122
Break free! My brain went from sleep to extreme, annihilating panic in an instant. I arched my back with all my strength, bucking myself off the floor. At the same time I tried yanking my hands and feet apart as hard as I could, only to find they wouldn't budge. Think, Max, think! You can get out of this! They can't get you this easily!
My scream was muffled by the duct tape. I heaved myself around, trying to knock into someone or break something to make some noise. I couldn't believe the others were sleeping through this-usually the slightest sound woke any of us. Maybe there's something wrong with them.
Two big, dark figures leaned over me, trying to gather me up, but I struggled against them with all my might. I managed to knee one in the stomach, but it didn't do much. Then the other one simply sat on me, knocking every bit of breath out of my body. Wild-eyed, I sucked in air through my nose, already feeling like I was suffocating.
It had been a long time since I'd been so completely helpless, and it made me crazy. All thought fled my brain-I went into frenzied animal instinct, struggling for my life, willing to kill my captors, to do anything to stay alive.
I was hyperventilating, screaming silently, gouging ridges in my ankles and wrists where they were bound with plastic ties. And still I was helpless.
Still unable to stop the black hood from coming over my head, unable to not breathe the sickly sweet smell, unable to stop myself from letting go, releasing into a deep, cold blackness where there was no pain, no fear, only nothingness.
Oh yeah, and one other bad thing. Really bad, I think. I saw that other Max in the room when they kidnapped me.
And I think she stayed there with the flock.
123
After the Erasers had taken the inferior Max away from the motel, I quickly lay down in her spot and pulled the blanket over me. I closed my eyes, positive I wouldn't sleep a wink.
I was so hyped up-it was all finally happening. No way would I sleep... Out with the old Max, in with the new and improved Max. All according to plan.
"Wagh!" I woke up flailing, dreaming that I was being sponged by aliens.
My hand hit something furry and warm, and I felt the furriness jump away. Then I remembered: They had a dog. It must have been licking me. So gross.
I blinked slowly and looked around. The skeezy motel room looked even worse in the daylight than it had in the middle of the night.
"Max?" I looked up to see the little blond boy-Gasman, what a name-leaning over me.
"Uh, what?" I said.
"I'm hungry."
Showtime. Now I would see how well I could play Maximum Ride. "Right," I said, getting up. I was sore and stiff from sleeping on the floor. Now that I could see everyone close up, it was hard for me not to stare. They really were different from Erasers, from Ari. I didn't know how they could stand themselves.
"So, breakfast," I said, trying to remember the drill. "Does the, uh, dog need to go out?"
"We already went out," said the littlest kid. Angel. She cocked her head to one side, looking at me, and I gave her a big smile. Little weirdo. I had no idea why Max stayed with these losers. She would do so much better on her own. Every one of them was a ball and chain, holding her down. She should have dumped them a long time ago. But that was one of her weaknesses: She needed an audience, a pep squad. Someone to hold her hand and tell her how fabulous she was.
Anyway. There was a tiny kitchenette in one corner of the room. I went over and put a frying pan on one of the hot plates. "Okay, how about some eggs?" I said, looking inside the minifridge.
"You're going to cook?"
I turned around to see Fang, the older, dark-haired boy, looking at me.
"Aren't you hungry?"
"Not that hungry," Gasman muttered.
I didn't get it. The other older boy, the fair one, stood up.
"I'll do it. Gaz, you pour juice. Nudge, get out the paper plates."
"But you're blind," I said. He couldn't cook. Or was this some kind of joke?
"You're kidding! I am?" the guy-Iggy-said sarcastically. He brushed past me and turned on the hot plate. "Who wants scrambled?"
"Me," said Nudge, raising her hand. She dug out some paper plates and put them on the dinky Formica table.
Huh. Maybe because I was the leader, I didn't do stuff like cook. Well, I had to look busy, in charge.
"Nudge? Come over here and I'll fix your hair." I rummaged in a backpack for a brush. "We could do, like, ponytails or something, get it out of your eyes."
Nudge-another dumb name-looked at me. "You want to fix my hair?"
"Yeah." God, what did Max do all day? She didn't cook, she didn't fix people's hair. Did she just sit on her butt barking orders all the time? "Oh, and hey-you-off the bed." I snapped my fingers at the dog, who just looked at me.
"Why can't he sit on the bed?" Angel asked.
"Because I said so," I said, starting to brush Nudge's hair.
There was silence, and I looked up to see the other four mutant kids looking at me. Well, not the blind one, though his face was turned toward me, which was creepy.
"What?" I asked.
124
The last thing I remembered was being kidnapped from the motel room. No, the very last thing I remembered was seeing that other Max in the room. What happened? Had she replaced me? Why?
At the moment, I didn't know if I was awake or asleep, alive or dead. I blinked again and again, but there was complete and utter blackness: no shadows, no blurry forms, no pinprick of light. All of us except Iggy can see extremely well in the dark, so not being able to see anything at all made my blood run cold.
Was I blind now, like Iggy? Had they experimented on my eyes?
Where was I? I remembered being bound and gagged. I remembered passing out. Now I was here, but where "here" was I had no clue.
Where was the flock? None of them had woken up when I'd been taken. Had they been drugged? Something worse? Were they okay? I tried to sit up, but it was as if I was suspended somehow-I couldn't put my feet down, couldn't push off anything. But I felt wetness. I could touch my face. My hair was wet. I reached out with my hands and felt nothing. There was water or something all around me, but it wasn't like ordinary water-I couldn't sink.
I swallowed and blinked again, feeling myself start to panic. Where was my flock? Where was I? What was going on? Was I dead? If I was dead, I was going to be incredibly pissed because there was no way I could deal with this limitless nothingness for an hour, much less eternity. No one had said death would be so intensely boring.
My heart was beating fast, my breaths were quick and shallow, my skin was tingling because blood was rushing to my muscles and main organs: fight or flight. Which reminded me. I stretched out my wings and couldn't feel a thing. Wildly I reached back with one hand. My heavy wing muscles, the thick ridges where they joined my shoulders, were there. I still had wings. I just couldn't feel them.
Was I anesthetized? Was I having an operation? I tried as hard as I could to move, thrashing around in the blackness, but again felt nothing.
Very bad news.
Where the heck was I?
Try to calm down. Calm down. Get it together. If you're dead, you're dead, and there's nothing you can do about it. If you're not dead, you need to get it together so you can escape, rescue the others, open a can of whup-ass on whoever put you here...
I was completely alone. I couldn't remember the last time I'd been completely alone. If I were in a hammock on a beach, sipping a drink with a little umbrella in it, and I knew the flock was safe and okay and everything was fine, I would be ecstatic. Being alone, off-duty, able to relax-it would be a dream come true.
Instead I was alone with darkness, with fear, with uncertainty. So where was I?
You might not want to know.
The Voice. I wasn't completely alone after all. The Voice was still with me.