.

"It's a nice thought, Max; and I want to remember my past just like you do . . . but this theory of yours . . . It's impossible," he said softly, putting a hand on my shoulder. I shrugged it of bitterly.

He didn't believe me.

"Look, I'm sorry bu-"

"No! You look! The similarities are almost facts. I woke up in the hospital August fifth. Fang's last blog post was the day before. When did you open your eyes to a blank mind?" I demanded, almost hysterical.

"August fifth," he admitted.

"Exactly! I asked the others, and they all said the same date. Tell me it's impossible now."

"Okay, I can see where you're coming from there. There's just one little detail though."

"What!" I exclaimed, throwing my hands up in the air in frustration. Why wouldn't he just accept it!

This time he put both hands on my shoulders, forcing me to look straight at him. I gazed into those penetrating dark eyes, frozen. "We don't have wings, Max. None of us do."

"Well yeah, but . . ." I muttered, confused.

"I'm sorry," he murmured comfortingly, but I stepped away from him, turning my back.

"Why can't you just believe me?" I whispered.

"It's not that I don't want to believe you. I do. You don't have any idea how much. And I know you have the right intentions, it's just-"

"You don't believe me," I finished with the words he wouldn't be able to make himself say.

"Stop that!"

"Stop what?"

"Don't make it seem like I'm the bad guy here. I'm not."

"Whatever, Fa- Cam," I muttered.

We stood there in silence, until once again he was forced to break it.

"I should be getting to class."

I made no reply, and so he brushed past me with another murmured apology. I listened to his footsteps until they vanished down the hallway. Once I was sure he wasn't going to return I whirled around with a vengeful cry. With one swipe of my arm I knocked all the papers to the ground, watching with tears in my eyes as they fluttered to the earth, scattering all across the tile. Maybe he was right . . . maybe all my hope was without reason.

Maybe it was all impossible.

Authors Note: Okay, so the thing about Fang's Blog being the first thing to come up when I put in 'Fang' is true. Maybe because I research Maximum Ride so much . . . but still, it's pretty cool. Anyway, REVIEW!