Fang

three-year-old with baby wings and learning how to fly. But this guy was… almost… a man. A little pathetic.

“Well, whatever. I can take a minute,” I heard myself say.

“Yeah?” Dylan raised an eyebrow and looked at me. He seemed to be trying not to look too eager.

“Yeah, sure, why not?” I said, making a mental note to get a good look at his wings. For all I knew, they were remote-controlled and duct-taped to his back.

“Have at ’im,” Fang said easily, and he was on the front porch with an almost silent flutter of his wide deep-black wings. God, Fang’s wings were gorgeous. They looked like they belonged on the Angel of Death.

“Good – thanks, Max,” said Jeb, climbing the ladder Fang had just lowered, and I indulged in a moment’s fantasy about someone slamming the trapdoor on his head.

Then it was just me and Dylan alone out here in the canyon, in the moonlight, and I felt like I was going to jump out of my skin.

“Okay,” I said, but my voice came out weird. I gave a little cough. “Let’s do this thing.”

35

FOR A COUPLE OF SECONDS Dylan and I stood there awkwardly. The night seemed darker and quieter than it had a moment ago. I could smell Dylan’s clean scent, like soap and mountain air.

“I thought flying would come naturally to me,” he said. He carefully opened his wings and frowned, as if testing their strength.

“Well, it’s like walking, or riding a bike,” I explained. “It’s sort of natural, but you also have to practice.”

I remembered Ari, Jeb’s son. He’d been a little sevenyear-old. Then someone had spliced his DNA with Eraser genes and grafted wings onto him, retrofitting them. The result had been a huge disaster, a Frankenstein.

It looked like they had finally gotten everything right with Dylan. No one could accuse him of being a Frankenstein. More like Frankenhunk.

I realized what I was thinking and immediately shooed it out of my head. “So, I, uh…,” I started babbling. “I guess you flew here… from Africa?” I asked. “Like, in a plane?”

“Yeah. What about you guys?”

“We flew flew here. Took about five days. We were pretty whipped afterward. That Atlantic Ocean is a beast.”

“That’s so amazing.” He gazed at me in open admiration. “I can’t believe how strong you are.”

The dream I’d had about Dylan popped into my head in full Technicolor. “Was it hard for you to get used to being big?” I asked, wanting to change the subject. Chitchat is obviously not my best skill. “I mean, I guess you grew pretty quickly.”

He shook his head. “I’ve always been this size. I don’t remember anything else. They… made me this way.” He hesitated for a moment. “I don’t remember being a little kid. I’ve only been alive for eight months, but it’s been long enough to realize that I’m a… freak.” He gave a sad little chuckle.

“Well, yeah,” I said, not pulling any punches. “So are we. But you’ve got to remember that you didn’t make yourself this way. We didn’t ask for this to be done to us. Other people did. They knew better, knew they were treating us like lab rats, and they did it anyway. They’re the monsters, not us.”

“Are you angry about it still?” He looked curious. It was an odd feeling to have anyone – especially a guy – ask me about my emotions.

“Well, I don’t know. Mostly I just suck up what life throws my way, stomp on it, and then keep going. I don’t dwell much on what I am or how I got this way. It just is. I just am. I’m Max, and whatever form I take, it’s good enough for me.”

He smiled. Were those whitening-strip-bright teeth I saw flash between his lips? “It’s good enough for me too.”

“I didn’t ask your opinion on it,” I snapped. Ouch. Sometimes I even surprise myself. “Sorry,” I muttered.

“Don’t be sorry. You’re right,” Dylan said smoothly. “You didn’t ask me. And it doesn’t really matter what I think, anyway. I’m definitely a beginner-level freak.”

“Well, we’ve had years – our whole lives – to get used to it and figure things out. You’ve just been thrown into the middle of it. It’s actually kind of amazing that you’re not totally freaking out.”

You can help each other, Max, said the unwelcome Voice. You’re perfect complements to each other.

“Shut up!” I hissed under my breath, and Dylan looked startled.

“I didn’t say anything.”

Gritting my teeth, I nodded. “No, I know. It’s just -” I decided to take a risk and stared him down. “I hear voices, okay? If you’re gonna be here, get used to it. Or else keep your distance.”

If I’d hoped to scare Dylan away from me, he didn’t seem disturbed much. “Sure, Max. Whatever.”

