Thanks for the reviews, and please leave another! I need your help now more than ever!

Thanks to Jimi Hendrix and The Toadies for musical inspiration. My strategy goes like this: play a song over and over again until parents give me more Itunes money. So far I've got Purple Haze, Possum Kingdom, Foxey sic Lady, and Voodoo Child playing through my head. Starting to get a headache, so I didn't make this chapter too long. Expect a minor delay for me; I'm not writing for a little while, I'm helping a friend get oriented on fictionpress, biking, and working longer hours. I'll do what I can…

I also had a killer headache, so I can relate a little to Max for the beginning of this chapter. Thanks, random asshole who gave me the virus! You improved my story! Wish I could thank him or her with a swift kick in the ass.

Anyways, on with the story. Sorry for the delay. My friend wouldn't discuss chapter titles. Something about a banana phone and Jesus buddy kept him more than interested. And without further ado, I bring you…

Okay, I couldn't, in good conscious, leave the chapter at 1,500 words. It was 1000 words shorter than my shortest chapter. So I had to make it better. It took me a grand total of 15 minutes to more than double it. Hooray for efficiency! Uh-oh, I'm late for work.

My head still wasn't feeling right, and it had been three days since I had had the voice. Since then, it had butted in to offer helpful but unwelcome advice. My head still ached a little, but it seemed to be going away, and it felt like a normal headache, which I thought I'd never be glad to have.

"Max," Angel said quietly. I looked up and stopped pondering how I was going to deal with this voice in my head and met her eye-to-eye.

"Yes?" I asked.

"Max, I offered to show you what I saw inside Ghost. And…well, it isn't pleasant. And it's been eating away at me, and I think I have to share it with someone."

"Eating away at you?" I asked. What did she mean by that?

"I mean to say that it's just…you need to see it. And I need you to explain it to me, because some things just aren't adding up."

"What things?" I asked.

"Please Max," Angel said. When a member of the flock asked me for something, and added a 'please' to it, it was hard to resist, no matter what they were asking for.

"Fine," I said, turning totally to face her. "What did you want to show me?"

"When I looked inside of Ghost…well, it's hard to explain something you don't understand," she said, trying her best to be articulate and failing at it. "It's really frustrating."

"I know," I said a bit more empathetically than I needed to, thinking of the voice. The flock had still been asking questions more than an hour after I'd told them about the voice. I hadn't been sure which would drive me crazy first- the voice, or my own flock.

"Maybe I can just show you. It would be faster."

"Okay, but what exactly will you be showing me?" I asked, trying not to sound nervous.

"Uh, exactly what I saw, felt, heard, you know, the five senses. It's whatever I picked up from when I was in his head. What you make of it is up to you."

I bit my lower lip. "Let's do this," I said. She nodded and closed her eyes. Following her lead, I did the same.

Suddenly, the forest surroundings were pitch black, and I felt myself sort of leave my body as it became numb as I got more and more into the memory, which began to trickle in, starting low, in the back of my subconscious, but quickly working its way to the front of my mind. Warm blood coated my hands. I felt…happy wasn't the word. Satisfied? Was that the word? I'd done a good job. Someone, someone important to me, would be pleased at what I'd done. But there was something distracting me from my…satisfaction, if that was the word I was looking for. It was in the back of my mind, whatever the hell it was. I paused, frowning as I focused in on it. It sounded like someone screaming. I listened harder, and suddenly I was reminded of where and who I was. For a heartbeat, I was two separate people; I was both at once Ghost, and I was also myself. And I was torn; I was pleased, and yet I was terrified all at the same time. The strain made me clutch at my skull, raking my fingernails through my short and long hair. Suddenly I was back in reality. My hair was blonde and long again, and I realized that I was screaming and my fingers were digging into my skull to the point that they were probably drawing blood. The rest of the flock was gathered around me in seconds.

"What happened, Max, is it the voice?" Fang asked, worried. I almost would say he was freaking out, but this was Fang. And Fang never, ever freaked out. He was just too cool to freak out.

"A memory," Angel explained for me, seeing as how I was busy freaking out myself. "She got in too deep, and tried to pull herself out. The strain…it must have hurt her," she said, voice full of worry. I wondered why the world was still spinning and why I felt so sick. I never got motion sickness, part of the many benefits of being a frequent flyer on Flock Airways. I realized my thoughts were rambling and tried to clear my mind, but images flashed of my blood-covered hands. The deep breath I was taking ended in a gasp as I began to hyperventilate.

Fang crouched next to me and pulled my face eye to eye with his. "Calm down," he said. "We're here, Max, it's over."

I paused, taking a breath. Calm down. I ordered myself sternly. Pull yourself together. You have seen worse. "Well, that was…horrifying," I said to everyone. Somehow, Fang's presence had served to calm me beyond whatever inner strength I could pull together.

"What was it? What did you see?" Fang repeated.

