A/N: Hey guys! This just some copies of notes and ideas that i finnaly typed up. This is also my first submission here, and hopefully it wont be my last. I've got alot more from this story line and ill post it when i get it typed up. I cut it off where I did b/c i love it when ppl flame about cliffhangers and sudden endings. Glad to be part of the Animorph FanFiction community! But its like 4AM and my ass hurts. im oging to bed. Copyright K.A. Applegte for her universe (which i love) and all that jazz. this Jake is not "the" Jake but just a name i got attatched to. sorry for any confusion.
Long Island, summer, Jake P, Age 19
Sweet dreams are made of These…
Jake watches the news. Susan, Jordan, Gabby, and the parents too. A sleek, insectoid alien spaceship has landed on the Mall in Washington D.C. Human children, probably Susan's age, walked out. They were flanked by a large blue centaur, if that's what you could image to compare it to.
The camera view bumped around, fell out then back into focus. They were so far away. While the streets of D.C. descended into chaos, Jake's town was deathly still. Everyone was in front of a T.V. Once in a while a car's tires screeched as someone tore down the crescent road at top speed. Presumably to a church or a supermarket to stock up on food or spiritual goodwill.
Some people thought this was the End of the World. Some people were celebrating. What an event! Intelligent Life has been contacted. Or contacted us. They met with the President. He's still alive, so they must be negotiating. About what? I hope they're not playing hardball with the blue centaur. I hope it doesn't get pissed off easy. Diplomacy was never their strong point. Jake worried more and shifted loudly on the couch.
Some members of the Cabinet and Secret Service were filmed running out of the White House to their black Limos and SUVs. They had their guns unholstered.
Mom was calling the neighbors. Dad was pacing with his keys.
No shots were fired in the White House or in front of any cameras. Congress disbanded. Some senators were rushed into armored cars. Republicans from Florida, Democrats from New York, ran their bloated bodies full tilt and scattered, yelling "No comment" to the masses of reporters pacing them at their sides. It means nothing. I'd be doing the same thing.
Police had lined up around the gates outside the White House, decked out in riot gear. Tear gas, sonic cannons, and rubber bullets at the ready. The stuff of movies and epic stories. Domestic violence had exploded all over the country. Parents shooting children, children attacking their parents. People disappearing for no reason. Cell phone systems were overwhelmed with traffic within 30 minutes. Looting had begun in many major cities. It was only a matter of time before someone here gets the idea to take to the streets.
Then the bombshell. The President held an unscheduled press conference by walking out onto the stage, stopping the Press Secretary in midsentence. Secret Service men rushed the room, lining up facing the Press, guns ready. The president was shaken, pale, and visibly worn down. How could he not be?
To the reporters and the whole world he told of the Invasion.
Yeerks.
War.
Infestation, infiltration. For years we had been deceived, the aliens had been among us, slowly absorbing power and increasing their numbers. How? They are parasites. Is that the proper term for what They are? Neural predators. Body snatchers of the perfect design. They come into direct contact with a host's nervous center and override the victim's control of its body.
Total control.
Eyes, lungs, hands, everything. Even involuntary body functions like heart rate, sweat, tears…
And they are everywhere, the President says, practically in a whisper. It does not matter how loud he talked, 8 billion people hung on every quivering word.
"They are your doctor, your senator, your priest, your teacher." He choked a bit, collected, and looked directly into the camera:
"Your mother, your brother, your friend…"
A sudden gasp escaped the Press Secretary standing hands folded beside the President. Two secret servicemen pinned him to the floor. He screamed in anger, and struggled as the larger suited men restrained him. The President turned and backed away. Reporters jumped up obscuring the trio from view. The room erupted; flashes of light enveloped the stage. The small blue 'LIVE' square burned in the upper left corner of the screen. Different camera angle now, facing down. A service member pulled a gun on a reporter who rushed the stage. The servicemen produced a gun from the belt of the press secretary. Why was he armed? Did he try to pull it on the President?
"Filth! Andalite Filth!" he roared.
Another man howled and rushed the stage. Two more men tackled him, but not before he fired two shots onto the stage, one hit the Press Secretary; the second missed the President, who was immediately rushed from the room.
A young woman in a grey shirt cried "Visser! I'm so sorry!", turned and fired off stage after the President. Another serviceman joined her and fired on whoever was behind the curtains, instead. Back to main camera.
Pandemonium. Then enter the wild animals.
A tiger and a wolf joined the fray.
The tiger leapt clear over the podium, scattering grey shirt lady and insane secret serviceman. The wolf pounced on the woman, biting her around the neck, staining the shirt maroon. The camera jumped. Something hit it. More men rushed the room, and a flash of blue and chrome appeared on the left side, cutting down a man in uniform. The screen went to standby.