Maximum Ride: The Angel Experiment

52

I don't think I've mentioned this, but all of us in the flock have an inborn sense of direction. I don't know how it works. We just always know which way were going. So we rocketed west-northwest for a good two hours. Many of the hawks whose cliff Fang and Nudge had shared stayed with us, flying in loose formation. Our new best pals.

"We learned some stuff from the hawks," Fang said, seeing me watch them. "Some banking moves, how they communicate, stuff like that."

"They're really cool." Nudge added, flying closer to me. "They, like, use the tips of their feathers to help aim them, and we tried it, and it was amazing. A little thing like that makes such a difference. Like, a practically didn't even know I could move those feathers."

"Can you teach us what you learned?" I asked.

"Yeah, sure." said Fang.

We ate our last granola bars in midair. We flew over desert, mountains, rivers, scrubby plains. I only looked down when I had to, and forced myself not to think about Ella and her mom, who I missed like a real mom.

I watched the hawks, imitating their moves, banking, tailing, soaring, diving - all the things they were doing, minus the dead rodents. I was exhilarated to be included among those fierce, awesome birds. When they split away from us at the edge of their territory, I was sad to see them go.

Just as I was starting to feel shaky from lack of sugar, our markers came into view. Signaling to the others, I headed downward, aiming for a small wood on the backside of a foothill.

It was a pretty unpopulated area, and I couldn't see much activity, except for a strip mall about a mile away.

We landed and looked around. I rubbed my aching shoulder. "Okay, we need food. And a street map wouldn't be the worst idea in the world."

"The School isn't going to show up on any map," said Fang.

"I know. But we know pretty much where it is - there'll be a blank space on the map, but it would still help us to fin roads to get there," I said.

Fifteen minutes of hiking brought us to the back of the strip mall. It was a descent-sized place, with a dollar store, gas station, a freestanding bank machine, dry cleaner and beauty salon. No food except the gas station store.

"Need to get your hair done?" Fang asked, and I elbowed him. Like I'd ever had my hair done in my life. Mostly I whacked it shorter with the kitchen scissors when it got too annoying.

"Well, what now?" the Gasman asked. "Should we keep going?"

"Let me think," I muttered, looking the mall up and down. Hitchhiking was out of the question - we'd end up murdered in a ditch or something. It was at least ten miles to the School. We could fly it, but I didn't want to approach from the air. So we'd have to walk, but it would take a while, and we were already hungry.

"Okay," I said finally. "Looks like we'll have to -"

I was interrupted by a squeal of a car pulling in. Without speaking, we drew back into a clump of bushes by the side of the building. A fancy gray car with a silver hood ornament roared up by the little bank machine.

The window opened, and loud music spilled out. A slick-looking guy leaned toward the machine, a cell phone up to his ear.

"Shut up, you idiot!" he was saying. "If you hadn't lost your card, I wouldn't need cash."

The man stuck his arm out and pushed his card into the machine. Quickly, he punched in his code, then waited. "That's what I get for trusting you with anything!" he snapped into the phone. "You can't handle getting dressed in the morning!"

"Jerk," Nudge whispered next to me. I nodded.

Like magic, the machine spit some green bills through a slit, and the man snatched them and started counting. The next moment, a big black pickup truck screeched into the parking lot, way too close to the fancy car. Its rear tires spun and spit rock, and we could hear little pinging noises as they hit the cushmobile.

We shrank back farther into the woods. Goosebumps rose on my arms, and my breath caught in my throat, Erasers? The chip I had. Should I run now, getting the Erasers to follow me and leave the flock alone?

"He's going to go ballistic," Fang predicted quietly.

Veins practically popping out of his neck, the jerk leaned out his window and yelled a bunch of swear words, including a new one I tucked away in my brain for future use, if necessary.

The darkened window of the pickup rolled down, and I inhaled silently.

"What'd you say, dipstick?" Ari asked with a creepy smile.