Lol Cassie with the random NPR mention.
I mean I love NPR now in my adult years but I sure as hell never knew about it as a 90s teen. That feels like a weirdly deep cut for high schoolers.
Blood!
So close!
Find the prey. Kill the prey!
I powered my tail, swam rapidly toward the overpowering smell. Sharks can smell one drop of blood in a vast ocean reeking with life. But this smell! So rich, so strong.
I turned tightly. Poked my strange head into a tight opening and pushed through.
A narrow space. A few inches on one side. A few inches on the other. The shark didn't care.
Sharks have no fear. And the smell! So much blood!
I swam with the current, crossing frantically from one side of the confining space to the other.
The prey - where was it? I was confused. I should see the prey silhouetted against the sunlight above.
But there was no sunlight. And the blood was everywhere!
Imagine a drug addict awash in a sea of drugs.
Ax anywhere near a Cinnabon.
The prey is here! the shark brain shouted. It's everywhere! But ... where? The shark could hear a low thump, thump. The stomach gurgling. It could see walls sloping above, sloping below. Contracting and expanding ever so slightly.
The shark could sense the electricity given off by other living things. Could sense a strong, surrounding hum. And four more weaker pulses.
I twisted my head, spinning my entire body in the process.
There!
A shark surrounded by, immersed in, blood!
Prey.
I attacked!
Lunged with my huge mouth open. Clamped down, tore with my teeth, tossed my head.
<Aaaaahhhh!> something cried in my head. <Who's biting me? Geez, a chunk of my tail is gone! Hey, I was using that!>
That voice - it sounded familiar. Jake. Jake! I'd attacked him!
Suddenly, I remembered who I was. Rachel. I struggled against the shark brain. Fought to regain control. Tobias had warned us. Stupidly, arrogantly, I'd thought he was being overly cautious.
I'd been wrong.
<Jake, you okay?> I asked. <I - I lost control.>
<Yeah, I'm okay. I'm having a hard time calming the shark's mind, too,> Jake said. <The blood is driving it crazy.>
<Cassie? Tobias? Ax? You guys in the driver's seat?>
<I'm cool,> Tobias said.
<I am in control.> Ax.
<We need to focus on something else,> Cassie said tensely. <Keep our own, human minds alert.>
We swam on. First Jake. Then Cassie, Ax, Tobias, and me. Concentrating on the goal - stop the Helmacrons - to avoid eating one another alive.
The current dragged us along the narrow tunnel of blood. A tunnel not completely dark, but extremely dim.
Globs of stuff floated along next to us. Brushed off the tunnel walls, bounced off our shark
bodies. Some were rod-shaped and about the size of grapefruit. Others, just shapeless pieces of material. Still others, fuzzy balls, like Ping-Pong balls stuck all over with cotton.
<What's wrong with Marco's blood?> I asked. <It's not red.>
<You're seeing plasma,> Cassie explained. <Blood only looks red because it contains so many red blood cells.>
<Oh.>
<Hey, check it out,> Cassie said. <Those are red blood cells! The dark red ones pressing up against our gills. About the size of a serving platter. Somehow we're capturing the oxygen molecules without sucking in the blood cells.>
I'm not much of a sightseer. Generally, sightseeing puts me in a tedium-induced rage. This was different.
I was happy to be a tourist, especially if it would keep me from going cannibal. Besides, how many suburban girls get to travel down a human vein as a tiny hammerhead shark?
Disney has nothing on the Animorphs.
Red blood cell. Red blood cell. Red blood cell. After I'd seen a few thousand, I stopped paying attention to them and started to focus on the other floating shapes.
<What was that?> I demanded.
Something seriously small passed in front of my eyes. To the sub-mini shark, it was about the size and shape of a pill bug. A pill bug with little spikes covering it. A 3-D millipede.
<What?> Cassie asked eagerly.
The thing looked out of place. Sharp and pointed in a world where everything else was soft and oval.
<Something strange.>
<All sorts of stuff travels in the blood,> Cassie said. <Food particles. Waste. Hormones.>
<Hormones?> Jake interrupted. <We're swimming in hormones?>
Again, I spotted the spiny thing. It wasn't just bumping along in the current. It seemed to have a purpose. A mind or a will. I watched as it brushed up against a red blood cell, probed it, then bounced away.
I'm not big on superstition or New Age crap. Don't read my horoscope. Never had my fortune told. But I had a feeling about that spiky thing. Some primitive, instinctual part of my human brain didn't like it.
<Rachel?> Tobias called. <Come on. You're falling behind.>
I powered my tail and caught up. <There's a branch up ahead,> Jake said.
<Listen!> Cassie. <I think I can hear the Helmacrons.>
<So they aren't dead,> Jake said grimly.
<Arrrrrgggghhhh!> The pill bug from hell! It was on my morph. Probing me! <Get it off!> I yelled.
<What?> Tobias asked.
<Pay attention! Small spiky vitamin pills. I think they could be dangerous!>
<I see one,> Ax said. <Now it is gone.>
<What happened?>
<A large translucent blob surrounded and consumed it,> Ax explained.
<I saw it, too,> Jake said. <Blob ate it like Pac Man.>
Silence.
Then Cassie began to laugh.
<What's so funny?> I said shakily.
<This is amazing,> Cassie said. <Ax and Jake just saw Marco's immune system fight off an invader. That Pac Man was a white blood cell.>
<So, the spiky thing?> I asked.
<A bacterium or a virus,> Cassie said.
<What kind?>
<How should I know?> Cassie replied. <The important thing is that Marco's immune system is working.>
Oh, yeah. That's the important thing.
We continued down the tunnel that was Marco's vein. When we reached the branch Jake had pointed out, we followed the bloodstream into a wider tunnel.
The Helmacrons' voices were growing slightly louder.
Then, suddenly -
Dead end!
The vein just ... stopped.
We had stumbled into a fun house. Tunnels opened all around us, in every direction. Above the shark's head, below its belly. Each one seemed to be a different size and shape. Some big enough for us to pass through. Some far too small.
The current had also stopped. I turned the hammerhead to the right and swam in a small circle. Hovering without progressing.
<Any idea which way we should go?> Jake asked.
<I'm thinking,> Cassie said.
The blood cells and miscellaneous blobs that had been washing along beside us were still with us, but no more joined them.
<Where does human blood travel after it leaves the stomach?> Ax asked calmly, almost conversationally.
<That's what I'm trying to remember!> Cassie answered.
<Are not these basic facts about your own physiology taught in human schools?> Ax said. <On the Andalite home world, the youngest child is able to ->
<Ax. Would you please shut up?> I said.
Bump.
Tobias, knocking up against me. <And spread out, you guys!>
<Touchy, touchy.>
<Don't you feel it?> Tobias asked. <The ... uneasiness.>
I bumped into Jake. Turned to the right, swam in another tight circle.
<The hammerhead mind is uneasy,> Ax agreed.
The shark sensed danger. Not fear. Sharks have no understanding of fear. The shark was calm, confident. But it sensed some sort of change in the liquid surrounding us and it wanted to get out.
Maybe this is how sharks feel swimming in polluted ocean waters. I don't know. The shark's mind didn't offer any explanation. It just said: Haul butt. Now.
I clamped down on the shark's mind. Now wasn't the time to panic.
<Acid?> Ax asked.
I tuned into the shark's skin. But there was no pain. Just a dim sort of tingle that wasn't unpleasant. Nothing like the all-out agony of being in the stomach's violent digestive juices.
