I'm losing a LOT of readers after chapter 1. I lose more than half of them. Anyone else have this happen? Anyways, I'm working on them, but I've got only a little time now each day. Biking, you see, has become my major focus. Writing takes a back seat. On my bike, there is no back seat.

Well, the story's sort of sunk to anonymity (it's not hits per day anymore, now it's now days per hit) so I thought it was definitely time to release the new chapter. My editor's been MIA for a few days, and I'm hoping KrazyKatie will help me with this chapter. Unfortunately, I have to buy the book Monday, seeing as how I lost my original copy some years ago, and I apparently screwed up Angel's powers.

This chapter is definitely the longest, over 6,000 words, beating the old record by 1,000. An edited version will likely come out later when KrazyKatie gets the time to look over the rest of my stuff and catches up. Please point out redundant points, grammar errors, other mistakes and plot holes you catch. Whoever catches one gets a good mention next chapter.

We were definitely so out of there now. Screw short flight hops- we were going as far as we could from that place. There was the risk of running into the thunderstorm, but it had been moving southeast, so we would be skirting the edge, if anything. Plus, I didn't think the flock would slow down anyways.

"Nice trip, Max," Fang commented. I remembered how I'd stopped that one Eraser from getting away and felt myself blush for no apparent reason. This seemed to be happening a lot to me lately. I'd react, and strangely, to Fang. Whatever he did, I reacted to. And not like I normally would.

"Yeah, when he wakes up he's going to be pissed." I said. "Then again, when aren't they?"

"Wait…. wake up? You left them ALIVE?" Ghost asked, mouth almost hanging open in surprise. It was almost as if he wanted to hear that they were joking, and was waiting to hear a punch line that didn't exist. He had been silent since liftoff, except for the occasional heavy breathing and occasionally clumsy attempt to deal with sudden wind changes.

"Of course!" I said, equally shocked. What did he mean? Was I supposed to kill it in its face-in-the-dirt induced sleep? Twist of the neck and no more Eraser? Or should I do as he had, and get blood everywhere…I pushed it out of my mind.

"I'm amazed you've made it this far! Don't you know what this means?" he asked angrily.

I shrugged. "That he's alive?" I asked, totally unaware of what point he was trying to make. He'd managed to completely lose me.

"It means they'll just keep coming after us!" He said. "That Eraser will know to watch his step, and it's far more costly to The School to produce new Erasers!" Fang and the others had shifted formation, and were listening intently now.

"And your alternative is to kill them, to get their blood on your hands?" I asked. The memory came back into my mind instantly. We still had to talk about that. I really should have picked a better phrase to get my point across. My whole body shuddered now, and I had an even harder time ignoring the memory.

His whole body had the exact same reaction, a moment where he forgot to flap, and I knew that I'd hit a nerve. I knew that was an important memory of his, but I hadn't expected quite that large of a reaction. "They aren't human," he said lowly at me after a few seconds' silence.

"Neither are we!" I said, totally, utterly offended. How could he say that when he wasn't, either? The only thing I knew for certain was that this conversation was going nowhere, and fast. He and I were both unwilling to budge.

"Yes, but I'm killing them because if given half the chance they would kill me. We have human emotions. Erasers only know hate, hunger, and pain!"

"Why do that when you can just knock them out? It's more fun," Gazzy added.

"Cause if I don't kill them, then they will have learned from our last fight. They get tougher as they get older. And once they learn how to fight me, I might not be so lucky as to win next time. And then I'm dead! D-E-A-D!" He said, spelling out 'dead'. "I'm not getting locked up, or recaptured by white coats. I'm going to get killed. And then it's going to be my blood on your hands because you didn't listen!" Enough with mentioning bloody hands already! I was sick to my stomach with Ghost. What I didn't get is why we were still flying next to him. Hell, we could ditch him easy enough.

"So? The school abducts another child and makes another Eraser, and we put another family through the same miserable process! That's hardly what I would call right!" Nudge argued.

