Save Me

Maturity: I plan on romance, and of couse we have some young men in here, so I estimate it to be high. xD
Fantasy: There's some magic, scientifically mutated peeps, and an evil government . . . wait, that part might not exactly be fantasy. ^^;

Note - I feel this isn't my best quality. xD I'm focusing at this point more on getting the story out. And . . . well, you'll understand this best if you've read Megatokyo and Maximum Ride, but that's not to say you won't otherwise. I'm trying to do a little explaining as I go along.

And, I never actually finished reading the normal version of MR - just the manga - so I'm not sure how legit that side of it is. ^^ The MC's kinda a mix of the MR bird-peeps and the MT ones. Which, for the record, aren't exactly from Megatokyo; it was an omake of it called Circuitry. Anyway . . . let's get to the story. xD

Pr0|_0gu3

----- You wanna know my name, huh?
----- Well, you’ve certainly got a lot of nerve. Maybe I won’t even tell you.
----- All right, fine. My name’s Stephanie. Happy?
----- Now, I bet you’re wondering why you’re even reading this book. A snappy little teenager, huh? She even wrote it? Well, that’s where you’re right. But trust me on this - you need to read this book.
----- You think the government is a group of nice people?
----- Well, you’re wrong.
----- You think that there’s nothing abnormal, save a couple of Siamese twins and radioactive frogs?
----- Wrong again.
----- See, maybe, if you’re lucky, you have a glimpse of the truth in your mind. You were overly imaginitive as a child, you’re one of those writers, you saw something odd . . . these things happen. The fact of the matter is, people like you aren’t really supposed to know. Most of you don’t. But some of you, those who’ve managed to get a foothold in another reality . . . well, you’ll believe me, if nobody else. You have to believe me. There’s no other way to keep us safe.
----- Have you read Maximum Ride? Never read the whole thing myself. It all moved too fast. But anyway . . . if you have, you’ll know what I’m talking about.
----- Those people at the School, they raised another bird-person, with the DNA of a bird mixed into their normal human genes. Nobody but them ever knew about it, because they were a lot more careful to not let it escape like Maximum Ride’s group. Tortured it . . . did a number of things. Things that won’t be mentioned, in case you’d like to actually keep your sanity.
----- Well, that experiment . . . it was me.
----- Turns out the people at the School are a bunch of idiots. I was able to escape, simply because a fellow with keys had been drinking too long and slummed out in front of my cage. That’s how I got free.
----- I didn’t stay long, of course, but there were a few things I thought it might be a good idea to take. For instance, a little tracking device. They’d started wearing these on their wrists . . . and they tracked not only us bird creatures, but each other. That just meant my quest would be a whole lot harder, if they could always tell where I was. But at least I would know when they were coming for me. Because, oh boy, little did I know how useful that would be.


