Chapter 32
(Fang's P.O.V.)
I felt bad. Max looked like she was going to fall apart, with her wingbeats slow and lethagic. I swooped down on her and tackled her from behind in midair. She gasped, realizing what was happening, and snapped out of it. Sorta. She really burst into horrified sobs and clung to my hand.
After what seemed like a while, she let go and drifted off. She had that really interesting hard look to her face. Like she would punch the next person who got on her nerves. Man, she must be really pissed at herself for breaking down when time was of the essence.
(Max's P.O.V.)
I felt like utter crap. One of my Flock was dying. I had broken down, which I hadn't done in a long time. And we were on a hopeless mission for a cure for a sickness that we had no idea what it was. Kari tried to give us directions to the Academy. Some Texas type of School. I dug my nails into my palm. Suck it up, girl. Part of your world is counting on you.
(Kari's P.O.V.)
I was baking. In my homemade hell. I set fire to the area around us, making a ring. Every time I had to draw a breath, the fire wavered slightly, having nothing to burn off of. My new clothes were singeing, dangit! I wiped the sweat of off Iggy's forehead. Still clammy. Still freezing. Still BAD.
(Max's P.O.V.)
Fang and I had been flying for 5 straight hours. I was soooooo tired. Worn out. Ka-peesh. I needed calories. 3,000 of them. Fang was looking dead on his feet too. I motioned to him.
"Town," I managed to croak out, my throat dry from lack of water. We hadn't had the time to grab anything but the credit card and now we were paying the price. Well, we could always chew the plastic in cases of EXTREME hunger. Not that it would be very filling.
Fang nodded. His hair and clothes seemed out of place here. Too nice to be with our grungy lifestyle. W swooped down on the nearest McDonald's and attacked.
"Three chicken selects, two french fries, a large drink and two McFlurries," I rasped. The lady (who had an unseemingly large weight problem) looked at me odd. She opened her mouth to comment on my food choice for just me when her supervisor came by.
"Give the lady what she wants," he said in an oily voice, looking at my chest. Gimme a break. Pervert. The cashier gave him a stiff nod and rang me up. When the food came up, wafting through my nose, it was like I had woken up. I grabbed the tray, gave a glare at the lecherous supervisor and headed off to a table where Fang was tearing into his Quarter Pounder.
I sucked down my food in record time and sat there contentedly. Until I felt a tug on my pocket. I turned around. I had been taught to pickpocket and pickpocket well. Some one had stolen my credit card. I needed that! I jumped up and dumped my tray in the trash, eyeing everyone in the restruant.
There! It was flashing silver on her black. It was a short gothic chick! She had it! I sped across the restaurant, Fang giving me a bewildered look, and out the door to the alley she had just walked into. She didn't have a chance. Unfortunately, the boot was on the foot. I was the one without a chance.