<I don't think we ->
<Look,> Tobias interrupted. <The globs.>
One right in front of me. It wasn't any particular shape or color. A fat molecule? A tiny bit of adrenaline? No way of knowing. And then ...
<It exploded!> I exclaimed.
As if a bomb had gone off inside, the glob silently broke into a thousand pieces.
<Watch one of the rod-shaped things,> Cassie said.
I twisted my hammerhead and turned in another tight, right-hand circle. Noted a rod-shaped thing a few inches off to my right. And, then, suddenly, it was round and slightly green.
<Presto chango,> Jake said.
<Something is transforming the cellular structure of the molecules around us,> Ax said.
<I think we're in some kind of sorting device. Look. The round blobs go into that tunnel, there. But the rod-shaped ones go up there.>
Weird, but true. Some of the molecules were lining up for the girls' bathroom; others, for the boys'.
I bumped up against Ax. <Sorry,> I muttered. Turned to the right to swim out of his way. To the right.
Again.
<Okay,> I said. <I am seriously drawn to a particular tunnel.>
<Yeah, me, too,> said Tobias.
<The shark is definitely compelled.> Ax.
<It's like Rachel at a fifty-percent-off sale at The Gap,> Cassie said. <Resistance is futile. Oh. I think I know where we are.>
<And that would be ->
<In the liver.>
<What is a liver?> Ax asked.
<An organ. The part of the human body that filters out impurities,> Cassie explained. Assuming the liver thinks we're impurities - and it must - it's pushing us into the colon.>
Suddenly, the current felt stronger. Maybe I was just more aware of it. <The colon? You mean, we're going to be waste?>
<Product,> Cassie confirmed.
<Thanks a lot, Marco
<If we are expelled, we will not reach the heart.> Ax, calmly stating the obvious as only Ax can.
<We've got to swim,> Jake said.
<Fine,> I agreed. <But which way?>
<Toward the heart,> Cassie said.
<Which is -?> I asked.
<Above the liver,> Cassie said.
<Who said you were directionally challenged?>
About a dozen tunnels went up to the left and up to the right. One tunnel seemed to go straight up.
<Eenie, meenie, minie, moe?> Ax said.
<You really have been on Earth too long,> I told him. <You'll never fit in on the Andalite home world now.>
<I would miss Saturday morning cartoons,> Ax said.
Thump, thump.
And then ...
Click! My brain made one of those sudden leaps. Like two puzzle pieces falling together.
<Marco's heart!>
Thump, thump.
Thump, thump.
Louder. Coming from all directions at once.
<Can we follow the sound?>
<I can't tell exactly where it's coming from,> Jake said.
<Think,> Cassie said. <What would the liver send to the heart?>
<Blood,> I said.
<Great. Follow that red blood cell!>
Honestly, Marco having to track down the person who may have taken a picture of them morphing and get the camera back is a stronger plot. Stretch that out, add some complications, some backstory for the person who's camera it is, and a reason they can't just morph in and do a home invasion, and there's a book right there.
Lol Cassie with the random NPR mention.
I mean I love NPR now in my adult years but I sure as hell never knew about it as a 90s teen. That feels like a weirdly deep cut for high schoolers.
Cassie absolutely lives in an NPR household
<Eenie, meenie, minie, moe?> Ax said.
<You really have been on Earth too long,> I told him. <You'll never fit in on the Andalite home world now.>
<I would miss Saturday morning cartoons,> Ax said.
When I finally got home from my pathetic attempt at breaking and entering, I put on a longsleeved sweatshirt. Couldn't let Dad see my wrist. Didn't want him to know I'd been trying to rob some kid when his deranged dog took a chunk out of me.
I dabbed some hydrogen peroxide on the puncture marks. Added a little Neosporin. Wished for ibuprofen. My whole arm throbbed.
But so what?
A little dog bite wasn't going to kill me. The Helmacrons had that under control.
In a way, I welcomed the pain. It reminded me I was alive. For now.
The afternoon dragged on. And I had no idea what was going on inside me.
Hours passed and all I heard from my friends were occasional strange orders.
Don't sneeze.
Don't eat or drink anything.
I wanted to tell them to include me in their thought-speak. Maybe. I mean, did I really want to know what a group of morphing warriors and egomaniacal lunatics were doing to my delicate internal tissues?
I contacted Mr. King. Had the Chee show up for dinner as Jake, Rachel, and Cassie.
Dinner.
I told my dad I was sick.
Just after the sun went down, I fell asleep, sprawled across my bed. About an hour later I woke up feeling weird. Sweaty. Wild. Angry.
Angry ... at the Helmacrons! It wasn't fair that I couldn't protect myself. Stupid freakin' ... The usual hang and chill routine was not going to happen. I was way too restless. Needed to do something. Got up and started to pace. Door to windows. Windows to door. Back. Forth.
And the anger continued to grow. Welled and surged and wouldn't be held in check by my usual habit of black humor, transforming tragedy into comedy. There wasn't one joke in me.
Maybe I just missed my audience.
Anyway, I was in an exceptionally foul mood.
A soft knock at the door. It opened. My dad stuck his head in. "Marco, hey, I thought I heard you moving around. How are you feeling?"
"Um, fine."
Dad pursed his lips. Came in and put a hand against my cheek. "You're flushed. And you feel a bit hot."
I turned away. "I said I was fine!"
"Okay, okay." He was taken aback by my reaction. "Well, if you're feeling better ... Nora and I have that dinner party. It's a work thing. If you don't need me to stay with you."
I immediately saw the opportunity. "Go," I said soothingly. "I'm just going to rest. Read that book for English."
He probably didn't buy that last part, but he headed for the door.
"Okay," he said. "Well, I'll leave the number on the refrigerator. Give us a call if you start to feel worse."
"I'll be fine," I said again, through suddenly clenched teeth.
Dad left.
Ten minutes later I heard the car pull out of the driveway.
I waited another couple of minutes. Then I went down to the basement. Rooted around in the freezer until I found a steak. Upstairs in the kitchen, nuked it until it was defrosted and warm. Then I got my bike out of the garage.
I was going to get the camera.
So what if I couldn't morph? So what if my friends couldn't help me? So what if Cujo had practically ripped my arm off?
That camera was mine.
The ratty-looking Chee was still on guard. That meant that the camera, if not the kid, was still inside.
For about half a second I wondered if I should ask for his help. Maybe he could throw a holo around me, make it easier to sneak into the apartment.
Rejected the idea. It would probably violate the Chee's code of nonviolence. What a joke. I could do this alone.
The kid's apartment building looked even more decrepit at night. But I felt no fear. I walked straight over the fence and across the concrete lot to the fire escape. It was still hanging down the way I'd left it. I charged up.
Cujo was waiting.
"Rrrrrrr!" He growled deep in his throat when he saw me on the fire escape.
Then he flung himself madly against the window. Totally airborne. Toenails clicking on the wooden sill. Drool flying. Teeth gleaming.
I grabbed the bottom of the rickety window and yanked it up about halfway.
"ArfARFARFARFARFARF!" Cujo's snapping jaws were inches from my throat.
"Stuff it," I said, tossing the steak into the room.
He lay down with it between his paws. Licked. Slobbered. Seemed to be having a hard time eating it. Something was wrong with his jaw. Maybe he'd lost a tooth gnawing my arm off.
I heaved the window open farther. Dropped down onto the floor and eased around the slavering dog. The camera was a few feet away, still sitting on the kid's desk.
I'd just closed my fingers on the bright yellow box when I heard voices in the hallway, surprisingly close.
Cujo heard them, too. He rose to his feet and growled at me. Blocking my only exit.
Door. People. Cops. Juvie hall.
