Read Online Fang: A Maximum Ride Novel by James Patterson - Free Book Online
Authors: James Patterson
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have a video for you, Max!”
She skipped to her bedroom and brought out a backpack that she turned upside down. Out dropped a clogged travel-size hairbrush, an iPod Shuffle, and a CD in a linty transparent sleeve.
“I found it in my bag a few days after we got back from Africa. It has your name on it, but I don’t know how it got there — I swear.”
I didn’t have a good feeling about this, but curiosity got the better of me and I popped the CD into the computer right away. I’d drill Angel later about why she “forgot” to give it to me until now.
When I clicked “play,” my not-good feeling got much, much less good.
My favorite finger-chopping foe smiled at me from the screen.
“Hello, Max,” Dr. Gunther-Hagen began. I braced myself, as Fang stood behind me with his comforting hands on my shoulders.
You ran out a bit quickly today, and I was so excited to be demonstrating my work that I never had the opportunity to give you some of the more important reasons why I know you would find it very rewarding to work with me.
As I’m certain was apparent from what you saw and learned of my limb-regeneration project, I am the world’s leading expert on stem cell research, bar none. Growing an organ in a dish and implanting it is rather an elementary process for me and my team compared to limb regeneration. In fact, I’ve been successfully implanting organs grown from subjects’ own tissue for a number of years. Were you to join forces with me, doors would open up for you and your flock.
He paused dramatically.
“For example, wouldn’t one of your boys love” — he reached to his side and slid a cloudy jar into view of the camera — “a brand-new pair of these?”
He picked up the container so the camera could focus on it.
Floating inside was a human eyeball.
27
THE NEXT MORNING I SET the kids to working on independent studies, and I did more computer research about genetic-recombination theory and stem cell science. I knew they had incredible potential to help humankind. But what became clear to me was that the doctor was experimenting way too fast on humans. All my research had done was upset me.
So now I was emerging from a long shower that was supposed to be therapeutic. I started dragging a comb through my brown hair, getting caught in snarls. Really and truly stuck. I got lost in the ritual of trying to untangle the tangles — contemplating Dr. Hans and Iggy and the possibility of new, healthy eyes for one of the people I loved most in the world — as the moisture on the mirror slowly began to dissipate.
That’s when I spotted an Eraser in the mirror, looking out at me through the fog.
Reactions were faster than thought, and I whirled, one fist raised to strike … an empty wall. A fast look showed that unless the Eraser was paper thin and stuck to my back, there was no one in here but me.
I sat on the edge of the tub, heart pounding.
This had happened once before, ages ago. I’d looked in the mirror and seen an Eraser version of Max looking back at me. But Erasers didn’t even exist anymore — they’d all been “retired.” I peeped up over the edge of the mirror. The steam had cleared, and I saw my human face, my brown eyes.
What was happening to me?
28
SWEARING UNDER MY BREATH, I searched the bathroom, opening cupboards, feeling under the sink. I examined every inch of every wall and ran my fingers around the window frame. If there was a camera hidden in there, I didn’t find it.
A tap on the door made me jump like a deer.
“Yeah?”
“It’s me.”
I unlocked the door and let Fang in. Grinning, he shut the door behind him. Then he saw my face. “What’s wrong?” He glanced around. “You have that ghost look again.”
I let out a breath. “Nothing.”
“Then why is a comb stuck in your hair?”
Crap. I slowly pulled it out, trying to get through the worst of the tangles.
From down the hall, I heard raised voices and a crash, and I tensed.
“The kids are
She skipped to her bedroom and brought out a backpack that she turned upside down. Out dropped a clogged travel-size hairbrush, an iPod Shuffle, and a CD in a linty transparent sleeve.
“I found it in my bag a few days after we got back from Africa. It has your name on it, but I don’t know how it got there — I swear.”
I didn’t have a good feeling about this, but curiosity got the better of me and I popped the CD into the computer right away. I’d drill Angel later about why she “forgot” to give it to me until now.
When I clicked “play,” my not-good feeling got much, much less good.
My favorite finger-chopping foe smiled at me from the screen.
“Hello, Max,” Dr. Gunther-Hagen began. I braced myself, as Fang stood behind me with his comforting hands on my shoulders.
You ran out a bit quickly today, and I was so excited to be demonstrating my work that I never had the opportunity to give you some of the more important reasons why I know you would find it very rewarding to work with me.
As I’m certain was apparent from what you saw and learned of my limb-regeneration project, I am the world’s leading expert on stem cell research, bar none. Growing an organ in a dish and implanting it is rather an elementary process for me and my team compared to limb regeneration. In fact, I’ve been successfully implanting organs grown from subjects’ own tissue for a number of years. Were you to join forces with me, doors would open up for you and your flock.
He paused dramatically.
“For example, wouldn’t one of your boys love” — he reached to his side and slid a cloudy jar into view of the camera — “a brand-new pair of these?”
He picked up the container so the camera could focus on it.
Floating inside was a human eyeball.
27
THE NEXT MORNING I SET the kids to working on independent studies, and I did more computer research about genetic-recombination theory and stem cell science. I knew they had incredible potential to help humankind. But what became clear to me was that the doctor was experimenting way too fast on humans. All my research had done was upset me.
So now I was emerging from a long shower that was supposed to be therapeutic. I started dragging a comb through my brown hair, getting caught in snarls. Really and truly stuck. I got lost in the ritual of trying to untangle the tangles — contemplating Dr. Hans and Iggy and the possibility of new, healthy eyes for one of the people I loved most in the world — as the moisture on the mirror slowly began to dissipate.
That’s when I spotted an Eraser in the mirror, looking out at me through the fog.
Reactions were faster than thought, and I whirled, one fist raised to strike … an empty wall. A fast look showed that unless the Eraser was paper thin and stuck to my back, there was no one in here but me.
I sat on the edge of the tub, heart pounding.
This had happened once before, ages ago. I’d looked in the mirror and seen an Eraser version of Max looking back at me. But Erasers didn’t even exist anymore — they’d all been “retired.” I peeped up over the edge of the mirror. The steam had cleared, and I saw my human face, my brown eyes.
What was happening to me?
28
SWEARING UNDER MY BREATH, I searched the bathroom, opening cupboards, feeling under the sink. I examined every inch of every wall and ran my fingers around the window frame. If there was a camera hidden in there, I didn’t find it.
A tap on the door made me jump like a deer.
“Yeah?”
“It’s me.”
I unlocked the door and let Fang in. Grinning, he shut the door behind him. Then he saw my face. “What’s wrong?” He glanced around. “You have that ghost look again.”
I let out a breath. “Nothing.”
“Then why is a comb stuck in your hair?”
Crap. I slowly pulled it out, trying to get through the worst of the tangles.
From down the hall, I heard raised voices and a crash, and I tensed.
“The kids are
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