Helping hands were reaching, trying to save Rachel from the crazed, out-of-control bird. She gave me a heave. Just enough to get me into the air. Anyone watching would have thought she was trying to get me off her.
I flapped up, just out of reach of a dozen hands that clawed the air trying to grab me. Someone threw a shopping bag at me. I dodged.
But there was no escape. Overhead I saw the skylight. Blue sky.
The hawk in my head wanted the sky. It knew safety was up in the high blue. The hawk powered straight up. Straight up at the glass that he didn’t understand. The glass that would be like a brick wall.
But I couldn’t fight it anymore. The hawk had won. I had killed. I had killed and eaten. And I had loved it. The ecstasy of the hunt.
Ecstasy!
In a second it would all be over. One more stroke of my powerful wings and the glass …
Out of the comer of my eye I saw a familiar face on the upper level. Suddenly something shot past me. Small, white, stitched.
CRASH!
The baseball hit the glass just inches ahead of my beak. Just where Marco had aimed it. Glass shards fell around me. I shot through the hole.
Sky!
The hawk flew fast and straight.
I let it go. I surrendered.
Tobias, a boy whose face I could no longer remember, no longer existed.
CHAPTER 16
The next few days were like a long, slow dream. I stayed away from Jake’s house. I did not communicate with my friends. I disappeared.
I found a place for myself. It was perfect redtail territory—the place where I had made my first kill. A nice meadow surrounded by trees. Not far off there was a marshy area that was good, too. Although there was another redtail who had a territory over there, so I couldn’t hunt there often.
I spent my days hunting. Sometimes I would ride the high, hot winds and watch the meadow. Sometimes I would sit in a tree and watch till some unwary creature ventured out. Then I would swoop down on it, snatch it up, kill it. Eat it while the blood was still warm.
Days were easier than nights. During the day I was hunting almost all the time. It keeps you busy, because most of the time you miss. It can take quite a few tries before you make a kill.
Nights were worse. I couldn’t hunt at night. The nights belong to other predators, mostly the owls. At night my human mind would surface.
The human in my head would show me memories. Pictures of human life. Pictures of his friends. The human in my head was sad. Lonely.
But the human Tobias really just wanted to sleep. He wanted to disappear and let the hawk rule. He wanted to accept that he was no longer human.
Still, at night, as I sat on my familiar branch and watched the owls do their silent, deadly work, the human memories would play in my head.
But other memories were there, too. I remembered the female hawk. The one who had been in the cage. I knew where her territory was. Near a clear lake in the mountains.
So one day I flew there. To the mountain lake.
I saw her down on a tree branch. She was watching a baby raccoon, preparing to go for a kill. She would have to be very hungry to go for a raccoon, no matter how small. Raccoons are very tough, very violent creatures.
As I watched, unnoticed by her, she swooped.
The raccoon spotted her. A quick dodge left, and the hawk sailed harmlessly past. The baby raccoon ran for the edge of the woods. His mother was there.
No hawk was crazy enough to go after a full-grown raccoon. That was not a fight the hawk was going to win.
She settled back on her branch.
I floated overhead, waiting to see if she would spot me. And waiting to see what she would do when she did notice me. I had to be cautious. She was a female, and females are a third bigger, on average, than males.
Suddenly I saw fast movement in the woods.
A chase!
It was always kind of exciting watching a kill, even by another species. It heightened my own hunting edge.
The prey was running awkwardly on its two legs. Running and threading its way through the underbrush. It stumbled and hit the ground hard. It seemed very slow to get up. It ran again.
I could hear gasping breath. It was weakening. The prey was squealing. Loud, yelping vocalizations.
Prey often squeal.
The predator moved on two legs also. But these legs were built for greater speed. It had blades growing from its arms. It used the blades to slash the bushes and weeds. It cleared its way through them like a lawn mower chopping down tall grass.
Lawn mower?
No. Something else. SaladShooter. Yes, that’s what Marco called them.
Marco? The image came to my mind. Short. Dark hair. Human.
It hit me like a lightning bolt. Suddenly I realized: This prey was a human.