Window. Cujo.
Two options.
Both bad.
Either way, I was going to get caught.
Thump, thump.
Pause.
Thump, thump.
As we swam the beating grew louder and louder, until it was impossible to hear anything else. Impossible to know if the Helmacrons were near.
Ax didn't ask questions. Tobias didn't make any dark observations. Jake didn't talk strategy. Cassie didn't point out landmarks.
We were overwhelmed by the incredible reverberating noise surrounding us. The sound of Marco's heart beating.
THUMP! THUMP!
Pause.
THUMP! THUMP!
Each beat vibrated through my body, overpowering any human thought or emotion. We didn't have a plan for capturing the Helmacrons. I didn't try to think of one.
Closer. Closer. Thump, thump. The sound became so intense I felt it would blow me apart. But it was a wonderful sound. As long as we experienced that thump, thump Marco was still alive.
The red blood cells we were chasing had changed color. They were darker now, maroon, the color of a scab. Cassie didn't need to explain what was happening. I'd read the Magic School Bus, too.
Close to the heart, the level of oxygen in the blood cells was low. The cells would pass through the heart and then into the lungs to pick up more oxygen.
Less oxygen in the blood cells meant less oxygen for the sharks. But we couldn't turn back. We had to stop the Helmacrons from killing Marco. Do or die.
The vein through which we were traveling grew larger. Other veins emptied into it and the current picked up. This time, it was like moving from a small street to a larger road to a busy thruway.
And finally, to a six-lane superhighway.
Ahead was a sort of aperture of flesh. As the current swept us along, it opened wider, wider. Fluttering in front of the opening were three red sheets of flesh. They moved like curtains blowing in an open window. Like those felt strips at the beginning of a car wash. As the valve widened, they
blew inside.
The current was smooth but powerful. The heart was sucking us in.
Closer ...
Closer ...
Closer! Then -
SLLLUMP!
The aperture closed. The curtains of flesh sealed together with a wet, sucking noise. We slowed, stopped. We were in a vast opening just outside the heart, surrounded by an ocean of blood.
<That's okay!> Cassie said. <That valve must be to keep the blood from flowing back this direction.>
THUMP!
<How are we going to stay inside the heart? How are we going to stop ourselves from being swept out into the lungs?> Tobias called. <I'm not sure we can fight this current!>
<We don't know if the Helmacrons can, either. Just be ready to fight!> Jake shouted. Assuming the Helmacrons are inside the heart now!>
THUMP!
The valve began to open. The curtains began to billow in.
Then - we flowed into the first chamber of the heart.
Things happened fast.
<Turn around!> I shouted. <Swim against the current!>
Furious turbulence! Blood was flowing past so fast I could hardly suck in any oxygen. Imagine swimming up Niagara Falls. And the walls were contracting like a trash compactor!
<Obey me, foolish male! Dracon beams will only fire in liquid if you increase the power to full!>
<I grow weary of your meddling, female! I will blast on low if I choose!>
<The Helmacrons!> Tobias shouted.
<Where are they?> Cassie yelled.
<Jake, they can't shoot!> I hissed.
<Stop!> Jake cried in general thought-speak. <Put down your weapons and we will help you out of here. We will even let you use the power source.>
<Hah-HAH!> one of the Helmacrons shouted. <Too late! We shoot on my count! One!>
I couldn't see the Helmacrons. But I could smell them. Somewhere in the heart. Five of them.
Maybe tangled in one of the tissue sprays that connected the walls like chaotic gothic arches. Maybe bobbing in the thrashing ocean of blood.
I didn't know.
I didn't care.
And I didn't care what had happened to the other four Helmacrons. Maybe the liver had taken them. Maybe they had been washed away by the last heartbeat.
The Helmacrons were enormous compared to my shark morph. And armed. But I was going to stop them from shooting if it was the last thing I did. All of these thoughts passed in about one second.
I turned my flattened rudder of a head and began to swim. The excellent shark sense of smell told me one of the Helmacrons was to my left.
<Prince Jake, we have to stop them now!>
<Go!> Jake shouted. <Now!>
Powering through a forest of tissue strands, an ocean of blood. Hunting for the Helmacrons!
Tissue!
Turn - left!
<Two!> the Helmacron shouted.
No!
Frantically I fought the current. Pushed and strained with my tail, my flippers. Struggled for every paltry inch.
And meanwhile, the walls around me closed in as Marco's heart prepared to beat.
Tissue!
Turn - another left!
Push, push, push!
The shark was exhausted. And the Helmacron smell was only the faintest bit stronger.
THUMP!
The first part of Marco's heartbeat.
The heartbeat that might be his last.
What's wrong with Buster?" A voice, just outside the door. Female. Maybe the photographer's mother, sister, aunt.
Buster?
Oh, come on. This dog was no Buster.
Bruiser, maybe. Fang, Killer, Psycho. But not Buster.
Buster's bloodshot eyes were on me. Blocking the window. My only escape.
I could hide under the bed. Except the metal frame was only about six inches off the ground. No way.
The door handle turned.
I jumped for the closet and crashed into the flimsy sliding doors. Great. The woman in the hall had to hear that. Too late to run. What the heck had I been thinking!
I closed the doors behind me, scooted down onto a pile of sweaty-smelling clothes, backed toward the corner.
"ARFARFARFARFARF!"
Whooosh! Buster's head was a wedge, shoving open one of the sliding doors. He bounded into the closet and went for my ankle.
"Rrrrooo - ARFARFARFARFARF!"
A strange rage filled me. I lifted the shoe.
A very low voice in my head said: Dangerous dog. Be afraid.
No.
"Buster! Good dog!"
Buster turned toward the sound of his master. A split second hesitation before biting off my head. That gave me just long enough to decide.
Morph - or get caught.
Morph - or get chewed up like a Milk-Bone.
Yeah, I'd promised Jake I wouldn't morph. But I hadn't heard from my so-called friends in hours and hours. For all I knew they could be dead.
A little voice in my head, that intangible but incredibly annoying thing called a conscience, was concerned. Marco, it said, can't you see something is wrong with you? With what you're doing? Where's your compassion? It's just a dumb dog, doing what he's supposed to do. And your friends, their lives are valuable.
Roach, I answered.
I felt the changes begin at the same time I heard footsteps crossing the room.
Each morph is different. I'd gone roach plenty of times before. But each experience is completely unique.
This time, my skin hardened first.
Then, vision pixilated. Compound roach eyes, with about two thousand lenses, ballooned up out of my eye sockets.
Two thousand Busters.
Two thousand sets of snapping teeth.
Four legs exploded out of my sides and I fell forward. My arms fused to my sides, then reemerged as delicate wings.
Buster tilted his head and moaned as I shrank down to the size of a quarter.
Don't eat me, I warned him silently. I have enough problems already.
My antennae twitched as the roach's amazing sense of smell surged to life. Roaches can smell anything. The closet smelled of sweat and dog pee and laundry detergent.
Buster took a step back and moaned again.
The closet door burst open.
"Oh - sick!" someone yelled. "I'm going to sue that filthy landlord! Honey, bring a shoe! I just caught the world's biggest roach!"
Then came the change I had been waiting for.
With a sickening lurch, my innards began to twist and change.
<Aaaaahhhhhhhh!> someone yelled in my head.
<Marco is morphing!> Cassie shouted. <Something must be wrong! Marco must be in trouble!>
Ah, so now I could hear them all. Must be in morph.
<We do not know how this will affect us,> Ax said unnecessarily. <It could be deadly.>
<Marco, cut it out, now!> Rachel screamed.
