Saving the World and Other Extreme Sports

49

"Max! Sweetheart," said Jeb. "I'm glad they're letting you get some exercise."

I stared at him. "So I'll be in really good shape when they kill me?"

He winced and sort of cleared his throat.

"Hi, Max," said Angel.

I just looked at her.

"You should really try one of these cookies," she said, holding out a chocolate-chip chunk of treason.

"Thanks. I'll make a note of it. You lying traitor."

"Max-you know I had to do what was right," she said. "You weren't making the best decisions anymore."

"Yeah, like the one when I decided to come rescue your skinny, ungrateful butt," I said.

Her small shoulders sagged, and her face looked sad.

Be strong, Maximum, I told myself. You know what you gotta do.

"I have lots of special powers," she said. "I deserve to be the leader. I deserve to be saved. I'm much, much more special than you or Fang."

"You just keep telling yourself that," I said coldly. "But don't expect me to get on board."

Her heart-shaped face turned mutinous. "I don't need you to get on board, Max." Her voice had an edge of steel in it. She'd learned that from me. What else had she learned? "This is all happening whether you're on board or not. You're going to be retired soon, anyway." She took an angry bite of cookie.

"Maybe. But if I am, I'm going to come back and haunt you, every day for the rest of your hard, traitorous little life."

Her eyes widened, and she actually took a step back.

"Okay, that's enough, you two," said Jeb, just the way he used to when some of us would mix it up back in the day.

"Whatever," I said in my trademark bored tone. I stepped around them, avoiding any touch as if they were poison, and headed down the hall. My heart was pounding, and I felt an unwelcome flush heat my cheeks.

Ari caught up to me. We walked in silence for a while, then he said, as if offering a consolation prize, "They're building an army, you know."

Of course they are, I thought, feeling depressed. "How do you know?"

"I've seen them. There's a whole hangar full of Flyboys, hanging up, charging. They have thousands, and they're making more all the time. They're growing Eraser skins in the lab."

"Why are you telling me this?" I asked.

He frowned, looking confused. Then he shrugged. "I don't know. I've always seen you fight. Even though I know you can't get out of this, it's like I still want you to know what you're up against."

"Are you setting me up?" I asked bluntly. "Is this a trap? I mean, even more of a trap than it obviously already is?"

He shook his head. "No. It's just...I know I'm never getting out of here. My time's over. I guess part of me hopes you still have a chance."

It made some sort of sad, pathetic sense.

"Oh, I'm getting out of here, I promise you." And maybe, just maybe, I would take him with us.