Nevermore: The Final Maximum Ride Adventure

these maniacs as much as you do. We’re just… we’re nervous after Paris. We’re still not used to being targets and all.”

“Yeah, it must be really tough, being away from the cushy comforts of your private-school McMansions,” Maya said icily, and Kate’s face fell.

“Don’t even—” Star started.

“You guys, shut up!” Ratchet yelled. He took in a deep, slow breath, his hypersensitive ears listening intently. “Something’s coming this way.”

Immediately Fang went on alert, jumping to his feet, putting the argument—as screwed up as it was—behind him for now. “Stow the gear in the van,” he directed. “Maya and I will scout it out from above.”

He glanced at the sky, cursing. It was maybe seven AM. They should have been on the road an hour ago.

“You guys, we’re in the middle of the desert,” Kate said. “Maybe we shouldn’t freak out yet. There are tons of wild animals around here—coyotes and big lizards and turkey buzzards—and that might be what Ratchet’s hearing. I really think we should keep talking this out, try to find some middle ground, and—”

Ratchet shook his head. “Yo. I can tell the difference between a fox or a lizard and… this thing. This mofo is big—bigger than a wolf, or even a bear. And I smell blood. Lots of it.”

6

“I SMELL BLOOOOD,” Star intoned in a deep voice an hour later. “Lots of it.”

Ratchet scowled. “Say it again, girl, and see what happens to you. Go on—say it one more time. I’m telling you, something was out there.”

“At least it wasn’t worse,” Kate said, her easy smile returning.

Fang nodded, glancing quickly in the rearview mirror. All he and Maya had found was a bunch of buzzards having a prairie-dog party.

“Yeah,” said Star solemnly, “it could’ve been a small lizard, bent on destroying us all. Or a mutant desert bat, prone to feasting on the hearts of ‘enhanced humans’. Right, Ratch?”

Holden and Kate couldn’t help giggling, and Fang was reminded of the flock. How many times had they joked with one another just like this, teasing and arguing? And here he was with a whole new gang. But the teasing felt harsher, the arguments more real. No flock in sight.

No flock, but there was Maya, next to him. She sighed unconsciously, like she felt as separate from the group as he did. It made sense. As the only two flyers, they could’ve made it to San Francisco in about forty-five minutes, but instead they had six hours of driving ahead of them.

Maya leaned her head on his shoulder. The bench seat in the front of their “borrowed” van meant she could sit really close, and she was.

Really close.

He breathed her in, ignoring the squabbling in the backseat, and an understanding seemed to pass between them. It was more than just having wings that separated them from the gang. They felt weird with the others because they felt good alone. Together.

Like he had with Max.

Just as Fang’s thoughts started to spiral, Maya straightened up and frowned, leaning forward. “Do you see that? Like a dust cloud, way ahead, on the road?”

Fang squinted and saw what she was talking about: a growing haze, blocking the road ahead of them. “Ratchet?”

Ratchet looked smug. “I thought you guys didn’t trust my senses.”

Fang sighed. After the theatrics with Star and Kate, his gang was exhausting him. “Please?”

Ratchet sighed and lowered his sunglasses, peering through the windshield. When he spoke his voice was gruff, all business. “We got company. Looks like a convoy of vehicles, hogging both lanes and about to pay us a visit.”

In seconds Fang had slammed on the brakes and made a tight, fast U-turn that sent the van up on two wheels. He stomped on the gas and shot them down the road in the direction they’d just come from.

“Sorry, but I’m not into sticking around for the welcoming committee,” Fang said tersely, scanning the road ahead for the turnoff he’d seen a while back.

There was a slim chance that he was overreacting, that these were trucks taking vegetables somewhere or something. Fang estimated the chance of that to be approximately point-zero-one percent.

He accelerated more. He could feel the engine straining—and the van definitely wasn’t up to off-roading. Fang watched the dust cloud advancing in the rearview mirror and felt Maya’s tension next to him, her wings brushing his. It was tempting to break loose and fly… but no. They couldn’t leave the others.

Fang breathed a sigh of relief as he saw the thin outline of the gravel road ahead. After the turnoff, they could ditch the van, flee to forest cover, and take whoever it was hand to hand. If necessary.

“Almost there,” Fang muttered under his breath.

Half a mile… a few more seconds…

Wham!

7

THE IMPACT ROCKED the van sideways, and there was a deafening screech as it skidded across the asphalt. The doors on the left side were crunched shut. Windows shattered, Kate shrieked, and Ratchet started swearing— they’d been T-boned by a truck shooting out from the dirt road that Fang had planned to turn down.

Fang looked to his right and felt a tightening in his chest as he saw the gash, the slack jaw, the unfocused eyes. “Maya?” Fang said sharply, shaking her arm.

“I’m fine.” Maya blinked, touching the blood at her temple. She smiled. “Just a bump.”

Fang gave a brief nod and started climbing out through the broken windshield, reaching behind him for Maya’s hand. Why was he worried? Maya could take care of herself.

“Out and scatter!” he ordered, and the gang started to scramble out the right side of the van. Fang leaped to the roof and did a 360. Two monster trucks blocked the dirt road, and four others had screamed into place in front of the van. The other convoy was maybe a quarter of a mile away and speeding toward them.

They were boxed in.

He surveyed the gang. Ratchet was holding a tire iron, and Holden had already assumed a battle stance. Star’s speed and Kate’s strength made them a fierce pair. And Maya… he had complete confidence in Maya. He’d seen her fight before, and knew what she was capable of.

In seconds, the other convoy was screeching to a halt behind the van.

Here we go, Fang thought, and felt his muscles tighten in readiness for whatever craziness was about to explode in the next thirty seconds.

For several moments, it was dead silent.

“What is this?” Fang heard Ratchet mutter. “I want to bust some heads.”

Then, slowly, a door on one of the trucks opened. Fang tensed, ready to dodge bullets. But what emerged from the truck was a much more effective weapon, one that left Fang speechless, with his eyes bugging out of his head.

“Hello, Fang,” said Ari.

Ari, Max’s usually evil half brother, who was enhanced, like the rest of the Erasers, with wolf DNA. Ari, who Fang had seen die, twice. He’d helped bury him! But… here Ari was. With a missile launcher balanced on one hulking shoulder. Pointed at Fang.

“Ari,” Fang managed to say.

“I heard you were going to be the first to die,” Ari said, his amused tone in sharp contrast to the crazy, feral gleam in his eyes. Fang shifted, remembering Angel’s creepy doomsday prediction. “I wanted to make sure I got to do the honors.” Ari pointed the heavy launcher on his huge, unnaturally muscled body at Fang. He smiled, baring long yellow teeth. “How about it, sport? You ready to die?” He tilted his head and looked through the gunsight.

For maybe the first time in his life, Fang felt… absolutely frozen.