The Weakness
Page 5
Too late!
Dizzy from trying to follow the inspector’s swirling path, she couldn’t react in time. Couldn’t dodge the swinging bladed arm of the Hork-Bajir who loomed behind her.
She was down! The Hork-Bajir raised his arm to strike again, to slice the polar bear’s already bleeding back.
Two down! No!
I’d been hit!
Shot in the belly at close range by a human-Controller I hadn’t seen sneaking up on me. I’d been too distracted by the inspector’s infuriating speed and evasiveness.
This Yeerk-carrying human was going to pay for that! If only I could rear up on my hind legs …
ZZZIIISSSPPP!
THWAAAPP!
My head jerked violently to the left. I could hear the bones in my neck crack and creak.
Pathetically I raised one front leg — and stumbled to the ground.
The room spun! Bodies, human and alien. Flailing. Falling.
The flash of gunpowder. The clashing of blades.
The hissing growl of polar bears, growing weaker.
I had to get up, get back into battle!
Slowly, painfully, I raised my bruised head.
And saw the blue blur come to a dead stop about twenty feet in front of me. Speak to a blue deerlike creature with a bladed tail who stood just inside the door.
With an odd grace the inspector walked off through the door held open for him by a heavily bleeding human-Controller.
Lose one opponent. Gain another.
No way could we win against a dozen still-standing Hork-Bajir and twenty human-Controllers with guns. And Visser Three. In a space barely big enough to accommodate five polar bears standing still.
Exhaustion. I had never felt so drained and depleted. And the pain in my gut …
Maybe it was time to …
Pllaaaammmph!
I swung my head around.
Fllooooommph!
The visser had begun to morph.
To some massive, horrible — thing.
From his proud Andalite body shot folds of gray skin. Flaps of stinking flesh, piling on top of one another, layer upon layer. Like pudding dumped from a bowl.
Skin like buckets of quicksand slapped onto a six-, seven-, eight-foot monster!
Eyes like tiny rotted raisins. Arms and legs like columns of poured mud, two feet around.
A stomach that roiled out like a wave and slapped onto the floor!
That kept on growing!
Skin that oozed an outrageously foul stench. Think sewer. Then corpse.
What little air there was in that small overcrowded room was already stale with the odors of sweat and blood. Boiling with the heat of so many bodies. The visser’s reeking morph made breathing almost impossible.
And the heat!
My body felt bloated with it. My skin stretched over layers of dense blubber. My fur coat felt like the heavy lead blanket the doctor drapes over you before pointing an X-ray machine at your chest.
Oppressive!
Too late I realized the polar bear — an animal that expends twice the amount of energy at a given speed than any other mammal — an animal covered in layers of insulating blubber — was not the morph for this job.
I was vaguely aware of massive white shapes, splotched with gore, lumbering toward the outer wall. Dragging themselves over a pile of bloody Hork-Bajir. Warriors dead and dying.
“HHHSSSRRROOOAAARRWW!”
With all the willpower I could muster I reared up on my hind legs. My battered oblong head swung from side to side as I took a step closer to the visser’s disgusting, still-growing monster.
I’d never survive an assault. Only one thing to do.
Attack!
I threw my suddenly puny body into the grotesque fleshy monster. Stumbled as I met little resistance against the reeking pulpy mass.
I pulled back. Again, threw myself against the pile of stinking gray flesh. Again. Again!
Until the visser reached down with one putrid claw and plucked my fifteen-hundred-pound body off his like a chimpanzee plucking a flea off its belly.
And with a wet spray of foul breath — tossed me against the far wall!
I smashed into the plaster and slid to the floor. My senses were dulled. Fire raced down my back and across my ribs. My front left paw was pulpy and red. But I wasn’t dead.
And that’s all that mattered.
The window! On the wall above me!
A quick glance around the destroyed room.
Marco, Ax, Cassie, Tobias.
I couldn’t see any of them.
Good.
Just piles of Hork-Bajir and battered human-Controllers, groaning, struggling to their feet.
No inspector.
And Visser Three’s outrageous morph slowly shrinking.
Time to bail.
I lumbered to my feet. My head spun with the effort. I felt a stream of blood flow down my forehead. And another jab of pain — awful! — down my back where my spine had crashed against the wall.
The window was about seven feet up the wall. The glass and frame had been smashed when we stormed the room.
