Nevermore: The Final Maximum Ride Adventure

14

“ARI, WHAT ARE you talking about?” Fang said. “We’re on the same side, remember? You saved Max.”

“Times change.” Ari smiled again and looked down the sight of his missile launcher, as if gauging how far away Fang was. Fang shifted his weight, primed to leap. “Having the same goal doesn’t mean we’re on the same side.”

“What—” Fang began, but he was cut off by a chorus of deep growls. Four more thugs climbed out of the truck to stand behind Ari, looking like a row of college linebackers. Their resemblance to Ari was freakish, surreal: They had the same glint in their eyes, the same unnatural, stretched-out features, the same wolfish undertones. Clones? Or just well-made copies? Fang didn’t want to stick around long enough to find out.

“Fang, who are they?” Star hissed. She was standing beside Kate, her face even tenser than usual, and Holden was right behind them. Ratchet was glowering at these ugly strangers, smacking the tire iron against his palm. Maya stood silently at Fang’s left wing—Fang remembered that she knew Ari.

“Erasers,” Fang answered quietly. “Human-wolf hybrids. Except they’re supposed to be extinct.” So how was Ari alive?

And more important: Why was he suddenly evil again?

Maya met Fang’s eyes. Fight or flight?

“Enough talking,” Ari said, almost lazily. “Let’s play a game!”

Fight.

15

BEFORE FANG HAD time to think, Ari fired a missile.

Right at him.

Instantly, Fang unfroze, his instincts going from shock to hyperdrive in zero point two seconds. “Duck and cover!” he barely had time to shout as he threw himself sideways off the van. The missile missed Fang by a hair, singeing his shirt as it shot past.

And then—boom! Their van exploded in a mushroom of flames, flying metal, and roiling black smoke. Kate shrieked as a shard of glass swiped across her cheek, leaving a thin line of blood, but the sound was just barely audible above the roar of the fireball.

Fang jumped to his feet, ears ringing. The van was nothing but a few smoldering, smoking chunks scattered in a circle around the blast zone.

Holden scrambled to his feet, dust-covered and wide-eyed, as Kate wiped blood from her cheek. Ratchet was hardly visible through the thick black smoke. “Man! Friggin’ almost busted my ears!”

“Never really liked that van anyway,” called Star, a little shakily. She, unlike the rest, looked perfectly unharmed and clean—the ability to be forty yards away in the blink of an eye sure did come in handy.

Fang’s gang dropped into their battle positions, but they all looked a bit wigged out. Even Fang was tense with an apprehension he wasn’t used to. Ari was a wild card, and even after all the training they’d done, even with their advanced abilities, he didn’t trust any of the gang under pressure like he had the flock. Well, any of them except…

Fang could make out Maya’s shape walking toward him through the dust cloud, her wings outstretched, looking powerful and ethereal in silhouette.

We’ll be okay, Fang thought.

“Aw, I missed,” Ari said in his rusty voice. He was still grinning wickedly, like a tiger cornering its prey. “Enough of the theatrics. Let’s do this thing, Fang. You and me. Let’s make some history here, before your freaky friends get hurt.”

“Works for me,” Fang snarled, but to his surprise, Maya’s hand shot out in front of him. She stepped forward, putting herself between Ari and Fang.

“Hey,” she said to Fang. “Sorry—I got thrown. But listen: If we fight, we fight together. We’re a team. Got it?” Fang nodded, knowing there was no use arguing. She was as stubborn as a mule.

Like someone else he knew.

“Can’t ever just stay out of it, can you, Max?” Ari shook his head. “You’re looking a bit rough, sis. The hair’s a little G.I. Jane, don’t you think?”

“Not Max. Maya,” she said, running her fingers through her short pixie cut.

Ari laughed, his yellow fangs glinting. “Oh, yeah, Max II. That explains it, then—the delayed reflexes, the bravado. The life of a clone, so difficult.” Ari pouted in mock sympathy, and Maya’s eyes narrowed. “We understand your pain, don’t we, boys?” The row of Erasers behind him twitched impatiently, growling and muttering. “I have to say, though, Deux—as clones go, you seem like more of a cheap imitation. Did Fang pick you up in the discount aisle?”

“I said, the name is Maya,” she repeated, jaw clenched.

“Same, same,” Ari said, still smiling. “Fresh meat either way.”

And then, before Fang could even react, all heck broke loose.

Maya crashed into Ari, her eyes furious and vengeful, knocking the missile launcher out of his grasp with one swift kick.

Fang lunged toward them, protesting. Team or no team, Ari was his fight. But in their adrenaline-boosted frenzy, Ari’s goons leaped forward, driving Fang and the rest of the gang into defense mode, away from one another.

Away from Ari and Maya.

16

FANG WAS BACK in his comfort zone—that is, beating the living pus out of freaking Erasers, as usual.

I have to get back there, Fang thought, trying to see through the wall of hulking bodies. Maya was hard core, but Fang had known Ari to be a vicious fighter, and this new version of Ari would likely be even tougher.

After he finished off another Eraser, blood from the guy’s nose spattering his black feathers, Fang pushed off the dusty ground and did an up- and-away. He hovered about fifty feet up, searching the scene.

There, near the demolished van, landing blow after blow, was Maya, holding her own. Ari was no longer smiling. He was clearly sweating with the effort, and his face was furious. And surprised. Fang almost smiled. Maya was fearless and graceful and merciless. She was beautiful to watch.

He scanned the road and spotted Holden backed into a corner with an Eraser. Fang frowned. The kid’s technique was all off, and he looked terrified and in way over his head. The Eraser advanced on him, murder in his feral eyes.

The Eraser tore into Holden’s arm and raised his claw for the final blow, and Fang dove.

The dive was short and lightning quick—the half-dazed Eraser never saw him coming.

Fang stood up, looking around for Holden, and caught a glimpse of Ratchet wailing on some guy with the tire iron… right as Kate paused in her own fight and clipped Ratchet under the chin with her left hand, sending him reeling backward.

“Kate!” Fang yelled sharply. “Watch your aim!”

Ratchet was already standing back up, looking annoyed but ready to take on the next Eraser, when Star, appearing out of nowhere, spun him around just in time for Kate to land another bone-crunching blow to his chest. As Ratchet crumpled to the ground, the Eraser gave Kate a brief nod of acknowledgment.

Fang’s insides turned to ice as things clicked into place: how the convoy had found them, why the two girls had looked so freaked out. They hadn’t been nervous about the fight.

They’d been nervous about their betrayal.

“Traitors,” Fang hissed, advancing on them.

Kate shook her head slowly, apologetic. Guilty. “Sorry, Fang, we wanted to help you. It’s just that…”

“Survival comes first,” Star said simply.