I shuddered. "I-I saw…my hands covered in blood." I was sweating. "But I…it was terrible," I said quietly. "Fang, Iggy, the others don't need to hear or see this."

He nodded, and the others stood, Gazzy grumbling something about not being a kid, but they all ambled their way over to the other side of the camp.

"I…it…ugh," I said, shaking my hands of the imaginary blood. "I had killed something or someone, I think. My hands were covered in someone else's blood. But that's not all. I was…satisfied at what I had done. Someone…I think that's a deeper secret still, someone was going to be pleased at what I'd done. And that made me happy. I was happy I'd killed something. And while that wasn't me who had done it…I felt it inside of me. It was as if I was happy at my actions. I felt it, like as if I were in the same situation, I would feel the same way." I wasn't sure how Angel had stayed with this memory for so long. I'd already snapped coming out of it. Then again, she'd said the strain was the main issue. Maybe it got easier if I did this more often, though I'd sooner fight a squad of Erasers than go through this again, it was comforting to know that she hadn't had to go through quite the same experience.

"What do you think it means?" Fang asked.

"What it means is that Ghost is not to be trusted. If you see him again, and you're all alone, run. Somebody used him to kill someone else, I think. And that means he's probably a tool of The School. I don't know who the person who used him was, or the person he killed, but it doesn't matter. The only people who could have used Ghost like that was someone at The School, and if he's ever answered to anyone at The School, that makes him dangerous."

"Maybe it was a scientist. That explains why he was locked up when we found him," Iggy offered. I don't know why, but it seemed to me that Iggy had always been pretty defensive regarding Ghost.

"No, this was outdoors. And it wasn't a scientist. The memory is sort of fuzzy, but I would have noticed a white coat."

Iggy shrugged, as did Fang. "Okay, so if we see Ghost, pour on the speed?" Iggy asked grumpily. He wasn't happy about the facts, but seemed ready to accept them.

I nodded. The others stood up and left me be, but Angel stayed put. I looked up at her. "Angel, you were smart not to trust him." I said.

Well, it seemed as if we had a new enemy.

But on the plus side my headache was gone.

Jeb walked into the morgue after punching in with his handprint. The decontamination field's chemicals would have essentially destroyed any keycard he'd had. He had to time this right. He put on his best angry face and strode in. With no introduction, or even a 'hello' to the mortician, Dr. Butters, he immediately, and in an irritated tone, started making demads. "Where is the body of my would-be Assassin?"

"Doctor Batchelder?" asked the mortician. He was a pale mousy little man and less than what one could call trustworthy.

"I killed the Assassin and planned to pick it up on my own and conduct a few experiments on its body. Now I don't know how you managed to gain access into my office, but I am certain I left the door locked. I returned with a gurney and some trained assistants, but the body was gone." Jeb's body language was unmistakably hostile, and the mortician was practically quaking in his boots.

"Batchelder, I swear, I don't know what-"

"Mister Butters, if you cannot find the body in two minutes, I will have Ari here dismember you, and then let a junior technician practice on your remains. Do I make myself clear?"

"Doctor Batchelder, please!" Butters was babbling and sweating now. Ari sat back. This was a side of his father he had rarely seen. And he was enjoying watching every moment of it. He realized that he had almost missed his cue and looked menacingly towards Butters, who began sputtering and whimpering quickly.

"Butters," Jeb said. "You have eaten through one minute of your remaining life and spent it lying to me."

"Jeb, I swear by all that is holy, I don't know where the body is! I've received two bodies today, and they're right over there!" he said, pointing to two gurneys in the corner of the room. Both were in bodybags, but each was less than half the size of the missing body. Failed experiments, it would seem.

Jeb paused. Then he rocked on his heels in fake realization. "If I find you are lying, Butters, Ari will do far worse than dismember you. Ari, come with me. Assign someone to watch over Mister Butters, to make sure he doesn't do anything stupid."

Ari nodded and in seconds had someone on the job. A young eraser, half Ari's age and experience, but still eager and fierce. She was training to be a scout, and Ari rather admired her spirit and loyalty.

Jeb was almost to his office by the time Ari had left Butters with his guard. "Ari, I need you to wait outside my office. We may have another escaped prisoner, but we need to check. Go over security files in the garage. I'm sure the prisoner was in no shape to fly when I left him bleeding on my carpet floor, so I assume he will be trying to secure another means of travel."

Ari nodded and sprinted for the security section. Jeb watched him go and stepped inside his office. He logged onto his computer and sent an e-mail. He wanted to give Ghost more time, but if he didn't act now, it would be suspicious. He opened his mail and wrote to his superior.

Urgent: Prey Experiment Ghost loose. Whereabouts unknown. Contact with flock may be catastrophic for plans due to subject's attributes, he wrote. A second later, Ari knocked on the door and Jeb pressed the 'unlock' button. Ari strode in, holding a videotape in his clawed hand. "He took your car," he said.

