“Max, Max, look at this,” Nudge whispered, pointing. There, at the bottom of a long medical form, was the signature of Jeb Batchelder. “Oh, my gosh. Max—can you believe this? Fang?”
Fang came over silently and read over her shoulder. His eyes narrowed. I didn’t understand—how could Jeb Batchelder be here in Itex’s files? We were supposed to be finding out stuff about how evil Itex was—not about the scientists at the School.
Nudge clicked on a link, and a small media-player window popped up. It was labeled “Parents, two days post.”
A fuzzy video clip of a black couple started playing. The woman was crying, and the man had a pained, frozen expression on his face, as if he’d just seen a horrible accident. The woman was saying, “My baby! Who would take my baby? Her name was Monique! If anyone knows where my baby is, please, please bring her back. She’s my world!” The woman broke down sobbing and couldn’t go on.
This wasn’t the stuff we were supposed to be seeing. We were supposed to be looking at file after file about how Itex was polluting the planet, destroying natural resources, using child labor, and so on. Despite myself, I was intrigued by what Nudge was finding.
“That doesn’t make sense,” I said, after the video played. “We saw the medical consent form a few screens back.”
Nudge sniffled and clicked back to the form. At the bottom were signatures of Monique’s parents, authorizing someone named Roland ter Borcht to “treat” their baby.
But, now that we looked at them, the parent signatures looked exactly like Jeb Batchelder’s.
I didn’t know what to think. None of this agreed with what they had told me. What was real? Crying silently, Nudge continued to scroll through the file. Another photograph of the woman filled the screen. She looked older and incredibly sad. Stamped across the photo in red ink was the word “Terminated.”
Suddenly Iggy pulled his head out from under the counter. He was holding some wires in one hand. “Someone’s coming,” he said.
132
Freedom is still freedom, even if you’re soaked, practically nuts, and having trouble getting your muscles to cooperate.
First stop: the Twilight Inn. I checked it out carefully, but it seemed clear. The Echo was still in the parking lot. No one was in the room, however, though all of our stuff was still there. Was the flock out looking for me?
I wolfed down some food, then packed all of our stuff as fast as I could. I grabbed everything and took off, running twenty feet in the parking lot and leaping into the air, wings wide and gathering wind.
I kept up a constant surveillance, watching for flying Erasers, but saw nothing. The backpacks weighed me down too much—I needed to ditch them and have my hands free.
I hid our stuff at the top of a pine tree. Next stop: back to where I’d just busted out from. The more I felt like myself, the more myself felt like a murderous, enraged maniac. I tore through the night sky, rage rolling off me like steam. My whole life, the whitecoats had done countless heinous, inhuman, unforgivable things to me, to all of us. They had kidnapped Angel. But now they’d really crossed the line.
They had put me in a freaking tank!
I was amazed I was still coherent at all, could fly at all. I stayed out of sight, under the tree canopy, zipping through and among and between the pine trees.
When I shot out of the woods, I did a fast, fast circle around the whole compound, seven huge buildings. I backtracked my path, looking for a telltale broken window. And I found it. I’d just needed the confirmation that I’d really been held here, that this company was behind it. That Jeb was associated with Itex.
Now to find the flock.
Racing back to the woods, I screamed to a halt at the dark edge of the trees. I dropped lightly to the ground, shaking out my wings. I felt okay. Like I’d had the flu but was better now. My hands clenched and unclenched at my sides. I was eager for Erasers to show up. I was ready to rip something apart.
I pulled in my wings and sneaked through the shadows toward the main building.
I kept low to the ground, my eyes on the lighted windows of the building. Something hanging brushed my head, and I swiped at it absently. My hand touched something smooth and cool—and alive.
Stifling a gasp, I yanked my hand back, only to feel the something drop down on me with a thud. A snake!
I almost shrieked, but let out a horrified squeak instead.
133
Then there were snakes everywhere. Six- and seven-foot black snakes weredropping down on me, climbing my legs, winding around me, flicking me with their tongues. I was flinging them off me, doing a freaked-out dance, whirling, trying to shake them off. But they just kept coming.
I was about to completely lose it. If there was one thing I hated worse than small dark spaces, it was lousy snakes! “Oh God, oh God, oh God,” I panted, ripping snakes off me. I felt hysteria rising and knew I was gonna blow.
Hunching down, I gathered my muscles and sprang straight up into the air. I whooshed my wings out as hard as I could, shaking and shuddering as I felt snakes slithering all over them. Oh God, help, help, help! In the air I shifted gears and went into hypersonic mode. The snakes began to peel away from me, dropping off and falling into the darkness below. I was trembling so hard I could barely fly, and I finally kicked off the last of them.
Snakes! Horrible snakes! Where had they come from? I hated, hated, hated snakes.
You’re afraid of them, said my Voice, as cool and unruffled as always.
No freaking duh! I screamed inside my head.
Fear is your weakness. You must conquer all your weaknesses.
I was so horrified and furious that I thought I was gonna barf. Had that been another test? Had it all been in my imagination? My stomach was roiling, and adrenaline sang in my blood. My head was going to explode.
