Chapter 3, yay! Time for some more action! Sorry, its a short chapter. My birthday is tomorrow, and my friends are over today, didn't want to spend too much time on the computer...

DeathAngels1996-Very funny! The bubblegum was a nice touch. :D


***Max's POV***

"Mr. Chu? Wait, I mean, Robert? What are you doing here?" I snorted with laughter. "And, like, what happened to your lizard head?"

Mr. Chu didn't seem impressed by my memory. In fact, he seemed rather irritated.

"Max, I will make this short and simple. You have been a problem. A major problem. We have offered you chances to work for us-"

"Work for you? Work for you?" I interrupted, my fury level rising by the second. "No, you wanted to sell us like furniture to the highest bidder! And if you are coming to us again with your little offer, then I'll give you my answer. You can take that offer and shove it up you skinny, green-"

"Now Max, no need for that," said Mr. Chu. "Please, let me finish. As I was saying, we have offered you chances to redeem yourselves, and you have refused every one. Now, we have come to take care of you troublesome mutants."

At that, I decided I'd had enough. I noticed that these Erasers had no wings either, so they couldn't follow us. I made the signal for an up-and-out but Nudge shook her head ever so slightly. I frowned at her, wondering what the problem was. She motioned torward the Erasers. I took a closer look.

All of the Erasers were armed with guns.

And I'm not talking about little pistols, they had big sub-machine guns and the like. How did I miss that, I wondered.

"What do you want, Chu-chu train?" I asked. "It's simple, Max," he replied.

"I want you to die."


You know, being tied to a pole in a big muddy pit about to be filled with tons of concrete isn't as fun as you would think.

"Max, I'm scared. How are we gonna get out of this one?" Nudge whispered to me. I didn't know what to feel. You knew it was bad when one of the flock admitted to being scared.

"It'll be okay, Nudge. I've got a plan." I didn't, obviously. She gave me a weak smile. I felt terrible about lying to her, but I couldn't let her give in! We had to keep fighting, or we would never get out.

We were tied in a circle around a pole in the middle of the pit. Apparently the were going to fill the hole with cement-with us in it. I screwed my eyes shut, trying to think of a way out of this situation.

Come on Voice, I practically screamed in my head. Now would be a great time to, I don't know, GET US OUT OF HERE! I didn't expect anything. I didn't get anything, either.

The one Eraser they left behind to operate the mixer was was watching us. Abruptly, he turned and climbed into the cab of the mixer. When he was out of sight, Iggy pressed something into my hands.

It was a knife, a medium-sized pocketknife. "Where did you get this? You know I don't like weapons," I told him. "Forget that! Just cut the ropes, I cant see," he said urgently.

I sawed off my own ropes, then I got to work on the others. The Eraser had began poring the cement. It was oozing towards us.

I was almost done, I just had to get Dylan and Gazzy untied and then we were off. But, it had taken longer than I thought. A lot longer. The others had flown out of the pit when I cut their bonds, but Dylan and I were still in the pit. "Hey!" I shouted up at the now free flock members. "Go turn the cement off!" They nodded and rushed to the mixer.

The cement was up to our knees, and rising quickly. "Go!" Dylan shouted over the noise of the cement mixer. I shook my head. I wasn't going to leave a member of the fl- I mean a fellow mutant behind.

"It won't turn off!" shouted Gazzy. "It's jammed!" I groaned.

My feet were cold. I tried moving them. It took all my strength to shift them a few inches. The cement was hardening. It was making it difficult to cut Dylan's bonds. "Go!" said Dylan again. I looked up at him. His eyes were desperate. Not a selfish desperate. He wanted me to get out, even if it meant that he would be covered in cement. "Just go, Max!" he screamed. The cement was now up to our chests. I looked at him one last time, his unbelievably handsome face flecked with wet cement and contorted by struggle, struggle with the cement, struggle with...me.

"Go," he whispered.

I shoved the knife into his hands and slogged out of the half-dry cement, my wings beating powerfully as I struggled to lift myself out of the deadly mixture. After a few nerve-wrecking seconds, I managed to get out of the pit. I called to the flock. We took off, flying away from the site.

"But...wheres Dylan?" asked Nudge. I stared grimly ahead. "Oh," she said softly.


Mmm, a plot twist! But don't worry, Dylan is stronger than he looks...

R&R, PEOPLE!(Not you, DeathAngels1996. You've been a good little reader, yes you have!)