Ch4p73r O|\|e

----- “Stephanie?” Mrs. Amalthea called from downstairs.
----- I groaned to myself, slowly raising my head from the pillow. I’d been sleeping so well, too, and had the most pleasant dream. My wings were gone, I’d never been captured by the School, and I could actually live my life free of fear. Free of this tracker . . . my lips pressed together as I raised the little watch-sized instrument to my eyes. I was safe, as usual. Why weren’t they coming after me? After all, they knew where I was . . .
----- “Coming!” I called with a small sigh, slipping out of bed and padding downstairs to breakfast.
----- Mrs. Amalthea . . . well, she’s a nice person. One of the few people who know about my wings and don’t want to hurt me because of them. I’d been staying with her for a few months now, and she was just . . . taking care of me, keeping me safe. But, most importantly, I wasn’t alone.
-----I hated being alone.
----- As I ate my pancakes, the sudden sound of screaming sirens became known to my ears. Off in the distance . . . I didn’t bother myself with it. I heard them all the time around here. Just as much as I didn’t care anymore when I smelled the smoke downstairs from anything Mrs. Amalthea had accidentally burnt, or as I didn’t care when somebody came too close to me. She’d helped me to feel safe. So I did feel safe.
----- The sirens were getting louder. They still hadn’t stopped. I froze, then grabbed the pancakes and crammed a bite into my mouth, simultaneously heading to the door and peeking out. It faced the street, so I had a clear view of absolutely everything.
----- As the sirens continued to come, I worriedly checked my tracker. Nobody but me . . . but suddenly I was having a very bad feeling abou this situation.
----- “. . . Mrs. Amalthea?” I asked, my stomach clenching as squad cars squealed into view.
----- She appeared slightly nervous now, too. Mrs. Amalthea glanced towards the window, then pulled the blinds shut with her meaty hands just as the cars pulled into our driveway.
----- That was all the cue I needed. Slamming the door closed, I raced upstairs. My room was in a secret place, hidden behind a door in the hallway. There was a way out . . . it was my only hope. I went in, slid the door shut, locked it, and bolted over to the latch that kept the little door to the outside closed.
----- I heard voices, coming from downstairs. Stern, angry . . . when I heard what they were asking Mrs. Amalthea, my breath caught. Hands shaking, I fumbled with the latch for a moment. When I finally was able to swing the panel open, relief came to me like a gust of air - until I saw what was waiting for me.
----- “Hello,” the Eraser’s dark voice chortled. Before I could react, his hands, chilled by the winter, had grabbed onto me and slammed me against the side of the house.
----- Instantly, my vision started to swim. I couldn’t even find my limbs to move them; there was just the throbbing all along my head and back. That was surely the desired effect, for when he saw how disoriented I’d become, the Eraser chuckled and tossed me into a makeshift cage of netting in the driveway. (I know I said I changed it, but I changed it back. ^^)
----- The snow below me, unshoveled as a result of the early hour, only amplified the pain I felt from being knocked around. “Hnnnnn,” I moaned, trying to get back to my feet, but I was still helpless. I could do nothing but watch, my heart’s pace amplified with fear, as the Eraser locked me in.
----- “Don’t get too comfortable,” he sneered, an action which flaunted the creature’s fangs. “Your ride is here.” He inclined his head towards the police cars. “They’ll be picking you up soon.” All I could do was stare in disbelief as he trudged away, leaving me sprawled in the snow under the net.
----- As it turned out, ‘soon’ was an understatement - a huge one. I could barely make anything out thanks to the closed door, but an hour went by, and still the angry voices were conversing with my guardian. The Eraser had gone . . . and with good reason. When I finally got my strength back, I tried to rip the net and free myself, but I couldn’t. No matter how hard I tried . . . the prison really hadn’t been a misestimate of my strength. I really wasn’t strong enough to free myself of it.
----- Finally, I had to give up. I sat in the snow, wings curled around myself to try and stop the shivering, and stared at my raw hands. I’d tried so hard to free myself that they were bleeding now . . . and stinging like [heaven], too. A sigh came from my throat, and I shuddered - though with cold or with despair, I wasn’t quite sure.
----- Tears had just begun to fall down my face when I heard a new set of voices. These were nothing like the police officers’ voices . . . they were younger, lighter, and significantly more urgent. Another difference was the location - they were coming from the neighbors’ yard. As hard as I looked, I couldn’t see anything from where I was; high rosebushes just beyond the fence shrouded anything else from view . . . but one thing was for certain, these definitely weren’t the neighbors. I’d never heard these voices before in my life.
----- “Go!” hissed one of the new voices. This one held a tremble; he was scared. I believed he was scared of some sort of mission, in fact, judging by the tone in which he’d spoken. But I didn’t realize how right I was until a few moments later.
----- “Fuzz, pr3p4r3 to b3 p\/\/nz0r3d,” came the response. No fear whatsoever was in this one, the shadier and more exited voice. It was hardly a second later before a serious character with red hair dove over the fence, somehow landing on his feet right beside the cage without hurting himself or making much noise. That was the first thing I noticed about him . . . he knew what he was doing, whatever that was. It impressed me. The second was his hair. Not only did the color stand out, but the style made a huge impression . . . it was the exact opposite of a mullet. Long in the front but short in the back, with the long hair flopping up into the air. An odd way of describing it, yes, but that was what it looked like. The young man was dressed casually, and would’ve appeared so as well if not for the focused expression, wielded dagger, and gun slung across his back.
----- I was utterly confused until he began hacking at my ropey prison with the knife. At that moment, I knew for sure that - whoever he and his hiding companion were - they were here to help me. “Who are you?” I whispered, my eyes widening with an awestruck shock.
