They're coming! Don't freak out! In fact... they're here already! That's right! The Animorphs are already involved! You're just too blind to see it! MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHA! (thinks like they do in the books). Hah.
If you want to read a really fabulous list called 'you know you're addicted to Animorphs when', which details every possible example (with inside jokes that you wouldn't understand) to help you know if you are, in fact, addicted to animorphs, then go to my profile. YAY!
Chapter 10
"Come one, pick up! Pick up!" I walked quickly, pushing past the slow, shuffling people in my way. "PICK UP!"
I heard clicking, and a tired voice came on.
"Hello?"
"Ashline!"
"Hi mom."
"Are you okay?"
She paused. "Yeah. Why?"
I sighed in relief and looked up to heaven. "Never mind. I'm coming home soon. Lock the doors."
"Umm…okay…Oh, I cleaned the house real well."
"Why?"
"You said we were having company."
Shit!
"Right. I did. Okay, I'll be there as quick as I can. I love you!"
"Love you too mom."
She put the phone down.
How did he know all that? How did the man I talked to…who was not, in fact, Jacob Hoegen, know all that he told me? Was he part of the Yeerk Peace Movement? Did it even exist? Or was he just a government informant, maybe a spy?
And how did he know I have a daughter?
"If I were you, I would leave. Take your daughter. Things are going to get real shitty around here."
He must have meant the Yeerk attack. He must know they're planning something, something big. He MUST! Why was he telling me? Why didn't he go to someone important!
I'm just! A freaking! Journalist!
"Ah!" I said, smacking, in fury, the seat of the taxi I hurled myself into.
It's not my fight. It's not my problem. If the Yeerks are acting up, it's the government's chore to eradicate them. It's not my fight…
So why was I suddenly being brought into it?
But I knew. Deep in the crevices of all the suppressed memories I held…I was terrified. Not just for me. For my daughter as well.
I flew up the stairs. She was in danger. I was in danger. I knew this within me. If the yeerks attacked…
I fidgeted with my keys, trying to make my hands work right.
"Ashline!"
"What mom?"
I swept her up into a hug. "I love you."
"Gee mom…what's up?"
I held her back. "We're going to move again."
"Again!"
"Yes. As soon as possible."
"Why?" She whined up at me. "I have friends. It's the end of the school year!"
"Good. You can start fresh this fall."
"But mom!"
"No buts!" I said, suddenly with a headache. I kneeled down and took her by the hands. "Do you remember why we moved last time?"
"Yes," she conceded wearily, her eyes tearing up. "Some woman named Hope kept calling."
"That's right. We're…we're safer if we don't get calls from Hope, or anyone else. But mom's found out that someone might try to find us again. We have to move."
"But I don't want to!"
"I know, sweetheart…" I sighed, and hugged her again. "And I'm sorry it has to be this way. I'm sorry we can't just stay in one place. When you're older…when you're a lot older, I can tell you why we move a lot. Why we don't want…" I looked at her. "It's okay, Ashline. We'll get a nice flat with a view of the strait, I promise."
"By Central Park?" She asked.
"Sure. Central Park. You can play there every day after school. We can even get a dog."
I felt horrible, bribing her to be happy, to go along with me and my paranoia. I felt awful, like such a failure at a mother.
Why did my past keep coming to torment me?
But she smiled, and her eyes were no longer wet.
"Okay? Now go change your clothes into something nice. He should be here in an hour."
"Who's coming?" Ashline asked as she wandered to her room.
"A friend of mine. We used to work together. His name is Alex."
She changed and cleaned her room as I put together a meager attempt at dinner, all the while distracted by my disturbing interview, and the heavy weight of the decision of moving.
This dinner was the only meal I knew how to cook correctly: fancy salad, barbecued steaks, store bought French bread, string beans…nothing too special.
The doorbell rang exactly at six, as if he'd been waiting outside and counting down the seconds. Which, of course, he probably had…
"Good evening," Alex said, handing me flowers. White lilies.
"What am I going to do with all these?" she asked, leaning into him. "My parents will kill me if they see this!"
She gestured to her room, filled with bouquets and bouquets of white lilies, intoxicating them with their scent.
"I can't think," she breathed, high on the spicy, sweet smell of the lovely white flowers.
"Then don't," he whispered, pulling her forward to meet him…
I took them from him, trying my hardest not to show emotion.
How dare he…
"Come in," I said, leading him into my living room. "Ashline! He's here!"
Ashline came out of her room quickly, wanting to meet the stranger, but still incredibly shy…
I felt his intake of breath.
"She's beautiful, Taylor," he whispered to me. "She looks just like…just like you…" I heard bitterness.
Let him be bitter.
"My name's Ashline," my daughter said solemnly.
"My name is Alex," he said, glancing at me, and putting his hand out to shake hers, making her laugh.
