Okay...
Chapter Three.
:)
I don't own Maximum Ride. However, I do own pudding.
*nom nom*
Never mind.
Chapter Three
Jeb Batchelder had been one of the Whitecoats, A.K.A. the scientists back at the School. Five years ago, he had helped us escape, taking us to live with him in the mountains.
He was the closest thing I've ever had to a father.
But he was dead. We all knew it. When he hadn't come home three years ago, we all knew.
So how was it that he was right in front of me at that very moment?
"J-Jeb?" I gasped, my eyes threatening to overflow with tears.
He nodded, smiling at me. "Maximum Ride. How good it is to see you," He hugged me, bringing back memories of my childhood: Learning to fight, learning to how to read. Attempts (and fails) to teach me how to cook.
This couldn't be Jeb. Not here, not now.
"It's really me, Max." He said, as if reading my mind.
That didn't really cut it for me, though. I looked at him sceptically.
"Perhaps I should explain," he said, gesturing to a table with several of those swirly chairs around it. "Dr. Martinez, would you please join us?" He said slightly louder, looking to the woman at the desk.
Sure enough, the woman stood up, and I assumed she was the doctor herself. She had dark brunette hair and a smile on her face.
"Hello, Max," She said warmly.
"Okay, let's just skip the small talk," I said, turning back to Jeb, who was now seated in one of the above-mentioned chairs, "How are you alive?"
Jeb took a deep breath, once again motioning for me to take a seat across the table from him and Dr. Martinez, who was now sitting next to him.
I shook my head, crossing my arms across my chest. "Now." I growled.
"Fine. The School is looking for you." Jeb said.
In that instant, everything went into slow motion.
The scientists back at The School had kindly given us bird kids excellent senses; Keen hearing, raptor vision.
And, at that very moment, I caught a flicker of motion in the corner of my eye. I swung around, only to find myself face-to-face with one of my worst nightmares. Literally.
Many a night have I awoken in a cold sweat, after nightmares of running from the School's personal security dogs. Erasers.
"Long time, no see, Max." It growled, before swinging for my head. I ducked at the last second, its claw running over my forehead. My vision blurred with the warm goo of my own blood.
I wiped it away with my sleeve, pushing the pain to the back of my mind. I assessed my situation: Three hulking Erasers, who had busted through the window, were attempting to corner me.
Only one whole in their plan: I could fly.
Unfurling my wings, I climbed onto the table, counting to three before jumping up, over the Erasers. That was the idea, anyway.
Instead, one of them, the first one, grabbed my foot. I tried to kick it free, but he succeeded in pulling me to the ground.
"Play time's over. Now it's time to get back to School." He said, clubbing me over the head.
Then everything went black.