<That's an order!> Jake shouted.
My friends were still alive.
And they sounded terrified.
Good for them.
An inch.
One more inch and a Helmacron would be down to three legs. I pumped my tail hard. Opened my mouth to bite. Then -
THUMP!
I was yanked away from the Helmacron. Spun, head over tail. Another aperture - this one on the opposite side of the chamber - rapidly opened. It grew from a crack, to a hole, to a chasm.
Blood started to flow out of the chamber, sweeping all of us along with it.
<Are the Helmacrons being washed out, too?> Jake shouted.
<I can't tell!> I answered.
<Try to stay inside!>
I strained. Tried with every cell to resist the sucking of the current. And still I lost ground.
<I am unable to maintain my position!> Ax called.
And then -
The chamber all around me began to shift and blur! The forest of tissue melted like heated wax. But the changes continued. The chamber surrounding us shrank down, down, down. Half the size it was. Half that. Then half that. Smaller, smaller, smaller.
The rootlike tissues came unglued. Bounced like loose electrical cables, and then sucked up into the walls.
<Fiendish alien! You will not destroy the Helmacron knights! We will ru - agggghhh!>
SLOOONG!
The walls separating this chamber of the heart from the next stretched like a rubber band and exploded. The red blood faded to rose, then pink, then white.
Air! Would we still have air without the red blood cells? I gasped and found I could still breathe.
The noise was deafening. I wanted to cover my ears, but I had no ears, no hands. An earthquake, a tornado, a volcano, a tidal wave, a monsoon!
SLLLURPPPP!
<You will grovel for this!>
<Marco,> Jake shouted, <you'd better be in serious trouble! Because things are not pretty in here!>
Bong! Bong! Bong! Bong!
<Ahhhhhh!> I screamed. An enormous nightmare glob of pulsing organ bulged out in front of me. Then it did a fast-forward shrivel and disappeared.
<Watch out!> Tobias shouted.
What looked like a femur poked into the chamber and caught me on the head. I spun, knocking into Jake and one of the Helmacrons.
<Just relax,> Cassie urged. <It should be over soon!>
Seconds later -
Poof! The hurricane was over. Marco's morph was complete.
<Hey, you guys?> Marco called with a laugh. <Still alive or what?>
<Still alive,> Jake said shakily.
We were squashed together in a tiny space filled with bluish-white liquid. The walls surrounding us were smooth - and they were squeezing together. Another trash compactor, only dollhouse-sized.
<Probably an insect of some sort. Marco, what kind of morph are we in?> Ax said.
<Isn't it obvious?> Marco said nastily.
<Just tell us,> Tobias replied.
<You haven't told me anything for hours! Now I'm supposed to be all Mr. Communication?>
<Oh, very mature,> I snapped.
Okay, so Marco had good reason to feel the way he did. Five of his friends up his nose, Dracon beams blasting his stomach lining, yada, yada, yada. But, come on. He sounded like a spoiled two year-old.
Marco was often annoying but never stupid.
<Would you like to explain why you morphed?> Jake demanded. <Why you morphed when I told you it could kill us?>
<I plead the fifth.>
Jake, to us. <If I were a real general, I'd court-martial his sorry ...>
Then, from a jumble of alien parts, a Helmacron shouted. <Hah-HAH! No doubt you thought we were killed by the transforming of our pitiful hostage. But we are still alive! We shall rule the universe yet!>
And before any of us - Jake or Cassie, Ax or Tobias, before even I - could do anything to stop them ...
The Helmacrons fired in unison.
Tseeew!
Tseeew!
Tseeew!
Tseeew!
Tseeew!
<No!> I screamed.
And then ... silence.
<Marco!> Cassie cried. <Marco, can you hear us?>
Nothing.
<Marco!>
<Marco!> Cassie cried again. A wrenching sound, horrified, full of pain.
<He can't answer you, Cassie,> Jake said, his voice strangely flat.
Next I heard Tobias's voice. <Who would have predicted this? Who would have thought the Helmacrons were more dangerous than the Yeerks?>
"Neep! Neep! Neep!" A cheer went up from the Helmacrons.
A strange coldness swept through me. Not sadness. Not exactly. In a way, I was prepared for this. We had been through so many missions, so much danger. That one of us should die seemed ... inevitable. Unavoidable.
And then - Fury.
A wave of fury like a kick to the gut.
I wanted those Helmacrons dead.
In a way, I welcomed the pain. It reminded me I was alive. For now.
So, you think Marco's dead?
Yes, and I hope he burns in hell
O Majestic Leader, Humans are a race of fools! We told them time and time again that Helmacrons do not surrender! And yet they delude themselves, believing that we would deal with them simply because me have suffered minor injury! Does it not make you laugh, and prove that we are the only fit rulers of the universe? - From the log of the Helmacron Males
Neep! Neep! Ne - Aggggghhhh!"
I attacked while the Helmacrons were still cheering Marco's death. I bit clear though a Helmacron's leg with my powerful shark jaw.
The Helmacron jerked. He didn't lose his balance, but I felt something heavy fall near me.
<Cassie, Ax, grab the Dracon beam!> I shouted. <Jake, Tobias, hack through the walls.>
<But Marco -> Tobias said.
<Marco is dead!> I said savagely. <Do it!>
<No!> Jake shouted.
<We have to,> Cassie said quietly.
<We must fight to save ourselves,> Ax said. <There will be time for mourning later.>
<Fine,> Jake said bitterly.
<The treacherous aliens have severed my limb!> the Helmacron cried. <But I shall still hobble on to victory!>
<We must seize the power source!> another Helmacron shouted. <The brave Helmacron females shall lead the way!>
<We got the beam!> Cassie shouted. <Now what?>
<We'll tunnel through to the lungs,> I said. <You and Ax get inside, demorph, and turn that beam on them. The rest of us will bite a few holes in these creeps.>
<One problem,> Cassie said. <That Dracon beam is bigger than the human me. How am I going to pick it up?>
<Ant power,> I said.
<Schwarzenegger, right.>
Whoooosssh!
A pillow of air escaped from Marco's lung.
<Bingo!> Jake yelled.
<We got the lungs!> Tobias shouted.
By then, the other four Helmacrons had lost a limb. Been forced to drop their weapons. Quieted down some. And when they realized we were now armed - well, they were suddenly interested in dealing.
<Perhaps a strategic alliance is in order,> one of the Helmacron males said. <You will help us power up our ship.>
<And you will?> Jake prompted.
<Conquer all of the other planets in the universe before returning to crush Earth!>
<Tempting,> Jake said.
<Don't deal with these idiots,> I said angrily. <I say we waste them and bail.>
<I've had enough death for one day,> Cassie said. <Letting them power up their ship won't do any harm. If we'd suggested that in the beginning, Marco might still be alive.>
<Okay, Helmacrons, you have two choices,> Jake said. <Choice one: We march out of here together. You unshrink us. We let you use the blue box once to power up your engines and get off our planet.>
<Never! Helmacrons are the masters of the ->
<Shut up and listen to your second choice!> I shouted.
<We are listening to your unworthy scheme!>
<Choice two,> Jake said coldly. <Die.>
<You killed our friend,> I added. <And let me tell you, payback is no fun.>
The Helmacrons blustered and complained. But they agreed to surrender and unshrink us. They didn't really have a choice.
In the lungs we demorphed. Tobias to hawk. Ax to Andalite. The rest of us to human. And then, we marched out of the body. Out through what Cassie later called spiracles, or the breathing holes on either side of a cockroach's body. We kept the Helmacrons under guard like prisoners of war. We moved fast, anxious to abandon the corpse. A corpse that was all that was left of Marco.