"So? In another three years those Erasers were going to die anyway!"

"I hope to God we have that place shut down in less than three years. If we do, then that would mean that fewer children will be abducted by The School as they try to find replacements for the dying old Erasers." Iggy said.

Realizing that he had lost this battle- (I was so proud of my flock), he tried a new tactic. "Erasers are smart, Max. You might not respect them, but you must admit that it's getting harder to hold them at bay. Ari's been gunning for Fang now. How much longer until he orders two Erasers to go after Angel? How much longer until they stop grouping up for Iggy's famed explosives to work well? We kill them, and they start with new recruits that don't know how to fight us. Makes things a lot easier."

"How did you know about-"and then I remembered that Angel had informed him of our little plan back where Ari had been. He must have either connected the dots or Angel had told him. I needed to teach that girl what the word 'confidential' meant. "So we kill this batch so we won't have to kill the next as quickly? What sort of screwy logic is that?" I asked.

"No, not at all. We kill them so we stay alive. We get The School to keep expending Erasers until they decide to call it quits."

"That won't work," Fang said. Everyone turned to look at him. When Fang spoke, which was rare, he always had something good to say. "We're too valuable for them to lose. They will expend anything to keep this a secret and to recapture us." He said sadly.

"So we reduce the number they can send against us when they start using more than a dozen at any given time. We can make it harder for them to amass forces. That or the Erasers learn to stop looking for us." Ghost suggested, like it was obvious.

"And that won't work either," I said, thinking of how Ari was becoming more and more insane as the days passed. He would never give up on us. Yes, he might occasionally retreat to fight another day, but that in itself was the problem- he would fight us another day, and then another and so on. Statistically, Ghost was right. Eventually we would slip up, or an Eraser would get lucky, much as I didn't want to believe it possible.

"We've very rarely faced a previous Eraser more then two times," Fang said quietly. "So it doesn't help if we kill them or not, really. Ari has been our only consistent enemy. So you don't have to worry about going up against the same enemies."

"Tell you what," Ghost said "Why don't you do things your way, and I'll do them my way? I like killing them."

"No, I'll tell you what! How about I run this flock, and you shut up? Does that work out for you?" I hissed. He was wearing down on my patients.

"Gee, glad I'm not a part of it!" he said back angrily. "You aren't a flock of birds, you're a flock of sheep! Why not use the tools you have? They are useful."

Fang nodded slowly. "They can come in handy," he admitted, overlooking the 'sheep' comment. I hated that he said that. I made up my own mind and did what I pleased! The whole flock followed me because they chose to do so.

"I don't want you here anyways!" I growled. He was corrupting Fang! Stupid fucking headache, I swear that I-. Oh. Shit. No, it felt like it was a regular one. Still, better safe than sorry. "Guys, headache," I said. We all dove down into the trees, Ghost following us, looking a bit confused.

"What's going on?" He asked, as soon as we landed. He landed rougher than we did- a reminder that he wasn't used to flying or landing yet.

Fang looked up. "Max has been having headaches. One of them got so bad she couldn't fly. We almost lost her to the ground."

Ghost looked thoughtful. "Max, the next time that happens, I want you to cross your right leg over your left, and your right arm under your left, and do the same with your wings."

I looked up at him. The headache was fading fast, and I felt like an idiot for making everyone land. False alarm. "Why?"

"Well, it won't help much with the landing," he admitted. "But it makes it easier for us to unscrew you from the ground."

Oh, har har I thought to myself. "Okay, let's keep moving."

"Wait," he said. "Why are we taking off so suddenly? A headache doesn't just come and fade like…"

But it was too late for his questions; we were already airborne.

