Thanks so much to candygrrl, Jessica Jay Jackson, and Xx-ThisSucks-xX for commenting! I'm happy you like the story!

Well, here's the next chapter!

Disclaimer: I don't own Maximum Ride.

Chapter 1:

It's been a week since Angel disappeared. A week since Fang left with his flock again. A week since Dylan and I had started experimenting with our feelings toward each other. It's been a week since my mom, Ella, and Jeb have gone missing, leaving me worried beyond belief for them. I keep hoping that one day they will show up, saying how they were off at Disney World or something and forgot to mention it to us. But I knew that was impossible.

For one thing, they didn't exactly go off missing in one large group. My mom and Jeb had sort of walked out of the house together, falling off of the face of the earth within the space of a minute. Ella had sneaked away while everyone else was asleep, leaving a note via dirt in the cave we were sleeping in, telling us that she was 'Born to have wings'. We don't know where she went off to, but I suspect it was toward the facility that we had worked so hard to stop back at France last week (See previous adventure, book seven). Iggy has been worried sick for Ella, seeing as those two have really been getting comfortable with each other these past few weeks. Frankly, I always thought of Iggy as my son, and having him and Ella crushing on each other- Well, it was pretty weird. But they seemed happy, so I didn't really say anything. Now, I felt heart broken for Iggy, and worried out of my mind for my sister.

Thus concluding my feelings over this past week in a nutshell.

Anyway, now we were back at my mom's place in Arizona, hoping that maybe they'll pop up again so we don't have to search so hard. We've been taking turns surveying the area, keeping up with where they might be and where they're not. Dylan and I have been out the most, circling so far as the state borders, but always coming home with nothing except hunger and hopelessness. I swear, if Jeb had anything to do with this, I will kill him with a rusty saw, and throw the remains in a ditch, leaving him for the crows. Killing Jeb was definitely way up there on top of my list of priorities, right next to saving the world and finding my half-sister and mother. Maybe even up there with finding Angel again.

In case you haven't been caught up with us yet, you have to know this: Angel is either dead, or taken hostage, or in hiding. Ever since the explosion in France, leaving us with only her bloody shoe to revive, these are the only options. She'd changed since the books five and six fiasco. She's actually started acting like her old self again, siding with me more often, not trying to be such a control freak.

And now, she was gone.

We don't cry often. Not me, not Fang, or anyone else. But when that explosion happened, and we couldn't find Angel anywhere, it took a lot for us not to cry. The only ones who could pull it off were Fang and Dylan, and even then with great difficulty. We all loved Angel. She was our baby. I myself had taken care of her practically since birth. Having her gone was like having someone rip a hole in my heart, a hole that didn't need to get any bigger since Fang had ripped most of it open when he left me the first time.

Now they were both gone: Fang with his flock, and Angel possibly in the abyss. Dylan and I were starting to get more comfortable with each other, ever since that kiss up at Paris. Yes, I know, the romantic city of love. How cheesy. But it wasn't actually that bad. Dylan's definitely not that bad of a kisser, and he cares for me. In a way, even Fang agreed that we should be together. Just before he left, he nodded at Dylan in a It's your turn, take care of her, gesture that made my heart squeeze. So far, Dylan was doing a pretty good job at it, too. In a way, I never really left his site, and he was always there for me when I needed someone to talk to or a someone to laugh with. Just like Fang was with me.

I find myself comparing the two a lot, lately.

Angel once told me that I needed to figure out my feelings, that I needed to pick either Fang or Dylan or neither, and move on with my life. I had chosen Dylan. So far, I haven't regretted it, and neither has he.

Looking out the window, I saw the woods, the trees reaching up to the sky, trying to touch the sun. It took everything in me not to leap out of the window and take off, flying away from troubles, from the constant reminder that we were now missing two member of the flock, one of them never to return. I couldn't believe where these past two years had gone, what had happened. One second, we were living our lives, trying to keep enough food in the fridge. Now, we were constantly on the run, trying to stay alive.

I couldn't help but feel like I've failed, having Angel die, slipping completely from my grasp. I couldn't save her, couldn't even try.

Turning from the window, I walked into the house, being greeted by the site of Nudge, sitting on the couch, flipping through the channels. Ever since Angel... died, Nudge has been more quiet, which would be a miracle if it weren't for the reason why. Iggy was in the kitchen, working on dinner. Ever since Ella had left, he had been more closed off, worried. And when Angel... Well, he wasn't doing very well.

But by far, there was no one as heartbroken by this latest turn of events than Gazzy. When we flew here, he had never let go of her shoe, the only thing left of her. On our first night here, he cried in the boys' room, Iggy trying to comfort him, but failing. Gazzy was broken, a shell of himself since Angel's death.

To say that we had our issues would be an understatement.

I went into the kitchen, opening the fridge to get some milk. When I reached for a cup, Iggy saved me the trouble and grabbed one for me, giving it to me lightly before turning away, back to his tacos. "Thanks," I mumbled lightly, pouring the milk.

He shrugged, taking a spatula and pressing the meat against the pan, hearing the sizzle of it cooking. Yes, Iggy is blind. Yes, he cooks. He also builds bombs and feels colors. Have a problem with that?

Didn't think so.

I sat against the counter, taking a sip of milk, then placing it on the counter in between me and the stove. "How are you doing, Iggy?" I asked him, looking at his eyes, the half-circles-like-bruises underneath them.

He sighed, shaking his head. "No better than you, no doubt. Or Gazzy," he added, his blind eyes glancing toward the hallway.

I nodded. "He'll adjust," I said softly, picking a peace of cooked beef from the pan and blowing on it, popping it into my mouth. "Just give him time."

