Max- Developing Gills

  I drew in panicked breaths from the regulator, thrashing around, trying to kick backward, everything I could think of to break free.

  Reminder: One cannot build up a lot of power in water. One cannot jump up and kick something. One cannot use one’s weight effectively. One can only thrash around, pushing helplessly against gushy, squishy, stretchy tentacles, trying to pry them off of everything.

  One can also try to reach the eight-inch knife one has strapped to one’s thigh. Of course, I couldn’t get mine, because that was how this whole day had gone.

  And then it pulled my mask right off my face.

  Cold salty water splashed into my eyes, went up my nose. Meanwhile, the slimy beast pulled the regulator out of my mouth, almost yanking my teeth along with it as I tried to hold on. Now I had no air source.

  I pressed my lips together so I wouldn’t swallow the salt water. We mutant freaks have very efficient lungs and air sacs, but we do have to breathe. If I couldn’t breathe, I would drown, here in a dark cave, lost and alone.
...

  A couple more punches and the thing turned and fled into the darkness. Fang swam over to me quickly, seeing my air hose, my breath-holding face probably turning purple. John and Dr. Akana came over too, indicating which way led out of the cave.

  Then Fang’s eyes crinkled behind his mask: he was smiling.

  Smiling? I had, like, five seconds to go before my lungs exploded. Were my last thoughts as a living bird kid going to be, I thought you loved me, Fang, you freaking traitor?!

  Then he took my hand in his and gently ran his fingers along the sides of my neck.

  My eyes widened. I could just barely feel a steady stream of tiny bubbles brushing past my fingers. I did a systems check: Did I feel like I was about to pass out from lack of oxygen? Did my lungs feel like they were about to burst?

  Nah, not really.

  I grinned back at Fang.

  I had developed gills.
...

  I REMEMBERED how Angel had demonstrated this new talent — she sort of gulped in big mouthfuls of water, and they seemed to flow out her almost-invisible gills. I tried that, tentatively, fearing if I swallowed a bunch of salt water I would immediately gag.

  But there was some new mechanism in place, and though I gulped in water, it immediately shot back out again, not down my windpipe or my esophagus.

  It was so, so cool. Grinning, I unfastened my vest and let it and my tank drop below me into the depths. I felt so much better, lighter, and more maneuverable without it.

  Then I leaned closer to Fang, peering through the water at his neck, smooth and tan under my pruney fingers. I pulled back and smiled at him, nodding. He had the same stream of bubbles seeping out from the sides of his neck.

- MAX: A Maximum Ride Novel, chapters 63, 64 and 65