Maximum Ride: The Angel Experiment

19

Despite my growing anxiety, it was glorious up here. Not many birds flew this high -- some falcons, hawks, other raptors. Every once in a while some of them would come check us out, probably thinking, Man, those are some dang ugly birds.

This high up, the land below took on a checkerboard effect of Robin Hoodsy greens and browns. Cars looked like busy ants purposefully down their trails low and focused on it. It was cool how some little tiny thing, like a swimming pool, a tractor, whatever, would ratchet into focus. At least those maniacs at the School hadn't had time to "improve" my vision like they improved Iggy's.

"Gosh, I wonder what Iggy and the Gasman are doing now?" Nudge babbled. "Maybe they got the TV working again. I hope they don't feel too bad. It would have -- I mean, I guess it's kind of easier for them to be home. But I bet they're not cleaning up or getting wood or doing any of their chores."

I bet they're cursing my name from dawn to dusk. But at least they're safe. Absently, I chose a flickering shape between low and focused on it, watching a small blob become people, take on features, clothing, individuality. It was a group of kids, maybe my age, maybe older. Who couldn't be more unlike me.

Well, so what? I thought. They were just boring kids, stuck on the ground, doing homework. With bedtimes and a million grown-ups telling them what to do, how to do everything, all the time. Alarm clocks and school and afternoon jobs. Those poor saps. While we were free, free, free. Soaring through the air like rockets. Being cradled by breezes. Doing whatever we wanted, whenever we wanted.

Pretty good, huh? I almost convinced myself.

I glanced down again and refocused. Then I swallowed. What had, at first glance, looked like just a bunch of boring, earthbound kids schlepping to school together now turned, upon closer examination, into what looked like several big kids surrounding a much smaller kid. Okay, maybe I'm paranoid, danger everywhere, but I could swear the bigger kids looked really threatening.

The bigger kids were boys. The smaller kid in the middle was a girl.

Coincidence? I think now.

Don't even get me started about the whole Y chromosome thing. I live with three guys, remember? They're three of the good ones, and they're still obnoxious as all get-out.

I made one of my famous snap decisions, the kind that everyone remembers later for being either the stupidest dumb-butt thing they ever saw or else the miraculous saving of the day. I seemed to hear more about the first kind. That's graduated for you.

I turned to Fang and barely opened my mouth.

"No," he said.

My eyes narrowed. I opened my mouth again.

"No."

"Meet me at the northernmost point of Lake Meed," I said.

"What? What are you talking about?" Nudge asked. "Are we stopping? I'm hungry again."

"Max wants to be Supergirl, defender of the weak," Fang said, sounding irritated.

"Oh." Nudge looked down, frowning at the ground as if it would all become clear soon.

I had started a wide circle that would take me back toward the girl below. I kept thinking, What is that girl was in trouble, like Angel, and no one stopped to help her?

"Oh! Max, remember when you got that little rabbit away from the fox, and we kept it in a carton in the kitchen, and then when it was well you let it go? That was cool." Nudge paused. "Did you see another rabbit?"

"Kind of," I said, my patience starting to wear thin. "It'll take two seconds."

I told Fang, "I'll catch up with you guys before you've gone forty miles. Just keep on course, and if anything weird happens, I'll meet you at Lake Meed."

Fang stared ahead, the wind whipping through his hair. He hated this, I knew.

Well, you can't please everybody all the time.

"Okay," I said briskly. "See you in a few."