yay! another chapter! Still waiting for the action, guys? haha... i know it's like, slow... but fighting will come soon, promise :) again, SOOOO sorry for the lateness!... i know its been like, two months... hope you haven't all deserted me... D: I'm trying to finish it earlier. really. gahh! forgive me! hope you like this chapter :)
(Max's POV)
Around nine PM, I'm able to fall asleep. It's been a hectic few days and I'm relieved for any interruption to this nightmare.
Soon I begin to dream. At first it's the typical abstract, loopy dream sequences that usually result from being pumped full of painkillers. Eventually, though, it turns into something clearer, sharper. Scarier.
I'm in a cage, a tiny dog kennel that I don't really fit in. My muscles are cramped from lying like this, all twisted and tight, and my neck is bent uncomfortably to the right but I can't move to fix it. It's cold and my eyes sting, and I want to close them...
As soon as I do, though, I hear the little door squeak open and icy, gloved hands roughly pull me out. I scrape my arm against the medal and I open my eyes to see it bleeding.
I'm being carried across a wide, brightly lit hallway, where everything is white. It hurts my eyes more and I want to shut them again but something tells me I should stay alert.
I don't even think to look up at who's got me, but it feels like I'm being carried by a robot, or Frankenstein. No emotion. I'm like an object.
We turn a corner and enter what looks like an autopsy room. I'm set down on the steel table, with only the freezing metal beneath me-not even that crinkly white paper doctors use for sanitation. I shiver and can almost hear my bones rattling.
I lick my chapped lips and smell the air-it reminds me of a hospital, and of death. It smells so bad...
"Where am I?" I ask, my voice weak with exhaustion.
"Shut up," comes a man's voice. I hear him typing.
"Who are you?" Curiosity, unfortunately, gets the better of me.
Something blunt and cold is pressed against my arm. Electricity courses through me, scattering all conscious thought. Ohmygod Ohmygod I'mgonnadie...
I lie paralyzed on the table when I hear another person enter the room. "What are we doing today? she asks, snapping a pair of gloves as she puts them on. She sounds almost cheerful. It makes me sick.
My mind slips into a pit of subconsciousness. That's probably for my good. I'm slightly aware of things happening, painful things, like burning and more stinging and even being injected, but I mentally block whatever is being done.
I'm brought back when I'm picked up again, more sore and tired and brain-scrambled than before. I'm breathing shallowly, with each short inhale leaving an intense pain behind. I'm afraid to take a big breath.
We reach the end of the hallway and go back into the room I came from. I observe it now-a row of cages, some small, some bigger than others. They're all empty. In front of them is a row of more steel tables, every one empty as well. The light is flickering, making shadows move on the floor. The person holding me takes a right and walks a little further.
To my astonishment, a little pale face looks out at me from behind the bars of a small kennel. He has blonde hair and big blue eyes; his face is dirty. Zephyr, my cousin? Or-what was his other name-the Gasman?
Despite my confusion and dread, my eyelids lower. I'm tossed back into my cage. I hear myself cry out, but it's like-I'm gone. My vision changes to flashes of faces-Zephyr, my sister Ariel, the scientists who had me, Dr. Martinez, and a face I don't recognize: a middle-aged man, wearing glasses and he was balding, but had a little graying hair left. His eyes were sad, drained... I felt his despair. Who...?
The smell of hospitals and pictures of lab tables, mazes, cages, blood and feathers hit e like machine gun pellets. The sound of me and other peoples' screams and yells for help ring in my ears.
In the back of my mind I remember that this is a nightmare, all made up. I try to will myself to wake. I push at my consciousness like I'm buried beneath it.
I wake up and my blood is singing-I can feel every cell speeding through my veins like Nascar drivers. I'm burning up and almost wish I was back on that steel table, when I could barely feel anything.
I clutch my sheets to my chest and concentrate on my breathing, finally getting it back to normal. Where the hell did all that come from? I didn't think I had horror like that hidden in my mind. God... what's the matter with me?
I look around the dark room and see that I'm alone. I check the clock: 1:13. I want someone to be awake; maybe a familiar face will calm me down. I get out of bed and walk out the door.
The first person I see is Nudge, asleep on a bench against the wall. I decide to leave her be. I wander into the dim waiting room.
I notice one of the teenage boys-Dylan-dozing in a chair. For some reason, his still face soothes me. He wasn't in the right world, where I was Mackenzie, and he wasn't in my dream either. He's practically a stranger.
I sit next to him, being careful not to wake him up and slowly lower my head to his shoulder. He stirs.
"Hm-Wha?" I hear him mumble.
"I had... a bad dream," I say, my voice shaky, my face hot from blushing. This is so stupid. But he seems to accept this, because he relaxes and soon I hear him snoring softly again. Soon I'm able to go back to sleep, this time a deep, dreamless one.
(not Max's POV)
Fang spirals down towards the CSM hospital, a backpack full of chocolate muffins, powdered donuts and Poptarts in his arms. He closes his eyes, deftly angling through the tall trees with nothing more than instinct and memory. His feathers brush the rough bark of a tree and he lands gently in the dirt.
He heads inside the hospital, folding his wings in and slinging the backpack over his shoulder. He nods good morning to the receptionist and strolls into the waiting room-
And stops short when he sees them.
The sunlight coming through one of the windows streams down onto Max, making each strand of her messy brown-blonde hair shine. Her head is resting on Dylan's shoulder.
Fang, without a word, unzips the backpack and empties its contents right onto the floor. "Hey! What are you doing?" the receptionist exclaims, standing up.
Fang turns to leave the hospital. He hears someone walking into the waiting room behind him.
"Fang! Where are you going?" Angel asks. "And, um... why are there muffins on the floor?"
