The Winged Legacy: A Maximum Ride Fan Fiction

Chapter 6

Big Texas detached me from the heart monitor and removed the cannula while Pinky Waist pulled the IV out of my hand and placed a bandage over it. Soon I was following them out of the room. I watched Pinky Waist close the windowless door to the room in which I was held and saw that a piece of paper was stuck to it. SUBJECT 01-564

Pinky Waist conjured up some explanation for his departure before fleeting down the hallway, leaving me alone to deal with Big Texas, or vice versa. Most likely vice versa.

My mind ran with ideas; bash her over the head with a chair, swap clothing with her, and find the others. And then my common sense would provide light to point out the many, many holes in my plans.

How weird did I feel to be walking amongst the whitecoats? Incredibly weird. They didn't bat an eye at me, and for one extremely crazy second it felt like walking around a normal hospital where the doctors and nurses weren't injecting me with foreign chemicals.

But then I'd feel the weight of the wings attacked to my back and remember where I was. Satan's medical center. Cue lightning in the background.

There were more changes to me besides the wings. Everything seemed louder: voices, footsteps, electric equipment. I peered around the hallway in amazement; even my eyesight was sharper. I could see farther down the hallway where there were windows that I hoped we would walk by, and we did.

Behind Big Texas, I paused for a moment to take in the view, and my hope plummeted. All I could see was hot desert and mountains in the distance, not anywhere close to the Eastern Coast. The sun was out, high in the afternoon sky, baking everything to a fried crisp. Every now and then a breeze would blow dust across the barren earth. It really did look like hell.

"Come along dearie," Big Texas called after me, and I turned away from the bleak sight.

"Do you mind if I ask where we are?" I said as I caught up to her. Using such a polite tone with someone so sordid tasted bitter to me but a puny sacrifice to get the information I needed.

"Well, technically I'm not supposed to tell you anything about our association, but we'll be working together for a while," she said nonchalantly. "We're in the California territory of Death Valley."

California. Death Valley. I really was in the abyss.

"Oh," I said, fighting to keep calm. This was my first time in California and I'm spending it here? Honestly I prefer the beach or somewhere nice in the Sacramento Valley. "I've never been to California before."

"Welcome then!" she said cheerfully. "I hear that you're from Virginia, yes?"

"Yeah," I said lowly. "Land of colonial stuff."

"That sounds so charming," she replied and gestured to a door to my left. "Right in here, darling."

We walked into what appeared to be a small conference room. A long table stood in the middle of the room, surround by chairs with a water tank hanging out in the corner. Besides the lack of furniture the room was blank, no pictures to decorate the walls, only a lonely black and white analog clock.

"Have a seat. Megan, is it, right?" she said as she took the head chair. Hearing my name felt like an illusion. I sat to her right, within strangling distance.

"Yes," I answered firmly. My name is Megan. I am Megan. Capital M.

"How do you like your wings?"

"They're feathery." The wings do not belong to me, so no, no I do not like them. Where's the receipt?

"How are you adjusting to the change?"

"It's a big change." I'm secretly screaming inside. Can you hear it?

As I answered each question, she took notes on a yellow-papered notepad, careful to keep it angled away from me. "How does this place make you feel?"

"Uncomfortable." Scared shitless.

Her pen wrote down that and then some. "Ok, and what do you think of the other kids?"

"They seem nice," I said, holding back a nervous laugh.

"Do you hold any past relationships with any of them?"

"Nope," I said. Have I? "Never met them, but I sort of know Jared from school but he's a class above me."

At this, she looked up at me carefully, attempting to read my expression which I kept fairly closed. "Is that so, Max?"

"Really," I said before I caught it, and Big Texas smiled down at her notepad. I shut my mouth and looked hard at her. "What did you call me?"

"Nothing, just a slip of the tongue," she waved it off like smoke. Somehow I didn't believe her; somehow I felt a bang of identification. The name sounded almost normal to me. Why?

I leaned closer as I said, "I'm not understanding the significance of these questions."

"The board would just like to know how you are coping. Sometimes stress can effect positive progress," she said matter-of-factly as she laced her fingers together.

"What's their definition of progress?"

"Pardon?" she battered her eyes as if she didn't hear me.

"What kind of progress? What's their objective? What do they want from me?" I emphasized.

"Just your cooperation and dedication," she replied.

"To what exactly? What's the goal?"

"Your goal," she said pointedly, "Is to be the best you can be. To follow our instructions and obey to our wishes." She paused with a thoughtful expression, a finger on her chin, "Do you have any more questions?"

"Yes," I said and looked her straight in the eye. "When can I go home?"

Big Texas just smiled wryly. "I'm afraid that may be a long time."