A a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a

I knew that we couldn't stave off his questions much longer. He knew there was more to this flock than he had been told. Angel's psychic abilities was one thing he knew about, and he probably also knew about Gazzy's ability to imitate voices. And he also knew of Iggy's abilities with explosives. So he was obviously a little on edge whenever something strange or unexplained happened- like landing for no apparent reason, and then taking off immediately thereafter. There would be a lot of questions tonight. Questions asked, and questions answered. Maybe we could go for a trade- I answer about the headaches, he answers about…well, stuff. Hopefully he'd answer a lot more than we did. He stayed silent as the trip went on, right up until we decided to land. It was almost dusk, the sun was barely visible over the treetops. The terrain had become more lush and hilly, and we were crossing more roads now than ever before. Still, there were enormous bare patches of land here and there- a reminder that we really hadn't gone far in our few days of travel.

We all landed in a semicircle- even Ghost managed not to trip this time. Quickly, everyone split into making different parts of the camp- fire, scout, and cleaning the clearing of obnoxious twigs and the like.

"Ghost," I said. Everyone seemed to stop paying attention to what they were doing- each had turned an ear or eye towards us. This confrontation was obvious to everyone. They had all been wondering 'why is he here,' but it was sort of mean to say that aloud when he was flying with us.

"Yes?" he asked.

"I know we haven't known one another very long, but there are some things we have to straighten out right now."

"Can't it wait?" he said gruffly, not looking up while trying to split a huge fallen branch. It would be useful for firewood if the woodlands weren't so damp from the storm. Still, by morning it should be dry. He seemed to be unaware that everyone's attention was more or less focused on the two of us.

"No," I said.

He paused, then stood up straight, letting his wings arc over his head. "Great…" Now he was aware. He let the branch fall- shaking the forest floor. "What is it now?"

I decided to use the never-failed, Max's Find-the-Mole strategy. Find the Mole? The voice asked, sounding curious. "Ghost, are you a part of The School?"

He snorted. So did the voice. Yes, Max, the world applauds your great strategy. "Like I would ever work for those sadistic bastards. Why?"

"Ghost, there just so happens to be a…most interesting memory. One of you with blood on your hands. Now you wouldn't have killed a scientist- they will put down an Eraser for even touching one, but you're very much alive. That means that you killed someone for the school."

He paled as soon as he heard those words. He was standing absolutely stock still. The others tensed, ready for anything. I looked to Angel. His thoughts are racing- I can't pick up what he's really thinking.

Bingo. He'd been caught totally off guard. Guilty as charged. Smoking gun. I told you it would work. I said to the voice. He stayed silent, possibly

"Oh…that memory," he said, eyes widening. "How did you-" he looked at Angel "Oh, right…"

Angel shuddered. He found the same memory we looked at. He's going over it right now…

"Yes, that memory," I said. "The one where you have someone's blood all over your hands."

"I take it you want to know what that memory was about?" he said mildly.

"No, I don't." I answered honestly. I wanted to drop that subject- it wasn't something I wanted to bring up.

"Actually, you do. Face it, you're curious, much as you'd like to deny it. I'm not full of blood lust like an Eraser, and I don't kill if I don't think its right. Yet that memory says otherwise, right? Plus the little argument we had on the way here…" he said, connecting the dots. "I can tell you about it, if you want."

I paused. He was right; I was a little curious, if only for curiosity's sake. "Stop when I ask," I demanded.

"Of course," he answered. He shifted a little bit, a little more comfortably. "I…was a fool. Back then-"

"Stop," I said, cutting him short, much shorter than he even expected. He looked up in surprise, mouth somewhat open. "Don't feed me a bullshit story on how you're changed now. I know more than you think, Ghost. Just get on with the memory. Don't describe yourself to me, because you honestly make me sick."

"Fine, I'll get to how I was a fool later." He said with a low grumble. "But let me give you some background at least. At that point in time, I was very young. I was a gem of a specimen, or so my Dad said." He paused. That pause turned into a full stop before I waved. He was smiling a bit, which seemed to be a strange facial expression on him, yet something I'd been seeing with more and more frequency. It was a genuine smile. He almost looked like a normal kid, thinking back to a really happy memory.

