Animorphs: The Fugitives

This story takes place fairly early on in the series (round about books 15/16/17). It introduces some brand new characters, who are the stars of the story, rather than Jake, Ax and the other Animorphs themselves. So I'll warn you now that it's not for die-hard Canon fans. The story is set in K. A. Applegate's world of the war between the Yeerks and Humans/Andalites. It uses all the rules for morphing, and even introduces a few new ideas. It's the story of a group of strangers, who get abducted by aliens, and find themselves thrust into the middle of a terrifying war. Their mission: Find the Animorphs whilst on the run from Visser Five. There's going to be four stories in all, each told by a different member of the team. This first one's by Samantha.

Introduction

My name is Samantha. My name is Samantha Goddard. I can tell you this because it doesn't matter who knows. The Yeerks know everything there is to know about me. And if they don't know, they will know soon enough. The Yeerks know my name. They know my age. They know what school I went to, where I live, my national insurance number, my bank details, my school grades, my favourite food, my…shoe size! So what I tell you about myself and several of my friends doesn't matter because the Yeerks already know. Yeerks. Evil, mind controlling aliens with a view to infest the whole of humanity. And they would do anything – anything – to get their hands on us. Which is why we're on the run.

Let me back up a little. At least set the mood a bit before I tell you the whole story before I've even started.

Have you ever wondered what it would be like to escape your life? Quit your job or school or whatever? Get out of the boring, humdrum, grey life of todays' society? You know why all those big Hollywood flash-bang-special effects adventures are so popular? It's because of that need to escape reality. School kids, office workers, people in dead-end jobs or a future of nothing but ten years of homework, studying and exams, and then forty years of work to look forward to – they're the ones who love this sort of stuff. Those who look for something more meaningful in life. Be a cop. Be a secret agent. Go time-travelling. There's very few people who do get this opportunity, and their names are usually Tom Cruise or Bruce Willis. Or even Samantha Goddard. And like me, Samantha, they sometimes get abducted by aliens.

"Ok," you think. "Someone go and fetch this girl a straitjacket. She needs a padded cell, and fast!"

Well let me assure you, I'm not mad. I'm probably one of the most level headed girls you'll ever meet, even if I say so myself. And I want to let you all know, that everything I'm about to tell you is true. It's a story of an adventure, packed with plenty of danger. A tale of fugitives on the run – with a couple of brain-infesting aliens and special powers thrown in for good measure. This morning, I was your average English senior school student having breakfast and reluctantly waiting for the post to arrive with my dreaded exam results. And now, all my priorities and my whole perception of reality have been transformed.

Chapter 1

The walls exploded behind me. A shockwave, trembling beneath me. The sound of the explosion echoed around the small, square room in which I and several other strangers were being held. Fire engulfed the room, the heat chasing the fire, scorching the bare skin on my body like a dragon breathing on my face. Sheets of plastic and metal from the walls curled and broke off, flaking into the air. They entered my mouth. I coughed, trying desperately not to choke on them.

"Help!" I cried. Every breath was torture. "Someone…get us out of here! Can anyone else…hear me!"

"Arrgghhh!" I thought I heard another voice through the explosions, answering my cries. It was faint - I wasn't totally sure if I'd even head it, but I knew there were others in the room with me, and I needed to know if they were still alive. I tried to move, but my wrists and ankles were pined down to the table by some kind of shackle. I called out again, lifting my head from the metal table on which I was lying, trying to locate the source of the scream. All I could see was air full of dust and smoke, and flames dancing around the small room. Large, shadowy shapes moving in the hallway to the left of me. More bangs, more explosions. What sounded like lasers being fired. A piece of debris fell towards me. I pulled against the thick metal restraints that strapped me to the table, trying to dodge it. The debris – which was what looked the burnt remains of a car gearstick – landed on the table, brushing my already burned hand, before falling to the floor. In fact, most of my body was boasting burns of some degree or another. I looked down and was surprised to see I wasn't wearing the clothes that I was this morning, but a rather dodgy looking quasi-futuristic ensemble. A tight, white, sleeveless top, like a boob-tube. An almost identical garment took the role of skirt. Very nasty indeed. Definitely not the Prada look. And far too revealing for my liking. But, despite this, no embarrassment registered. There were far too many distractions to take my mind off my clothing – like the fact that it seemed like a few minutes ago I was eating Cheerios in the kitchen and thinking that I might have failed biology. And now, of course, I was strapped to a table in the centre of a burning room, whilst huge, seven-foot shadows ran up and down the corridors outside.

