Disclaimer: I own the plot and the ruined buildings, but other than that…

Nudge was waiting. Angel had talked to Max and Max was coming, but it might take a while, she'd warned. So now they were waiting. Gazzy was pacing back and forth, his stomach growling audibly. Angel was lying in the dust, right next to where Nudge was sitting. She was resting again, but earlier she'd been able to open her eyes and move her hands and feet a little bit.

It had been rather disconcerting for Nudge, to see Angel laying there, her eyes open and full of expression, but her body passive and motionless. It was like she was trapped inside herself. And, strangely, Nudge felt responsible. Maybe it was just because she was in charge, because when she thought about it, it really wasn't Nudge's fault at all. But she did worry that Angel had saved their lives, only to be losing her own.

She thought about Iggy a lot. It seemed surreal, impossible, that he was gone. He had been living and breathing and teasing her less than twenty four hours ago. It just seemed unreal that now he was dead, exploded into millions of tiny pieces, floating around with the black dust that clouded the air. Nudge missed Iggy. He'd been smart and sarcastic and down to earth and realistic and not afraid to say things the way they were. She might even have been in love with him. Or maybe it was just infatuation. She was, after all, only fifteen.

Nudge? Angel was awake. Nudge blushed at the thought of Angel hearing her most recent musings. Angel didn't deny it, assuring Nudge that she had in fact been listening.

I've been thinking, Angel continued,

What?

I, um… Didn't tell Max and Fang. About what you were just thinking about. Angel's voice sounded guilty.

You can't tell anyone what I was just thinking about, Nudge thought forcefully.

Not that, Angel clarified. The whole thing.

Nudge didn't know what Angel was talking about. There were too many confusing thought running all around her brain at once, making lots of noise and distracting her. But then it clicked. You didn't tell them that he… That he…

Died. Nudge flinched at the harshness of Angle's tone. No, I didn't. Do you think I should have?

Yes, Nudge thought without hesitating. They would want to know. They deserve to know just as much as we do.

I thought so too, but then, when I was talking to Max, I couldn't say it. She was just so broken down already; I didn't want her to know anything else so bad.

Broken down? That didn't sound like Max.

Well, it's not like she told me that. I just felt it. Angel answered promptly, though Nudge hadn't meant to include that thought in their conversation. That was the trouble with mind readers, the downside to having conversations in your head.

Sorry.

Never mind. But, Angel- You need to tell them now. Max doesn't like it if you keep anything from her, much less something… this big. Nudge swallowed again, but the lump in her throat was restricted her breathing. Angel shut her eyes, presumably to contact Max, and Nudge covered her face with her hands as the confusing thoughts overran her head.

I hadn't even noticed Fang was descending until we landed, and he set me on the ground. In addition to being humiliating, flying with Fang holding me had just been… weird. The experience of being in the air without being able to fly on my own was new, and, honestly, it really freaked me out. I'd spent the first half hour in the air covering my eyes and trying to control my breathing.

"Why are we stopping?" I asked, and I was surprised at how weak my voice sounded.

"Taking a break," Fang said. "You're heavier than you look."

"Oh, ha, ha," I said, but I could tell that it was just an excuse. If Fang had wanted a break, for one thing, he wouldn't have stopped here. To get to where the others were as fast as possible, we had to fly over places the explosion had affected more than where we had landed. The smoke was thicker and darker, and carried with it a sick, murky smell that I couldn't place. You could see the fading embers of the still smoldering pieces of wood on the ground, emitting a more traditional gray smoke that blended in with the black. I coughed, trying to get it out of my lungs.

"Come on," said Fang, pulling me up off the ground. His voice was raw from the smoke, which was thickening. "Let's go find someplace we can breathe." I allowed him to drag me off in search of better air.

The brick and concrete structures had held up better than most, not that that was saying much. I knew these had been tall buildings, but all that remained of each was maybe a pair of walls, about twice my height, and a gaping hole that had been the foundation. Fang and I sprinted to the closest opening in the ground; since smoke rises and everything, we'd be safer the lower we could get.

When we reached the basement we jumped. Fang thrust his wings out as he reached for me. We grabbed hands and I spun myself as hard as I could towards him. Just as I felt myself sliding out of his grip, I swung forward enough to grab onto him.

The last of the rocks that had fallen in with us clattered to the ground, and then there was only the sound of our breathing, slowing as the adrenaline faded. I clung to Fang's shoulders as his wings beat in the silence, lowering us away from to smoke. The basement was much deeper than we had anticipated. He swooped recklessly and I squeezed him tighter, making a high-pitched, completely involuntary noise.

"You should be more careful with those," I scolded, tilting my head to indicate his wings. "You only get one pair."

"You would know," he said softly, looking apologetic even as he said it, and I suddenly became aware of the throbbing in my broken wings, lying uselessly against my back. The thrill of the fall was gone, and I felt just as hopeless and useless as ever.

When we landed at the bottom the air was clear, but a rotten smell penetrated the air. I looked around for the source and found it almost immediately: we were standing only a few feet from a body. I looked away, but a sick fascination drew my eyes like a magnet. The thing was mangled and barely human, its limbs twisted as it lay facedown on the floor. It was burned- that was the smell- and was surrounded by a scorched, dark red stain on the concrete. And there was more than one. They were grouped together on one side of the room, as though they had all gathered together in fear. But I knew that was impossible- they wouldn't have had any warning of the incoming threat. It was more likely that they were all working together or something, but the image stayed in my mind nonetheless: a group of people, pathetic in their last moments, cowering in a corner waiting to die.

My morbid thoughts were interrupted by Fang, who dragged me to the opposite corner, which was body-free, without a word. My eyes trailed back to the pile.

"Don't look at them." His voice was as harsh as I'd ever heard it. I forced my gaze back onto his face.

"Why are we here?" I asked, no longer pretending I believed his story about needing a break.

He took a deep breath. "Angel needs to tell us something."

Author's Note: I had a much busier holiday break than I anticipated and didn't get a lot of writing done, sorry about that. Right now school is a little crazy with exams and projects and all that, but I'm doing my absolute best. I might have a chance to write some more on Friday, but I won't be posting anything until you guys meet the review requirement, which is 88 total reviews for this week.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed last time: therealme1123, lion8520, Meralie, Kristin, shamroxandsweepers, duudezilla, senoritasophia13, not addicted to this author, not tori (ha. ha.), and Sphinxlovers. Sphinxlovers: I might do some flashbacks once everything calms down a bit.

I hope everyone liked this chapter! Sorry about the rather descriptive gore if that sort of stuff bothers you, but I know some of you people like that, so I left it in.