Zombielike, I walked. Looked straight ahead. Didn't talk. Too busy processing. Marco, my fellow warrior and, yeah, even friend ... gone forever. Killed. Not by the Yeerks, as we all half-expected to be, but by a race of tiny egomaniacs.
There was no justice, poetic or otherwise, in that.
"This isn't the barn," Cassie said.
Wherever we were, it was dark and vast. At least it seemed that way. Then again, we weren't much bigger than bacteria.
"Does anyone see the Helmacron ship?" Jake asked.
<No,> Tobias said.
<If we cannot find the ship we will not be able to return to our full size,> Ax said.
"Duh."
"Ax, just guard the Helmacrons," Jake said.
<Yes, Prince Jake.> Ax held a Dracon beam on our little band of gimpy, marble-eyed prisoners. His tail hovered above his head, ready to strike.
"Tobias?" Jake said.
<I'll try to figure out where we are,> Tobias said wearily. With difficulty, he gained some altitude and was lost in the darkness.
Jake shook his head. "Somehow I imagined we'd come out in the barn and the Helmacron ship would just be there."
"Where did Marco go? He was supposed to stay put," I complained. Then felt bad for complaining.
<The ship may have been destroyed,> Ax said.
"Now there's a happy thought."
Cassie laughed grimly. "I wonder how long it will be before humans invent an antishrinking ray."
<A long, long time,> Ax stated.
"Look on the bright side," I said, manically. Desperately. "We're useless to the Yeerks. We're much too small to be Controllers now."
"Useless to humans, too," Jake snapped. "We can't fight Visser Three when we're the size of a shredded fingernail clipping."
"Don't worry about the fight," I said. "We're going to spend the rest of our lives just trying to get home."
Tobias was back. <I didn't see the ship,> he reported. <But I think we may be in Marco's closet. I think that big cliff over there is a hiking boot.>
"What is he?" Jake asked, glancing over his shoulder to the dark, looming mass that had once been our friend.
<Roach, I think.>
"ARFARFARFARFARF!" A vicious-sounding dog, somewhere nearby.
<We can hear a dog barking,> Ax said. <It is likely a dog's voice has a different frequency than that of a human.>
"That doesn't sound like Euclid," Cassie said musingly.
"Roach," Jake said bitterly. "It's Marco's last joke. Roaches are, like, impossible to kill. Pretty ironic, huh?"
"I think we should organize a search party," I said. "I'll go eagle. Tobias and I can try to determine if we really are in Marco's house."
"Jake's right," Cassie said suddenly. "I did an oral report on roaches in the fourth grade. Nothing kills them. Cutting off their heads doesn't kill them. Submerging them in water doesn't kill them -"
"Enough with the Animal Planet report," I said. "We're a fraction of an inch high and probably miles from home. It's time to focus."
"I'm not just babbling," Cassie argued. "Listen. I'm saying: Nothing kills a roach. Not even stopping its heart. They have some sort of backup system."
"You think we can still reach him?" Jake demanded.
"It's possible."
This was too good to believe. A tiny breath of hope against the cold wall of death.
Naturally, I was suspicious. "Hasn't he been in that morph for more than two hours?"
"Ax-man?" Jake asked.
<One hour, fifty-five minutes,> Ax said, moving his stalk eyes toward us and keeping his main eyes on the strangely silent prisoners.
"Five minutes," Cassie said. "There's hope."
I looked up, up, up. On one side - an enormous leg spiked with disgusting dirty hairs. On the other - a shiny smooth nut-case wall of armor.
The roach was giving off a dusky, filthy smell. A roach smell. But at that moment, the highly evolved roach body looked beautiful to me. Marco had ultimately picked the perfect morph.
And he just might be alive to gloat about it. We started to yell.
"Marco - morph out!" Jake cried desperately.
"Come on, Marco!" Cassie shouted.
<You have only five Earth minutes left!> Ax yelled.
<Morph out!>
"Do it now!"
No response.
<He's not moving,> Tobias said.
"Maybe he's in a coma," Cassie said.
"Or sleeping," Jake added, attempting a joke. Bad attempt.
"Marco," Cassie said. "Come on, now. Listen to me. If you're in there, start to demorph. I'll help you through."
<C'mon buddy, don't get stuck as a roach,> Tobias said desperately.
"Dude," I said. "How dumb is it to live the rest of your life in a body that makes girls scream in terror? Your dating life is so over before it's even begun."
<Four minutes,> Ax said.
"Marco, man, come on," Jake pleaded. "We need you."
"Yeah, we haven't had a good laugh all day."
Who knows what finally reached him? Cassie's gentle coaching. Tobias's too-real fear. Jake's pleading. My pathetic wisecracks. Maybe even Ax's cold countdown. I'm not even sure any of our puny voices, thought-speak or not, got through.
All I know is that the hairy leg near me began to puff outward. Growing, growing - until it was a roach-colored wall. We ran to keep from getting squashed.
<We have been viciously tricked!> a Helmacron shouted. <The transforming alien is not really dead!>
Ax pointed the Dracon beam. <Shut. Up,> he said calmly.
The Helmacrons' marble eyes all turned to face Marco.
Then -
A rumbling of sound.
<I believe Marco is awake,> Ax informed us.
"Marco. Man! You are in serious doo-doo." Jake tried to sound serious, but he didn't. "Ax, he probably can't hear my voice, so ask him where we are!" I said. Then I smacked Marco on his growing human arm. Ridiculous. All less than an inch of me.
<Marco, Rachel has just hit you in anger. And Jake demands to know why you morphed when he expressly forbade you to do so. However, at the moment there is no need to answer this question as I will be unable to hear your response.>
"ARFARFARFARFARF!" Cujo, in the hallway.
Then, a rumbling of sound. A massive human voice.
There was no way I could hear or understand Marco's words, but I bet he said something like this: "Oh, man. I'm getting it from both sides! Everybody's always blaming me! This whole thing is Rachel's fault. If she hadn't hit me in the first place, I wouldn't have fallen and hit my head ..."
"Ax, tell Marco to stop whining and thank us for saving him from a life under the kitchen sink!"
Ax did. Here's what I know Marco said: "Remind me to send flowers after I save your sorry butts."
Marco morphed a gull.
We clung to him. The five of us, and our five prisoners.
<Prince Jake instructs that you not forget the camera.>
Marco explained to us where we were as he bird-walked out of the closet, hopped up onto the desk, and grabbed the camera with his beak. Then, we flew through the open window and headed toward Cassie's barn.
Now that he was in morph, Marco could engage in two-way communication with Ax and Tobias.
<That crappy dog attacked me!> he told us as we passed into bright sunshine. <Practically chewed my hand off.>
"How'd you get away?" Cassie asked, via Ax.
<Even though I was dripping copious amounts of blood, I performed like a brave and stalwart knight and marched down the ladder of rattling steel!> Marco said. <Then I rode home on my trusty purple steed.>
"Please tell me you're not going to be imitating the Helmacrons for the next two months," Jake said.
<Nah,> Marco said. <I'm going to be too busy conquering the universe.>
Had we actually missed this guy? Hard to believe.
<Dog bites can be nasty,> Cassie said. <Did you have a doctor look at it?>
<Please, like I had the time? Besides, when I morphed and demorphed, the thing was gone. I'm perfect again.>
"Yeah, and we'll talk later about your brilliant decision to disobey orders." Jake. "I just know you had a good reason."
<Uh ... yeah, I hope so.>
"I wonder what's on that film," I said.
