Again, it's taken me a long time to update! Sorry, sorry. But hey, it's summer! You're not supposed to be inside!

Disclaimer: I don't own Maximum Ride, or any characters in Maximum Ride.

Chapter Two

Why couldn't Fang just let things be? Oh, yeah. Because he's Fang. God.

I ran below decks to escape from him. This shouldn't even be happening. Who has to run from their best friend? Well, I suppose if you're Peter Parker it's understandable, but it's not really the same situation.

The rest of the flock was in the kitchen with the scientists, doing justice to the McDonald's spread on the table. I squeezed in next to Nudge, but I had kinda lost my appetite.

"Hey, Max, fast food is kinda gross, y'know?" she said, stuffing French fries in her mouth. "I mean, they just pour the grease right on the fries. I heard they just have a bucket of grease that they pour. Isn't that disgusting? We should open a chain of restaurants that has healthy food. I bet everyone would totally eat there!" Suddenly, I broke in to a random coughing fit, gasping for breath. Nudge thumped me on the back.

"Yes, we could do that someday," I said, gasping, when I could breathe again. I poured myself a glass of water. "That's definitely one way to save the world." From heart attacks, at least.

I sensed Fang entering the room quietly, but didn't look at him. I pretended to be absorbed in my burger as he sat opposite me.

Angel leaned across Nudge to talk to me. "Max? Can we go on land soon? I kind of miss it." She blinked her blue eyes innocently.

"Yeah, let's go tomorrow," I agreed. "It'll be good to get off this metal floating bathtub." Hopefully this was me giving her consent and not Angel giving herself consent through my mind. But I was pretty sure I kept Angel well out of my mind. It took a few months of pounding it into her head, but I think she finally got that under no circumstances would she be allowed in my mind.

"Max?" Dr. Papa said from the corner of the small kitchen. "There's a telephone call for you."

"Uh, what?" I said in disbelief. A phone call. From who? My conscience? That's probably the only person who has my phone number, anyway.

"Lucky!" Nudge squealed. "I've never gotten a telephone call before!"

Gazzy kicked me under the table. "Well, go get it!"

I got up, and slowly moved to the corner of the kitchen. Dr. papa handed me the phone. I turned so my back was to the curious stares of the flock. "Um…hello?" I said hesitantly.

"Max? This is Dr. Martinez, you remember, from Arizona?" The doctor's voice sounded extremely upset.

"Oh, hi." I relaxed. That crazy lady who had actually helped an injured hybrid bird id without asking for anything in return.

The chattering at the table resumed, the kids reassured by my ease in tension. They made the cluttered kitchen so loud that if was difficult to hear the doctor. I cupped the hand not holding the phone over myh othe ear, but I still only caught snatches of conversation.

"Max… x-ray… sorry… pretty sure… so, so, sorry…"

"Sorry, what was that? It's as noisy as a zoo in here!" I shouted, shooting meaningful glances at the table.

"Oh, Max…"

Gazzy stood up on his chair and made a grotesque farting noise with his mouth. I turned away, disgusted.

"Max, I… I've been studying the x-ray we took on out last visit, and…"

Suddenly my throat was very dry. I realized I was still holding the glass of water from the table. I took a swig, but that didn't quell the sudden feeling of foreboding in the pit of my stomach.

"Oh, I'm sorry… so, so sorry…" Her voice broke at the end. Dr. Martinez was crying. For me.

"Your x-ray… Y-you have… tuberculosis. Normally it wouldn't be so dangerous, but… you have the non-treatable kind. I would guess you have only a couple of months to live." She was speaking quickly as if that would make it better. I stared at the wall, my eyes stretched wide in shock. "If you could just… stop by… I could do some tests, and we'll be certain…"

I burst out laughing, though the sound was slightly breathless and a lot strained. "Me? No. I don't think so. I think your equipment is a bit dysfunctional, Doctor." Dr. Martinez was wrong. What did she know, anyway? She didn't know me. She had only met me once. And besides, she's a vet, not an actual doctor.

"Max…I'm not kidding. This is serious. Very, very serious. And I'm almost completely positive. Please, this is no laughing matter."

"You listen to me, and you listen good, Doctor," I snarled into the phone, but quietly so no one heard me. "I'm perfectly healthy. Alright? No problems here. Don't bother me with crap like this again, okay?"

The doctor spoke as if she hadn't heard me. "You may recognize some of these symptoms. Fever, night sweats, coughing, chest pain, shortness of breath."

The jar of water slipped through my frozen fingers and shattered immediately. The glass shards cut gouges into my legs, but I barely felt it. Some dim corner of my mind registered that it had gone very, very quiet in the small room.

"What?" I whispered bleakly, hoping against hope it wasn't true. She couldn't be telling the truth; she must be working for the School, or Itex, or…

But the obvious tears in Dr. Martinez's voice convinced me. I could actually hear her bawling on the other end of the line, even as she tried to comfort me.

"That's not possible," I argued. "It… just can't be." Dr. Martinez was wrong. What did she know, anyway? She didn't know me. She had only met me once. Her equipment was probably dysfunctional. Yeah, that was it. And besides, she's a vet. How can she know humans?

"Max, if you'll just… come by my lab… we'll do some tests… please…"

I slammed the phone back down in its cradle, gripping the counter with the other hand. I could feel my legs going weak. I squeezed my eyes shut and inhaled sharply through my nose. I felt a tickle in my throat, as though I were going to start coughing again. I pushed the sensation down.

