A/N: Let me start off by saying how sorry I am for the super late update! In the time I've been gone I've had almost a week in San Antonio and Austin, a week in Destin, and suffered through two weeks of torturous high school. And I lost all of chapter three and I have to totally redo it. I've also started CO-AUTHORING A STORY! Yes, really! It's a MR fic I'm doing with my best friend Megan, it's about Fang finding his mom, that's all I'll say. It's up on her page so check it out. Her screen name is WizardNinjaOfEpicAwesomeness and the story is called Selfish; if you like my stories you'll love hers, so read some of her other stuff if you like it!(: I'm also sorry for being so desperate for reviews last chapter. That really pissed a few of you off and of course I don't want that, so I apologize. SO without further ado, I give you CHAPTER THREE! Right after an important announcement from JP.

DISCLAIMER! "Hey FanFiction readers, James Patterson here. Claire doesn't own any of MY genius flying bird-kid ideas. The epic plot idea for this piece of writing, however, is hers and hers alone. NO TOUCHIE HER PLOTLINE, GOT IT? So yeah, enjoy her story I guess, just read all my MR books first or you won't get it."

A/N: OH! One more thing, and this is important, Fang is part of the flock in this fic, and so is Angel! They all care about Max as much as they did in the first few books and Fang loves her as much as he did in FANG. Now read on!

Chapter Three

Fang's POV

Earlier that day

The School, California

I woke up to the sound of honking cars. I guess that's what I got for sleeping in the city. I sat up from where I had slept on the rock-hard, California rooftop. I opened my wings and stretched my arms over my head, trying to work the stiffness from my joints. I laced my fingers together and bent them out in front of me, cracking all eight knuckles. I slid out of the thin sleeping bag I'd been sleeping on for the past couple of nights. Those nights were spent here in California, sleeping on a rooftop dangerously close to the school. The flock was home in Arizona, they knew I was looking for Max, and of course protested when I ordered them to stay put, but I had to do this alone.

I was here too late. I knew I was. She could be dead. Or worse than dead, because who knew what those white coats had in mind? I would have been here the day she disappeared, if it wasn't for the run-in I had with those erasers on the way here. You can't get very far on a broken leg. Sure, I can fly, but it's not like I can without breaks. And I defiantly can't fly at all with the horrible pain that lasted through the first week. Good thing I heal fast. The pain is still here, but at least I can walk fairly easily now. I stood up on the already-warm concrete and the pain spiked up my leg. My femur throbbed and ached and I felt like screaming, but I ignored it. I cursed myself for taking that fall to the ground a few weeks back. Maybe today was it, I should try to run. I sucked in a breath and sprinted across the rooftop. Halfway to the other end I finally couldn't take it anymore and opened my wings, sailing up above the world. I glided the short distance back to the other end of the roof and dropped down to pack everything up.

I unzipped my overused backpack, its black edges were worn and it's once crisp color was faded into a dark gray. Inside were most of my few belongings. An extra pair of jeans, a couple of T-shirts, some protein bars, a bit of money, along with a few more things I couldn't live without. I rolled up the sleeping bag and stuffed it into the pack. I slung everything over my shoulders; it settled itself uncomfortably between my wings. Maybe today wasn't the day I could come to Max's rescue, all that would earn me is a lifetime in a dog crate. But I absolutely had to get to her soon.

I flung myself off the edge of the rooftop with my wings already open, the cool October air was crisp and gliding through it was effortless, like a hot knife through butter. I steadily beat myself higher and higher until I was above the cloud line and invisible to anyone who was watching. I flew the short distance to that hellhole of a lab in no time and dipped down onto another roof. There it was, in plain sight for the whole world to see. The place I was made. The place I was raised. The place I escaped from again and again over the past few years. The place that still haunted my nightmares. It really is incredible no one had shut them down by now. Incredible no one's noticed the horror they've caused in hundreds and hundreds of children over the years. I glared at the place, as if staring it down could destroy it for good.