"Help!" The voice! There was defiantly another person alive in the room! A wave of adrenaline surged through my body, giving me the strength to respond. I coughed again, clearing my windpipe.

"Is someone there?" I called. "Is someone coming to help?" I listened, trying to block out the crashes and rumbles of the fire-engulfed spaceship and searching for the human voice.

Another explosion. Smaller, this time. A shot, from some kind of large firearm. Nothing like the huge earthquake-like damage the earlier explosion has caused. But it did not stop a two-foot wide hole appearing in the ceiling above me. "Ahh!" I yelped and cursed as a chunk of metal missed me by inches. However, as I forced my red and tear-blurred eyes to look upwards, I noticed that the hole had created a kind of vacuum – a suction to the room on the next floor. I felt the hot air around me lessen as it was rose upwards into the space above me. The room cleared a little as the dust was sucked upwards. It gave me a clearer view of the room, and made it easier to distinguish different sounds.

"Arrgghhh!" The cry! I heard it again! I tilted my head towards the sound. Another person, a guy, it seemed was lying on his back on a table. Strapped to it – just like I was, and wearing the same weird costume I was – minus the top.

"Hey, you alright?" I shouted. The guy beside me struggled to respond. He seemed to be in a lot of pain, too.

"Just," the guy answered. "The heat… can't stand it." The guy sounded worse than I did. I had to find a way to escape the restraints, to get the others out of this furnace.

"Are you hurt?" I shouted. Dumb question. Of course he was hurt. Anyone with one hundred metres of the explosion would be hurt - burnt, cut, thrown or grazed. Blood ran down my face from a deep gash in my forehead. I could taste it in my mouth. I spat it out and tried again. "Are you injured badly?"

"My leg…it hurts!" the guy gasped. I rolled over, as much as the straps would allow me. The smoke was clearing, and I could make out clearer shapes in the room. I turned towards the guy beside me. His right leg seemed to have a nasty burn just below the knee. But, as I peered through the dust at his left leg, I swear I almost passed out. A gaping gash, almost a foot long, had opened up in his leg. I could see the whitish-red of the blood-stained bone beneath the skin. I resisted the urge to gag. "You'll be ok." I tried to encourage the guy. His wound was serious, but there was nothing I could do about it. All I could do was try and keep him conscious – by keeping him talking. "What's your name?"

"Philip," said the guy. "Philip Lawless."

"Do you know anyone else here?" I asked.

"Ferdie – my brother!" Philip choked. "Heard him a second ago…I need to… get him out of here!"

"Where is he?" I asked. His voice was becoming more erratic.

"Think…he's on the table next to me. There's…another girl too."

"We're both ok, I think!" Another voice, a different voice. It must have been the guy's brother, Ferdie.

The voices were weak and faint, but it was becoming easier to hear. The explosions and crashes were starting to die down. Whoever – or whatever – it was that was causing the rumpus were obviously retreating. Or perhaps winning. Possibly even dying. I had almost no idea what was going on outside the walls of this room. I stretched my neck up as far as I could and gazed through the slowly disappearing dust to the other side of the room. Sure enough, I could just make out the shadows of two further figures, both lying on metal examination tables just like me and the guy next to me. We seemed to be in a line – three figures to the left of me and another table to my right, although no one lay on that table.

"We'll get out of here", I shouted to whoever could hear me. It was very difficult to hold any kind of conversation with three strangers strapped to tables in the middle of a burning room. "Does anyone know what's going on? Where are we?"

"The last… thing I …remember, we…." Philip trailed off.

"Hey!" I shouted, trying not to panic. I could just make out Philip's lips moving, but he wasn't making any sound. He was loosing consciousness. He closed his eyes and gasped for air. There was nothing more I could do for now, apart from finding a way to escape. I rolled over, ignoring the stabbing pain of my red, tender skin, and tried to catch the eye of the guy named Ferdie and the girl next to him. "Can either of you two move? I mean, are you both still strapped down?"

Ferdie answered. "Neither of us can move!" His voice was plumy, posh. Funny how you notice things like that when strange figures are shooting at each other in the corridor. He looked over at his brother, and cried out when he saw his leg. "What's happened to my brothers' leg! Good god, is he ok? I should think…jeez! What on earth is that?" Ferdie gasped, as he turned his face away from his brother and towards the hallway. I wondered what could distract his from his brother's lifeless form, but, I swear, when I saw when Ferdie was looking at, my jaw actually dropped, like a scene from a cheesy B-movie.