The flock. Have to get the flock.
Good, Max. Keep your eyes on the prize.
“Screw you, Voice.” I put my shoulders back, set my jaw, and did a 180, back to Itex.
Excellent, Max. Sometimes you amaze me.
134
How did this blind guy Iggy know someone was coming? He was like a bat! Maybe he had some bat DNA—
Crash!
Ari burst through the computer room doors.
“Scatter!” Fang yelled, launching himself at canine boy. What’s this bonehead doing here? I thought. I’d been expecting Itex’s expert termination team, not any of those half-assed wolves. Where were they? I looked at the clock, then decided to watch the two male mutants tear each other up on the floor.
That is, until I heard Gasman shriek, “Spiders!” An enormous swarm of spiders poured under the doors, a black carpet of crawly legs moving toward him like lava.
Ari suddenly broke free from Fang to explore other mealtime options. “Here!” I said. I grabbed Angel’s skinny arms and held her. She tried to push me toward the exit, but I braced my feet.
Grinning, Ari sprang forward and ripped a bite out of Angel’s forearm. She gave an earsplitting scream, and I winced.
“Nooo!” Fang bellowed across the room, but a cage dropped down out of nowhere and covered him.
“Rats! Rats!” Nudge wailed, scrambling onto a counter. She jumped from counter to counter, heading toward the door, but wherever she went, a river of squeaking pink-tailed rats scurried after her. Several ran up her jeans, and finally she just stood there shrieking, covering her face with her hands.
By now all of them were screaming at the top of their lungs. It was total craziness. Each person here, except me, was living out his worst nightmare, facing his biggest fear—even the dog. It was under a counter, staring horror-stricken at a bowl of generic dog food.
I was still holding Angel, who was struggling much harder than I thought she would. She kicked at both me and Ari, even though the huge gouge on her arm was running blood over my hands.
I couldn’t help smiling—she was a tough little mutant.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw F
ang staring at me in disbelief, hurling himself against the bars of his cage.
“Guys, guys!” Fang shouted. His deeper voice cut through the high-pitched wailing. “This can’t be real! It isn’t real!”
You wish, freak, I thought.
135
Get this: I could follow their scent. I didn’t know if this was a newly enhanced skill or if they were just riper than usual, but I could actually follow where the flock had gone.
They’d gotten in through the air vents, and I tracked them, even reversing course a couple times, as they must have done. Finally I knew that they were near, and by concentrating, I picked up on whispered conversation. I found a ceiling vent that looked down into a computer room in the basement, kind of similar to the computer room at the Institute. As if there were an interior decorator who specialized in working with mad scientists.
I saw Fang! He was standing guard at the door. Angel was keeping Total quiet. I changed my angle and looked farther into the room. Nudge was at a computer, reading something. Her cheeks were streaked with tears, which made my heart tighten. Then—I saw her.
The other me.
“Max, Max, look at this,” Nudge said, turning to her, and my blood ran cold.
I mean, she looked exactly like me, and as I watched, she flipped her hair back impatiently, the way I always did.
Fresh rage ignited in my chest, making it hard for me to breathe. They had actually made a backup Max and substituted her for me.
This was, like, a seventeen on a diabolical scale of one to ten.
I was going to kill the other Max. And what about my flock? How could they not know? How could she be that perfect a copy? But I swear, it was like watching a hologram of me, a video of me, interacting with Nudge.
I glanced around again—and saw Angel looking directly at me through the vent.
I pulled back immediately, not wanting her to give me away. Then I had a horrible thought: What if Angel thought I was the impostor? What if the fake Max had them snowed?
Oh God, I had to stop this now.
Grimly I started to undo the clips that held the ceiling vent in place. Then, below me, I spotted my favorite combat partner barreling toward the computer room. Ari. I would have to take care of him for good this time.
At the same time, I would have to take care of my ultimate enemy: me.
136
In the middle of the chaos and screaming, a crashing sound made our heads whip around. Unbelievably, the old Max, Maximum Ride, dropped through the ceiling vent into the room. Where had she come from? She was supposed to have been taken care of!
But here she was, and she looked sooo mad.
“My invite must have gotten lost in the mail,” she said venomously. “But I don’t mind crashing this party.”
In that instant, the rats, the spiders, and the cage disappeared. While everyone else blinked, looking around—giving new meaning to the word dumb—I cursed under my breath. A fine time for the big guys’ latest super-top-secret holographic virtual-reality system to crash. This—along with the untimely arrival of my charming predecessor—was going to make my job a little more difficult.
“Max?” Ari asked, staring at the other Max.
“Max!” Nudge shouted.
“Yes,” we both answered.
The other Max looked at me, and her eyes narrowed. “They say imitation is the sincerest form of flattery,” she said snidely. “So I guess you’re really sucking up.”
“Who are you?” I gasped, my eyes wide. “You’re an impostor!”
“No, she isn’t.” The little creepy one, Angel, turned to look at me. Her arm was still bleeding where Ari had bitten it. “You are.”
I swallowed my anger. Who did she think she was, her and her stupid dog? I gave a concerned smile. “But Angel,” I said, sincerity dripping from my voice, “how can you say that? You know who I am.”
