I went cold from head to toe, like someone had dumped a huge bucket of ice water over me. I'd known—I'd known that she was gone. But hearing the words Iher body/I brought it home somehow. Made it real.
Part of me wanted to sway on my feet and my mother stepped forward to hug me. I backed a half-step and stiffened my back, hating myself for the hurt look on her face. "Where…where are they taking her—body?" The word was hard to say, but I kept my voice level. Tobias was heartbroken. Jake had fallen apart. Ax didn't know our customs. Marco was…Marco. One of us had to handle this.
One of us Animorphs.
Maybe I was just glad for something to do, too. I accused Rachel once of enjoying the war, of living for it. But I wasn't too sure what to do now either, if I was honest.
My parents looked at me blankly. "We…we didn't…"
I turned on my heel and walked out for a second time that day. Honestly, I didn't know what had gotten into me, but I couldn't seem to stop. As I'd expected, there was someone standing guard right outside the door. Two Marines, in camouflage, fully armed. I still had my morphing clothes on, and I had left the shoes in the bathroom when I morphed earlier. Nonetheless, they turned stiffly and saluted. "Good evening, Ma'am."
I wasn't really sure how to respond to that, so I nodded politely before continuing. "Did General Doubleday survive the attack?"
"Yes, Ma'am. The General assigned us to your detail."
I nodded a second time, decision firming. "I need to speak to him. I'll get changed and be back shortly." I turned and went back into the hotel room, looking at my parents. They had the sort of half-guilty look people get when they were talking about you. "Mom, do we have any other clothes here?" I didn't want to meet Doubleday in my dirty, torn morphing suit, although I would if I had to.
She nodded once, standing up and wiping her eyes a bit. "Yes. We had them get a few things while you were sleeping. It's not fancy, but it should fit, more or less." She leaned over to a dresser and pulled out some neatly folded clothes—blue jeans, a flannel shirt, socks—even clean underwear. "We've got shoes too."
I went and hugged her once, a bit fiercely, glad she'd thought of it. "I'm going to take a quick shower." I took the clothes and closed the door, glad to scrub off. My hair was going to be a real mess when I got to it, but I didn't want to take the time to re-braid it now, so I let it be. Mostly, I wanted to scrub the accumulated dirt of months in the woods off.
It took a while, and I probably ruined one of the hotel's white washcloths trying to get the blood out from under my nails, but I got it well enough. I dried off and changed into the clothes my mom had gotten.
When I was done, I came out to find my parents both looking serious and worried. "Where do you think you're going?" my mom asked.
I knew it was wrong. I knew it was the absolute wrong thing to do. But the entire situation was so utterly bizarre. We were in a hotel room that we could never have afforded, even before my parents' business was vaporized, with Marines standing outside, ready to salute a sixteen-year-old in a leotard because she'd just helped to take down an entire army, mostly with four other kids not old enough to vote and an teenage alien. And my parents were acting like they were about to ground me for failing a test.
I burst into laughter.
I laughed and I laughed, and I found I couldn't stop, could barely breathe from it. Then it turned into screaming, racking sobs, and my parents were there, hugging me tightly, holding me as my legs went out from under me. My father caught me, and I felt his strong arms guide me down to sit on the end of the bed, my mother rubbing my back. I leaned against my father, smelling aftershave that wasn't his, sobbing on and on into his chest, the way I hadn't since I was a little kid and broke my arm falling out of a tree. I felt my mom's tears fall on my shoulder too, as she held both of us close.
I don't really know how long I was like that. It felt like I was crying an ocean, but the tears kept coming. Eventually, they started to subside a little, turning into hiccups and sniffles. My mom grabbed a tissue box for me.
For a lot longer, I just stayed there. It was—different, letting them comfort me. I knew they still didn't really understand, but for so long, we'd all had to hide what was going on from our parents. It felt…not good, but a little less bad to be Cassandra Price instead of Cassie the Animorph for a little while.