I settled in for a long day of watching the battered old building when red lights started flashing in its windows. I could hear the faintest trill of sirens coming from inside. This was it. Max was escaping. She must have finally figured a way out of there. I pushed myself into the air again, making wide circles around the place, watching the doorways, watching for her white and brown wings. It didn't take more than a few minutes to see her, but I was shocked when not one but two sets of wings took to the air. I lifted myself higher when I saw the mob of erasers show up behind them, but it was long enough to see she had some help escaping. My blood boiled at the sight of him. His disgustingly close distance from the girl I loved. Something about him made me want to rip his limbs off and set them on fire. I clenched my hands into fists, desperately wishing I could shove one of them down his throat.

Dylan.

Marissa's POV

The School, California

Marissa rubbed her tired eyes and gulped down more coffee, its delicious bitterness filled her mouth. It was important that she stay awake today. This was the first day Maximum and Dylan thought they were free it was crucial she kept track of them. "Brian, do you have visual?" She hissed into the mouthpiece. "Yes, Ms. Walton."

"Doctor!"

"Yes, excuse me, doctor. I have visual on the experiments; they're still asleep on the beach."

"Well! What are you waiting on? Record them! I need to make observations!" She squawked. The image literally appeared only a few seconds later, just the two of them asleep like Brian had said. They were lying in the rocky sand, Max half on top of Dylan, his arm loosely around her shoulders as he slept. Both sets of their wings were loosely folded and easily visible. She prayed they knew how to stay hidden. She'd try hard not to erase that from Experiment #1's mind, like she had erased countless other things. As if responding to her thoughts, the girl began to stir.

Max's POV

Somewhere, CA

The first thing I noticed when I woke up was the excessive amount of sand in my eyes. I rubbed the gritty little annoyances away. The second thing I noticed was the warmth of Dylan lying beside me, a smile slowly spread over my face when I realized he was with me. A huge yawn escaped my lips and I didn't even bother trying to hide it.

I took in the scene around me, rocky beach, roaring surf, clear skies. Then there was Dylan, his dirty blonde hair was a beautiful mess that was only slightly altered from the color of the sand. His closed eyes and relaxed features made him look younger and even more attractive. I smiled down at his sleeping form and brushed his tangled waves back. His steady breathing quickened, and his eyes fluttered open, exposing his teal irises that matched the ocean. He sat up, stretching out his arms and wings, stretching. "Good morning," I murmured with a smile. His lips spread over a perfect set of teeth. "Mornin'" he responded. His eyes honed on me only to flit away to the beach, the tree line, the rocky cliffs, the clear water. It was like he too had almost forgotten where we fell asleep last night, I know I did.

His eyes lazily glazed over me, studying every inch of me. I suddenly felt self conscious. I hadn't seen a mirror in three weeks. I was still in that disgusting hospital outfit. I just spent the night in the sand. My hair was a tangled mat. Every inch of me was caked in dirt, I felt filthy. "Let's go for a swim," I suggested, desperate to feel the salty water on my skin. "Let me wake up first," he said, almost laughing. He stood up and stretched some more. "You hungry?" He asked. "Yeah. You?" He nodded and sat back down in the sand, he unzipped a red backpack I hadn't noticed last night. Dylan tossed me a couple of granola bars and a lukewarm bottle of water. I smiled graciously and wolfed it all down quickly. He did the same with an identical breakfast. He tossed me a set of clothes that looked like they would fit me. I looked at him questioningly. "I'll go for a quick fly. Let you, er…change," he muttered awkwardly. I laughed at his embarrassed expression, he didn't seem like the type to act uncomfortable about something like this. "Thank you," I said, he seemed to have thought of everything. "'course," he smiled, and took a running start down the beach. I watched him take off, his chocolate wings strong and wide and powerful. He was incredible. I shook my head to clear it, I barely knew him. He was just so…amazing.

I took a second to look at the outfit he had gotten me. Short denim shorts, a tight red V-neck that was way too low cut for my taste. But hey, it was better than a hospital gown right? I undressed and was about to try everything on when I decided to go for a quick dip instead. I flew out a little ways from the beach, staying lower than I ever did to ensure Dylan wouldn't see me. I dove down into the salty water, scrubbed at my disgusting skin, rinsed every bit of sand from my tangled brown hair, and started making my way back to shore.