----- He glanced towards the cars. My eyes followed his, and I was relieved enough to see that everyone was inside. Big mistake, cops. When my eyes returned to the man, I saw he had actually made a decent amount of progress . . . apparently the rope was difficult to cut, but there was already a hole nearly big enough to let me through.
----- “No time for that,” he at last said, rather curtly. “We shall explain once you’re free.” I noticed that his expression didn’t change a bit as he worked so desperately to free me . . . already I was intrigued by him. Though he seemed so obvious about himself, he had a sort of mystery about him . . . I wanted to know everything. Who was he? Why was he helping me? The one question I didn’t need to ask was if I could trust him - because, already, I did with all my being.
----- The cops’ voices seemed to be coming to a conclusion. My breath caught, and I clutched at the rope around the hole, ignoring the protesting of my hurt hands. “Hurry!” I pleaded in a whiper, my face filling with desperation. “Please!”
----- “Do not w0rry. I’m almost - done!” As he spoke the last word, he slashed through the final rope needed to get me out. “Come on!” One of his hands darted towards me, and I was quick to grab it and let him help me out from my prison, though I had to wince as his skin aggravated the rope burns on my hand. I could just fit through the gap when I folded my wings in; thanks to his help, I was uncaged within a second. It was a good thing, too, for at that moment the police had begun to make their way outside again.
----- “Hey, who are you? Get away from her!” one called, and the five of them rushed towards us.
----- My reaction was pretty late. It wasn’t until the man mumbled to me, “Now would be a good moment to flee,” that I actually made any attempt to get away.
----- “I’ll follow you,” I whispered, unfurling my wings and beating them to get into the sky. His expression seemed surprised for a moment, but it became solemn again by the time he nodded once at me. That changed again after a moment, though - suddenly a huge smirk was on his face. “Follow Piro. I’ll hold them off.”
----- Glancing towards the neighbors’ plants, I saw a long-haired blonde man with glasses. This one was gesturing frantically to me, so I nodded and flew towards him.
----- For some reason, I didn’t seem to be as strong as normal. Maybe something got seriously hurt when the Eraser slammed me around, but I didn’t really feel any pain . . . just, a little dizzy. But all I knew was that, suddenly, my wings had failed me and I crashed the short distance to the ground.
----- “Oh my [gosh]. Are you okay?” he murmured, grabbing me by the hand and pulling me back to my feet; he let go nearly the moment I was back up, glancing at my hands for some reason. He looked scared . . . but also, for someone who dressed as underconfidently as he did, strangely desperate.
----- “I think so,” I whispered, wrapping my arms around myself. Everything was so cold now. Suddenly the red-haired man shouted, “Ph33r my migh7y gun, fl3sh-347ing c0ps of d00m!” It was followed by a burst of rapid-fire shooting, and several yelps of pain.
----- “Come on - we have to get out of here. Will you be okay for a mile or so?”
----- Only a mile . . . I could do that. I’d trained myself to run for long distances or very quickly without getting tired . . . yes, I was already tired, but that’d surely at least help me get wherever we were going. So I nodded confidently, and we sprinted off, heading out through the neighbors’ driveway.
----- The short trip ended up being a lot harder than I’d expected. Even with my usual stamina, every step was harder than the last, and I collapsed more than once. My failing limbs only seemed to make the man even more desperate to get to where we were going. At last we were there, stumbling over the threshold of a decrepit house that I’d formerly thought was abandoned.
----- By this point, I had so little strength that the man - rather awkwardly on his part - was supporting most of my weight, me slumped against him and my arm around his shoulder. “Here, let’s get you some rest,” he mumbled, helping me over to a little cot near an unlit fireplace. I didn’t even have the strength anymore to react; I just accepted it. I would’ve fallen onto the mattress if not for the pair of arms that gently lowered me down.
----- Now that I was resting, I could feel the chill again. I realized that all the hair on my arms was raised, and as I brought my wings out to wrap them around me, the feathers were fluffed up as well. Shivering, I curled around myself.
----- “Hold on. I’ll get you a blanket,” the man murmured. His footsteps receded to somewhere in the building, rapid creaks across the ruined floor, and he returned to me after a few moments. My eyes were now closed, so I could only feel the sudden warmth of the blanket he laid over me; it was so much more relaxing. I loosened a little bit, not curled up so tightly now, and let myself just rest.
----- “Who are you?” I whispered. The words were a bit discoherant, but I think he understood.
----- “I’m Piro. The one back there-”
----- A noise like a door pounding against a wall interrupted Piro. “Behold!” A voice suddenly declared, the one of the redhead. “L33t m4573r Largo has returned.” Somebody sure had self-confidence. I guess he made up for what Piro lacked.
----- “. . . Well, that’s Largo,” Piro finally continued. I pried my eyes open to see what the two of them were doing at the moment.
----- Piro was sitting in front of me on a crate, watching me anxiously. I’d opened my eyes just in time to watch as he laid a hand against my forehead . . . a freezing cold hand. I flinched backwards instinctively.
----- “Sorry,” he mumbled. Largo came over to us then; he was back to his serious self, but now the seriousness was mixed with curiosity.
----- “How is she?”
----- “She has a fever-”
----- Largo broke Piro off again, hissing out a curse word with disgust. “You should know by now! Didn’t I tell you last time how deadly chills are to them?” He quickly went over to the fireplace. After fumbling for a few moments with the logs piled inside, he grabbed a box of matches off of the upper ledge and used it to light the whole thing. I was surprised at how quickly it caught, until I saw the jug of lighter fluid nearby.
----- With that, Largo came back over to us. “There. That should help her.”
----- “Thank you,” I murmured to both of them, forcing my eyes to keep open.
----- “You are welcome.”
----- “What he said,” Piro offered.
----- “But . . . why?” I had to ask.
----- “It’s . . . what we do,” Piro simply stated.


