Maximum Ride Fan Fiction / Maximum Ride Fan Fiction ❯ If I Asked You To, Would You Kill Me? ❯ Angels' Sanctuary ( Chapter 17 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
By: Irene Sharda
When Fang's new friend Sky goes unconcious, he has to find his way throught his friend's huge home.

Non Anime: Maximum Ride Fan Fiction / Maximum Ride Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Suspense / Sci-fi / Romance / Adventure / Action | Type: Divergence | Uploaded On: 05.23.2008 | Pages: 4 | Words: 7.9K | Visits: 177 | Status: Work In Progress

Chapter 17
Fang tested his strength by putting one leg on the ground. Still feeling somewhat strong, he stood up on both legs. A quick wave of dizziness hit him, causing him to wobble slightly, but he would be okay soon. Removing the IV needle from his arm, he walked slowly and quietly to the door.
Opening it a crack, he looked outside. There wasn't much out there, but a long hall way with white walls. However, near his door, two men sat in a couple of chairs. Both were young guys, late teens, early twenties. One was Hispanic looking with long shiny black hair tied in a ponytail, wearing a white leather jacket, white jeans, and a t-shirt. The other was a Caucasian blond, he wore a tank top and jeans, his arms were wrapped in bandages. They were both sound asleep, sprawled on their chairs.
Looking closer at the blond, Fang was surprised to see the strange winged tattoo on his shoulder. One that was identical to the one on Sky, in the exact same place, with the exact same ink. Hmm, must be some sort of symbol.
There was no one else out there, but he didn't know how big this place was. That guy Sky had said that this was an abandoned museum, which meant it was probably a big place. There could be any number of people here and he might never see them. He was still too weak to use most of his powers, however getting out of here was priority. He knew there were Erasers after him, and according to what Sky said, he'd escaped a least two days ago. He'd stayed here too long; he didn't want these people to get in trouble, or killed because of him. They had done so much for him, giving him a place to sleep and rest, treated his wounds, and they hadn't been scared or prejudice of him, even when he'd unwittingly hurt them. He'd noticed the bandages on the blond and had known automatically that he had been the cause. I need to get away, if the Erasers don't hurt these guys, I will…
Silently, he closed the door and walked to the bed. Making it up neatly, he then pushed out one of his wings. Pulling out a single feather from the top, he was surprised at how light it still was. Thought it was still shaped and fitted like a regular feather. The only difference was that every strand and vein was made of an extremely lightweight metal. It shined in the light, and Fang could see how if anyone touched it, their fingers would get cut as if by a razor blade.
Quickly, he placed the feather on the center of the pillow, his little memento to Sky for all his help. He wished he could do more, but maybe he would come back here when this was all over…you know, to thank them properly.
Walking over to the window, he fully raised the shutter enough to let him out. He instantly felt the cold wind wrap around his body. Must be a desert region I'm in, extreme hot in the daytime, extreme cold at night. He wasn't strong enough to fly yet, so he'd have to make it on foot—
“You won't survive out there, not dressed like that.”
Spinning around, he was surprised to see Sky come in, closing the door behind him. Not even glancing in his direction, the man took off his jacket and sat down in the chair. Appearing to relax for a few seconds, he finally shifted his eye over to the mutant-teen. “Well? Are you going in or out? You're letting out all the heat.”
Fang balled up his fist in frustration, careful not to let his claws out. He would never be able to leave like this, his conscience wouldn't let him. Plus, Sky had a point. He looked down at his bare chest, only wrapped in bandages, not to mention that he was still weak from his unexplained illness and his self-inflicted wounds. He might be a fast healer, but that wouldn't help with hypothermia.
Closing the window, Fang went back to sit on the bed, watching his mysterious benefactor for the next move.
Sky was still sprawled out on his chair, apparently worn out. Opening his eyes once again, the man sighed and got up, and moved over to Fang's side. Taking the boy's wrist, he held it in between his fingers. After a few seconds he let go, then took out a penlight from his pocket. “You're pulse is to our norm, which means you must be slowly getting better, since your pulse is supposed to be faster than standard. Now let me look at your eyes.”
