Sweeping,swooping,soaring,air-current thrill rides there's nothing better. For miles around,we were the only things in the infinite, wide open, clear blue sky. You want an adrenaline rush? Try tucking your wings in, dive-bombing for about a mile straight down, then whoosh! Wings out,grab an air current like a pit bull, and hang on for the ride of your life.
Okay, we were mutant freaks, we were on the lam, but man, flying----- well, there's a reason people always dream about it.
I cast a quick glance at my flock. Fang, Iggy, and I were holding steady, but we had mucho de stamina. I mean, the younger set also had stamina, especially compared to dinky little non mutant humans. But even they gave out eventually.
Here's the deal--- for anybody new on this trip. There are seven of us. Angel, who's six. Gasman or Gassy, age eight. Iggy, who's fourteen, and blind.Nudge, eleven. Fang and me (Max) we're fourteen too. And a black dog that can talk and has wings. Oh, and we all have wings.
We are six kids, and a dog, running for our lives, not knowing where our next meal was coming from. Could we afford to feed a dog? Wait for it-- no.
When we'd been escaping the Institute, in New York, Erasers and whitecoats had shown up, of course. Erasers,if you don't know all ready, are wolflike creatures who have been chasing us constanly since we escaped the lab, or School as we call it.
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