Max- Breaking Knee

  “DON’T STRUGGLE,” said the guy holding me — the “Russian Superman.” He had an act with huge rubber bands attached to his belt. He’d been jumping high and “flying” over the audience off and on all night. Now he pulled me way up to the top of the enormous tent, and the bands tightened so we were hovering there.

  The audience below was oohing and aahing at the lucky girl in the audience who got to fly with the Russian Superman. Spotlights were trained on us, and the audience was going crazy.

  “Who do you work for?” I growled, gauging my options.

  “This is for your own good,” he said, which was, in case you’re wondering, the wrong answer.

  Time to blow my cover as Ordinary Teenager. I raised one knee high, then smashed my foot backward as hard as I could, connecting with his kneecap, hearing it snap. The Russian Superman stifled a shriek, and his hold on me lessened just slightly.

  Slightly was enough. I jerked my arms out sideways, and his fingers scrabbled to keep me, without success. I started to drop, and people in the audience started to scream, waiting for the poor girl to go splat in the center ring.

  But of course it took only a second for me to pop out my wings, pushing downward hard so that I rose up before I’d even gotten close to the ground.

- Fang: A Maximum Ride Novel, chapter 54