Fang sat still as the man shined the light in his eyes, “Why are you helping me? You don't want money, and I have nothing else of worth. You have no connections to me, and I must warn you—you don't want to get involved with my problems.”
Sky put his light away. “You're eyes are fine. The pupils are dilating elliptically, but I'm guessing that's normal too. Could you lie down, please?”
Fang did as he was told, but he didn't let his question go on ignored. “Why aren't you afraid of me? Don't you find it a little strange that a fifteen year-old boy has metal wings, fangs, retractable claws, and a host of other strange things? Why don't you report me to the authorities, the television stations, or some sort of scientists? A freak like me could get you a lot of money.”
The man went around to the desk and picked up a stethoscope. “Fifteen, huh? I would have put you at seventeen, at least. You must age differently, or maybe you're just very mature. That sometimes makes you look older. Could you take a deep breath for me?”
Doing as told, Fang once again became frustrated. He was getting nowhere, but through his silence, Sky was making him spill his guts! Why was he letting his guard down so often recently?
He then felt the man's hand touching something on his chest. “Did you get the bullet removed from this wound?”
Fang looked at the spot he was touching. It was the scar from the gunshot wound near his heart that seemed like a lifetime ago. Back when he was with the flock, and he was normal, at least as normal as ever would get…
He laid back down on the pillow, “I think so, I don't really know. At least that's what the guy who did the procedure told me. But I trust him, as much as a shifty-eyed viper. In fact, I'd probably trust the viper more.”
Sky dug into his pocket, “Well, we're going to have to make sure. This will hurt some, but I need you to bear with me. After seeing how strong you are, and how you were about to run away in your condition, I don't think it'll be much of a problem for you.”
His hand reemerged—with a scalpel in his palm.
Fang jumped up from the bed, his instincts taking hold and claws popping out. “Hey! Get away from me with that thing!”
Sky put the knife down slowly and cautiously, “Look, I put it down Fang. But I'm going to have to make sure the bullets out.”
The leader could see that the boy was starting to freak. So, his phobia extends to all sharp medical equipment. It's not as severe as that of needles, but I need to find out if that bullet's in there, and unfortunately, I don't have an x-ray machine in my arsenal. Looks like I'm going to have to do this the hard way…
He walked slowly up to Fang, talking in soft tones with reassuring words. “Look Fang …it's alright…you can calm down…no one's going to hurt you…”
Sky continued repeating these words, watching as Fang at first backed away scared stiff, his weakness making him beyond sentient consciousness. But the soothing hypnosis of his words, soon drove the troubled boy to him.
Sky took Fang into his comforting embrace, talking to him like he was his father or long-lost brother. The bird-teen wasn't sure what was the cause for the sudden softness and caring, but his body completely subjected to it. He hugged Sky back, glad to be rid of his frantic fears and distrust.
Suddenly, Fang gasped sharply! Darkness flooded his consciousness, and he began to go limp.
Sky felt the boy collapse in his hold. Holding up the boy with his right arm, his left hand removed the syringe he'd just injected into Fang's neck.
He laid the sleeping boy down again on the bed, then picked up the scalpel and went to work. He'd had entry level training in psychological hypnosis, but he hated using it. However, a person caught in a phobic panic like Fang was, obviously wouldn't listen to reason. He'd had no choice, but to deceive the boy.
Sighing, he commented aloud, “I hope his system can deal with this stuff.”
He felt the pain of the new scratches on his back from Fang's embrace. All thoughts of overdosing him gone, he thought to himself, Reminder: Drug the guy BEFORE you bring out the sharp medical instruments.
He slowly began to cut a small `x' incision over the diameter of the wound's scar tissue.
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Fang awoke once again and reached toward his neck. He slowly recollected that he'd freaked out again. Sky had somehow calmed him down, only to use his anesthetic drug again when his guard was down.
Looking around him, he saw Sky softly snoring in the chair, seemingly exhausted, the light of morning coming through the window. He observed some slight pain in his chest, and looking down he saw a new bandage over his heart.
Sitting up slowly, he tried to shake off the grogginess from the drug he was swiftly becoming familiar with.
“Sorry about that, but I had to check.”
