Chapter 7 (Joe)
Actually, at that point I was still unconscious. I can only assume I was in the boot of the patrol car, since I came to a few times in a dark, cramped space, but for all I could tell you, I could have been in someone's tool shed. I was never able to stay awake long enough to actually take notice of much before I went under again. Did they drug me? I couldn't tell you. I don't remember them drugging me, but like I said, my memory of that particular road trip was already pretty sketchy. It could have happened.
When I finally came to properly, the first thing I realised was that I was completely free to move around. My wrists and ankles were free. I forced myself into a sitting position and rubbed my eyes wearily. For a blissful second I forgot that I was now a kidnap victim and thought I was in my bed at home. No such luck.
Looking about, I saw I was surrounded by bare, concrete walls. It could have been someone's basement. I just let my head droop between my knees. What was the point of trying to escape? They'd just catch me again. They did it before.
Suddenly, above my head, there was a crackle. Like an intercom. "Andalite. Give us no reason to harm you, or we will do so without hesitation."
"Anda…what? What have I ever done to you guys?" Did these guys really believe all this alien stuff? Had I stepped on some secret word and they thought I was some part of this nutso game? Well, they had a surprise coming to them.
"Silence!" I scowled at the floor, having nothing else to scowl at. The speaker continued, "If you attempt to morph, we have Hork-Bajir outside who would be glad to step in and hand your lifeless body to Visser 3."
"Visser 3?" I stood up, finally getting towards the end of my tether. "What the hell is wrong with you guys? Do you think I'm some kind of alien come to kill you all?" I was yelling now, and my voice echoed throughout my small prison.
I waited for the speaker to speak again, but to my immense surprise the door flew open with a bang and someone stepped through it. Not Jones or Smith, but Chapman. Vice Principle Chapman! I mean hey! Nobody told me Chapman was going to be here! A teacher working at my school! Oh, man. Heaven help me.
He glared at me and I glared back at him. "Chapman?"
"Say nothing to me!" His voice burned with something I'd never heard before. Hate. Pure and utter hatred. I would have stepped backwards, but I had my back to the wall. There was nowhere to go. "Don't speak, you Andalite filth!" He spat the words as though I was lower than scum.
I raised an eyebrow. "And I'm happy to see you too."
He raised the gun he held. He gripped it so firmly that his knuckles were white, and held it trained at my forehead. "I'm warning you. The Visser wants you alive, but he would just as readily take you dead." He let go of a nervous chuckle. "Put up your hands."
Nervously I raised my hands to my head and laced my fingers behind my neck, all the while keeping my eyes trained on that gun. He wasn't so wacko that he'd shoot me – was he? I honestly didn't want to be here long enough to find out.
Still keeping the gun trained on me, Chapman turned to the door and called, "In!" I could, so imagine him calling a kid into his office that way. Who was to come in, I had no idea. Until a few seconds later, that is.
I instinctively flattened against the wall when the 'Hork-Bajir', as Chapman had so nicely put it, came lumbering through the door. They were like… I can't really compare them to anything you'd have ever seen before. They stood upright on these freaky looking legs that looked like they had once belonged to some poor mutant dog. Like the knees had been wrenched back the wrong way. They had feet like a Tyrannosaurus Rex. Deadly, as though they had been built to kill. Or scare the living daylights out of some poor defenceless kid. And then there were the arms. The arms… they looked like they could reach out and grab my throat from where they were standing. At least, it seemed that way to me. You wouldn't think these guys needed much balance, but they had this huge, scaly tail too.
Oh, did I mention the blades? Evil-looking horn-blades growing out of the freaky knees, ankles, elbows, wrists and the tails. All together, a scary species, don't you think?
I shivered.
"You've never seen Hork-Bajir before, Andalite?" Said Chapman cruelly. He said the word 'Andalite' like it was a curse. Apparently the 'Andalites' were a problem for Chapman and the… 'Hork-Bajir'. Scary.
He went on, "You must have led a sheltered life then Andalite, if you have never seen a Hork-Bajir. Or are you just afraid?"
I was tempted to say something sarcastic, but stopped myself. I was willing to bet that sarcasm was going to get me killed here. And since there were three living weapons right there in the room…
Chapman motioned for the Hork-Bajir to stay where they were and came up to me. He paused beside me for a moment, as though contemplating whether or not he would be safe doing whatever he was about to do next. Having, it seemed, decided, he grabbed a handful of my hair. He yanked me so that I fell onto my knees and then he crouched down and whispered in my ear, "We know where the bandits are Andalite. We know who they are. We know everything about them right down to where they live and what their surnames are. Give us some confirmation and we may let you live." With that he threw my head back against the wall and stood up. "How about it?"
I put a hand to the back of my head. "I can't tell you what I don't know. I'm just a kid."
"Your morph is 'just a kid'. You are an Andalite, are you not?" I could tell it was a rhetorical question. He wasn't waiting for an answer. I answered anyway.
"I don't know what an Andalite is. I didn't even know the word existed until about five minutes ago, and you told me that! Ask me to spell it and you'd be disappointed."
"I didn't ask you to spell it." Chapman paused. "How do you know the word Yeerk if you don't know anything else I'm asking you about?"
I sighed. "I made that word up in my English class this morning. It doesn't mean anything. I don't know anything."
"Face it Andalite. You revealed yourself. You made a mess of it. You'll have to demorph within the two-hour time limit. The Visser is going to kill you all."
With that, Chapman and his cronies walked out of the room. Leaning against the wall I pondered. What had just happened? I made up a word, got kidnapped and threatened, by what? Aliens? Yeah, right. But then, stranger things are supposed to have happened around here. It was just the feeling you get from a place like this. It leaves you feeling weird.
The last straw was when he came back in and turned out the light. I heard him slam the door behind him and I heard a key grate in the lock. I'm not afraid of the dark or anything, but I just don't like not being able to see three feet in front of me when there's some wacko wandering around with a gun.