Why should I care? It was prey. That was the way it worked: Predator killed prey.
NO! It was a human being.
“Help! Help!” That was the vocalization. It meant something. “Help! Help me!”
The predator was very close. In a few seconds he would make his kill. The predator was powerful. The predator was swift.
Hork-Bajir.
“Help me, someone help!”
I don’t know how to describe what happened next. It was like my entire world flipped over. Like one minute it was one thing, one way, then, boom, it was something totally different. It was like opening your eyes after a dream.
The prey was a human being. The predator was a Hork-Bajir. This was wrong. Wrong! It had to be stopped.
I stopped.
A few seconds earlier I was thinking that no sane hawk would go after a full-grown raccoon. Now I was going after a Hork-Bajir. Hork-Bajir compare to raccoons like a nuclear bomb compares to a bow and arrow.
It would have to be the eyes. The eyes were the only weak spot.
“Tseeeeer!”
I rocketed toward the Hork-Bajir. The human slipped and fell again.
Talons forward. The Hork-Bajir was totally focused on his prey. I hit him fast and hard and sailed past.
“Gurrawwwrr!” the Hork-Bajir yelled. He clutched at his eyes.
The human was up and running again.
“Gurr gafrasch! To me! Getting away! Hilch nahurrn!” the Hork-Bajir yelled, in the strange combination of human and alien speech that they use when working with humans.
He was calling for help. I used my momentum to soar up over the tops of the trees. He had plenty of help available. Another Hork-Bajir about a thousand yards off. And two of the bogus Park Rangers were nearer.
It was all coming back to me. The fake Park Rangers. The Hork-Bajir enforcers. This was the lake. A Yeerk supply ship must be on its way in.
Yeerks. Andalites.
My friends, the Animorphs.
Yes, my friends. I remembered now. But this human was not one of them. This human prey was older. A stranger.
The freed hawk was watching me. I could almost feel her drawing me toward her. It was like a magnet. She was my kind. She was like me.
But the Park Rangers were in hot pursuit of the human now. The human was nothing like me. Poor, clumsy ground runner that he was. He was just prey.
And yet, for some reason, I couldn’t let him be prey.
I couldn’t. Me.
Tobias.
CHAPTER 17
I landed on the perch outside Rachel’s window. It was night. But she wasn’t asleep. She was reading a book in bed, propped up by several pillows.
I fluttered a wing against the glass.
She started. The book went flying. She jumped up and ran to the window, throwing it open.
“Tobias?”
She started to hug me, to put her arms around me. But then she realized that wasn’t possible. Birds aren’t exactly made for hugging.
“Are you okay? We’ve all been terrified. Cassie said maybe you were killed or something. There
are all kinds of things that can happen. Jake is so depressed.”
Now that she was sure I was safe, she started getting mad. It made me smile inwardly. That was Rachel for you.
“Tobias, what is the deal with you? Why would you just disappear and leave us all worrying for days?”
I don’t know how I expected her to react. She tried to look sympathetic, but I could see it bothered her.
I admitted.
“What?” She went to check her door and make sure neither of her sisters was nearby. I could hear that the house was quiet. “What happened?”
I told her about going to the lake. I told her about the guy being chased by Hork-Bajir.
“You talked to him?”
Rachel looked stunned. “But now he knows about you! And he knows about the Hork-Bajir.”
Rachel laughed. “Yeah, good point. People would just think he was insane. Besides, if he started talking openly about the Yeerks, they would find him and silence him.”
“You saved him,” Rachel said.
I admitted.
Rachel thought about that for a moment. “The Yeerks and their slaves aren’t killing to eat,” she said. “They are killing to control and dominate. Killing because it’s the only way you can eat, because that’s the way nature designed you, that’s one thing. Killing because you want power or control is evil.”
I said.
“What you did … eating … you know, whatever. Well, that’s natural for the hawk. Nothing a Hork-Bajir does is natural. They aren’t even in control of their own bodies or minds. They are tools of the Yeerks. And the Yeerks only want power and domination.”