"Go on," I said impatiently. Who was this 'Father'? Was Ghost like Ari in that regard?

"He was everything to us. He helped create us. He was our father, sort of. I mean, not biologically. But he was our dad, provided for us more than our biological ones ever did. But he wasn't like the other white coats. He cared for us, and he kept us useful to the scientists so they wouldn't eliminate us. We became Prey for the Erasers. But he did more than that. He taught us how to fight, how to kill. He taught us to be more than just the hunted. He taught us to read and write, how to do basic math. And from there on, he just brought us obsolete computers with material loaded in them. The material covered everything from assassination to survival training. We practiced on one another, fighting, trying pressure points, generally learning how to protect ourselves. Well, we evened the odds against our hunters. We were being tested against fresh, inexperienced Erasers, who soon had the training advantage. An Eraser's life span is very short, as you know. So we studied for longer than six years, and we knew more than the oldest Eraser. It wasn't long before I used it all to my advantage during a fight. An Eraser got a little too aggressive, and I was a little too overconfident by that point. I'd let them beat me time after time. If I ever won, the white coats would start asking questions. But this time he said something about Father. I should have let his insult go. I can't even remember what it was he'd said about Father. But I killed him with his own knife. I remember that moment vividly, because as it turned out, father wasn't pleased."

"And then you realized…" I said. He'd spun a nice tale to be sure, and Angel hadn't cut in, but it was going to take a lot more than that to convince me. Hell, I wasn't sure what it would take. But I wasn't satisfied yet, he still hasn't become trustworthy in my eyes. But if he gives me a decent answer then maybe, just maybe he was actually a decent person underneath all the cruelty and anger he had on the surface.

"I realized I had done the wrong thing. Killing over words, how stupid could I be? I almost ruined everything for the sake of a few words I can't even remember now. They got smart to the fact that we knew how to kill."

"Wrong answer." I frowned at him.

"There is no wrong answer, Max. There is only the answer I gave. This isn't your story, anyways. It's not your place to say what I did and didn't learn, because that is what I learned from it."

"No, the right answer would have been 'I did the wrong thing because killing is wrong.'" I said, correcting him.

"I disagree."

I was taken somewhat aback. If this was a School agent trying to spy on us, it was a miserable failure. Shouldn't he be tripping all over himself, correcting his statements just to get the right answer, just so I would be pleased with the answer he gave and trust him? What if I was wrong? Could I be wrong about him being a spy? Maybe this was just his nature.

"Killing is wrong," I repeated. Even a three year old would agree with that, right? Now even the densest spy would realize his mistake and take a step backwards and start contradicting himself.

"And who taught you that logic?" he asked, challenging me. He made it sound like I was the 3 year old. His demeanor was also changing right before my eyes. He slowly began to stand now, muscles tensed. His words were now so full of hate that Angel trembled beside me. Instantly, my protective streak kicked in.

"Jeb Batchelder," I said, not thinking about the words until they were out of my mouth.

"Oh, Jeb Batchelder," he said, voice dripping with venom at the words, tone one of transparently false admiration. "Right, because he is such a moral, upstanding person, someone to idolize," he said sarcastically. "Because someone who works at The School is someone we should all listen to. Right? Wrong. What the hell is the matter with you?"

I was shaking now, my hands balled into fists. I was angry. Furious. He was wrong! He had taken my words and twisted them around. Jeb Batchelder wasn't the only person who thought killing was wrong. "Lots of people better than Jeb think that killing is wrong, too, and if even Jeb thinks that killing is wrong, then where does that put you, Ghost? Are you a monster that's even worse than Jeb? You're hardly making a case for yourself as a good person here."

Ghost laughed harshly. "Jeb doesn't think Killing is wrong, Max. You have a lot to learn about 'Jeb Batchelder, the man who saved you from The School.' He might kill with a scalpel more often than he does with a gun, but he has killed with both. Killed a lot of people I cared about. And from what you always say about him, I sometimes wonder if we're talking about the same man. Then again, he never would shut up about you-"

"I've heard this sort of talk before," Fang cut in. "You sound just like a certain wolf boy we all know and hate."