With effort, I stood on my hind legs. Stepped onto the back of a felled Hork-Bajir. Reached. And with my last ounce of strength hauled my broken body up and across the torn sill.
And tumbled to the litter-strewn ground.
I was out!
We were safe!
I didn’t finish the question.
Because the look on Marco’s face, the set of Ax’s shoulders, and the way Tobias turned away gave me my answer.
Cassie was still inside.
“This is just fabulous. This is just perfect!” Marco raged. “In less than two hours Cassie’s going down. One way or the other. Infestation? Maybe. Torture? Why not. Life as a gigantic fur ball? Possible.”
“And she should!” Marco whirled to glare at me.
I lowered my head and the tears spilled faster.
“Nice, Rachel,” Marco spat. “The ‘Don’t-be-mean-to-me I’m-a-girl’ thing is pathetic.”
We were in Cassie’s barn. Cassie’s favorite place. Which, thanks to me, she might never see again.
“I … I thought she was out …” I whispered.
Marco snorted. “Shouldn’t we let our new fearless leader decide the next move? She’s been just fantastic with strategy so far. I, for one, am impressed.”
I sniffed and swiped at my eyes with the back of my hand. “Marco …”
“Yes? Did you want to say something to me?” He crossed his arms and stared. “ ’Cause I don’t know if a macho warrior like you
wants to be talking to me. I’m the one who thinks too much. I’m the boring one with the Hamlet complex. The one who says, ‘Gee, Rachel. Don’t you think we should take a look first? Investigate? Prepare? You know, before we march into certain death?’ ”
Okay, now I was mad. I’d screwed up really, really badly. But wasn’t I punishing myself enough? For God’s sake, I was crying! Not something I made a habit of doing. “I didn’t know that Garatron inspector would be there!” I shouted, my fists clenched.
Marco shook his head. Like he was disgusted. “Yeah, well, you would have if you’d listened to reason.”
Tobias stretched and refolded his wings.
My stomach clenched. I felt chilled.
Not exactly a strong endorsement from Tobias.
But why would he be pleased with me? Why should he stick up for me? My show-off performance had put us all — all — in serious danger. Had quite possibly condemned us to death.
An old man, dead. Cassie …
I was going to be sick. I clapped my hand over my mouth.
No. Get control, Rachel. Not here. Not now.
“No!” I turned to Marco. Tobias. “Ax. Please. Look at me.” He did, with his main eyes. “I’m not your leader. Not anymore. I can’t bring that old man back to life. I can’t tell you to go down to the Yeerk pool to rescue Cassie. I can’t tell you to do anything! I screwed up. I …”
I shook my head. “No. Ax …” I swallowed hard and looked to Tobias. “And Tobias. Thanks for the loyalty. It must be hard, pretending to have faith in me. And Marco? Thanks for the honesty.” I laughed a forced, sick laugh. “It’s ugly but I deserve it. But … I’m going down to the Yeerk pool alone. It’s the only way.”
“Are you on medication?” Marco put his hands to his head. “No, I really want to know. Seriously. ’Cause I think your dosage needs to be adjusted.”
“I’m going alone. That’s final. Look, Cassie went down alone when she had to.”
“When the rest of us were totally incapacitated,” Marco shot back. “Different situation. She had no choice. You do.”
“Yeah, well, Jake’s not here,” I snapped. Even to my own ears I sounded like a petulant child. “And if he had been I guess none of this would have happened.”
Tobias …
Guilt. Shame.
Overwhelming sadness. And anger.
Why was this happening? How could things have gotten so bad? Gone so wrong?
It was all too much. Too much!
I couldn’t …
“I quit. I resign. Let Marco be leader,” I yelled, kicking an old wooden crate against the wall. A wounded raccoon moaned nervously in its cage. “It’s what he’s wanted all along. I’m out of here.”
Marco followed me out of the barn.
“Rachel. Wait up.”
I did. I don’t know why.
But I threw my arms up in the air and slapped them down against my thighs and tossed back my head and growled.
He trotted up and came to stand in front of me.
“No,” he said.
“What do you mean, ‘no’? Don’t want to have to deal with my mess?” I said flatly, brushing away a final tear and pretending it was a speck of dirt. “I understand that. It’s a no-win situation. And you’re nothing if not pragmatic, Marco.”
Marco nodded. “You’re right about that. Lousy odds for success. And I am pragmatic.”