Jeb bit down on a curse and pretended to shuffle his paperwork, as if looking for his keys. "Why did the gate guard not stop him?"

"The guard has instructions to let you pass in and out without being searched," Ari reminded Jeb. Of course, Jeb already knew all of this.

"I see. My car has no tracking chip in it. That will make finding Ghost difficult."

"Ghost?" Ari asked. His ears perked up in annoyance.

"Yes," Jeb said, rubbing his temples. "I want you to find and bring Ghost back. Dead or alive," Jeb finished.

"Where can I find him?" Ari asked.

"I have every confidence in your ability to find someone, Ari," Jeb said. Ari knew this was lingo for 'I don't have a clue, so good luck and happy hunting.'

"Understood. Can I assemble a new squad of erasers? We lost a few when we went after the flock's hideout. I am going to need replacements."

Jeb nodded, then waved his son off, pretending to get back to work on his computer. He only hoped that Ghost hadn't caught up with the flock. He sighed and reached into his desk for his wallet. His hand slapped solid wood. He looked down in alarm and cursed for real this time. The son of a bitch had stolen his wallet! He groaned and sank into his chair. Canceling a card that was untraceable was going to be…difficult, and getting a new one was probably going to be even harder. Then again, he should have expected it. Unleashing someone as out of control as Ghost was certain to have its consequences, ones even Jeb couldn't have predicted. Jeb just hadn't expected for them to happen quite so fast. He would just have to get the card cancelled before Ghost could reach civilization, and unless you knew your way around the area, you were more likely to run out of gas first. Or at least Jeb hoped Ghost would run out of gas. He rather liked that car.

Ghost sniffed the campfire. He picked at the ash and rubbed it between his thumb and forefinger. It was still recent, he noted as he recalled the survival training he'd learned so many years ago. The ash was still warm. The flock had been traveling in a straight arrow for New York. He didn't know why they were heading there, or what they expected to find there, but that was their heading. And he was getting closer, but it wasn't without consequences. He hadn't eaten in two days, he'd dropped off more several pounds from not eating, and his muscles screamed with every flap of his wings. He was slower, less graceful, and heavier than any member of the flock. But he never had to stand watch or hunt for as long as the rest of the flock.

Plus, at night, the wind was calmer and he used this to his advantage. There were definite advantages to traveling alone. Even so, he also doubted Max and the others were flying at full speed- if they had, their trail would have been growing colder, not warmer. Were they waiting for him to catch up, or was something else slowing them down? Maybe one of them was hurt, and it made sense that they would all stay as a group- Iggy's blindness was proof enough that Max was not the type of leader to simply leave one of her own behind, no matter what happened to that person. It was an admirable trait, and it said a lot about the bond between the flock.

He sighed and stood, stretching his sore back. He'd let his backpack fall off his shoulders easily and wings droop along the forest floor. He wasn't going to try and use them as rigorously for much longer. Either he'd run out of stamina and be forced to try and catch up some other way or he'd catch up with them. Considering how new this campfire was, he'd guess he wasn't far behind- one or two days at the most. He was almost there. He had dumped Jeb's car over a cliff after it had run out of fuel. It had been a fun and interesting first attempt behind the wheel of a car. Of course the Eraser training manual had a few words to say about driving, but they were…inadequate. Ghost had almost run the car off the road on several occasions, and forgotten which side of it was the right one.

One adrenaline-pumping near-miss later, and he was sure he would never forget he was supposed to always be on the right. He was hot on the trail of his targets, and he knew it.

That was four days ago. Four days of 'freedom'. He looked up at the incoming thunderstorm. Crap. This might slow him down. He paused. But it would definitely slow down Max. Max wasn't stupid enough to fly a group into a thunderstorm. They might become separated, and if one of them was injured, well, the winds were extremely harsh. It might be too much. Max was crazy, yes, but she wasn't dumb. This might be his chance to close the gap. He knew that he couldn't possibly get separated from any group- he was traveling alone. It would be difficult to fly in. But not impossible.

Right?

It seems I've forgotten to have a good physical description of Ghost. This is mainly because I can't seem to decide on one. What color should the hair be? Should his eyes even be normal, or a dead giveaway to his nonhuman lineage? As you can guess, I'm being thorough in my appearance selection. No, he will not resemble me. I'm about 6', 160 lbs, and I am a kind person to a fault. This isn't at all like Ghost. (He will be shorter, younger, weigh more, and is, in case you didn't pick it up in this chapter, not a very nice person.)

A shorter update than you would have liked, I know, but that's because I really hadn't meant to let an earlier scene run two chapters ago…whoops. Anyways, it doesn't really mess things up too badly. But it might throw off the story a little; I'd planned for this to come before the whole Ghost/Jeb showdown, and to end this chapter in the 'Ghost/Jeb showdown.' Chronologically it might not flow, though, so I need your input (again) as to what would work best.