I said. But I wasn’t totally convinced. Still, it was comforting to be talking to Rachel.
“You are human, Tobias,” she told me softly.
Rachel looked like she might start crying. It was alarming to me, because Rachel isn’t a girl who bursts out in tears, ever.
She smiled. “What do you mean? It was perfect. I was just starting my routine, and you know how much I hate to have to do public shows like that. You put an end to the whole thing real fast.”
I laughed silently.
“No, everyone was fine. But what were you going to do if Marco had missed with that baseball? You would have hit the glass awfully hard.”
I didn’t know what to say.
Rachel came closer and stroked my crest with her hand. It made the hawk in me uncomfortable. But at the same time, it was similar to preening, which is kind of pleasurable.
“What I told you the other day, Tobias … remember? You’re not lost as long as you have Jake and Cassie and me. Even Marco. He came through for you, big time. We’re your friends. You’re not alone.”
I think I would have cried then. But hawks can’t cry.
“And someday, the Andalites will come… .”
“We don’t have to go through with that,” Rachel said.
CHAPTER 18
The next day, we went ahead with the mission. I flew cover overhead while four gray wolves ran beneath me. We timed it so we would arrive in the area very early in the morning, many hours before the Yeerks would arrive to hunt intruders.
I didn’t have to explain any more. I think everyone guessed how I knew that skunks ran in there to get away from predators.
I was carrying a tiny nylon pouch that Rachel had put together. It was tan in color, so a casual observer wouldn’t notice it and wonder why a red-tailed hawk was carrying luggage.
In the pouch was a small watch. It weighed almost nothing. There were also some fish hooks, fishing line, and a small lighter. Altogether it only weighed about two ounces. But it did slow me down a little.
We reached the cave with plenty of time to spare on the two-hour deadline.
I admitted.
I landed outside the entrance. The opening to the cave was no more than two feet across and about four feet high. It was easy for Jake and Rachel, in their wolf morphs, to leap nimbly through. Unless there really was a bear inside, they would scare off whatever might be in there.
I decided to try a joke.
Only Marco laughed. The others all acted like I’d said something embarrassing. Maybe I had.
A few minutes later they all came out. Marco was complaining, as usual. “You know, we r
eally have to figure out how to deal with the shoe situation,” he muttered. “Thorns and no shoes. Not a good combination.”
The four of them were barefoot and dressed only in their morphing outfits: leotards for the girls, bike shorts and tight T-shirts for Jake and Marco.
“We need to gather firewood,” Jake said, with his hands on his hips. “It wouldn’t hurt to warm that cave up a little before the Yeerks get here.”
“Don’t you love it when Jake’s all masterful like that?” Rachel teased.
“I’m just trying to get us organized,” Jake said defensively.
“We’d better get started fishing,” Cassie pointed out. “If we don’t catch a fish, we’re pretty much wasting our time.”
The plan was to morph into fish to enter the Yeerk ship’s water pipes. Of course, in order to morph into something, you first have to “acquire” it. Which means being able to touch it.
“Shouldn’t be any big problem,” Jake said confidently.
“Uh-huh,” Cassie said dryly. “And how many times have you gone fishing?”
“Counting this time? Once.” He laughed.
Cassie rolled her eyes. “Typical suburban boy,” she said affectionately. “It isn’t all that easy.”
“Take care of yourself, Tobias,” Rachel called out as I took wing.
I watched from on high as they made one failed attempt after another to convince a fish to bite one of our hooks.
It seemed ridiculous, but the entire plan was hanging on the question of whether or not we could catch a fish. And time was running out. The day wore on. Still no fish.
Jake was getting edgy. Rachel was downright cranky. And Marco? Forget Marco. “This is ridiculous!” he raged. “We’re four — I mean, five — fairly intelligent human beings. And we can’t outsmart one fish that probably has an IQ of four?”
Cassie was the only one remaining calm. “Fishing is a matter of skill and luck,” she said placidly. “A smart fisherman learns not to become frustrated.”
Jake looked at the little watch we’d brought along. “From what we know, the Yeerks will start arriving in an hour to clear the area.”
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