The Pack

For a few weeks after Fang left, I'd been virtually catatonic and weepy. I couldn't eat, couldn't sleep, and mostly couldn't even get out of bed. And I'm not going to lie; I feel the same way now as I did then.

But stupid dumb idiot Fang had been a tiny, microscopic smidge right, in that the Flock did need me. They certainly weren't worse off then I was, but they were a mess, too, even with my mom staying to help. So I'd pulled it together on the outside, and only allowed myself to cry when I was completely alone and out of everyone's hearing-range (or mind reading range).

It was a huge accomplishment.

I'd even mastered the art of hiding my lonely, heartbroken thoughts from Angel. Mostly, it was a matter of being so occupied that my mind didn't wander. It'd been several weeks and I hadn't slipped up yet. I was sure she was keeping an eye on me.

But enough about me. I'm not the reason I'm here. No, I'm here to tell you about our alter-egos, the Pack.

42 days. It had been 42 days since Fang left. Yes, I was counting the days. So? How else would I know when it had been twenty years? Not that I would even really wait twenty years. I was going to give him about six months before I went and kicked his sorry ass.

Anyway, I woke up on the 42nd day to the smell of cinnamon. I sauntered into the kitchen to find Iggy already up and working on breakfast. Cinnamon toast—yum.

"Morning Max," he mumbled, accustomed to the sound of my footsteps.

"Mornin' Ig. How come you're up so early?" His nose wrinkled a little.

"I couldn't sleep." Since Fang left, the whole Flock was a little more open with their emotions. I'm not saying we all wore our hearts on our sleeves, but we weren't afraid to tell each other how we were feeling.

"How come?"

"I had a nightmare last night," he answered solemnly. I was immediately concerned. We'd learned that Iggy had had a nightmare the night before Fang left. He'd explained how in it, the Flock was running, came to a cliff, and jumped off, unfurling our wings. But Fang had tucked his in and plummeted down. Now we were all wondering if it was an odd coincidence, or if it was a new power.

"What happened in it?" I asked. Iggy sighed.

"It was weird. We were running through some forest, and there were Erasers…but they were different. More streamline, agile…it was so odd. I don't know, but…it seemed like we were running with them, not from them."

I processed this as Iggy worked on breakfast. We knew that Erasers had been wiped out, but the thought of allied Erasers made me think of my half-brother, Ari. I got a stab of regret, remembering his death. Then another, remembering how I'd reunited with Fang shortly after. And one more when I remembered how it was then that he'd promised to never leave me again. Stupid, no good liar.

But something else was nagging at my mind. "Ig, if they were with us, then why was it a nightmare?" He glanced at me with wide blue, unseeing eyes.

"We were still running from something."

•••

Fangs POV

It freaking sucked. Day 42, and where did Fang stand? Crappy shelter, no flock, and no plan. At first, he'd had a plan, but it hadn't panned out the way he'd hoped. Or at all. So now he was stuck wallowing in his own self-pitty.

God, he missed her. It was all he could do not to jump up, spread his wings, and rush back to her. But that would contradict everything he'd done thus far. He'd be back where he started. And if he went back now, eventually he'd come up with another plan and have to leave again. He couldn't do that to Max.

As he lay there on his back, reminiscing, probably invisible, he heard light, graceful footsteps approaching him.

His first thought was, Oh God, what if it's someone from the Flock? And his second was, Shit, what if it's not?

Fang kept his sharp eyes locked on the entrance to the cave. He kept completely still, hoping to blend in with his surroundings. Breath held, teeth clenched, he braced himself…

When in ambled a short blonde guy, no older than 14.

•••

Ig explained his dream to the rest of the Flock aver breakfast. Now we were all on high alert as we cleaned the kitchen. We each had a job: Gazzy and Nudge cleared the table, Iggy and I did the dishes, and Angel was on lookout. We'd switch the lookout periodically throughout the day.

By noon, it was my turn to be on watch. I assumed my position in the chair by the window and…well…watched. It was times like this when my mind wanted to wander the most. But Angel was in the other room, so I made it a point to concentrate extremely hard on my job.

In fact, I was probably concentrating too hard on concentrating too hard. Because I was so concerned with guarding my thoughts, I almost missed the several figured that appeared on the horizon. Almost.

"Flock!" I called. They were gathered around me in an instant, depicting my tone of urgency. I nodded at the window. "I count five. They don't seem to be creeping, or armed, so they might not be threats, but be prepared for a fight regardless. I think we should meet them out there so that if this does get ugly it won't get dragged into the house." It was so weird, making a plan without my right-hand man here to second me. Or disagree, or whatever. It was the first one I'd really come up with since he'd left (not counting little things like running to the store etc.).

We got outside and stood against our house. Our wings were stretched out, and we stood tip to tip, taking up the whole length of the house. Our visitors saw us, but continued forward until they were in a line in front of us.

The girl in the middle seemed to be the leader, standing directly in front of me. She was the tallest, but still several inches shorter than me. She had light brown, almost reddish hair and chestnut colored eyes, and her hands were on her hips. Just like me.

The next tallest were two girls, one with tangly brown hair and intense green eyes, and one with smooth blonde, styled hair and hazel eyes. The one with the wild hair looked older, and the other one was wearing an unnecessary amount of makeup and accessories.

The other two were boys, one a little bigger than the other. The taller one had matted-down dark hair, a round face, and light, playful eyes. The other one had curly caramel colored hair and wide blue eyes. He was staring right at Angel who watched him curiously.

Oh, and one other thing: each had a pair of pointed dog ears perched on their heads, and various sized, shaped, and colored tailed peaking out from behind them.