Jake frowned. "We'll never know. Developing it is too risky. We'll burn it as soon as we get to the barn."
We did.
Marco had hidden the Helmacron ship in the freezer, along with the blue box. Ax hooked everything up and forced the protesting Helmacrons to unshrink us.
Relief.
Then we let them power up their ship and take off.
"Promise us you'll never come back to Earth," Jake said as the Helmacrons hovered in front of the barn door.
<You have our word, as honorable female servants of the Helmacron empire!>
<A Helmacron male would never lie!>
At the same time, I noticed the blue box beginning to elevate. I couldn't see the Helmacrons minuscule tractor beam, but I knew it was there.
Marco and I both jumped to grab the box. I snagged it. We even managed not to hit our heads together.
Cassie stowed the blue box somewhere safe. Again, for security, she didn't tell us where. Then we all headed home for a little quality time with our parents. I had piles of homework. I was researching the Salem witch-hunts on the Internet when I flashed on that strange spiky thing we saw in Marco's bloodstream.
Ten minutes later I found it on the Web site from the Centers for Disease Control.
A sketchy line drawing of the spiky thing.
A rabies virus.
The dog bite Marco had told us about ...
What I read about rabies didn't make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.
Rabies is not a pretty disease. Get it and you have two choices: Start a series of injections within three days. Or die. Die after going awfully, violently insane.
Bottom line: If Marco hadn't morphed, to roach or anything else, he'd be dying. He wouldn't have known he had rabies so he wouldn't have started the treatment in time. When he'd morphed in the kid's closet, almost twelve hours had already gone by.
Other bottom line: It was clear to me that Marco had morphed not to upset Jake or to save his own skinny butt. Not to betray us or because he valued his own life over ours.
He'd morphed because the disease had already begun to twist his mind and distort his judgment.
He'd morphed against direct orders because he was slowly going insane.
This was good news. Marco wasn't dying and with this interesting piece of information I could get him off the hook with Jake and the others.
I reached for the phone. Stopped.
Smirked. Maybe in the morning.
I did like how they kept referring to the dog as Cujo, just to give a hint
Anyway, next book is a Tobias book,. called The Test, ghostwritten by Ellen Giroux, who was responsible for the rather tripper "The Familiar" book we just read before this last one, and "The Illusion", where Tobias is tortured by the sadistic Yeerk Taylor. This book also has a character we've met begore, but don't worry,. They're much less annoying than the Hemacrons, and while Geroux's books tend to be kind of weird, I like them, and I like this one, and I hope you will too.
Yeah, the next book is definitely an upgrade from this one. Though I do have one complaint about it that goes aaaaaall the way back to the beginning of the thread!
So you got grievances. I look forward to hearing them.
"I'm sorry, but on page 12 of The Invasion, Jake said his middle name was William, but in chapter 11 of The Test, his mother when she's mad at him, calls him by his first and middle name, and she clearly says "Jacob Franklin". Does Jake have two middle names? My immersion is ruined!
Cassie stowed the blue box somewhere safe. Again, for security, she didn't tell us where.
Oh my fucking god this is such terrible opsec. What are you worried about! What is the risk assessment here? One of the other Animorphs getting infested is game over for you anyway, and none of them knowing where the box is if Cassie gets hit by a bus tomorrow puts you in the same place as if you just destroy it or drop it in the ocean! Or worse, in fact, since the Yeerks have demonstrated they at one point had blue box seeking technology!
Yeah. Realistically, Tobias and Ax should be hiding it; they're the two hardest to capture and infest, and if anything happens to one, you still have someone who knows the location and you can revise your options then.
Operation Just Bury It In The Woods Or Whatever
The chances of digging a hole in the woods near that city and not finding a crashed alien spaceship or civilization of mutated mole people is basically nil.
The chances of digging a hole in the woods near that city and not finding a crashed alien spaceship or civilization of mutated mole people is basically nil.
My name is Tobias. Still a freak of nature. Part human. Part bird. Confused? Don't worry, it gets better.
I am flying over the forest. The air is thick. A storm is approaching. It is only early afternoon, but the sky is growing black as the front moves in on the city. A towering wall of rain, wind, and cumulus clouds.
I had to find food before the storm. I was hungry. But then, I'm always looking for food. That's life for a bird of prey. Hunger.
A shrew stepped out from its burrow. It loitered nervously, sniffing the moisture. We had the same thought, me and the shrew. Hunker down against nature's wrath, but fill your belly first.
I was higher on the food chain. I tucked into a dive.
My wings pressed tight to my body. Air whistled past. Mountains, forest, and sky. All a blur, a flashing streak. Everything but the shrew, shifting agitatedly, chomping on a seed ...
My talons struck, embedded, and squeezed. Drained life instantly.
Wonder what it's like? Dig your fingernails into a too-ripe peach. Rip sections off with your teeth. Gulp them without chewing. The kill is something like that.
I downed the shrew and lifted off.
I don't think about the kill anymore. I'm hawk and human. I'll explain later. Just try to understand that the hawk must feed the human. It has to happen.
I don't think about it anymore.
That's a lie.
"You vile little bird! Do you realize what you've done? Do you realize what you've become? You're trapped! You have to live out your life as a bird!"
Her name was Taylor. My Yeerk torturer. Her voice screeching. Bruising my ears. Tormenting me after every kill. Other times, too. Still, after all this time ...
THWOK! THWOK! THWOK! THWOK!
A helicopter! Hovering low over the trees, dispersing terrified crows in all directions. If I were a true hawk, I'd have cleared out with the other birds. Instead, I circled around and flapped toward the turbulence.
My friends, the Animorphs, the ones who fight the Yeerk invasion of Earth, say that since my capture, I live too much of life in my head. They must be right. I'd almost missed everything.
Not just the helicopter. The humans below, streaming across rough forest floor, the tires of their ATV's scoring the soil. The searchlights streaking the trees in the daytime darkness, making rabbits and deer dart in alarm.
I flew to the nearest ranger station. It was ringed by squad cars and TV news vans. I swooped down, closer to the action. Landed on a low branch. A blond woman in a raincoat held a microphone close to her lips and swatted windwhipped hair away from her face.
"Bobby McIntire," she shouted above the noise of the vehicles, "missing now for two full days since he wandered away from his camping party. Hope that he'll be found alive is fading. But it's not just a race against time and the weather." Lightning struck the sky above her, imparting urgency to her words. "Little Bobby is deaf and can't hear the desperate calls of rescuers. Kelly King," she concluded, looking skyward, "reporting live." She held a frozen, concerned expression until the producer gave her the all clear.
"I will break you." It was Taylor's voice again, whispering in my mind. "You can't win."
I set a course for the storm front. A strange thing to do, to turn toward the lightning. To fly into the line of rain, the thunderclaps, the wind.
But it made me feel like Lindbergh over the Atlantic. Fearless and strong. Maybe even a little heroic.
I wanted those feelings.
See, it wasn't long ago that the Yeerks captured me. A crazed and insane human-Controller made my life a hell for several excruciating hours. I survived.
I even thought the torture was over. I didn't realize that torture doesn't end when you're freed.
People think it does. People who've never been through torture think that when the physical injuries heal, you're healed, too. They're wrong.
Torture plays tricks on your mind. "You're weak and scared," it says. "You think you're in control? Hah!" it says. "Doubt yourself. Worry, and question, and fear," it tells you.
Pain can be very convincing.
Sometime during my capture, my mind was assaulted with memories, images of all the times I've been weak. Or think I might have been ...
Like my first time at the Yeerk pool.