Fang wasn't even surprised anymore; he looked over at Sky, who stared back at him through half-closed eyes. He laughed slightly, “So, was it still in there?”
The tired man nodded to the tray beside the bed, “See for yourself.”
There on the roll-away standing tray was a small metal bowl. Inside it, Fang could see a steel bullet, as bright as day, covered with his dark blood and crushed on one end from impact.
Sky got up tiredly and walked to his side, “If I hadn't taken it out, the bullet would have kept sliding toward your heart and killed you. From the amount of scar tissue that has built around it, I estimate it's been in there for at least a week. The only reason why you're still alive is because you haven't been flying much.”
He looked at him confused. “No, I was only able to fly for a few hours before I got too tired. What does that have to do with anything?”
“The bullet is in a place where the muscles and tendons that attach between your wings and your chest, the action of you flapping your wings, would move the bullet forward slowly towards your heart. If you kept it up, you would have probably died in a day or two.”
Fang balled his fist up in anger. “That bastard…he left it in there just in case I escaped, and told me…Ugh!!”
In anger, his claws popped out cutting into his palms.
Sky sighed and retrieved some more bandages from the cart tray table. “Would you stop that? You're going to look like a mummy soon.”
He began to disinfect the wounds. “Sorry I had to hypnotize you like that. I didn't know how else to make you calm down.”
Fang looked at the man as he bandaged his hands. He could see that Sky looked less handsome than when the two first met, he was haggard-looking, his clothes and hair unkempt, and he face screamed for a full-night of sleep. As far as he could tell, Sky had stayed and taken care of him three days nonstop. Treating and caring for his wounds, watching his condition, and holding him up in a place to stay, without even asking for anything in return. He had yet to figure this guy out, but he liked him very much.
“That's alright, Sky. This phobia of mine, it's kind of new to me. I mean, I've almost always had this fear and hate for needles, and for cages. But, I've never freaked out like this before.”
“Something might have brought it to the surface. Some sort of ultimate trauma or pain that was inflicted upon you, perhaps?” Sky suggested.
Fang thought back to the appalling laser that Jeb had used on him. That had to be it. As much pain as he'd learned to endure, that machine gave him a new definition of it. “I think I know what you mean.”
Sky put all the medical supplies on the tray, and rolled it out of the way into a corner. “Well anyway, as long as you keep up what your body's doing, and you don't have anymore outbursts, you should heal up fine. I wouldn't recommend you go anywhere for a couple of days, but you can do whatever you want. You're free to go whenever you like.”
With that he rose from his bedside staggeringly, reaching inside his pocket, he pulled out the feather Fang had left. “You left this on your pillow. You're probably shedding, I'll just keep it.”
Fang smiled as he was walking away, knowing that the man knew full well he wasn't shedding, and that he was just going to keep the feather as Fang had intended for it to be: a memento.
He was about to sit back and relax a little, when he saw Sky fall in his tracks! He had just been walking, suddenly swayed with a slight moan, then fell to the ground in a heap!
Fang was up in a second, already by the man's side. Sudden alarm went through his head as he held the man's unconscious form. “Sky! Come on, Sky!”
Putting his ear to the man's chest, he made sure there was breathing and a heartbeat before he slung the man's arm over his shoulder and hoisted him up.
He had yet to really meet anyone else in this place, beyond the door of this room. But Sky needed help, and despite what the others in this house could think about him, they would take care of their leader. And not only that, Fang would be damned if he couldn't help the man that had selflessly helped him in his time of need, without thinking of his own health…
Holding Sky up, he opened the door and took his first step outside.
After leaving the plain white walls of the foyer that had been obviously designed as a waiting room to the apparent sickbay he'd been kept in, he made his way to a large expansive hallway.
Traveling further he found his way to an empty, large stairway. As he went down the stairs, careful not to drag Sky's feet along the ground, he couldn't help but thin how big this place was. It was much bigger then even the library he'd went to in the city. It was old however, the paint on the walls was cracked and worn, the wood and marble of the stairs had eroded and rotted away in many spots.