Ch4p73r T\/\/0

----- I couldn’t help but let my heart go out to this winged girl. The poor thing didn’t deserve this experience in the slightest . . . she was so young. All she wanted was to live a decent life, and she hadn’t been allowed to have that from the start.
----- As I set my empty mug, formerly filled with coffee, on the ground, I spoke to Largo. “She’s not like the other ones.”
----- Sorrow flashed through Largo’s face, and he turned away from me to face the fire. His hands were clasped tightly behind his back . . . he did seem tense. In fact, he’d been rather anxious since the moment the girl fell asleep. “No. She is not,” he affirmed, his voice betraying nothing.
----- I sighed quietly, and turned back to the girl. This topic was always hard to discuss with Largo . . . the topic of the ‘other.’ Unlike this one, their wings were smaller and incapable of letting them fly. But everything else seemed the same . . . especially how vulnerable they were to chills. I could see the girl shivering now, even as she slept surrounded by the blanket and her wings.
----- For Largo, though, ‘other’ wasn’t just one - he’d known two. The first one . . . he loved her. But he lost her, too . . . we lost both of them. Their winds came, and took them away from this life. Neither of us really understood what happened . . . all we knew was that the wind could snatch them away from living in a second. We had to be very careful.
----- Well . . . Largo hadn’t been the same since that happened. He behaved the same as usual . . . but every time he was reminded of Erika, I could see the pain in his eyes.
-----"Hey, ah . . . look, Largo, I'm sure there'll be others-"
-----"Like who?" he demanded, his voice suddenly strained. Largo turned around to face me, and there on his face was all the loss and despair he'd been hiding for the past five months. "Her? She's just a child." He forlornly cast a glance at the sleeping girl, then turned back to the flaring flames. "And she's not . . . her."
----- "Of course not her!" I exclaimed, stunned by the idea. I suddenly remembered the girl was sleeping, so when I continued, it was in a much quieter voice. "Not her. I'm just saying-"
-----"I will keep her safe from the government. I will do my best to keep the wind away from her. But that's all I can do."
-----"[beaver] it, Largo, that's not what I'm saying!" I hissed.
-----"Then what?"
-----Letting out a sigh, I cast a glance at the girl, then moved over to the bed. I gently pulled her hands out from under the blanket, examining the bandages I'd wrapped around her hands earlier. Good, they had stopped bleeding. As I returned her hands to their former position on the mattress, I spoke again. "Just . . . I know it hurts now. But you don't have to let this be the end of the world."
-----Silence.
-----I sighed. "Fine. I'm going to bed." I made my way down the hallway to my room and shut myself in.
-----It sucked when Largo let himself be in these moods. Sure, they were reasonable . . . after all, he'd lost Erika. She was dead. There couldn't be anything worse than that. But I didn't like knowing how Largo more and more often got so close to losing it altogether.

