ALIBU WAS BUILT on cliffs next to the Pacific Ocean. There was a narrow strip of dark tan sand, then a thin row of houses, then the Pacific Coast Highway, then cliffs dotted with more houses. I have one word, people: earthquake. I mean, hello, San Andreas Fault? Those houses would be toast crumbs if the big one hit.

Dr. Gunther-Hagen’s house was overlooking the beach — I recognized it from the satellite photos Nudge had found. I held my breath and dropped down onto his terrace, hoping everyone around had their eyes glued to the hypnotic waves and the even more hypnotic all-girl beach volleyball competition taking place down on the sand.

The first thing I saw — well, after a quick sweep to check out security teams, cameras, razor wire, etc. — was Angel, lounging on a … lounger.

“Hi, Max,” she said, pushing her shades up onto her curls.

“I hope you’re wearing sunscreen,” I said. “You’re gonna have hella wrinkles by the time you’re ten.”

“Want some daiquiri?” she offered, pointing at a blender. “Is it traitor flavored?” I asked.

Angel sighed and sat up as the sliding glass doors opened. Dr. Hans Gunther-Hagen came out, dressed in a crisp white linen suit. He smiled and held out his hands to me.

“Maximum!” he said. “I’m so glad you’ve come to join us.”

“Whoa, let’s get one thing straight, Hansie,” I said, keeping a healthy distance from him. “I came here for answers. I’m not joining nobody.”

“That’s a double negative, Max,” Angel noted. If I was the one who had taught her grammar, I now regretted it.

“Max, please, sit down,” said Dr. G-H. He gestured to a patio chair. I crossed my arms over my chest and looked at him.

“What are you using Angel for?” I asked. “And what’s Fang got to do with it?”

“Max,” said Angel, “there isn’t much time left for the world as we know it. If we want to survive, we have to join Dr. Hans and work with him.”

“I’m going to take my chances surviving without him,” I told her. “Didn’t you read your Evil-Scientist Manual? I’m pretty sure this whole setup was mentioned on page seventy-eight.”

“You can’t joke about this, Max,” Angel said earnestly, and I refrained from pointing out that I just had. “You have your Voice, and I have mine. We have to listen to them.”

“I don’t know about your so-called Voice, Angel, but if it’s anything like mine, I can tell you this,” I said. “We can learn from them, if they don’t seem nuts, but we’re still supposed to be making our own decisions. Trust me on this.”

“Max, things are going to get bad very soon,” said Dr. Hans. “We’ll have to function in a world that we can barely imagine — a frightening and primitive one. But there’s still time to save yourself. You and the rest of the flock. It’s not too late.”

“Yeah, and all I have to do is divorce myself from any ethical standards whatsoever and jump onto the untrustworthy Control Freak bandwagon,” I said. “No, thanks.”

“All you have to do is let go of Fang,” said Dr. G-H. “Do that, and everyone else survives.”

I stared at him. “No can do, Hans. Nonnegotiable.”

“Are you saying you’d let Fang and the others die just because you’re being stubborn? Just because you won’t accept Dylan instead? Is he not a worthy suitor for our Maximum Ride? Tell me, Max: what’s wrong with him?”

Well. He had me there. “He’s too … clean?” I offered weakly.

Dr. Gunnie-Hunnie looked like a disappointed parent. “We worked very hard to make him just right for you, Max. You haven’t even let him get close enough to find out just how very … wonderful he could be for you.”

What was that supposed to mean?

I was quiet. Quiet some more. And all confused-like. “Well, it’s been swell. Gotta go.”

“Max, please,” said Angel. “Save yourself. Save the others. Please.”

“You have two seconds to get up and come with me,” I said to her. “But I’m leaving. If the world is about to come to an end, I want to spend my last days with my family.”

“I’m staying here,” Angel said sadly.

This was it? I was really losing her? Forever?

It was a strangely mucked-up feeling. It seemed like yesterday that I was cuddling her when she was upset during thunderstorms. It was also just days ago when she was holding a gun on me. I didn’t know who she was anymore. But I hoped that my old Angel was still inside there somewhere, and that she would break free of whatever forces had taken her over.

I swallowed and nodded.

“Max, I could keep you here by force,” said Dr. God, steel in his voice. He nodded, and suddenly four armed guards stepped out of nowhere and pointed guns at me. Angel bit her lip. Quelle surprise.

I made a face at him. “Yeah, but what’s the fun of that? Later. Enjoy the apocalypse.” Then I ran across the terrace, jumped over the edge, and threw myself off the cliff. No bullets zinged past me. My flock was waiting.