However, there's little dust. This place may look it, but it's not abandoned…
Once he made it down the large staircase, he found himself going around a few twisty hallways. It was after he thought he wouldn't be rid of the dim white-walled tunnels, lit by portable floodlights, that he finally saw sunlight come from the end. He once again checked Sky's breathing. Finding it okay, he comforted himself aloud, “Hang on, Sky. I'm going to get you some help. It's the least I can do…”
He suddenly stopped in his tracks.
He had stepped out of the long string of huge hallways, onto an even more gigantic landing, framed by intricate but decrepit pillars and columns, which led down a very expansive grand staircase!
The extensive foyer that was at the stairs' foot, was big enough to fit two ballrooms. The middle of the marble floor held a huge but nonfunctioning sculpted fountain, and more columns lined the walls, almost as if they held up the chiseled ceiling. Looking up from where he'd come, he also saw that the door he'd come out of was surrounded on both sides by two smaller ascending staircases that led up to a second floor, complete with balconies which overshadowed the foyer. The ceiling was crosshatched with cobwebbed, crystal chandeliers, but other than that, the place was empty of debris and dust, completely swept and kept clean.
Trying to get over his complete awe, Fang slowly remembered what Sky had told him the first day he'd awoken in this place.
`You're at my home/headquarters—a little rundown abandoned museum we like to call: the Conservatory…'
“So this place is an abandoned museum, huh? You sure think big, Sky. Live here all by yourself? Or are your friends here too? I hope so, I don't know the first thing about medicine, and I want to leave taking you to a hospital as a last resort.”
The man he held on his shoulder moaned in his unconscious, delirious oblivion. “Aya…I didn't…I didn't mean…please stay, stay with me….”
Fang looked at the man, wondering who the heck Aya was, when he felt the man slump he farther onto him.
“Hey, stay with me Sky! It's just trying to get through your huge house here that's slowing me down.”
As he tried to get a better grip on him, something dropped from around Sky's neck and clattered on the stone step. Clumsily bending down and picking it up, Fang unconsciously stuffed the object in his pocket without looking at it, to give to its owner, once he had gotten the owner some help.
Hurrying down the long flight of stairs as fast as he could, he stood in the foyer and let his mutant hearing try to pick up any sounds. Between the giant classical pillars were four doorways, four branches that led to other twists and tunnels within this enormous `house'. He could be searching for hours before he'd ever find anyone!
Picking up slight voices and shuffling footsteps, he followed his ears toward the first left-hand portal and headed down the dim passageway. Going through hallways, and twists and turns, he began to realize how good a hideout it was. Sky's gang, whoever they were, could probably hold out against an entire police force in a place this big. Plenty of places and shadows to hide in, to stage an offensive, to make an escape…
He slowed down when he saw a halfway open doorway, which was the source of the voices he had traced. Shifting Sky closer to him and getting a better grip, he silently looked through the crack into the room. Life on the run, had taught him that it was always better to be prepared, then to go rushing blindly into a situation.
What he saw shouldn't have surprised him, yet it still kind of did. After seeing nothing but empty space up until now, it was just surprising to see people at work, as if it was perfectly natural. In the room were four men, all strapping young lads who looked like they knew the streets, and could perfectly handle themselves while on them.
They were working in what looked like a strategy room. Some papers were strewn all over a large table in the middle of the room, while others were pinned, stapled, tacked, or taped to the walls. There were at least three rolling dry eraser and clear boards that were full of writing in scribbles, all in black, red, or blue markers. In the corner were a couple of surprisingly ultra-new laptop computers that sat on a tabletop, on and ready for use. If the place didn't have a huge mural painted on it's ceiling, a beautifully-planned marble floor, and haphazardly boarded-up windows, the place would have looked like it had come out of any police station or government headquarters.
Two of the men he recognized. One, sporting a blond ponytail and wearing a white tank and black cargo pants, was the same one he'd seen sitting in front of his door asleep, his arms, as they were now, had been bandaged. I guess I owe him a little trust, since I probably causedthose wounds…
The second he recognized, was the man from the park. He was also a blond, but his was more dirty blond compared to the other's sunnier hair. His was also not in a ponytail, but cut short and curled around the nape of his neck. His dress was a simple pair of blue jeans, and a white long-sleeve top, the front unbuttoned showing a distinctly muscular physique. He was the same man who'd been trying to calm him down, and later tried to drug him. His memory wasn't very good at that moment, but he remembered the man's face, it was kind and understanding, yet distrustful at the same time. It almost looked as if the guy had once been trustful of everybody, but then later grew to suspect anybody; a simple innocence that had been violated and stolen away.