“The odds are always lousy. But Jake beats the odds.”
“Yeah. We’re lucky we have Jake. But he’s screwed up, too.”
“Your pity isn’t really helping me, Marco.”
“Jake never walks out. Never quits.”
“Yeah, well, goody for Saint Jake. You’re the one who didn’t want me in charge. Why not just take your big victory and be happy. The Animorphs are all yours till the Almighty Jake comes home.”
“Look, I can’t lead. Not right now. This isn’t my mission. Maybe someday I’ll be in charge. If I am, I’ll probably screw it up. Like I said, even Saint Jake blows it sometimes. What makes you so special, anyway?”
“Yeah? Then it’s your turn to screw up. I’m gone.”
Marco grabbed my arm. I jerked it away. He looked as angry as I was.
“Listen to me, you mall-crawling psycho, we have one hour and ten minutes to get Cassie out of the Yeerk pool. Now, I can come up with a clever plan. I can work all the angles. I can see the perfect solution. But all that takes time. We don’t have time, Rachel. We don’t have time for clever and subtle. We need reckless. We need impulsive. We need dangerous. We need out-of-your-mind, pure adrenaline, butt-kicking, total out-there insanity.”
He stabbed his finger in my face. “We could have used me, back at the Community Center. But right now we need you. We have an hour to save your best friend, Jake’s girlfriend, and the entire human race. You got us into this, now get us out.”
Tobias and Ax were still waiting in the barn.
I closed the door behind me. I stood just inside, Marco within arm’s reach, peering into the blue-and-gray gloom of the barn.
It was evening, about six o’clock. I was already late for dinner but I’d deal with my mother’s questions tomorrow. If she’d even noticed I was gone, with all the time she was spending at the office lately on a major new case.
“Tobias?” My voice came out a little raw. “We have to act. Now. Anything new we need to know about the entrances to the Yeerk pool?”
There was a beat of silence. I thought I saw Ax smile, in that incredible mouthless way Andalites smile. But I could have imagined that, too.
Another beat of silence. Tobias said,
I slammed my fist into my other hand. “I’m planning to get Cassie out of there. Now answer my question. Everything you have on Yeerk pool entrances. Now.”
“Any other options?” I asked quickly.
Tobias cocked his head and seemed to consider.
“Lousy real estate market?” Marco wondered.
“Time check, Ax?”
Tobias said.
“Take us half an hour to get there
, another half hour to infiltrate,” Marco said. “If it is a Yeerk cover, it’ll be guarded. More so, now. Then, we’ll need time to get to the Yeerk pool, find Cassie, bail out. I don’t see it. Not in any sixty-five minutes.”
“It doesn’t take a Bug fighter that long,” I said.
I took a deep breath. I had a terrible idea. A suicidal idea. I half smiled at Marco. “You wanted insane? I’ve got some insane.”
“Okay, Rachel. This is insane. I mean, genuinely insane. How are we going to get to that plane without getting shot at or eaten by German shepherds?”
Okay, so the situation looked a little grim. Morgan Airport. For small jets, both corporate and privately owned. Even though the sun hadn’t yet set, too-bright white lights illuminated the airfield, which meant no convenient shadows in which to lurk. Flat, open terrain, which meant no natural cover.
High fences. Some of which just might deliver a nasty shock to anyone attempting to scale them. And if a jolt of electricity didn’t get the intruder, rows of barbed wire would. That or one of the eighty-pound, highly trained guard dogs.
Human guards posted at every gate. Guns in low-slung holsters at their waists but lazy-looking, and wearing sunglasses — behind which they were probably dozing. But I was through making risky assumptions. At least, for the moment.
All these safety measures to protect the private jets of the rich and famous. And we were about to hijack one of them. I wondered if the owners had insurance. And then I spotted the corporate logo on the jet we’d targeted. And on the one next to it.
Philip Morris. Oh, yeah. The owners of these babies had insurance. Lots of it.
I shrugged. “No time. Ticktock. Back to basics: We make a run for it.”
“I so knew you were going to say that.” Marco turned to Ax and Tobias. “I knew she was going to say that.”
“On the count of three, guys. One. Two. THREE!”
We were off!
Scrambling up the first fence, fingers grasping, sneakers jamming into then out of too-small toeholds. No electric jolt but plenty of barbed wire at the top. Launching ourselves over the prickly coils and dropping to the ground on the other side.