Ghost whirled on Fang, his face a twisted mask of hatred. Angel stifled a cry and squeezed my hand tightly. His haunches rose, he was seeing red, he was on the very verge of losing it. Then suddenly, Ghost screamed into Fangs face, "Jeb Batchelder killed my father!" Even Fang took a step back. There was a split second of dead silence, spare his voice echoing in the canyon. "He murdered him right in front of my eyes, without even a word of 'goodbye' or 'sorry,' like he was a common animal to be put down! He was my hero, he was my father, and you have the gall to say that he doesn't kill? I know better! And when I faced him in The School, do you know what he did? He let me live! I went in there to die, because that's what I thought I wanted, right after I killed Jeb. Instead, Jeb is still alive and so am I, and what's worse is that Jeb has me…" his furious voice, which had filled our ears earlier, was silent now. Even the mountain's echoes stopped carrying his voice. "I just don't know what I want anymore," he finished quietly.

"I have said my piece," he said, marking the end of his short rant. He sat back down on the rock, breathing hard. He was shaking with energy now. He leapt up from the rock and made his way to the opposite end of the camp and sat down on a mossy log, facing away from us, staring into the darkness.

Hoo boy...I blew it. We blew it. Crap. Doesn't this just suck. So my adoptive father killed his adoptive father. Wow. You know, just…wow. That certainly put a bad foot out in front. And he'd said 'our father.' Was there more than one Ghost? God, this made my head spin. I doubted that there was more than one Ghost, but with The School, you never knew.

This is worse than you know, Max The voice in my head said.

I told you to shut up. I reminded it. But his voice had spurred me back into action. I looked over to the rest of the gathered flock, which seemed as stunned as I had been only a second ago. I sighed and made my way over to where he sat. I sat down next to him on the opposite side of the log. I looked over my shoulder. None of the rest of the flock had moved. True, Ghost's words had hit home like a bombshell, but I was still disappointed in their lack of ability to react.

I looked over to Ghost. He was slumped over, staring down at the ground in front of him. His face was not illuminated, a dark shadow cast by a thick tree making it too dark to see.

I was busy trying to decide on how to tactically approach this problem.

Whatever you do, don't say 'I'm sure there must have been a good reason for Jeb to have killed your father,' or 'Hey, he wasn't your biological Dad, so it's no big deal.'

Gee, thanks for stating the obvious, voice.

"Are you crying?" I asked, incredulously. It took a lot to get one of the flock to cry, myself included. And here was someone whom I considered many times more cold-blooded…crying? It doesn't say much about my diplomacy skills, but if you'd been in someone's head and seen a memory like the one I had, you'd be surprised if that someone would even flinch at anything, even death. I could not imagine doing that to someone…and being pleased about it. Even if that someone had done something terrible, such as killed everyone I ever knew, I wouldn't be pleased about killing him or her.

That's hardly an improvement, my voice commented, offering another critique on my diplomatic skills.

"No," he simply said.

"Ghost…" I said carefully. Did he hate us, now, too? "Ghost…please understand, we have to know if what you've said is true or not. How can we be sure?"

He was silent, then he opened his fierce eyes. "What, do you want to have Angel take a look? Go ahead, see how many pieces she comes out in! That shattered my world, you know. I wonder what would happen to a six year old child's."

"Ghost…I…well, there's something about you…"

"What?" he asked. He sniffed very quietly, holding back the tears, I guess. Maybe bad guys could cry, too. He probably wasn't even aware that he'd cried, though. "That I have a soul, that I'm not beyond 'saving'?'" he asked. "Save your breath," he said. "I might not know what it is that I do want, but I'm sure it's not that."