My mind flashed back to it now, to the scene at Yeerk Central, that echoing underground dome with a sludgy pool churning at its core. The Yeerk pool. That's where the Yeerks do their dirtiest dirty work, where parasitic, sluglike aliens dunk your head in the muck and force one of their kind through your ear.
The Yeerks squeeze your brain and wring out your freedom. They control all thoughts and movements. They silence your howls and screams of grief until you are nothing but a slave. A stupid puppet. An unwilling soldier of the Yeerk Empire. A threat to all humanity.
But you've probably heard about all this by now. Right?
Tha-BOOM! Boom!
A thunderclap roared and half brought me back to the present. The other half of me was still at the Yeerk pool that first, horrible time. Clinging to the rock face, praying for camouflage, searching the colossal cavern for a way to escape. A way to get past Visser Three's men.
<Where's Tobias?> I'd heard Rachel say, faintly.
How long since I'd morphed to red-tailed hawk? An hour and fifty minutes? An hour and fifty-five?
How long?!
The others had escaped already. The other Animorphs, I mean. They'd dodged the visser's fireball gauntlet. They'd slipped out to safety, back through the janitor's closet, back into the school.
Rachel, Cassie, Marco, Jake.
Had I missed the deadline? Had I been more than two hours in morph?
Couldn't have. Can't have. No. I'd be trapped forever. A bird.
Independent, free, alone.
Forever.
Images of the human life I'd led till then flooded my mind. The images were dark. My apathetic aunt. My alcoholic uncle.
Then, something brighter, something powerful surged through my mind. Something else. Shoring me up. Drawing me in. A wave of ...
What? What had I felt then, at that moment, with the seconds ticking down? With the deadline chasing me ...
Weakness or strength?
"You'll never know," Taylor said. "You won't know who or what you are when I'm done with you."
Bobby McIntire needed to be found.
I let a fading thermal lift me into the atmosphere.
My name is Tobias. I'm a human. I'm a hawk. If you want to find something in the forest, you'd do well to ask me.
There's nothing I don't see.
Tha-BOOM! Boom!
Thunderclaps. I let the warm air draw me up. Three hundred feet. Higher. I could see through the haze, from city's edge to the mountains.
The national park is a very big place. You could hike for days and never see anyone. Spotting a boy from a helicopter would be like finding the needle in the haystack. And the haystack was about to get really wet.
Binoculars, infrared goggles, and laser sights flipped on. I don't mean to brag, but nature gave
me excellent tools. I can see a hiker's broken shoelace. A robin's chicks.
I can pick out deer poop.
"You vile little bird!" Taylor's voice, always humming in my ear.
Quiet as a glider, my personal search plane swept huge, broad strokes above the trees.
My friends, the other Animorphs - the other kids who knew the great Andalite warrior Elfangor, who'd been there as he died, and who'd accepted the Yeerk-fighting Andalite technology to become any animal they can touch - they were expecting me to show up at Cassie's barn. There was a meeting
scheduled for after school. If I wanted to make it, I had to travel east.
I edged west, following the search party's tire tracks. Tracing the lines as they crossed and converged in a half-mile section of sparse tree cover. I was guessing that this was the last place the boy was seen. Good place to start. I dove to fifty feet, skimming the treetops, looking for a sign, a clue.
Anything.
Nothing.
A raindrop struck my wing. No, not yet! Three more drops hit me like BB's.
A whistling gale pushed me back into the air and blew me away from the search party tracks. I flapped harder to fight the strengthening wind. It was pushing me toward mudflats. Forcing me toward a dried up stream.
The raindrops were starting to feel like wargame paint pellets. I remember. My uncle took me to do the paint-ball thing. I hated it, but it was one of the only things we'd done together. Anyway, I was going to have to stop. The downpour was starting.
Suddenly - a splash of red against brown. A shred of bright cloth caught on a bramble. Yes.
<Bobby?> I chanced in open thought-speak. <If you're here, show me where you are.> Brushing the treetops, I scanned the mud. Nothing.
The wind was absurd. Violent one minute, dead the next.
Then - a single footprint. A kid's footprint.
<Bobby!> I called again. <If you can hear me, wave. Or move. Do something!>
A faint rustling of brush. Then, more movement. I circled in to land. A dirt clod shot straight up into the air, grazing my beak.
<Whoa, okay! Great, Bobby. Good work.>
I didn't see the giant sinkhole until I almost landed in it. It was a pit so invisible under the overgrowth, it would have taken searchers months to find it.
I peered down at the kid. He was searching wildly for the source of my voice. His eyes were swollen from crying. His hands were raw from trying to climb up the vertical, featureless sinkhole wall. He stood in stagnant water a foot deep. And a flash flood was on the way.
<We're gonna get you out of there,> I said. But I didn't have a morph that could haul him out. Hork-Bajir? I wasn't practiced enough with the blades not to lacerate the kid and I definitely couldn't let him see an alien. <Hang tight, Bobby. I'll be back soon. It'll be okay.> A lightning bolt sizzled the ground nearby. Not good.
The trip to the ranger station was probably the worst flight of my life. The rain pummeled me. The wind screwed up my feathers. But the very worst part was the dead air. By the time I reached the ranger station, my body was burning ligaments for fuel.
Through the windows I saw most of the search party, inside and drying off. Getting ready for another round of wet and nasty searching. Then I saw a guy who looked like he needed a miracle. He was sitting outside on a stump, letting the rain drench him through. The ink from his name tag was running down his chest, but I could still read the letters. "Mr. McIntire." Bobby's dad? He fixed his sad stare on the mountains.
I touched down just feet from him. Didn't once think about the consequences. <Listen,> I said, <I know this is going to sound crazy. I know you'll think you're losing your mind. But I can take you to Bobby.>
You can tell a lot about a person by the way they respond to a talking hawk. There's the runaway- screaming type. The bring-palms-to-head-to-squeeze-out-demons reflex. Even the kill-the animal maneuver. Most people don't do too well when their reality's challenged.
But Bobby's dad was cool. I mean, he looked kind of freaked at first. His eyes bugged out and he spun around frantically, looking for the prankster who was fooling with him. But once the initial surprise faded, he quickly regained his composure.
"Okay," he said. "Lead the way."
He probably thought he was nuts, but I don't think it would have mattered whether he was hearing voices or talking with aliens. He just wanted his son back.
That kind of love ... it made me feel ... strange.
I flew from tree to tree, a few hundred feet at a time, waiting for Mr. McIntire and three rangers he'd convinced to come along. All the while I gave him directions in private thought-speak. At least I could stay a good distance from the men, to keep it uncertain whether a hawk was really running the show.I pictured Bobby in the pit, the torrential rain tunneling into channels, forming a raging arroyo.
Racing like a hungry, deadly snake. A massive, silent snake that Bobby's deaf ears wouldn't hear.
"You will die, Andalite." Taylor's hateful voice, droning in my head.
<Over the hill,> I directed.
Then we crested the rise and I saw something I didn't think was possible. Sheets of rain punished the earth to our right and our left, but over Bobby's sinkhole ... unbelievable. A corridor of rainless clouds with two ends of a weak rainbow marking the borders.
I was sure my mind was making the scene up. It couldn't turn out this well. Nothing ever did. Taylor wouldn't let it ...
<Bobby!> I called. I pumped my wings and found him, the water rising around his knees. I perched on a low branch and watched as three powerful rangers pulled him to safety. Watched as Bobby collapsed in his dad's arms, shaking, as joy replaced fear.
Bobby's dad glanced up at me, gratitude in his eyes.
Ever have something work out so perfectly, you feel you could fly? That's how I felt - and the cool thing was, I could actually do it. I could actually fly.