"Well, come on," I said, walking into my kitchen and making sure they sat on the stools.
Ashline was off and away after a few minutes though, bored with our small, strained chitchat.
"What's wrong, Taylor?" he asked after a few seconds of silence.
"Nothing," I said, bringing out two wineglasses.
"You can't lie to me. Nine years, a hundred…I can tell something's up."
I sighed. "I had a strange day."
I poured wine into the glasses, trying to keep my hands steady, wishing I didn't have to discuss the interview.
"Me too. Work was…interesting…they think the Yeerks are planning an attack on New York. A big one. Much bigger than the rumors all over the Times."
Alex studied my reaction, but I was careful to make my face blank.
How had 'Jacob' known? Why did he warn me?
"Rachel," he said warningly, as I turned away to put the bottle of wine back. "I know about your story."
"What about it?"
"You know something. Something that's got you terrified."
"I don't know anything," I said defiantly, taking out a knife to slice up the bread.
"How did your interview with Mr. Hoegen go today?"
I sliced too hard, hitting the counter.
"Alex, shut up!" I hissed. "How did you know?"
"Government ops." He spread his hands, as if to be funny, but his face was serious. "So they're after the Animorphs."
I sank down against the counter, face buried in my hands and hair.
"I can't do it," I whispered, as I felt his hands on my arms. "I didn't want the story. Now they're…"
All the confusion and dread and pain of the last few days washed over me. I didn't cry. I stopped crying a long time ago. But I felt nauseous, sick, violently sick…
"He warned me," I said vehemently. "He told me to leave. To take Ashline. God, Alex, how did he know?"
"We couldn't trace him," he said apologetically. "I don't know. Only he knows. The only thing I can tell about him is that he's not with the government, or we'd know what he knows. He's got to be Yeerk."
"Then why did he talk to me?"
"YPM."
"The peace movement can't exist! There's only two thousand of them!"
"Peace is everywhere," he reminded me. "You just have to find it."
"Alex, I don't know what to do," I said. "I'm leaving. I've already told Ashline. We have to get out of here. Especially before the Anniversary. There's only five days left!"
"I know. That's one of the reasons I came to see you in the first place. I knew you were in danger. I wanted to help."
"Why didn't you tell me the first time you saw me?" I asked, struggling out of the arms that threatened to hug me.
"It wasn't right. It wasn't time. I needed to see if you…were you. If you were safe. Not a Controller."
I laughed harshly. "Great."
We were silent, the mood heavy. The back round sounds of the TV Ashline was watching drowned out the feelings of awkwardness.
"I'm flying out tomorrow, then," I said. "If it's as bad as I think it is."
"How bad do you think it is? What all do you know?"
"After dinner," I said. "I can't do this right now."
We ate. It was pathetic, a mimic of a real dinner party, but we ate. Talked small talk. Listened to Ashline's day. Did the dishes.
Finally, she retired to her TV again, and we were alone.
"I know they're strong, much stronger than anyone suspected. I know they're planning to strike on the Anniversary. And I know they want the Animorphs out of the way. And I know they already know where one is."
"Which one?" His voice was urgent. "I haven't heard that part."
"I don't know. Just one of them. One is enough."
"Yes." Alex slumped. "One is enough." He looked at the clock. Almost eight.
"Short party," he laughed. "Not even two hours. But I have to go."
"Wait!" I said, stopping him. "What do I do tomorrow?"
"Nothing. Be normal. Go into the office. Around four, come home, pick up Ashline from day care. Go straight to the airport. Fly away."
"Fly away…" I whispered. "Ashline has a field trip tomorrow. They're going to see the Trade Towers Memorial."
"I've been there," he said, half-smiling.
"I know," I said quietly. "I saw you there."
He frowned.
"What do I do? Do I let her go on the field trip?"
Alex frowned deeper. "I don't see why not. To not let her go would be suspicious. Besides…why would any Yeerks want to attack her?"
"Just a mother's caution," I said with a half-laugh.
He said goodnight to Ashline, and we walked to the door.
"Here's my cell number in case you need me in an emergency." He looked out at Ashline as I put it in my pocket. "She really is beautiful," he said, gazing at her from a distance. "I never expected you to be a mom. I wish…"
"I don't," I said, stopping his whimsical look. "I'm sorry. You've been wonderful. I'm grateful for all the help. But you have to remember: once this is over, I'm done. I just want to be left alone. Ashline needs to grow up without me fearing what's going to happen to us."
"Soon," he said. "With this new information, my department can zero in on the yeerks. Stop them. Forever! Genocide…you could finally feel safe."
I shook my head. "Not the point. Very nice, but not the point…"
"Well goodnight, then, Taylor," he said, making to hug me.
"No," I said, offering my hand. "I don't want that…"
He shook my hand solemnly, sadly, then turned and walked away.
