Okay. A LOT has happened to me since the last update. I totaled my car, had a few competitions, and lost a "friend" over texts because of something TOTALLY UNRELATED to her in any way shape or form.
ANYWAYS…I've read FANG now so…I've gone ahead and started writing a PREQUAL TO MISSING. It's called "Searching".
Chapter 25
"Throw him in cell 44," a young male said, handing the clipboard to an older female.
The female scanned the pages of coded data, pushing black curls out of her face, and furrowed her brows. "I think I'm reading this wrong," she muttered.
"You're not," a deep voice stated next to her, startling her. His arms, too thick with muscle for the average scientist, were crossed over his chest and a deep scowl was on his face as he watched his subordinates place the experiment in a room.
"What?"
"Back when I was an intern, Subject 5 was slated for extermination. That was before him and several other experiments escaped," the first male said.
"Why?" the female asked.
"He's useless. He's blind," the second said.
"Then why keep him in a cell at all?"
"Because, Susan Miller," a voice said from the door. "We've developed a new procedure."
"Oh?" all three questioned in unison.
"And what is that?" the second male asked, smirking. Word of this scientist, Jeb Batchelder, and his amazing failures had gotten around the School.
Jeb reached over and took the clipboard from Susan. "Well, Keith, back when he was here the first time, we attempted to enhance his vision, but ended up frying the optic nerve. Or so we thought. While he was…away, we created computerized eyes. But when he was 14, we had the chance to really observe the damage."
"So it was a mistake, thinking the optic nerve was shot?" the first male asked, eyes narrowed.
"Exactly. What is going to happen in the surgery today is we will replace several parts of the retina and the lens." Jeb handed the clipboard back to Susan.
"And what if you fail?" Keith asked, his deep voice colored with his doubt.
"Well, he's already blind. What else could happen?"
--x--
MPOV
"Sit. Down," Fang said for the seventh time through gritted teeth.
"I have to go—" I tried.
"No," he said slowly and evenly. "You don't. Sit your butt on the couch." I flopped back down onto the sofa with an angry huff and crossed my arms, glaring at the side of Fang's face. He sat slouched next to me, arms crossed over his stomach, feet crossed on the coffee table, staring with a blank face at the TV.
I know what you're thinking. The mighty Maximum Ride is taking orders from someone?
Not quite.
Ok, yeah. I was. But trust me when I say I hated every single minute of it. And I didn't fail to let it show.
"I hate you," I grumbled, still glaring.
"No you don't," he said quietly.
"How can you just sit here while Iggy is missing?" I shouted, leaning forward in an attempt to look at him straight-on. "He could be being tortured right now."
"Max," he said. One syllable, my name, hitting me like ice. That tone…he glanced at me out of the corner of his eye, but didn't flinch. Damn.
"How could you throw a member of the flock to the sharks like this?" I yelled.
His mouth twitched down into a frown.
Ka-ching!
"You don't—"
"No," Fang yelled just as loud as I had. "You don't know what will happen if I let you go."
"Oh, and you do?" I asked, lowering my voice a little so we wouldn't scare the kids.
"I do," he whispered, turning back to the TV, his tone surprising me. Wordlessly, he reached out and took my hand, our fingers intertwining and lying between us on the couch. "Just one more day, okay. Just hold out for one more day."
I leaned back into the couch. "It was in the letter?" I guessed. "From the older you?"
He didn't say anything. That was all the reply I needed. I squeezed his hand and sighed.
"We'll leave tomorrow night. Promise."
I nodded in response and slid closer to him.
--x--
The sound of scraping metal jerked Iggy into sudden consciousness, greeted by familiar darkness. He could hear two sets of footsteps, but three different breathing patterns. Two of the three people approached him, each step making him tenser. When he felt hands on him he began to kick and scream. Even from down the hall he could hear them. He knew what they were going to try.
Iggy knew the chances of his survival.
"No!" he yelled, his voice already hoarse.
"We're doing you a favor, kid," a deep voice grunted.
"Let me go!"
"Sedate him," an authoritative voice commanded from the doorway.
"No!" Iggy struggled harder, but the inevitable prick turned his veins to ice. There was no escape. He knew his only escape was miles away, probably at home still, coming up with a plan. Maybe.
--x--
MPOV
I lifted my head gently off the pillow and looked at Fang, making sure he was really asleep. The peaceful look on his face, the long shadows the moon created on his face…I almost wanted to make him come If I knew he wouldn't protest my going at all, that is.
True, Fang had promised we'd go after Iggy tonight, but that was over 12 hours away. Too. Much. Time. And it's not like Fang's promises were actually worth anything, considering the biggest promise he'd made to me, the one that had meant the most to me, was that he'd never leave me.
Yeah. We all know how that went.
I slid out of the bed, thankful I didn't weigh enough to seriously shake the mattress. Pausing to make sure Fang didn't wake I turned toward the window and simultaneously opened this window, while leaning down the grab my shoes; I'd put them on outside and a ways away from the house. But when I straightened up and had one foot out the window, a hand clamped down on my wrist and jerked me back inside. I whipped my head around to see who had me, but no one was there.
Sorry it's so short. I'm going to need suggestions for what happens to Iggy since I know a few of my readers are huge fans. So tell me what you'd like to see happen and I'll see what I can do. :D
Also, I've gone ahead and started writing a PREQUAL TO MISSING. It's called "Searching". You DO NOT have to read it for Missing to make sense since Missing was written FIRST. Searching is just the stuff between FANG and what happens in this fanfic.