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Back Saving the World Save as PDF
Chapters (50)
  1. Prologue
  2. Part 1
  3. 1
  4. 2
  5. 3
  6. 4
  7. 5
  8. 6
  9. 7
  10. 8
  11. 9
  12. 10
  13. 11
  14. 12
  15. 13
  16. 14
  17. 15
  18. 16
  19. 17
  20. 18
  21. 19
  22. 20
  23. 21
  24. 22
  25. 23
  26. 24
  27. 25
  28. 26
  29. 27
  30. 28
  31. 29
  32. 30
  33. 31
  34. 32
  35. 33
  36. 34
  37. 35
  38. 36
  39. Part 2
  40. 37
  41. 38
  42. 39
  43. 40
  44. 41
  45. 42
  46. 43
  47. 44
  48. 45
  49. 46
  50. 47

What day was this? No clue. Would Dr. Martinez be at work?

I let my mind focus on this question in order to avoid the bigger, scarier question: Would they even want to see me again?

Or, nightmare: Had something bad happened to them because they’d sheltered me before?

Just like the first time, I stood frozen on the edge of their yard, unable to will myself forward, to knock on the door.

Max, began the Voice, and I answered it inside my head. You’re the one who said connections were important, I reminded it. Well, I’m here to make some connections. Deal with it.

“What the heck are we doing here?” Fang’s tone of mild curiosity meant that he was so stunned he was about to fall over.

I had no answer for him. I didn’t even have an answer for myself.

Then, just like the first time again, fate stepped in; or rather, Dr. Martinez stepped out of her front door. She blinked in the bright sun, then turned to lock the door behind her. Then she paused, as if listening, or sensing something: moi.

Behind me, Fang instinctively faded into the woods, where he would be invisible among the shadows.

Slowly Dr. Martinez turned, while I stood tense and almost quaking at the edge of her yard. Her deep brown eyes swept the area and flashed on me almost immediately. Then her mouth opened soundlessly. I made out the word “Max.”

25

25

Then Dr. Martinez and I were running toward each other, and it felt like it was all happening in slow motion. I had planned on a cool, casual “Yo? Wha’s happ’nin’?” But that dream was gone, gone, gone, baby. Instead I clung tightly to her, trying not to cry, taking a weird, deep, terrifying satisfaction from the sensation of her holding me.

Her hand stroked my hair as she whispered, “Max, Max, Max, you’ve come back.” Her voice sounded broken, and I didn’t trust myself to speak.

Then I remembered I was indulging in this revolting display of saccharine emotion right in front of Fang. Who would probably never let me hear the end of it. I turned and looked toward the woods. With my raptor vision, I could barely make out his dim outline.

I raised my hand to him, and Dr. Martinez’s gaze shot toward the woods.

“Max? Are you okay?” she asked, her eyes on the trees and shadows.

“Yes. I—I didn’t mean to come back,” I said hesitantly. “But—I...We were in the neighborhood....”

Dr. Martinez’s eyes widened when a stiff-faced Fang slowly emerged from the woods, as if a shadow had taken form and come to life. How’s that for a little bird-kid imagery, eh? The soul of a poet, that’s me!

“This is my...brother, Fang,” I muttered, stumbling over the word brother. Because he’d kissed me. And no southern jokes, please. Ick.