The other two men he'd never seen before, or at least he didn't remember. One had to be practically the identical twin of the pony-tailed blond, same clothes, same pants, same hairstyle and length, same blue-green eyes, the only difference was that he had brilliant, flaming crimson hair that seemed it was made of fire. The other had short sandy brown hair under a backward Angels baseball cap. He wore a pair of smart looking glasses and an engineer's jumpsuit, only halfway zipped with a white t-shirt beneath it. Though he wore glasses, he didn't look geeky in the least. He exuded a presence of inner strength and determination, which he seemed to share with his comrades.
Right now they stood around, checking paper and talking among themselves, their back mostly to him. He didn't see anything particularly threatening to him, and if he remembered right, Sky had promised that none of his men would harm him. He hoped they were good to their word. He didn't want to hurt anyone, especially with his weakened condition.
Sliding through the doorway like a skilled contortionist, he came in behind the men without making so much as a muffled step. The men hadn't even noticed that he'd entered.
“Uh-hmm…” Fang cleared his throat.
The four men, turned around with such speed, it almost seemed inhuman! Two even put their hands in their pockets, indicating that there were hidden weapons about.
He looked at them with a pleading half-smile, “He needs your help. Can you please do something for him?”
It took the four some time to gather their wits and realize who was talking to them, and exactly who exactly he was talking about. Suddenly, their surprise was taken over by genuine worry. They quickly came and took Sky off his shoulders then placing him on the floor, the ponytail blond, and his twin immediately went on their knees checking the guy's pulse. The other two stood above them with looks of apprehension.
“Is he breathing?” Glasses asked.
“I think so, but…” the shorthaired blond commented, before looking at Fang with such untrustworthy venom, the boy had to take a step back.
“What did you do to him?” the man asked angrily.
“Nothing, he simply fell out! He's going to be okay isn't he?” Fang went on the defensive.
“Why should I trust a freak like you? Sky's been around nobody but you. You did this, didn't you? So help me, if he's—” He made a move to unveil whatever weapon was in his pocket, but—before he could draw it, Glasses put a restraining hand on his arm.
“No Joaquin, you can't prove anything. Plus, you know what Sky said.”
“Sky is on the ground, Tyler.” the man called Joaquin retorted, gesturing towards their fallen leader.
The redhead stood and put a hand on his shoulder. “Joaquin, what the boss says, goes. Whether he's out of commission or not. We only take action upon the event of his death. You know that.”
“But Kurt, he—”
“—didn't do anything.” The blond on the ground said looking up at them.
The redhead, Kurt, gestured to his twin. “What's wrong with him, Luke? We'll get you whatever you need.”
Ponytail blond, Luke, said, “I told Sky to stop pressing himself so hard. It's simple fatigue. He's been working with the boy for three days straight, without sleep and very little food and water. His body just fell out. He'll be okay in a couple of hours, we have to feed him and stuff, make sure he stays in bed for at least a day.”
Joaquin gritted his teeth in aggravation, mixed with concern. “Why does he have to spend so much time with this freak? He's going to work—”
Luke and Kurt both looked at him with stern gazes, “That is his concern, not ours. Our only job is to follow, to the best of our abilities.”
Luke then stood and gestured toward their leader's body, “Take him to his room Joaquin, I'll get up there as soon as I can.”
The dirty blond grudgingly hoisted Sky onto his back, and carried him gently out of the room, but not before giving Fang a last stern stare.
Fang cringed a little, yet still looking at Sky still unconscious on his back. He hadn't slept in three days? He'd been watching over him all that time? Making sure his wounds and sickness were tended to, but not caring two cents about himself? Man, if Sky wasn't okay… How did he ever get this attached to one guy? He'd only known him from when he was coming in and out of consciousness, yet he was actually caringabout the man's health…
There was suddenly a gentle hand on his shoulder, turning he saw the other three had gathered around him, Luke squeezed his shoulder in reassurance. “Don't worry about him; Sky's going to be fine. You did nothing wrong.”