I took off down the swath of rainless sky toward Cassie's barn. It felt so good. I played in the air like a pilot at an air show, awed the audience with my death-defying stunts. I cut my engines, fell into a nosedive, ready to pull up just seconds before I hit the ground.
And then ...
A golden eagle, twice my size, screeching toward me like a wrecking ball ...
WHAM!
And all was blackness.
I never even had a chance.
Yep. Lot of Stephen King fans among the 9-12 year old set, too.
Is that sarcasm? That actually does match my experience from that time.
This hawk's gonna feel that wing. Hero or not, when he wakes up, he'll hurt like crazy." My eyes snapped open. Through the links of my cage I spied the faces of two concerned, labcoated veterinarians. Both women. One brunette, one blond. The words University Clinic were
stitched on their pockets.
"Do you think Superbird needs an epidural?"
I tensed my extremities. Right wing not responding. A sore and twisted neck. That nasty golden eagle had banged me up pretty bad. The memory of the impact got my hawk heart pumping. Fear, territoriality, confusion.
"No, I gave him enough medication to keep him comfy till morning. Hey, look, he's awake. Feeling better, Mr. Hawk?" the blond one said, with the gentle condescension appropriate for wildlife who can't make it in the wild.
I could have found both vets extremely annoying. But as it was, with an ugly vulture in the cage next to mine, and a prehistoric egret two doors down, I was actually glad to hear a human voice.
How much time had passed? What day was it?
"Seen the headlines?" the brunette asked me, as if in answer to my question.
Sometimes, not always, if you ask questions you want answers to, the universe will respond.
It was the evening edition newspaper that she held in her hands, and it confirmed that I'd been asleep way too long. "'Father Claims Hawk Led Searchers to Lost Boy.'" She smiled at me, then summed it up.
"You da bird!"
The vets chuckled. They didn't know this was no laughing matter. They didn't understand ... It hit me, right at that moment. I'd messed up big time. That headline ... the kiss of death ... if the Yeerks found me first ...
I was stupid. So stupid!
Any time you get an animal doing unusual stuff, you get Yeerks. To Yeerks, all animals are suspects, possible "Andalite bandits" disguised in morph.
This was bad. What was I thinking?
My friends, they'd be looking for me, too. I'd endangered our own security. By trying to fight Taylor's ghost, I'd dragged my friends into danger.
Stupid. Weak.
I had to morph! Morph and get out before ...
But no. I couldn't morph in front of the vets. And there were video cameras, mounted up in the corners of the lab, recording everything.
Who'd get to me first?
"What's he doing? Flapping his wing? Hey, he's gonna get hurt. Chloe, quick! We need to sedate him."
Sedate me?
I fell back to the floor of the cage and lay motionless.
No way would I be sedated.
Not with two groups looking for me. Two groups I knew would take that headline very seriously.
Group One: my friends.
Group Two: my enemies.
"Wait," the vet said. "Forget it. He calmed down. He's fine. I don't know what that was about."
"Okay, Superbird. Stay out of trouble. We'll see you in the morning."
They were going away? They were leaving me here!
Why did everyone leave? Why ...
They walked to the door, switched off the main fluorescent overheads, deadbolted the door behind them.
They were going home. They had homes to go to.
They were leaving me to face my fate alone.
The room was cold and sterile. Sick and injured birds squawked and cooed in the partial darkness.
Alone.
And all I could do was wait.
Sccreeeeech!
The sound jarred me from a restless half-sleep. I looked at the clock: 1:12 A.M. Scanned for the source of the sound.
For a moment, glowing metal blinded my sensitive hawk vision. When my sight returned, the lock on the door was sizzling. Evaporating ...
Behind the door, heavy, punishing footsteps slammed down the hallway. A sound that meant only one thing.
Hork-Bajir.
The door burst open.
Tseew! Tseew!
Seven-foot-tall bladed bodies charged into the room! Video cameras disintegrated in flashes of Dracon fire.
No time to morph!
I pressed myself to the back of the cage. Tried to cover my reddish tail, tried to pretend I wasn't there.
They were on me instantly, scowling with fiery eyes. Holding weapons to my head.
"You mine, Andalite!" asserted the Hork-Bajir with the worst breath. "Visser Three will give praise."
This guy obviously hadn't been on Earth very long. Getting praise from Visser Three would be like trying to stop a brushfire with a glass of water. But I wasn't about to burst his bubble.
He hefted my cage into the air and ran for the door, banging me roughly. His henchmen, two in front, two behind, surrounded him. Their weapons were drawn, their eyes were searching. They were tense as we moved into the hall. On guard. Almost as though they expected ... Tseew. Tseew.
Three humans appeared twenty feet down the corridor. Their Dracon rounds ricocheted off the walls. What was going on?
Humans firing Dracons at Hork-Bajir!
Controller versus Controller?
"Drop the bird," a man with a mustache ordered. "Now!"
The Hork-Bajir snorted a laugh at the wiry man. "Bird is visser's. You rebel make mistake." Quick as lightning, he raised his arm and opened fire on the humans.
The human-Controllers were agile and dove for cover. They just weren't agile enough. An abbreviated scream echoed down the hall. The mustached man vanished in a flash of light and heat, a silhouette scorched against the whitewashed wall. The other humans didn't seem to notice the loss of their comrade. Or else, they didn't care.
Only Yeerks can lose a teammate and not bat an eye.
BLAAAAM!
Four more humans coming up from behind! Slamming the Hork-Bajir before they knew what hit them.
I didn't know who to root for. Hork-Bajir or human? Visser Three or ... who? Who were these people?
A long, sharp, Hork-Bajir blade caught my cage and lifted it. He ran swiftly toward the exit. This guy could move! Smashed over a stainless steel medical cart. Crashed into empty cages stacked against the wall.
Blocked!
Three more people! Large ones, dressed in dark leather, with straps and metal clasps covering their bodies. Bodies that blocked the exit.
My captor halted, claws screeching across the polished floor.
He turned back and moved toward a window. Three new Dracon-packing people moved in to block his path.
Surrounded!
My cage dangled precariously from the Hork-Bajir's blade. Aliens and humans froze in a grim, momentary standoff.
Suddenly, my captor leaped at the smallest person. A woman. It was a low move, a desperate attempt at escape. Foolish, too. The others were on him instantly.
We crashed to the floor, my cage caving beneath the Hork-Bajir's weight until the cold steel bars pressed tight against my feathers. Around me swirled a sea of hands and claws, clutching wildly. For me. The prize.
I couldn't keep track of what happened next. I just know that someone sent the cage careening across the floor. My frail, injured body tumbled like a rag in the dryer. The cage lodged under the large sink of a utility closet, my hawk body even more bruised and damaged.
I heard frantic shuffling from the fight beyond, but from my position, I could see very little.
Deafening Dracon fire was followed by a momentary stillness. Heavy footsteps marched my way.
Four Hork-Bajir feet came to a halt before my cage.
"Gafrash!" one roared. A hideous appendage reached for me. I cringed, waiting to be taken again, waiting to be seized.
The Hork-Bajir arm jerked back.
The feet tensed and turned to run, but there was nowhere to go.
Because four more feet, twice as large, gigantic and familiar, landed with a thunder-thud.
Rachel!
One Hork-Bajir was down. The other snatched up my cage.
<Oh, no you don't!> Rachel cried, baring her massive, flesh-tearing teeth. Her wild grizzly bear claws flashed like giant steel rigatoni and lashed my captor's arm.
<The cavalry's here, Tobias,> she huffed. <Hang on!>
