Maximum Ride Forever Read Free Page B

Dylan’s size-twelve sneakers.

5
    I WATCHED THE shadow of our V moving across the water hundreds of feet below—one dog in a harness, one bird kid short on the right side—and clutched the charred sneaker tighter to my chest as my wings carried me. We couldn’t give Dylan a twelve-gun salute, or even a funeral. At least we could give him one last flight.
    I banked left, and the flock fell into line behind me, following like an extension of my own body. Ahead of us, sunlight peeked through the eerie rainbow of color that had illuminated the sky since D-day. Below us, the water still churned with the rough waves left over from the tsunami, and a chain of volcanoes rose from the depths of the ocean. Their combined cloud of ash was racing to covereverything, from the pink cliffs of the islands to the white feathers of Angel’s wings.
    I’d thought flying would make me feel better, like it always had. Wind rustling my hair and muting my thoughts as I soared into the open. No sounds, no obstacles—just the ocean before us and sky all around. Freedom.
    Growing up in a cage makes you really appreciate open spaces.
    But it had been a while since I’d seen the world this way, and taken stock of all we’d lost. Cities.
People.
The grief felt like a cold, hard knot in the center of me, pulling me down, down into all that gray water.
    I felt a hand on my left shoulder and sensed Fang’s dark figure just outside my peripheral vision. “You okay?” I nodded and slowed down, realizing we’d been flying for probably half a day.
    I’d just wanted to get ahead of the cloud, to lay Dylan to rest under a clear sky. But the ash was moving too fast.
    I held the shoe out and the kids hovered in a circle. It was just a shoe, just a piece of half-melted rubber. I took a breath.
    You have to do it. Do it for the flock.
    “Good-bye, Dylan,” I whispered.
    “Good-bye,” my flock echoed.
    Then I opened my fingers. Just like that.
    As I watched the sneaker plummet, I remembered Dylan falling from the roof when I’d taught him to fly,barely a year ago. The feeling of his body beside mine that night we took refuge in the desert. The tree house he had made just for me. His last words: “I’ll catch up.” Wasn’t he always trying to catch up with me? I drew a shaky breath.
    No.
    I dove hard, reaching toward the chunk of blackened rubber. But I was too late, and I watched the waves swallow up all that remained of Dylan.
    I flipped and shot back into the sky, angry tears streaming down my face. He was just one more person who had fallen beyond my reach. Like my mom and Ella.
    I’d refused to believe it. Even when Angel stopped hearing their thoughts from the underground caves, and even when the months had passed without any sign of life other than us, I couldn’t accept that we were all alone.
    Their bodies could still be there, somewhere.
    “Let’s turn back,” I shouted over my shoulder.
    Fang looked alarmed. “You want to go back to the island?”
    “It’s our home.” My words were thick, threatening another waterfall.
Their
home.
    He flew up next to my ear. “Max, it’s a wasteland,” he said urgently. “And even if we
could
somehow breathe the air, we’ll never make it back before nightfall.”
    “It doesn’t—”
    “Them’s the rules, Max.”
Angel’s voice in my head.
    “I felt a pressure change a couple of miles back—I’m pretty sure we passed land to the west,” Iggy offered frommy other side. Despite his blindness—or because of it—his other senses were sharper than razors. “It might be worth checking out.”
    We’d passed other islands before, but most were tiny—no shelter, no fresh water. When we reached the one Iggy had felt, it was different. Bigger. We couldn’t even see where it ended. Actually, we couldn’t see much: Three active volcanoes just off the coast were spewing towers of lava and ash. It made us feel right at home. Not.
    It was a big detour to get around them, but once we were