Maximum Ride: Finding Myself, Chapter 7
Fang stared at the ghost town, with a look of stupidity and disbelief that would have made Max laugh... Hard.
Running and his hand through his hair, only to have it fall promptly back into his eyes. So much for a town with civilization. How about one with at least one living thing? ... Besides moss that was everywhere.
He turned in a full three-sixty and thought about a place to go instead. Oklahoma... Louisiana... Mississippi...Kansas... Texas.
Texas.
Texas!
That was where he would go. Fang couldn't say why, but he felt drawn to the place, perhaps because this was where he had kissed Max on their mission to find a house.
Even now, her beauty, as then, took his breath away.
Her hair, her chocolate eyes, and her gorgeous brown speckled wings.
Her lips, soft as a cloud, sure as God.
Just... Max.
Fang stomach grumbled, one thing added to the list of many things wrong with him lately.
# 1... Maxsickness
# 2... Heartache
# 3... He really could go one, but got back to the immediate situation.
Where in Texas would he go?
The only two places he knew for sure were in Texas were Austin, and El Paso. Fang really didn't fell like going to the over populated, hyperventilating capitol, so El Paso it was.
He flipped out his wings, and, running lightly, jumped into the air.
Down-stroking hard, he wheeled in the sky, adjusting his feather tips in the - by his internal senses- direction of El Paso, just like the hawks taught him.
He wondered if there would be any vacation houses he could hijack, just to get some food and Z's. 'Cause both he and the good lord both knew he wouldn't make it if he was outta fuel.
Then he might not last to see Max.
He set a mental timer. On your mark, Get set, GO! And was off.
Streaking as fast as he could to El Paso, he hoped, and beating his wings up and down like a maniac.
The race was on.