I dried off with the gross white gown that fit like a potato sack. I sighed at the sight of the stripper clothes. They defiantly weren't my first choice, but whatever. I slipped everything on. The top felt too tight and I was totally exposed, the shorts barely covered what they needed to. I put on my mud caked converse he had thought to bring for me. I smiled at the familiarity of the old shoes. They were the only thing that remained unchanged.

I considered going after Dylan, but decided against it, I didn't want to seem eager for him to see me like this. I squeezed the excess water from my hair, it already felt like straw. All of the sudden there was a prickling at the back of my neck, down my spine. My arms and legs were suddenly chilled. I whipped around, expecting an eraser. No one appeared, but I was somehow certain someone was watching me.

I scanned the tree line, and there it was, the tiniest little red light. Invisible from this distance with human eyes for sure. It was difficult for me to make out. I nonchalantly took to the air, like I was going for a morning flight myself. I started off toward the ocean, the direction Dylan had taken. I only stayed on the path for about ten seconds, then whipped around and rocketed towards the camera man. He wouldn't be expecting this, I was impossibly fast, and there's no way he could escape my reach. I dropped down a few feet behind him in the trees, hoping to flush him out.

It worked. He ran as fast as his little legs could carry him, which was not very quickly, and soon we were both out on the beach. I swept his legs out from under him, and was rewarded with the satisfaction of seeing him face plant and get a mouthful of sand. I put a foot on his back, putting most of my weight on him. He groaned. "Who do you work for?" I hissed.

I stifled a scream as ashen wings sprouted from his back. Growing on either side of my foot, which was planted square between his shoulder blades. "Please," he whimpered, "Let me help you."

"And why," I spat, "should I let a little peeping tom 'help me?'" I pushed down on him harder, he let out a moan. Whiney little bitch. His wings were tiny, there's no way he could fly. Unless he could actually grow them bigger, which wasn't anywhere close to impossible, knowing the school. His left wing slowly flapped, the right remained still. "I'm like you," his voice was hoarse and crackly. "You're nothing like me," I whispered, getting as much venom into my voice as I could with a low volume. I snatched a gray wing and pulled, half-expecting it to come off. He shrieked a few profanities at me, I brushed it off. "Now I asked you," I muttered, "Who do you work for?" I started twisting his feathery appendage. "Stop! Please!" I felt a twinge of pity for him, he was an experiment who seemed to be a white coat, he had no tolerance for pain, he looked twenty-five, and he was following me the morning after I escaped, filming me undress. I released his wing and removed my foot, but nudged him with the toe of my old sneakers. "Roll over," I commanded. Very, very slowly he did as I said and I studied his face. I lightly rested the same foot on his chest.

Greasy black hair fell over his gray-green eyes, his skin was ghastly pale, and dark stubble revealed that he hadn't shaved in a couple of days. "You're nothing like me," I said again. His pale eyes started spilling over tears.

I could barely make out the beat of his wings over the ocean, but as he got closer I could defiantly hear it. I kept my eyes on the man following us. "Max!" Dylan called, dropping down into the sand right behind me. He stepped up beside me. He put his foot next to mine on the man's chest. "Who is this?" He demanded. "I don't know," I answered, but I was spitting the answer down at the suspected-white coat. "He was filming me, he must have followed us," I muttered. Dylan looked murderous, he pressed down slowly on the man's chest, and I could swear I heard his ribs splintering. He let out a blood-curdling scream. "Who sent you here?" He said in a threatening monotone. He sounded so badass it was hard not to laugh, it was so unlike him. "I…I," Dylan moved his foot up to the man's throat. "The school, the school," he croaked. I rolled my eyes, of course that's who sent him. Dylan looked at the poor guy in disgust. His eyes glowered with hate. "Stay away from us," he whispered, and stomped down on his windpipe, crushing the life out of him. The man's eyes fluttered shut and his mouth spilled over with blood.

"Come on," Dylan said, holding his hand out to me, "We need to move on anyway."

A/N: DUNDUN DUNNNN… Okay, I'll admit, I'm not crazy about the ending. It's the best I could do, sorry guys. Hoped you liked it! Again, sorry for the late update. I'll try to be better about it, but that might be tricky with school. Reviews make me happy!