Read Online Fang: A Maximum Ride Novel by James Patterson - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: James Patterson
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nine! I’m nine!” said Gazzy, jumping up and down.
“I’m already seven, but I didn’t have a party,” said Angel.
“Then it’s decided,” I said in my leaderly way. “We’re all turning a year older tomorrow, and we’re going to have a big party.”
My flock cheered and started dancing around the room. I sighed happily.
Sometimes being a good leader is knowing when to … back off.
30
“ME AND MY BIG MOUTH,” I muttered, looking around my room. “Sure, let’s have a party; let’s all get a year older! Excellent idea, Max. But what are you gonna do for presents?”
The six of us had never had much, and we’d been on the run, on the road, for so long that we’d been forcibly pared down to having, like, nothing. But I wanted to do this right —’cause what’s a birthday party without presents?
I had about twenty hours. I was going to have to improvise. Opening my bedroom window, I climbed onto the sill and looked out over the canyon. I was stopped by a sudden thought.
I knew what I really wanted to get Iggy for his birthday.
And I knew where to get it.
But … I just couldn’t pay that price. I couldn’t.
I leaned forward and let myself drop into the air, enjoying the thrill of free-falling before snapping my wings out and rising.
Let’s see the doctor touch the sky!
“Do you think she’d like a bomb of her own?” Gazzy asked Iggy.
Iggy thought. “I kind of don’t think so. She usually just relies on us to do all that.”
“Well, what can I give her?” Gazzy ran his hand through his hair in frustration. “Bombs are the only thing I know how to make!”
“Well, here’s an idea,” said Iggy, and leaned over to whisper into Gazzy’s ear.
A smile slowly widened on Gazzy’s face. He rubbed his hands together. “Brillllliant.”
Nudge sang softly to herself as she worked. It had been totally worth it, lugging everything back from Europe and New York. Look at how handy these things were now! Her backpack had been stuffed, and she’d hidden 80 percent of everything she’d bought, sure that Max would make her dump it as being not worth lugging around, a liability in case of a fight, etc., etc., etc. Now it was all paying off.
Two presents down, three to go. She smiled as she reached for the hot-glue gun.
* * *
Angel straightened, listening. Overhead she heard the cries of a hawk, and she shaded her eyes to watch it wheel through the sky. She loved flying with hawks. They’d all learned a lot from them. You’d think that flying would be as natural as walking, and it was, in a way, but it was also a skill that could be improved.
Other than the hawks, she was alone in the canyon. She had most of what she needed, but a couple more things would be perfect. Her sharp eyes darted here and there, searching in the shadows, checking out every shape, every outline.
Oh, there! Perfect! It was amazing that vultures hadn’t picked the bones clean.
It was just what she needed for the presents she was making.
Fang saw the shine of familiar brown hair way down the street and stepped back quickly into the shadow of a storefront. What was she doing here, more than a hundred miles from home? He smiled: no doubt the same thing he was doing.
So far he was in good shape: He’d gotten a really scary thriller novel on CD for Iggy. It was totally inappropriate for kids, and he knew Ig would love it. For Nudge he’d bought a dozen different fashion magazines, all about hair and clothes and makeup. He could already imagine her squealing with joy, then disappearing for several days to curl up somewhere and pore over every page.
For Gazzy? A history of explosives and how they’d been used in warfare for thousands of years. It was like giving candy to a diabetic, but it was perfect.
Angel had been a bit more difficult. Dolls or games or anything for a little kid just seemed too … young. She’d changed so much in the past year. She didn’t even sleep with Celeste anymore, the ballerina
“I’m already seven, but I didn’t have a party,” said Angel.
“Then it’s decided,” I said in my leaderly way. “We’re all turning a year older tomorrow, and we’re going to have a big party.”
My flock cheered and started dancing around the room. I sighed happily.
Sometimes being a good leader is knowing when to … back off.
30
“ME AND MY BIG MOUTH,” I muttered, looking around my room. “Sure, let’s have a party; let’s all get a year older! Excellent idea, Max. But what are you gonna do for presents?”
The six of us had never had much, and we’d been on the run, on the road, for so long that we’d been forcibly pared down to having, like, nothing. But I wanted to do this right —’cause what’s a birthday party without presents?
I had about twenty hours. I was going to have to improvise. Opening my bedroom window, I climbed onto the sill and looked out over the canyon. I was stopped by a sudden thought.
I knew what I really wanted to get Iggy for his birthday.
And I knew where to get it.
But … I just couldn’t pay that price. I couldn’t.
I leaned forward and let myself drop into the air, enjoying the thrill of free-falling before snapping my wings out and rising.
Let’s see the doctor touch the sky!
“Do you think she’d like a bomb of her own?” Gazzy asked Iggy.
Iggy thought. “I kind of don’t think so. She usually just relies on us to do all that.”
“Well, what can I give her?” Gazzy ran his hand through his hair in frustration. “Bombs are the only thing I know how to make!”
“Well, here’s an idea,” said Iggy, and leaned over to whisper into Gazzy’s ear.
A smile slowly widened on Gazzy’s face. He rubbed his hands together. “Brillllliant.”
Nudge sang softly to herself as she worked. It had been totally worth it, lugging everything back from Europe and New York. Look at how handy these things were now! Her backpack had been stuffed, and she’d hidden 80 percent of everything she’d bought, sure that Max would make her dump it as being not worth lugging around, a liability in case of a fight, etc., etc., etc. Now it was all paying off.
Two presents down, three to go. She smiled as she reached for the hot-glue gun.
* * *
Angel straightened, listening. Overhead she heard the cries of a hawk, and she shaded her eyes to watch it wheel through the sky. She loved flying with hawks. They’d all learned a lot from them. You’d think that flying would be as natural as walking, and it was, in a way, but it was also a skill that could be improved.
Other than the hawks, she was alone in the canyon. She had most of what she needed, but a couple more things would be perfect. Her sharp eyes darted here and there, searching in the shadows, checking out every shape, every outline.
Oh, there! Perfect! It was amazing that vultures hadn’t picked the bones clean.
It was just what she needed for the presents she was making.
Fang saw the shine of familiar brown hair way down the street and stepped back quickly into the shadow of a storefront. What was she doing here, more than a hundred miles from home? He smiled: no doubt the same thing he was doing.
So far he was in good shape: He’d gotten a really scary thriller novel on CD for Iggy. It was totally inappropriate for kids, and he knew Ig would love it. For Nudge he’d bought a dozen different fashion magazines, all about hair and clothes and makeup. He could already imagine her squealing with joy, then disappearing for several days to curl up somewhere and pore over every page.
For Gazzy? A history of explosives and how they’d been used in warfare for thousands of years. It was like giving candy to a diabetic, but it was perfect.
Angel had been a bit more difficult. Dolls or games or anything for a little kid just seemed too … young. She’d changed so much in the past year. She didn’t even sleep with Celeste anymore, the ballerina
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