“I think I’m Angel,” she said. “And my dog isn’t stupid. You’re the stupid one, to think that you could fool us. I can read minds, you idiot.”
137
My stomach dropped faster than a falling elevator. No one had told me that.
“Yeah, you idiot,” said the dog.
I gaped at him. Had he just talked? Was this a trick?
Maximum Ride was checking out the mutants, one by one. They hugged her, and I glared at her. I couldn’t believe she had shown up, ruining everything.
“Okay, let’s solve your personality crisis,” the other Max growled, turning to me. Her face was white, and her hands were clenched in fists.
“I was about to say the same thing,” I growled back, getting ready to fight. “Keep your hands off my flock!”
“Oh good, you two have met each other.”
We both whirled to see several scientists in white lab coats standing inside the doorway.
“Max, are you all right?” Jeb Batchelder asked.
I started to say yeah, but then saw he wasn’t looking at me. It was the other Max he was concerned about, the other one he cared about. I was expendable.
Fury rose in me. I was exactly like Max, I was Max, I was better than she was in every way. But to everybody here, I was chopped liver. Nothing. Nobody.
But then I heard one of the other scientists step forward and say in a deep voice, “Take out the old version. She’s no good. She’s got an expiration date.” He was looking at me to do the honors.
Without thinking, I launched myself at the other Max, right over a countertop, headfirst.
The other Max was braced, but I had insane jealousy and rage on my side. I managed to slam into her, knocking her against a wall. Instantly she regained her balance and squared off against me.
“You don’t want to do this,” she said in a low voice. “You don’t want a piece of me.”
“Wrong!” I said snidely.
“Uh, Max?” said Gasman. “There’s something you should—”
“Shut up!” I snapped at him, and threw myself at Maximum Ride again. The scientists and Jeb eased out of the way as we got deadlocks on each other and rolled across the counters. She managed to pull a fist back and punch me in the head, making me cry out.
I kneed her in the stomach and heard a satisfying oof!
We were evenly matched—too evenly matched. We attacked in a flurry, with fists flying and roundhouse kicks and bruising connections. But then we retreated, circling each other warily.
“There can be only one Max,” Jeb said softly.
“Yeah, the real one,” I heard Ari say.
The scientist with a deep voice folded his arms across his chest. “Let’s see if what you say about her is true, Batchelder.”
I yelled and lunged for Max again, knocking her down. She held me by my hair and head-butted me so hard I saw stars, but I didn’t let go. I whaled into her side with my fist, once, twice, three times. The third time, I swore I heard a rib crack. It felt sooo good.
“Which one survives is up to you,” Jeb said. “May the strongest Max win.”
138
Shut up, jerk!” Maximum Ride barked at him, just as I was about to say the exact same thing. She and I jumped up, looked at each other. It was like looking in a mirror. So weird.
But she had to go. There was one Max too many. With another roar I sprang forward, snapping out a side kick that sent her to the ground again. I dropped down onto her, sitting on her stomach, and punched her right in the nose. She winced, her head whipped to the side, and then blood spurted out her nose.
“You think you’re so great,” I hissed. She struggled underneath me, but I clamped her arms at her sides with my knees and reached for her throat.
This was going to end only one way: with me on top. I was built to survive. This was my destiny—to be able to outdo anything weaker that came before me. That was all I cared about. Max was weak because she cared about everything else—her stupid flock, their stupid parents, the way Jeb had betrayed her, everything other than what she should care about.
I chuckled
aloud, thinking how pathetic she was. I was ready to squash her.
But suddenly she arched her back, snarling, throwing me off hard. On her feet again, she kicked my chin, cracking my head back with so much force I almost blacked out. Then she was straddling me, like I had done to her a moment ago. She grabbed my throat with both hands and started squeezing. With blood running from her nose, she looked murderous, unstoppable. One of her eyes was swollen shut, but she still had a choke hold on me. I grabbed her arms, trying to pull them away, but couldn’t budge her.
“Max?” I heard Gasman say again. We both ignored him. “Kind of important . . .”
Oh, my God, I thought, struggling, vaguely surprised. She’s going to win. It had never, ever occurred to me that she could. In every scenario I’d ever run through, every training exercise, I had always won. But amazingly, I was getting tunnel vision, and my world was going dark. I tried to buck her off with all my strength, but she was stronger than I was.
“There can be only one Max,” I dimly heard Jeb say. It came from a distance, floating over my head.
This . . . is . . . it, I thought hazily. This . . . is . . . the . . . end.
Suddenly the pressure around my neck released.
With a huge, sucking rush, air poured into my lungs. Light filled my eyes, and I was gasping, wheezing, gulping in air.
The old Max got off me. I coughed, my hand to my throat. I was struggling just to sit up.
“I’m stronger,” she yelled to the scientists. “Stronger than you. Because I’m not going to kill this girl for you. I won’t sink to your pathetic level.”
139
Max,” said Jeb, sounding surprised. “There can’t be two Maxes.”
Maximum Ride 02 Page 23