He looked toward the man with sincere regret. “I-I'm really sorry.”
The redhead, gave him a friendly punch in the shoulder. “Like he said, there's nothing to be sorry for. Sky trusts you being here. He wouldn't have given you his hedge of protection if he hadn't. Don't think on what that other guy said; you're not a freak, and you're not responsible.”
Glasses smiled, “Yeah kid, we've been actually waiting to meet you in person. The only one who's been able to talk to you coherently was Sky. And he wouldn't let anybody in there until you were okay. My name's Tyler Marks by the way. You can of course just call me Tyler.”
Fang automatically took to Tyler. He had a kind nature about him, yet he was definitely no pushover. His glasses made him look smart and cuddly, yet could make him look very intimidating at the same time.
The redhead extended his hand and flashed a bright, practically movie star smile. “Yeah, Tyler speaks the truth. My name is Kurt Lancaster by the way. And the guy next to you, who looks a lot like me, is my twin brother Luke. I'm the oldest however…”
“By one minute!” the blond interjected.
Kurt waved a dismissing hand towards him. “Whatever, I'm still the oldest. Anyway, the guy who left is Joaquin Delphi. He's a little rough around the edges and usually he's one of the most lighthearted guys among us. He's just really protective of Sky, even more than the rest of us are. Sky's like his big brother, even though we're all really close here.”
Luke interrupted, “Speaking of which, I have to attend to Sky before Joaquin gets antsy and comes back down here and hunts me down. Jackie's not here now, so I'm on my own.”
Kurt nodded to his brother. “Luke and another guy, Jackie Snide, are Sky's protégés. They're our three-man medical team. By the way, what's your name kid?”
He blinked, “Uh…the name's Fang.”
The three looked at each other. Kurt laughed amused, “Cute, I meant your real name. We won't make fun of it, I swear.”
The bird-teen looked at him seriously, “If you mean the name I was born with, my name was F1099. But I'll kill you if you call me that. Everyone I even consider talking to, just calls me Fang.”
The three looked at each other once again, a secret message passing between them. They then turned back to him and smiled. Kurt extended his hand once again and this time Fang took it. “Then, Fang it is. Glad to meet you.”
Luke was about to leave when he looked around and nodded to Fang. “Want to come with? I know you're really worried about Sky. We can also see if we can get you something to eat afterward...and maybe a shirt.”
The bird teen smiled, totally forgetting that he was walking around shirtless. He enjoyed the small group. They were a great change from his constant life on the lam. And with the slight exception of this Joaquin, everyone was really friendly and hospitable. They didn't seem to mind that he had long metal wings, silver-yellow eyes, gray skin, fangs, and retractable claws. He looked around to the others, but Kurt and Tyler just waved him along. “Just go, Luke will make sure you don't get lost. We've still got thing to take care of here.”
Fang nodded and followed his guide out the door. Only walking for a few minutes going the way he had come, he heard Kurt and Tyler talking from back in the room.
“Sky was right. He's possibly from one of the government funded-Itex facilities. I had heard rumors that they were using human trafficking as well as illegal stem cell and fertilization technology to do genetic research on humans. I never thought that it was to this type of extent. But seeing Fang…” Tyler commented.
Kurt shushed him, “Quiet down, we don't want the boy to feel unsafe here by talking about his past. He's probably been through enough already. And if he is the product of Itex research, then it has become our duty to protect him.”
Fang began to go out of range, but he was already puzzled enough by what he'd heard. How did these guys know about Itex? What else did they know? Could they possibly know where Max and the flock were?
He then steered away from that question. He couldn't be with the flock again until he could get his body and mind together. He had to get Blade under tight control…anything to prevent that horrible dream from coming true. He could still imagine Max's dying body in his arms, screaming at him that he had killed the flock. A few weeks ago, he'd tell you, you were crazy to even suggest the idea. But now, he wasn't so sure…