116
“Look who’s come to the seashore.”
The low voice, smooth and full of menace, woke me from sleep that night. My body tightened like a longbow and I tried to jump up, only to be held down by a big booted foot on my throat.
Ari. Always Ari.
In the next second, Fang and Iggy woke, and I snapped out my free hand to wake Nudge.
Adrenaline dumped into my veins, knotting my muscles. Angel woke and seemed to take off straight into the air with no running start. She clutched Celeste tightly, hovering about twenty feet above us. I saw her look around, saw her face take on an expression that had disaster written all over it.
I looked around too.
And gasped despite myself.
We were surrounded by Erasers, more Erasers than I’d ever seen before. Literally hundreds and hundreds of them. They’d been growing these things in quantities I could hardly imagine.
Ari leaned down and whispered, “You’re so pretty when you’re sleeping-and your mouth is shut. But what a shame to cut your hair.”
“When I want your opinion, I’ll ask for it,” I spat, struggling against his boot.
He laughed, then reached down and stroked my face with one claw. “I like ‘em feisty.”
“Get off her!” Fang launched himself at Ari, taking him by surprise. Ari outweighed Fang by a hundred pounds, easy, but Fang was coldly furious and out for blood. He was scary when he was like that.
Iggy and I leaped up to help and were instantly grabbed by Erasers.
“Nudge and Gazzy-U and A,” I yelled. “Now!”
Obeying without question, the two of them leaped into the air and flapped hard, rising to hover next to Angel. Erasers snapped at their legs, but they’d been quick and were out of reach. I was so proud, especially when Nudge snarled down meanly.
I struggled, but three Erasers held me in a tight, foul embrace. “Fang!” I screamed, but he was beyond hearing, locked in battle with Ari, who raked his claws across Fang’s face, leaving parallel lines of red.
The six of us are superhumanly strong, but even we don’t have the sheer muscle mass of a full-grown Eraser. Fang was badly outmatched but managed to chop Ari’s collarbone.
Ari yelped and bared his teeth, then pulled back and swung hard, catching Fang upside of his head. I saw his head snap sideways and his eyes close, then he dropped like a dead weight onto the sand.
Ari seized Fang’s head and brought it down hard on a rock. And then he did it again.
“Leave him alone! Stop it! Please stop it!” I screamed, a mist of fury swimming before my eyes. I struggled against the Erasers holding me and managed to stomp on one’s instep. He yelped a curse and corkscrewed my arm until tears rolled down my cheeks.
Fang’s eyes opened weakly. Seeing Ari over him, he grabbed sand and threw it into Ari’s face. Fang scrambled to his feet and launched a roundhouse kick at Ari that caught him square in the chest. Ari staggered back, wheezing, then recoiled fast and cracked Fang with an elbow. Blood sprayed from Fang’s mouth, and again he went down.
I was crying by now but couldn’t speak: An Eraser’s rough, hairy paw was clapped over my mouth.
Then Ari bent over Fang’s body, his muzzle open, canines sharp and ready to tear Fang’s throat. “Had enough,” he growled viciously, “of life?”
Oh, God, oh, God, not Fang, not Fang, not Fang-
“Ari!”
My eyes went wide. I knew that voice too well.
Jeb. My adopted father. Now my worst enemy.
117
I stared with the fiercest, most righteous anger and hatred as Jeb Batchelder easily moved through the crowd of Erasers, parting them as if he were Moses and they were the Red Sea. It was still bizarre to see him-I’d been so used to mourning, not despising, him.
Ari paused, his rank and deadly mouth open over Fang’s neck. Fang was unconscious but still breathing.
“Ari!” Jeb said again. “You have your orders.”
Jeb walked toward me, keeping one eye on Ari. After endless seconds, Ari slowly, slowly drew back from Fang, leaving his body crumpled unnaturally on the sand.
Jeb stopped in front of me.
He’d saved my life more than once. He’d saved all our lives. Taught me to read, how to make scrambled eggs, how to hot-wire cars. Once I’d depended on him as if he were the very breath in my lungs: He was my one constant, my one certainty.
“Do you get it now, Max?” he asked softly. “Do you see the incredible beauty of the game? No child, no adult, no one has ever experienced anything like what you’re feeling. Do you see why all this is necessary?”
The Eraser holding me peeled his fingers away from my mouth so I could speak. Instantly, I spit hard, clearing my mouth and throat of tears. I hit Jeb’s shoe.
“No,” I said, keeping my voice steady, though everything in me was shrieking, desperate to run to Fang. “I don’t get it. I’ll never get it. I want to get out of it.”
His heartbreakingly familiar face looked strained, as if he was losing patience with me. Tough. “I told you, you’re going to save the world,” he said. “That’s the purpose of your existence. Do you think an ordinary, untrained fourteen-year-old could do that? No. You’ve got to be the best, the strongest, the smartest. You’ve got to be the ultimate. Maximum.”
I yawned and rolled my eyes, knowing he’d hate that, and Jeb’s jaw tightened in anger. “Do not fail,” he said, a hard note in his voice. “You did okay in New York, but you made serious, rather stupid mistakes. Mistakes cost you. Make better decisions.”
“You’re not my dad anymore, Jeb,” I said, putting as much annoying snideness into my tone as possible. “You’re not responsible for me. I do what I like. I named myself-Maximum Ride.”
“I’ll always be responsible for you,” he snapped. “If you think you’re actually running your own life, then maybe you’re not as bright as I thought you were.”
“Make up your mind,” I snapped back. “Either I’m the greatest or I’m not. Which is it?”
He motioned with his hand, and the Erasers let me and Iggy go. Ari turned and smirked at me, then blew me a kiss.
I spit at him. “Daddy always loved me best!” I hissed, and his face darkened.
He took a fast step toward me, paws coiled into fists, but was pushed along by a rough, hairy wave of the other Erasers. They swept him up and shuffled off around the large boulder at the end of our beach. Jeb was with them.
No, he was one of them.
118
Stumbling badly, my shoulder feeling like it was on fire, I made my way down the beach. Before I moved Fang, I felt his neck to see if it was broken. Then I carefully turned him over. Blood trickled from his mouth.
“Fang, you have to wake up,” I whispered.
The others ran over. “He looks really bad,” Gazzy said. “He should see a doctor.”
Nothing seemed broken-maybe his nose-but he was still out cold. I lifted his head into my lap and used my sweatshirt to dab at the bloody stripes on his face.
“We could carry him, you and me,” said Iggy, his long, pale hands floating over Fang, cataloging bruises, lumps, blood.
“Where to?” I asked, hearing my bitterness. “It’s not like we can check him into a hospital.”
“No hospi’l,” Fang mumbled, his eyes still shut.
Relief flooded through me.
“Fang!” I said. “How bad?”
“Pre’y bad,” he said fuzzily, then, groaning, he tried to shift to one side.
“Don’t move!” I told him, but he turned his head and spit blood out onto the sand. He raised his hand and spit something into it, then opened his eyes blearily.
“Tooth,” he said in disgust. “Feel like crap,” Fang added, touching the knots on the back of his head.