Maximum Ride Chapters 41 & 42

‘Hello and welcome to Hack Writers Anonymous. We have a new member in the group who needs our help. Why don’t you introduce yourself?’ ‘Hi, I’m Jimmy and I’m a shitty writer.’ ‘Hi Jimmy.’ ‘Jimmy, we try to use less threatening words in the circle. Now why don’t you start by telling us a little about your problem?’ ‘Well, I dump exposition on the reader, my characters are flat and lifeless and I try to stay away from the cliché bucket but…’ ‘Go ahead Jim, we’re all friends here.’ ‘I’m…I’m addicted to clichés.’ Soft sobbing. ‘Good, let it out.’ ‘I mean, I don’t really know how to write.  I just sort of grasp at other people’s ideas and beat them until even their own mother wouldn’t recognize them.’

Max is talking at us again and Vet, who gets no proper name for being so retarded, is asking Max if she’s sure she doesn’t need help. Max says, nah, it’s cool. Sure she needs to meet up with some friends far away but she can walk for a bit if need be.

Vet says Max needs an X-Ray though to be sure that…I’m not sure actually. Vet just says Max needs and X-Ray. Yeah, fine. This means it’s off to the veterinarian’s office to administer an X-Ray. Surely no one will notice when a X-Ray plate or two comes up short during inventory. They’re suddenly, with no transition amazingly, at the office with Vet pretending to take Max on a tour of the office.

Why in the hell it Vet doing this? Because Max just looks like a wonderful person? Let me pitch you a scenario. Someone shows up on your doorstep and needs your help. You are a doctor and they have a gunshot wound. Do you call the police because there’s something weird going on or ask no questions, treat the stranger and send them on their way, certain that they didn’t kill someone who injured them before dying gruesomely? If you picked the latter option then you have just qualified to be a supporting character in a Patterson novel.

Vet leads Max around the office and she has a panic attack because there’s a guy there wearing a white coat. Okay Jimmy, you really need to use clarifying terms. See, white coat gets the idea across but you should really say lab coat. See, otherwise Max and the rest could have grown up terrorized by a barbershop quartet for all we know, just as long as they wore white coats.

Jimmy spends more time describing the X-Ray process than he does Max. Good to know your priorities are square. Then Vet reviews the X-Ray and starts commenting on how Max’s bones are light and pretty but they’re not broken. Max has muscle tissue damage but that’s okay, she’s regenerating at a surprising rate. Damn, if only I could predict lottery number like I do pathetic twists I wouldn’t be punching this up at work.

Then Vet notices something square in Max’s forearm. Anyone want to guess what it is? Oh c’mon, Jimmy. Does it have to be square? Of course it does, because that’s what microchips always look like. Microchips are just smaller versions of CPUs, right?

“It’s a microchip,” she said hesitantly. “We put something similar into animals. To identify them in
case they’re lost. Yours looks like a, like ones we use on really expensive pets, show dogs and such. They have a tracer in them in case they’re stolen. They can be tracked, wherever they are.”

Oh really? Because most chips are encased in pill shaped enclosure  that sits comfortably in the dermis. See, something sharp, say something square with pointed corners, would dig at surrounding flesh and cause cysts and irritation. At least is makes sense that this secret organization would use pet chips to track Max and the rest. After all, they barely have the budget to afford Pet Taxis after all.

The next chapter continues with Max, because she’s just so interesting. Max panics, Vet says that might not be what it is that it just looks like it and them Max wants it out. Vet, being lazier than a senator, says that it looks like it was put in when Max was smaller and now her muscles, nerves and blood vessels have grown around it. Guess she can’t cut it out then, oh darn.

All of a sudden Max hears people speaking and they’re talking smooth. Ah yes, the honey tongued villains. Because good guys are always stuttering, monotone, lisping idiots who mumble. Bad guys get to practice their elocution while their chauffer drives them over to the animal shelter for their weekly puppy kicking practice.

Vet tells Max to get in the closet with Tom Cruise, go ahead and elbow John Travolta out of the way if she needs to. Then Max can hear the guys speaking with Vet.

“Sorry, ma’am,” one voice said, sounding as if it were made of honey. My heart began to pound.

“Doctor!” she snapped.

Is it Doctor or Dr. today? It’s so hard to keep track of the retardation. Blah blah blah, they ask about anything unusual, Vet is a smartass about it which is always a sure way to placate curious men in suits. She befuddles them by talking about treating animals and throwing in a big medical term, bicornuate uterus, which causes them to stutter. Then she says that she’s busy trying to run a business, one with no active patients, and sends them towards the door. They give her a card with a number on it and ask her to call it if she sees anything unusual. Oh, and for good measure she tell the receptionist to call the police if they come back. Nothing we haven’t seen in a million other books, movies or video games.

Now, personally, if I were one of the bad guys I would have a photo of Max and concoct a story about her robbing people. Say she lands on cars, causes them to wreck and steals what she finds inside before medical help can arrive. I’d even have a grainy photo of one of the kids in flight and say that it was captured by a surveillance camera. Then offer a look as some nasty accident photos in a folder along with some reports. That’d probably be enough to put some doubt in Vet’s mind.

Anywho, Vet comes back and asks Max if they’re bad news, Max says yes and wants to leave now. Vet says no because she needs at least another day to heal up. It’s a good thing Vet can accurately calculate Max’s healing factor after spending a couple of hours with her. I guess that’s why she’s the Dr.

She shook her head. “Tomorrow morning is soon enough. One more night of rest. Promise me.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but what came out was “Okay. I promise.”

Yay!  A whole other day that Max get’s to sleep in a warm bed and eat full meals! I’m sure Angel is probably alive and not dissected or anything. Sleep easy Max and try to dream of unicorns, butterflies and not getting electrocuted in a maze.