* * *

-----Perhaps Piro was right. Perhaps I could . . . forget . . .
-----No. My face twisted the moment I even considered it. That just wasn't an option. If I forgot Erika, what would I have?
-----My face smoothed over after a while, and I walked to the girl. Alarm instantly raced through my veins when I saw she was starting to shiver again. [beaver] it, those police officers should never have left her in the cold.
-----Wait - it appeared she wasn't asleep after all. Her eyes slid open, and she inspected me almost petulantly for a moment. But suddenly, her face softened, and she smiled at me. Just a bit.
-----"Are you cold?" I asked her. My tone was indifferent, but inside I was nearly as scared as I'd been to endure all those storms in the past. Each and every one of them had been terrible, like someone tore my middle into shreds . . . it was the oddest feeling. And all for the sake of Erika . . . was it even normal to feel like this?
-----Whether it was or not, I knew . . . I had to save this girl. Surely I could keep one alive? Just one? I had to keep her alive, whatever it took. And if I let another die . . . I just couldn't.
-----"Ehm . . ." She glanced away, relaxing to make her shivering less obvious. "A little bit."
-----Interesting. She didn't want to look weak, but she was willing to vocally admit it.
-----It was a moment before I reacted; this detail about her was surprising. "I'll be back in a moment," I told the girl, turning so I could hurry into my room. My hands ripped the blanket off my bed, and it didn't take long before I'd returned to the girl and laid it across her. I wouldn't be needing it anyway . . . wasn't planning on getting any sleep tonight.
-----"Thanks," she whispered. Her eyes widened slightly as they locked onto mine again; it made her look vulnerable, so vulnerable that I was nearly overwhelmed by the desire to do everything it took to keep her alive. How could I do anything else? Without our help, she wouldn’t make it more than a day.
-----“You are welcome.”
----- There was a moment of silence, the two of us examining each other.
----- “Do you have a name?” I finally asked her.
----- A small nod shook her hair. I was a little surprised to notice it was dark blue . . . I guess I hadn’t been paying attention earlier, when I found her in the cage. “I’m Stephanie.”
----- I nodded. Again, there was a silence, but this time Stephanie was the one who broke it.
-----She slowly looked away. “You and Piro . . . you helped others like me?”

* * *

----- Okay, so, I’d overheard their conversation a little bit. I was only assuming this person Largo had lost was another like myself . . . I knew for sure there were others that the whitecoats had changed, a group of six others, that had escaped or something. The whitecoats had spoken plenty about them. It would be so sad to learn even one was dead.
----- Largo slowly looked away from me, at last obscuring his face from view and staring at the fireplace. “Yes.”
----- That was all he said. Suddenly I felt horrible for having even brought it up . . . even without seeing his expression, I knew he must be feeling . . . just dead inside. I knew I would, too, if I were him.
----- “. . . What happened to her?” My voice was barely audible, so tentative was I to ask . . . but I really wanted to know.
----- He glanced back at me. Some of the moroseness was gone from his face, making way for a slightly more emotional expression. “There were two. One of them . . . Piro accidentally hurt. It started raining before we could bring her to shelter, and . . . blood, loss, pain, shock . . . and the cold of the rain that started before we could get her to shelter. Her winds took her by morning.”
----- The feathers on my still-extended wings fluffed up. I wasn’t sure what he was talking about with the winds, but it scared me. My response didn’t even feel normal . . . it was more like an underlying instinct, for I saw no logical reason to fear wind.
----- Largo must have noticed my confusion, for that’s when he paused to explain. “They weren’t exactly like you,” he noted. “They had smaller wings and couldn’t fly. But . . . you are the same, in a way. You all had wings in the first place. You all seem vulnerable to the cold. . . .”
----- He was right there. Something had gone wrong with me in . . . the School. Apparently I was supposed to have a better immune system, but they accidentally had weakened mine instead of strengthening it.
----- “. . . do you know what the winds mean?”
----- I slowly shook my head.
----- “Death. Your winds are your death.” His voice came out surprisingly strong, as if he was suddenly enfuriated about something.
----- “And the other one?” I whispered meekly, hoping to take the anger away. Even if it had to be replaced with sorrow, it was better than anger . . . anger led to violence. I’d been hurt plenty times just out of anger.
----- “Piro never knew her.” Now, Largo just sounded as if he could barely make his voice work. “Only I . . . I did everything I could. I tried to push the wind back. But, I couldn’t . . .” His voice choked, and he lowered his head. “She wouldn’t let me.”
----- “Did you love her?” I whispered.
----- Largo didn’t answer at first. For a moment I thought he was just going to ignore the quesiton, but at last he gave a reply.
----- “Yes.”
----- My heart instantly tightened. “I’m sorry,” I whispered. Now I was certain I should never have brought it up.
----- “Why?” he spat, his shoulders stiffening. “It had nothing to do with you. You have no reason to be sorry.”
----- Whimpering to myself, I huddled further into the blankets. As stupid as I knew it was, angry people frightened me. Neither Largo or I spoke another word, and I returned to my slumber, my heart aching for Largo. He must have been in so much pain.