“Okay, so, flying,” I started, taking a deep breath and focusing on the thing I loved most in the world. “Flying is… great. It feels great when you’re doing it. It’s fun. Pure freedom. There’s nothing better.”

Dylan smiled, a slow, easy smile that seemed to light up his whole face.

“So the first thing we’re going to do,” I told him, “is push you off the roof.”

36

“HOW DID IT GO?” Jeb asked, when we got inside half an hour later.

“Great!” Dylan reported enthusiastically. “I did it! Max is a great teacher.” Before I had time to react, he put his arm around my shoulder and squeezed.

“He’s a natural,” I said, looking at Jeb and wiggling free of Dylan’s arm. “A quick study. Won’t need much more help from me.” I crossed the room and cut a piece of cake, feeling myself flush.

“The flock has been filling me in,” Jeb said. “And I see you all turned a year older today.”

“Yep.” I took a big bite of cake and perched on the sofa arm to eat it. Clearly Jeb had taken in the remains of the birthday party – the cake, the balloons, the decorations. Years ago, he’d organized the parties and bought the presents and got the ice cream. Well, he’d given up his right to do that. We didn’t need him anymore – not for anything. I hoped it broke his heart. “So, Jeb, why are you here?”

“I miss you guys,” Jeb lied. I knew him too well. “I wanted to get you caught up on CSM stuff. And I wanted Dylan to see you again, and vice versa. Being with the flock is exactly what Dylan needs. Already, in half an hour, you’ve taught him more about who he is, what he is, than he’s learned in eight months.”

“So how did you get a hold of him?” I asked. “I thought he belonged to Dr. Hunca-Munca. You just asked the doc to borrow him for a road trip?”

“I’m standing right here,” Dylan said, sounding irritated. “But that’s okay. Talk about me like I’m not.” He crossed his arms over his chest as Jeb looked at him in surprise.

“That’s the tricky part, Jeb,” I said snidely. “You guys are always stunned when your little creations, your science projects, turn out to have minds of their own. To want to do stuff for themselves instead of falling into line with whatever you have planned for them.” I pointed to Dylan. “He’s an actual person. He’s alive. He’s not just a bunch of genes that happen to function! When are you gonna learn? When are you going to quit playing God?”

“I didn’t create Dylan!” Jeb protested.

“But you brought him here so our skills could rub off on him, right? What about our skills of disobedience? Independence? Our inability to live in cages?” My voice had been rising, and now I realized that everyone else had gone silent. “What if all that rubs off on him?”

Jeb rose to his feet. “I got you out of those cages!” he snapped.

“You’re also the one who put us in those cages in the first place!” I was fuming. “You always seem to forget that part!”

“And you always forget that I saved your lives!” Jeb yelled. I’d never seen him so angry – none of us had. “Not just once, but over and over! If it weren’t for me, you’d be dead by now! If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t be alive in the first place!”

The others were staring in shock. Looked like I’d blown our little party to all get-out.

“Which one of us regrets that more, I wonder?” I said, and then I ran to the front door and jumped.

37

I SNAPPED OUT my wings before I hit the ground, and soared up into the rapidly cooling night air. My head was spinning, and it wasn’t only because of the four pieces of cake I’d had. Though right now I was regretting them.

I needed answers. I needed someone to say, “This is how it is, without a doubt.” Only problem was, who would I trust to tell me that?

You can trust me, Max.

I groaned and rolled my eyes. Perfect. The Voice chiming in now was the perfect thing to push me right over the edge.

Max, if you get pushed over the edge… you’ll just fly, right?

I hated it when the Voice said things like that, turned my own words around on me.

Yeah, sure. If one can snarl a thought, and I believe one can, I snarled that one. But listen, Voice, now that I have your attention – got a question for you: Why is Jeb really here? Why did he bring Dylan?

The Voice was silent. My mind filled the silence with:

Could Jeb possibly be here to carry out Angel’s prediction? To kill Fang?

He’d brought us into this world. I knew he was capable of taking us out of it.

And – had he brought Dylan to replace Fang?

If Dylan was here so Fang could be eliminated, then World War III was about to break out.

I clutched the snake necklace Angel had made for me. Fang wore the matching one around his neck. He was my perfect other half.

I know you love Fang, the Voice said now, not answering my questions. Fang’s an amazing guy. But you two have too much history together. Dylan has… potential. Great potential.

No way! I almost shouted out loud. I swear I’m gonna kick their butts out of here!