"Max? Are… you okay?"

The horrific realization started to set in. Coughing fits… I hadn't been able to fly as high lately, because of breathing trouble… No, no, no…

"Max…?"

Suddenly it was just too much. How would the flock look at me, when they found out? I whirled and bolted from the kitchen as fast as I could. I raced into the girls' room and slammed the door shut, locking it and propping a chair under the doorknob so it was impossible to open. I flung myself onto the bed and tried to stop thinking.

A second later, there was insistent knocking at the door. "Max, open up!" came Fang's voice, as close to shouting as it ever got for him.

I heard Nudge's voice, sounding scared. "Max, what's wrong? Let us in!"

"I'm fine, guys," I called unconvincingly through the door, hating the way my voice shook. "Just leave me alone, kay?" The last thing I needed right now was for Angel to read my mind.

Fang actually sounded angry. "No, it's not okay! Open this door!"

Just go away, Fang, I pleaded silently. All of you, go away.

Maybe they can help, suggested the Voice, sounding unusually gentle.

Oh, yeah, maybe they can apply for being my hearse driver or something, once I finally croak, I snarled back. That'd be helpful! I tuned out the noise coming from the door.

I could see the tombstone now. Here lies Max, Avian American, escaper of bullets, Erasers, and mad scientists, lover of cute shoes and chocolate chip cookies, brought down tragically by a freaking disease only ancient people get when they pathetically inhale someone else's coughing germs. It'd have to be a pretty dang big tombstone, but we could make it work. Or rather, they could.

Oh, my God. I don't have a will. I should make one. But what did I have that I could leave to anyone? Leadership of the flock, to Fang. My clothes could go to Nudge. Ha. Yeah, right. She'd probably burn them. I would leave my sight to Iggy, if I wasn't worried he might suddenly get the hots for Fang or something.

I lay down flat on the bunk. If I had been stronger, would this not have happened? If I were a better leader, would I still have been out there with the flock right now, pigging out on McCrap? Would the other kids develop it as well?

Then I had a thought that made me jolt upright on the bunk – and immediately give myself a world-class knock on the head from the bunk above. Was it contagious?

My head was throbbing but in the next instant I was across the room, tearing apart our packs ina vain attempt to find the laptop we had been using. I cursed when I remembered Fang had kept it so he could update his stupid blog regularly. I found it hard to believe thousands of kids were logging on every day just to keep tabs on us. I mean, who wants to read about six mutant hygiene-challenged kids who considered brushing their hair an achievement? Well, you are. But that's different.

Maybe I could log on to the computers in the research room. Yeah. That could work. I looked around the room, focusing on the small porthole I had once slated as an escape option when we first arrived. It would be a tight squeeze, but I would most likely make it. It was probably a good thing I hadn't eaten any McDonald's, after all.

Cautiously, I popped open the hatch, hoping the creaking wouldn't attract attention, as the hallway had gone silent. Duh, I berated myself. It's a boat. It was built to creak.

I backed out feet first, wriggling a bit as my torso just barely squeaked past.j I hung from the tiny window by just my fingertips for a second, thinking how unfortunate it would be if a shark swam by just then and decided feathers would make a good addition to his diet.

Bracing my feet against the side, I pushed off and snapped my wings out simultaneously. My sneakers just barely brushed the surface of the water untilI rose above the deck and saw there was truly not a soul in sight. I would be so screwed if someone saw me right now.

Soundlessly I crept to the stairway and made my way to the research center without any problems.

And that was when the stupid computer asked for a password. Technology sucks.

"Maxride", "Fang", and "Password" did nothing (not like I expected those would work), but "ElizabethK", the stupid ancient boat we were on, got me in.

I found a page on tuberculosis, and scanned it, desperately looking for answers. When I found it, my head sagged forward to hang on my hands. No. No.

I'm not sure how long I sat there, numb, unthinking, but voices coming down the hall sent me back to reality. Quickly, I closed down the program and dove under the desk.

Dr. Papa and Brigid entered the room, talking quietly.

"…worried. Should we do something?"

"No. This is their business. And besides, I don't know how we can help. I mean, I don't know about you, but Max never opened up to me."

I heard Brigid sigh. "No, I guess not. As upsetting as it is, it's actually pretty sweet to just see them out there, waiting by the door, saying they won't move until she comes out." She sounded almost wistful for a moment.

"She's one heck of a leader. I wish I were as tough as her." The two moved on, out of the room.

Sneakily, I crept out from under the desk and stole abovedecks again. I made it bacfk to the room without incident.

I lay on the bunk again, staring up yet seeing nothing. This still had an alien feeling, like any second now the cameras would pop out and I would be an unknowing star on the reality TV show Gullible at its Max. And I could continue living with my flock, my five wonderful best friends.

I didn't realize I was crying until I felt the wetness on the pillow next to my face. I raised my arm to wipe them away, then lowered it and allowed the tears to continue down my cheeks. I knew what I had to do, but I couldn't help trying desperately to come up with any other option that I could possibly entertain even for a second.

But somehow I knew, by instinct yet again, I wouldn't find one.

A/N: Poor Max.. Again, sorry it takes so long! I'll try and be better about updating!