Angel doesn't really need to ask, though. She glances towards the still sleeping Max and Dylan and knows what Fang feels. His thoughts are tangled and hard to tell apart.
"Are you gonna back?" she asks.
Fang stops and shrugs, facing Angel, managing to keep an even expression. "Probably."
"Okay." And with that, understanding his actions, she lets Fang go. Through a window she sees him take off into the air, his midnight wings briefly eclipsing the morning sun.
She's picking up the fallen pastries when Max finally awakens. Angel ignores her till Max says, "...Why are their muffins on the floor?", just like Angel had asked.
"Just parting gifts from our friend Fang," Angel says crisply, glancing disapprovingly up at Max and Dylan.
"What?" Max asks, stretching.
"Nothing." Having picked up all the food, Angel leaves the room.
(Max's POV)
Back in my room, I'm talking with Iggy and Nudge over lunch. We've been discussing whether or not the 'applesauce' tastes more like tapioca or oatmeal and wondering what that reddish-brownish stuff sprinkled on the top is because it doesn't really taste like cinnamon. Bleh. CSM hospital food.
"So," I say, setting down my orange juice and waiting for them to stop laughing. "Um... did we used to live at this hospital-like place? I mean, that's really random, but I had-" I stop when I see their dumbstruck faces.
I decide to add more details from my dream, to see if I get any reaction. "...With cages, and scientists, and like-" They still look all deer-in-the-headlights. "Okay... now you guys talk."
"The School," Iggy mumbles cryptically.
"That is...?"
"Did you remember it? All of it?" Nudge asks.
"Well, I dreamed it. God, it was horrible... they shocked me, and I could feel it. The Gasman was there..."
"Yeah. We lived there," Nudge interrupts.
"For how long?"
"You were there for longer than me." She shrugs, and looks away, covering her mouth with her hand.
"We were all there?" I swallow. Iggy nods. Poor Ariel-I mean, Angel...
"Could you, um. Tell me about it?" I ask. "When I was dreaming, I felt... like I was getting the real me back. And now, I don't know whether it's Mackenzie, or Max."
They stare at me blankly-well, Nudge does. Being blind, Iggy can only stare blankly, I guess.
Just then Dr. Martinez walks into the room, holding papers that she reads from: "These charts say your blood pressure is good, heart rate is normal-for you, anyways-and your injuries are healing up well. We can take you home."
Nudge stands up, then reaches down to give me a hug. "You can go home!"
"Yeah... that's..." My smile falters. "Um, where's home?"
"Well, actually, I live in Arizona," says Dr. Martinez, "but there's a CSM safehouse nearby we're all staying at."
Hmm. Another 'CSM' thing. I don't know... but it's gotta be better than the hospital.
"Yeah, okay," I say, sitting up. "Let's go."
The safehouse isn't what I expected. I thought it'd resemble the hospital in some way: shiny white floors, white walls, white everything. I thought there'd be doctors and a receptionist and hospital beds, but nope. Thank goodness it's not like that.
It looks like a normal house, not expensively furnished, but it has enough so one could live in it comfortably. Plus, there's no antiseptic smell here; actually, it smells like cookies in the oven, because there are cookies in the oven. As soon as the flock took a whiff of the sweet chocolatey air, they ran to the kitchen as if there was no tomorrow. Then, they devoured their cookies without even drinking their milk, as if they never get chocolate chip cookies or something. Weird.
I eat mine like a sane person, chewing slowly and enjoying the warm deliciousness Dr. Martinez had baked. She had put them in the oven and then came to the hospital to get me-I'm just glad they aren't burnt or anything.
Ella sits down next to me. I'm told she's my half-sister. She smiles brightly (something I haven't seen in a long while... when people smile at me, it never reaches their eyes) and asks me how I'm doing.
I nod, and finish off my cookies. "I'm fine. A little tired," I admit.
"Are you going to take a nap?"
"No." Even though I'm tired, I don't think I'd be able to sleep. It's a strange feeling.
"Oh. Want to come outside with me and the others? There's a pond behind the house."
I shrug. "Sure." We get up from the kitchen table and walk out into the hallway. I look at the walls; there are photos of CSM people doing CSM things, like rescuing seabirds from oil spills and holding car washes to fundraise for worthy causes. Savior type stuff. They're all smiling and helping each other, and it really does seem like this company is changing a lot of things in the world, for the good. I feel a weird sense of pride that my 'mother' (haha) is part of this organization.
We walk outside, around the house and through the woods a little ways. Soon I see the pond, pretty with the reflecting trees and sky. No noise, either. It's so peaceful.
I see Iggy perched on the end of a log that's reaching into the lake. Geez. I thought he was blind. How can he stay there?
"Max! Can we go swimming?" Angel comes running up to me, but then her face falls. "Ella, can we go swimming?"
"Um, yeah, I guess. Since it's not really cold."
"Yay!" She runs back over to the Gasman (they tell me I can just call him Gazzy) and they cannonball in from the log Iggy's still sitting on. He stands and dives into the water, surfacing and laughing.
I feel a pang of sorrow. Actually, more than a pang, more like a flood of agony. I miss Nick and his normal-ness, his familiarity. I miss his face and his smile and his voice. I can still feel his closeness like he just left.
A tear escapes from my eye and I wipe it away, embarrassed. I'll see Nick again someday. Maybe Fang-are they the same person? I don't know. He's so distant, like we were never even friends, like something happened between us a while ago. Nick was just Nick, a genuinely great guy.
But every time I see Fang, there's the hint of butterflies in my stomach, but it's not as strong as it was when I was around Nick. But whenever I look at Fang, I feel so close to my real life I can almost taste it.
Ugh. Boys.