* * *

----- Largo’s face echoed throughout my dreams. Not once did it bear the happy - if sadistically so - smirk that Largo had worn just before attacking the police. I was actually beginning to miss that expression, for every time, I saw a sad or infuriated one. Sometimes I saw a morose girl with long blonde hair . . . I didn’t know her in the slightest. It surprised me when I saw she had a pair of wings as well.
----- Eventually I woke up. It was the middle of the night still, probably an hour or two before morning. Largo was slumped on the floor where he’d been standing, now asleep, and the fire was nearly dead.
----- Stretching my arms and wings, I looked around. For a moment I thought it was the dreams that had waken me, but something was wrong.
----- I let myself out of bed, pulling the wings inside my back. Once they’d folded all the way in, squeezing like an accordion into two crevasses on either side of my spinal cord, I tiptoed over to Largo. Kneeling beside him, I tentatively placed my hands on one of his arms and shook him. “Largo?”
----- Instead of waking up, the man mumbled something in his sleep. “Just one more level . . . where’s my beer? I need to recharge . . . Piro, where’s that gun? Need to take out t3h z0mb13s.”
----- “Largo!” I tried again, shaking him a bit harder. My heart was beating faster with every passing second . . . something was very, very wrong, I just knew it.
----- Finally, he groggily opened his eyes. “Are the zombies attacking?”
----- I decided not to answer that. “Largo,” I whispered, my voice pitifully frightened. “Where’s Piro?” It’d probably be better to talk to him instead . . . Largo seemed drunk or something, so he might not make any sense.
----- Waking up a little more, Largo rose into a sitting position and blinked rapidly. “He left a few hours ago for supplies. I warned him not to go alone, to wait until we all could in case the undead armies decided to attack. But Piro would not listen. He went alone, and has not yet returned.”
----- My eyes went wide. “Are you sure he’s not back?!”
----- Largo nodded, his eyes narrowing. “I fear the zombies will overcome him if he does not return soon.”
----- Oh no. “Something is wrong,” I stated, clamping my arms around myself and eyeing my surroundings nervously. “I don’t know what. But it is.”
-----Instantly Largo was on his feet. He grabbed his gun, leaning by the fireplace, and inched his way over to the windows. As he peeked out, I suddenly could hear the noise of a helicopter chopping its way through the air to us. I froze with utter fear, and Largo swore.
----- “Largo?” I got out through my trembling lips, inching back towards my bed. As silly as it was, as much as I knew I had to fight or flee, I just wanted to hide beneath it right now. I could pretend there, at least, that these hunters were nothing but a bad dream.
----- He glanced over at me, and his deathly serious eyes suddenly softened. “Follow me,” he said, sprinting along the hallway I hadn’t been down. I scrambled to my feet and darted after him, feeling my wings tensing. I was practically expecting to have to use them.
----- Largo startled me by reaching back and grabbing my hand as we stopped. We were standing between three doors, one going straight on. Placing his other hand on the knob of that one, Largo turned back to face me. “Don’t let go of me. We’re going through areas where it’s easy to get lost. If you fly away they’ll catch you - your only choice right now is the ground. Understand?”
----- I nodded rapidly, my heart hammering. Here it was. Could I escape again, or would I be taken back to the School? I glanced down at the tracking device on my wrist, but noticed with disgust that once again I was the only one displayed on it. I rapidly undid the strap and tossed it to the ground . . . that had certainly helped me a lot.
----- “Ready?”
----- “Yes,” I whispered.
----- “Then GO!” Largo flung it open, and we raced out into the trees.
----- “STOP!” a voice suddenly boomed.