But I also knew that I was still Cassie the Animorph. And I still had a job to do. I blew my nose and dried my eyes. The tears were still coming, and I forced myself to breathe and to control them. "I—" it took a minute to get my voice steady. "I need to go talk to General Doubleday and find out where they're going to take Rachel's body. I need to…make arrangements."
I pulled away from them, even though I wished I didn't have to. My dad's eyes were red too, but he looked confused. "Shouldn't that be Naomi's job?"
I shook my head, fighting down the urge to start laughing again. I didn't want to start that up again. "Naomi's Rachel's mom. But she was our…" Words failed me for a minute. I wasn't even sure what the right word was to use for Rachel. How did you describe someone you'd fought for and with for three years, someone who'd saved your life and who you'd saved more times than either of you could count. Someone who drove you crazy but you also didn't know how to live without? "Shorm. She was our shorm. One of us has to do this."
My dad nodded slowly. "Do you want us to come with you?"
I shook my head. "Not this time. But maybe you should get packed up. I think we'll be heading back to California soon."
I used a washcloth to help reduce the puffiness and redness of my eyes before I went out the door to talk to the Marines. If they'd heard anything or noticed anything, they didn't say anything. I was glad for that.
They escorted me and handed me off to other armed Marines who drove me to the Pentagon. I watched the traffic through the tinted windows. It wasn't as far as I'd imagined. We drove by the Washington monument, flooded with lights. Bats swooped around it, which made me smile slightly. It was basically an all-you-can-eat buffet for them—bugs would be drawn by the floodlights and the bats could just eat their fill. I'd been a bat before, watching the world like it was made up of flashes of outlines, like an animated storyboard being watched under strobe lights.
With my escort, we were able to bypass security and head into the place where Doubleday was. Honestly, I'd sort of imagined long black and white hallways with dramatic boardrooms, but mostly, it looked like a really nice office building.
General Doubleday was in a very nice office that was larger than the hotel room we were staying in, working on reports. I wondered, vaguely, if he was working here temporarily or if they'd given him this as a permanent office. Probably the second option. You come to the rescue of the entire planet, and people are probably happy to give you a promotion.
"Cassie. Sargent Ramirez said you wanted to speak to me." It wasn't a question.
I sat down and nodded. "My parents were told they found Rachel's body."
He nodded once, a sharp movement. "Yes. Captain-Prince Asculan informed us. They are waiting for instructions on what to do with it."
"Have them take it back to California. I'll need transportation for myself, my parents, and the other Animorphs and their families. We'll make the arrangements from there." I was a little surprised at myself, distantly, giving orders like that. But he just looked down and jotted down a few notes. "I'll have you picked up at 0600 tomorrow. Do you need anything else?"
"We'll need to find them all a temporary place to live until something more permanent can be managed." Our homes were all destroyed in the final attacks.
"We'll see to it," he said, and I stood to leave. "Cassie." I turned back, a little bit surprised that he'd called after me. We'd only worked together a little, really. He motioned for me to sit back down, and I did. For several minutes, we looked at each other.
I wondered what he saw.
Finally, he spoke. "I've been through three wars now. Vietnam. The Gulf. This mess. And here's what people who aren't soldiers don't know. You rely on your comrades in a way you never rely on any other person. Not a wife or husband. Not a parent. No one. It has to be that way, because you've got to be ready to die for them, and they've got to feel the same way. Even if you don't like each other, you still have to be ready to die for each other.
"When soldiers loose someone in their unit…it can mess people up badly. You depend on someone that heavily and then suddenly they're gone? People fall apart. If the commander isn't careful, the unit falls apart. And when you suddenly go back to civilian life, and no one really gets it? There's a reason why there are a lot of veterans living on the streets."
He flipped through a Rolodex, took out a small card, and copied down a name and phone number. "This is the contact information for a friend of mine. He works with a lot of veterans, especially ones who've lost someone. If you need it, call him. Tell him I sent you."
I nodded a little, and pocketed the card. "Thank you, General Doubleday." I wasn't sure if I'd ever use it but it was nice to have. Just in case.
For now, though, I wasn't quite done with the war. And I still had a duty to my friend and my team.