"No, that's not what I was going to say. Let me speak for once!" I said sharply. He went dead silent. Aw crap, I went across the line.

He turned away from me on the log and sat absolutely still. The prolonged silence was going to kill me. "Well?" he finally asked. His voice sounded steady, but I knew he was far from ready to be rational. "Are you going to speak, or should I go back to finishing your sentences for you?"

"Ghost, what keeps you going? What is it that lets you keep fighting?"

He paused. He was completely silent. I couldn't even hear him breathe.

"What is it that you live for?" he asked me.

"I live for the flock. They're my family. They're everyone I care for. And if I don't protect them, then I know something terrible will happen. Something unspeakable. So I do my best to get up every morning and do what I can to keep them free. Now I've answered your question. It's your turn to answer mine."

He frowned and nodded. At least he had a sense of fairness. "What do you think keeps me going? What do you think it is that fills my life every waking moment? You have to know by now. I mean, it's obvious, right? Or do you just want to hear me say the words?" He added the last part with spite.

"I honestly don't know." I said. He seemed to be getting more agitated, not calmer. This wasn't working.

"It's a wonder you remained leader this long. Its pure and simple revenge and hatred of Jeb and The School that keeps me going. I'm not sure which I hate more. I'm going to kill Jeb. Anything after that is…well, I'll see what comes up. But I think killing Jeb and going after The School is going to be a lifetime gig. Short as it may be. In other words, I don't expect to live very long at this, but that doesn't bother me to much."

"That's what keeps you going? Then why aren't you trying to kill Jeb right now?"

"There's a good reason, I suppose. I know that fighting The School is going to be harder alone than with some partners. And right now our target is The School. We take that out and Jeb is that much easier to get to. You lead, I'll follow. But I'll do things my way."

"You think you've got problems?" I asked him. He looked up and faced me again.

"What?"

I pointed at my own head. "I'm hearing god damn voices in my head. I don't know what to think of it. It's real, we've established. And it's helped us on a few occasions. But I first got it from a headache that knocked me out…while I was flying. There's no warning. I could plummet to my death at any time. I could have my DNA unwinding, like what happened with The Erasers." I breathed. "So quit your bitching and deal with life. I don't want to have a talk like this again. You need to cool it, because right now you're acting like a self-centered idiot!"

He was now completely facing me. "You really are serious, aren't you? You're hearing voices in your head?" He asked. I nodded, a little afraid. He was acting strange. "That's just…perfect," he said miserably. I looked at him. "You're positive it's not stress?"

I nodded. "It knows things even I don't. Not even on a subconscious level. Like how to make structures." He sighed. "Then again, for all we know, it is…" I conceded.

"Well, if it is, don't worry about your DNA unwinding. It will happen to me first. I don't know how old I am- no one ever counted, even my dear old Dad. But if and when I inexplicably drop dead, then you should start worrying." He looked only a little better- he wasn't crying. But he did look a little less angry. Not so much angry at us then at our situation. Which I supposed was a vast improvement.

He sighed, and walked over to Fang, who stood there watching us. "Give me a moment," he said. I nodded and stayed where I was. At this point, putting pressure on him was a bad idea. He'd have to get used to working with a team. But I could give him a moment, same as I gave everyone in the flock a moment. Oh Jesus, did I just upgrade him to flock status in my mind? What sort of idiotic idea was that?

A a a a a a a a a

"Fang," Ghost said. Fang walked over slowly to where Ghost stood. Fang said nothing, as usual. Ghost was intelligent, but frankly, Fang didn't trust him, probably because Max didn't. And possibly because he just didn't like the way Ghost did things. "Look, Fang I came here to follow a competent leader of a…well, more or less normal flock. Or something like that. But I certainly didn't sign on to follow a girl who hears voices in her head, and what's worse listens to them, and travel with a psychic that can control your mind, which by the way is creepy as hell!