C|-|4P73R T|-|R33

----- No! I wanted to shout, but couldn’t do anything thanks to the duct tape they had across my mouth. And around my wrists. And my ankles. I wanted to scream at them to leave Largo and Stephanie alone, just to kill me and call it even. But all I could manage was kicking out with my legs at one of the guards.
----- He jumped back before I could even hit him. “Watch it,” he growled. The helicopter suddenly jolted, then was still. I assumed we were on the ground now.
----- The man holding the megaphone was still leaning out the window. “We have your friend. If you turn yourselves in, harm will not come to him or any other human.” Why not just say harm wouldn’t come to me and Largo? It was obvious that he was not even pretending to consider Stephanie. “If you do not, then we will harm him.”
----- Don’t do it! I was sure as [heaven] not going to let this mission fiail here before it’d barely begun. I could only hope Largo was thinking the same.

* * *

----- Largo and I were frozen in shock. “Largo . . . what do we do?” I whispered. I couldn’t just sit back and watch Piro die, when he had got me out of my previous mess. But if he didn’t, I would end up going back to the School . . .
----- “Wait,” he said, his voice sounding curiously strangled.
----- We couldn’t see the helicopter from here, but we did see it as they rounded the corner of the building with Piro. They’d handcuffed him with duct tape, and my legs twitched to race over and free him from the others. But Largo’s grip on my hand tightened, as if he knew what I was thinking, so I could only watch as they tied Largo to the helicopter.
----- “YOU HAVE TEN SECONDS,” the voice informed us. “COME TO THE HELICOPTER OR YOUR FRIEND DIES. ONE . . .”
----- Largo and I didn’t move, just watching and trying to make up our minds. When the voice made it to three, the two men who had brought Largo here rapidly made their way back to the helicopter.
----- “GO!” Piro suddenly shouted, his eyes fierce. “Largo, you can’t let them take her. She’s more important. Just go!”
----- “SIX . . .”
----- “But-”
----- “Just GO.”
----- It took us another second before we turned and raced into the trees as fast as we could go. They would never follow us here. After a few much quieter counts made their way to ten, we heard an alarming explosion.
----- I stopped, forcing Largo to as well, and turned around to look at the old house. The helicopter was soaring away, the cut end of a rope dangling from one of the blades on the bottom, and the entire house was up in flames.

Swwwweeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeet

Oh, Maximum Ride! Me likey.

Thank ye, Noah! ^^

xD Lol, I'm glad you're reading this, Amanda. You need to get acquainted with Largo.

Haven't I already met Jesus4Eternity?

Yessss, but she needs to get to know you!!

I see.

I read it because it said Maximum Ride. XD

Lol, yeah, I figured that much. xD

Psh. Fang is awesome, end of story. XD

Jasper's getting jealous of Fang... O.o

Oh dear. xD

If anything, this will be interesting. XD

Quite.

Speaking of which . . . I do sorta have more. xD But I haven't had a chance to even type it into Jake yet, so yah.

Add it, add it!

All right . . . lol, I can always get it on Jake with the flash drive, I guess. xD It'll be up shortly.

YUSH!!!! *waits patiently*

. . .

*gets bored of waiting patiently* I WANT MORE!


xD

I'm almost done. xD

It's up. xD And cut off rather terribly, thanks to me hurriedly getting out of the car when I realized we were home. Cus that's when I was writing it.

*goes to read*

Oh, awesome!

x3 Thank you.

Mehh, this story is turning out to be way more of a Circuitry fanfic than I intended. xD Largo is so depressed.

Well, I don't watch Megatokyo, but I think it's good.

I'm glad!

(You don't watch it, though; you read it. )

Added more. xD And I just realized that their weakness to being cold might actually not be MT or MR at all, but oh well. I like it, and I'mma keep it.

Read it when I get back from church.

Okay. :3

Oh, good! Like it.

Wow, I love it, Ado! It ties together perfectly with your dream. :3 Epic!