“Wait, Max.” Angel reached for my arm. “We have to join the others at the camp first.” She smiled faintly. “It’s just another few miles.”

Reluctantly I nodded, figuring “the others” were the rest of the flock, but when a clearing opened up in the woods, I saw rows and rows of makeshift tents made out of everything imaginable, from plastic tarps to blankets to flowered bedsheets. Between them, thousands of people went about their business. After seeing hardly anyone for so long, it really was a sight to behold.

“Where did they all come from?” I asked in awe, and Angel shrugged.

“All over.”

I had seriously underestimated her. And for once, that was a good thing.

“Look.” She pointed. “There’s the rest of the flock.”

I hadn’t let myself believe I’d see them again. Not fully. I’d already lost something so huge, having hope seemed like being a sucker asking to get burned.

But the sight of their faces cut through my shield, and I was shaking so hard I could barely steer myself to a landing. I hadn’t lost it all. Nudge, Iggy, Gazzy. Even Total—they were all here, waiting for me.

Alive.

75

THE FIRST POOR soul in my path of suffocating love was Nudge, and I tackled her, knocking her to the grass.

“Agh!” she said as I almost crushed her with the force of my embrace. Strangers stared at the bird girl acting like a lunatic attacker, but I didn’t care as long as I never had to let my little sister go again. Finally, I pulled her to her feet.

“Oh, Nudgelet,” I said with a shaky breath, “I’m so glad you’re okay.” Nudge’s eyes glistened.

“I missed you, too, Max.” The bite on her cheek had healed into a gnarly scar, but her brilliant smile made you hardly notice it.

“Don’t I get a hello?” Iggy asked from behind me.

“C’mere.” I yanked him into a fierce bear hug, squeezing tightly until he started coughing. Then I held him at arm’s length, looking him over.

“You scared the crap out of me!” I shouted, jabbing him in the chest.

“Whoa, take it easy!” Iggy put his hands up defensively.

“I thought you were dead!” I shoved him. “Do you have any idea what that does to a person? Do you?”

“It’s not my fault! Dylan spread the rumor!” Iggy protested, but now he was laughing as he blocked my jabs. “Besides,” he said, flashing a wry grin, “how much more do you love me now that I’m not dead?”

I rolled my eyes and mussed his shaggy blond hair in exasperation, but the truth? A lot more. Or at least I was a lot more appreciative of my weird, lovely little flock than I ever had been.