"You sort of missed the conversation we had about that," Fang said, clapping Ghost on the shoulder. Ghost jumped at the physical contact, but forced himself not to react. He stood stock still until Fang removed his hand with a muttered 'sorry'.

"What do you mean?"

"Uh, about the voices? Well, we came to the conclusion that either she's gone crazy, in which we don't find anything, or that she's not, in which case we get attacked."

"Isn't getting attacked bad? I mean, fighting is fun, but I don't go asking for it," Ghost said.

"Well, the voice seems to know where we are right now. It's been fairly accurate in its directions. So really, if it really knows where we are, and if it's from The School, then they stand to gain pretty much nothing by telling us where to go. So we're really just finding out if Max is either insane or if we're on to something. And from what Max says, the voice has made itself somewhat useful. It tells her stuff."

"Like?"

"Like when to duck. We don't know how it knows, but it does. We've run into Erasers. And…well, it's helped."

"Maybe it's fooling you into trusting it."

"Look, we, and by 'we' I mean the entire flock and I, have already had this talk. If The Voice hadn't pitched in on a few occasions, then we would have lost the fight. So that begs the question, why bother helping us? Why bother leading us to New York to capture us there when they could have captured us just as easily by not saying anything?"

Ghost said nothing, and seemed to be considering this. "Fine," he said. "But while I trust Angel, and I think she's a good girl, one tiny altered thought and I'm out. Okay? And if Max starts hallucinating, I'm leaving."

Fang was tempted to reply with 'good riddance,' but he knew better than to push someone this close to actually leaving. Ghost would be a good asset, no matter how hot-tempered he sometimes could get. Besides, Max would kill him. Painfully. Still, it riled him up to hear Ghost talking bad about the flock, especially about Max, for some reason. Normally nothing got under his skin, not even Iggy's picking people's door locks, Nudge's constant yammering, Gazzy's disgustingly loud farts, or even Angel's occasional slip into someone else's mind got under his skin the way Ghost did when he talked about Max like she was some crazy lunatic.

Now he had a headache.

A a a a a a a

Great, this is my longest chapter so far! I have been busy, and as you know, this is a vital chapter- a turning point, a major plot twist, whatever you want to call it, you know it's important enough to change the story's direction, explain the past, and everything else. It explains why Ghost is so bitter and angry towards the school- to the point that he wants to see them all dead. Yes, his past is a bit full of angst. Was it too full of angst? I don't think so- I tried to avoid that part of Mary-Sue, since let's face it- the flock has had a really screwed up childhood- living on the whims of a scientist they should hate, but were deceived into loving. Really, there's nothing worse than that. So Ghost is really just an interesting contrast to this.

Oh, and by the way, I'm sort of taking a break on this story. No, it won't be for long. No, I'm not taking a break on writing it, just publishing new chapters as I finish outlining the rest of the story and going over it with friends. Stupid Maximum Ride 3…well, there will be major differences. One of which will be that Itex won't kill off all the Erasers, there aren't hundreds of flock clones, and Itex isn't somehow out to destroy the environment. These are just some spoilers for you to think about. And no, Fang's blog amounts to nothing. Let's face it- people ruthless enough to experiment on children have no qualms about crushing insurrections, even if they're made of children. Besides, most kids are too sedentary to really rise to action- sad but true. Or else they would have the right to vote. I mean, if the illiterate and mentally handicapped can vote, why not sixteen year old geniuses? It would be so worth it to see the attempted outreaches from pathetically out of it Senators.

Uh, I realized part of the problem is the way I'm writing the story. No smartass comments that I suck, please, because that's not what I meant, true as it may or may not be. I mean to say that it's the format. Everything in my Macintosh Microsoft word is in multiple lines and paragraphs- but this sentence, which is roughly three lines long in Microsoft word, is probably only one line long on Whoops. So I've started making my paragraphs longer- the huge blocks I see right now might not look very good in Microsoft word, but online they look a lot better. Thanks ed!

Oh, and before I forget, please R&R! Hits are my life at this point.