Iggy shook his head, letting out a deep breath. "I just hope..." He trailed off, moving aside the beef.

"I know," I said, touching his shoulder. "He'll be okay. Just wait."

"He won't even make bombs with me anymore," he whispered, turning off the stove. "Gazzy, my partner-in-crime, won't make bombs with me anymore."

"What do you expect?" I asked, looking into his blind eyes. "His sister died in a bomb explosion! I wouldn't be surprised if he stays away from them for a few months." His breath hitched, and I lowered my voice, unaware that I had raised it. "I'm sorry, Iggy. I guess things are a little hectic around here, huh?"

He let out a deep breath. "You have no idea," he whispered.

I sighed, shaking my head sadly. "I'm going to go check on him," I said as I stepped away from the counter. "How long until dinner?"

Iggy shrugged. "About five, six minutes?"

"I'll tell him," I said, turning to leave. Before I did, I wrapped my arms around Iggy, giving him a sisterly hug. "We'll find her, by the way," I whispered against his shoulder, so low so only he could hear it. "She can't be far, Iggy. We'll find her. She can't hide from us for long."

He was silent, his eyes closed. "I know," he said finally, his voice husky.

I left him alone, walking through the hallway into the boys' room, the lights off, as always. On the bed where Fang used to sleep was Dylan's covers, lighting up the used-to-be black bedsheets. Now, they were light gray and blue, a definite difference than Fang's always dark... Well, everything.

But now, Fang was gone, and Dylan was here.

And really, I wasn't mad over that fact.

See, Fang had left a month or so ago, leaving me with Dylan and the flock. At first, I was heartbroken, ticked off, and all-together furious at Fang. But when he came back and brought Max 2, aka Maya, things had changed. He had grown to like Maya, and I had grown to... Not hate Dylan.

All-in-all, this was all one big, sticky mess. One that we had to conquer alone.

So much for the whole 'see-you-in-twenty-years' thing. That was shot down the drain a week ago.

I walked over to Gazzy's bed, seeing the sad lump beneath the sheets. Poor kid. If I could turn back time, I would. I would have went down there myself instead of him. If I died, that was fine. As long as Angel survived and Gazzy didn't have to go through this.

You know that's not how it would have happened, Max.

I sighed. The Voice again. Shut-up, Voice. Make yourself useful for once and leave me alone.

Max, if you died, then the flock would have grieved over you just as much as they do with Angel. Unfortunately, Max, the world needs you more than it needs Angel. You are the only one who can save it Max. If you died, there would have been no hope.

But by Angel being dead, I've already failed, I thought at it angrily, carefully pushing Gazzy's covers away, revealing his face. What use am I to the rest of the world?

Just one dead person is nothing compared to billions, Max, the Voice said, no sympathy in or emotion lacing its words, like always. Think about that.

I sighed as I sensed that it was gone. Touching Gazzy's cheek, I whispered, "Wake up, sleepy head. It's time for dinner."

Gazzy opened his eyes, revealing two bloodshot orbs, as always. "Can you just bring it in here, like you have all week?" he asked, his voice gruff.

"Not today, precious," I whispered, taking his hand. "Nudge misses you. She wants to see your little blonde head again."

"Tell her to grab a picture of me in the living room," he snapped, letting go of my hand and pulled the blankets above his head again. "I'm not leaving," he said, his voice muffled beneath the covers.

I sighed, pulling the blankets down, grabbing his arms and making him sit up. "Either you go in the dining room nicely, or I will force you there." I leaned close to whisper in his ear, "Iggy's making tacos. Perfect night to make them all run for the hills."

"Why don't you just bring it in here?" he whined, looking at me sadly.

My heart broke for him. "Because you need to get out of here. See a little light for once. You're as pale as a ghost in here." Which was the truth. His cheeks were white, his lips pale.

He sighed. "We never even got to bury her," he whispered, staring at her shoe on the floor, bending over to pick it up. "Never even a proper funeral."

"Do you want us to?" I asked, grabbing the shoe through his hands. "Take her shoe and bury it in the backyard, like a regular funeral? Would that make you feel better?"

"No," he said honestly. "Well, maybe. It'll help her rest in peace, at least, right?"

I nodded, tears beginning to brim my eyes. "We'll do it tomorrow, big guy," I said, kissing his greasy head. When was the last time he showered? "For now, why don't we eat some tacos? I'll save an extra big pile of refried beans for you." I smiled. The boys will kill me later, but I didn't care. As long as it got Gazzy smiling again.

He nodded, standing. Grabbing my hand, we walked into the dining room, Nudge and Dylan happy to see him. Iggy was glad enough hearing his footsteps, a smile broadening his usually grim face. "Hey, dude," he said, giving him an extra big pile of tacos, beans on the side. "How are you doing?"

"Fine," he lied grimly, but at least he was making an effort. "We're holding a funeral for Angel tomorrow," he said, looking at me. I nodded.

"That's a good idea, Max," Nudge said, nodding. "Really good. But what are we burying?"

"Her shoe," I explained, sitting on Gazzy's right, in between him and Nudge. "You all in?"

"I'm in for it," Dylan said, grabbing some tomatoes for his taco.

"I'm in," Nudge repeated, grabbing a hard shell.

"I was wondering what was taking so long," Iggy said, sitting on Gazzy's left.

And with that, I finally got Gazzy to eat with us again. After a full week of solitude, he was finally in the light, eating a taco and joking lightly with the rest of us about who would run out of the house first if Gazzy let one loose. It was like old times, sort of.

For now.

That's it for now! Hope you guys liked it! :)