SLAM. Ow.
I grinned nervously at the guys standing around me. They were enormous – I think the meaty one pinning me against the locker was a solid six foot four, and probably two hundred fifty pounds. His name was Jimmy Jones, and he was the offensive tackle for the school football team. Unfortunately, he was also the guy I'd just compared to a Neanderthal.
"I didn't mean it in a bad way," I tried. "You know, the brain capacity of a caveman was, like, twice as much as a modern human. Plus they were way strong from hunting mammoths and stuff. So, actually, it's sort of a compliment –"
"Dude," the quarterback said. I waited for him to continue, but I guess that was it.
Jimmy glared at me. "Look, I'm not no Neanderthal. Obviously, you got no idea about biology, 'cause people used to be real short. I'm sure as hell not the dinky midget here, okay?" Okay, that was low. No pun intended.
"Yeah, I guess I'm the caveman. Look, I'm sorry, okay?" Where was Jake when you needed him?
"Caveman? Neanderthals didn't live in no caves, man. The textbook says they were, like, nomads. They didn't have no cave houses or nothing. I might have to kill you for being so stupid." I guess the Yeerks have to get in line. Fighting razor-covered T. Rexes was looking more appealing by the minute.
"Right, right. I stink at science. Or history. Or whatever. I'm a really dumb dwarf. So all I've got is my looks. Please spare my face, okay?" Maybe a really lame attempt at humor would work. Turning into a gorilla would work better, but probably wasn't advisable, given that the Yeerks had this thing where they were dead-set on killing the 'Andalite bandits'.
Jimmy rolled his eyes. "Whatever, man. Just don't go calling me a Neanderthal again. You're lucky I'm in a good mood today." He released me, turned, and walked off with most of his posse. I breathed in relief. I sure wasn't making fun of him again – at least not to his face.
One of the tight ends seemed to think I'd gotten off easy, as did a runningback. At least that's what I assumed, since they were moving towards me and had some seriously scary looks on their faces. I cast a desperate look around the locker room, and got lucky: Jake had just come in.
"Hey," I said to the football players. "Anything you want in particular? See, the way you're in my personal bubble is making me uncomfortable. And I know I'm adorable and all, but you're not my type, so I'd really appreciate it if you backed off a few steps."
It took them a few seconds to respond. "Are you calling us gay?" One asked, after a few seconds.
"No," I told them, completely sincere. "That would be incredibly offensive to gay people."
The runningback made a weird growling noise, and both football players took a few steps closer. Jake shot me a death glare, but still stepped between me and the angry people who wanted to kill me.
He looked up at the athletes, who had at least a hundred pounds on him, and spoke in a calm voice. "I'd appreciate it if you'd back off."
"You got a death wish?" The tight end loomed over him.
"Back off," he said quietly. There was something in his voice that lent him a weird kind of authority. He could tell you the sky was green and still be the voice of reason.
After a few seconds of tense silence, one of them sighed. "Whatever, man. But he better not disrespect any of us again, got it?"
"I'm sure he can behave," Jake smiled tightly.
The two of them glared at me for a moment, then grabbed their bags and left.
"Why, Marco?" He asked, throwing his hands in the air. "What was the point?"
"Why not? It was... entertaining. Seemed fun. Until they tried to kill me."
"Nice, Marco," he snapped. What was he talking about? "Bring that up whenever you can. It'll totally change my mind about it. I'll stop fighting. If you keep saying that we could die, Tom just – Tom just won't matter anymore. Real nice, after I just saved your butt." Oh.
"I wasn't talking about that, Jake."
He bit his lip. "Sorry. I just..."
"It's fine," I mumbled. I hated how on edge he'd become since Elfangor gave us our abilities. "So, we've got French next. Is it too late for me to copy your homework?"
He rolled his eyes. "Why can you never do your own?"
"Busy honing my video game skills. That's why I always kick your butt when we play."
"Ta gueule!" I assumed that was French for something rude. He punched me in the arm, and we walked to class like normal kids. Kids who weren't involved in alien warfare. It was nice.
I couldn't concentrate during French. I was so distracted – not from the class, which wouldn't have been anything unusual, but from my music. It was hard to listen to MC Hammer when a voice in your head was yelling at you.
At first I looked around, figuring that Jake was messing with my head. But his lips weren't moving – and he wasn't taking notes, so I guessed he was distracted too. Was someone else mumbling? It seemed like we were the only ones bothered.
My stomach felt like it was made of lead. Was this a side effect of the morphing? Hearing voices in my head? I didn't think it was thought-speak; none of us human Animorphs were in morph, and Tobias was supposed to be watching the entrance to the Yeerk pool. Plus thought-speak never sounded this quiet. I couldn't even understand what whoever was speaking was saying.
It seemed like class went on forever, but the bell finally rang. I grabbed my books – I'm not sure why I brought them to class, considering that they'd sat unopened on my desk the entire time – and moved over to Jake as quickly as I could.
"Please say you hear it too," I whispered as we walked down the hall towards the cafeteria.
He nodded, a bit uneasily. "We should probably ask Cassie and Rachel at lunch."
I looked at him, mock-horror plain on my face. "You mean sit at the girls' table? Manly, athletic Jake, eat with girls? So, next up we have cats giving birth to litters of snakes, and then the plagues and the riders of the Apocalypse, right?"
"Come on. It's not earth-shaking or anything. I eat with you every day, after all."
"But I'm, like, the definition of manliness. Unless you're willing to admit that a girl beats you at Doom every time. That would just be sad."
"What's sad is how you have nothing other than video games to brag about."
"Hey, I've got more than that. Just look at me. I'm obviously the cute one."
"Funny how all the 'cute' guys are five feet tall." He smirked as we entered the cafeteria.
(...you...me now?...girls...ear me...geom...fly...imp...) Someone sent the thought into my head. I looked at Jake.
"You hear that?" I asked him, relieved. I could tell that the buzzing had been thought-speak, just oddly muted. The voice seemed a lot clearer now, but I still couldn't make it out.
"Yeah," he said. "Sounds like Tobias. Or feels like him. Or... whatever. I see the girls over there." He pointed at Cassie and Rachel.
Rachel stared as we set our books down. "Seriously?" She asked.
Cassie smiled warmly, but she seemed a bit tense. "Jake. Marco. Hey. Did you..." She trailed off.
"Yeah," Jake said in a whisper. "Can't really hear it, though. Just a faint sort of buzz. Is it thought-speak?"
Cassie nodded. "We could hear him in geometry, but we lost him when we walked into the cafeteria. I think it's like a walkie-talkie; there's a limited range. He saw us leaving the math room, and he said he'd fly towards the cafeteria. He should be here pretty soon."
I exhaled. We'd be fine. We weren't hearing voices that didn't exist. We weren't crazy. We were totally normal shapeshifting freaks endowed with special powers by an alien.
(Hey, guys.) Tobias was coming through crystal-clear now. (Jake, scratch your head if you can hear me.) In response to Jake's somewhat confused look, he continued: (I can see you guys through the window. Great eyes, remember? And judging by the look on your face, you hear me. I kind of have something important to say.)
I opened my mouth, but then remembered that the bird in my head was outside and probably couldn't read lips.
(Just thought I'd let you all that the Yeerks plan on infesting one of our state senators.)
Apparently, Rachel and Cassie had heard this already, since they acted like it was bad, but nothing unexpected – you'd think that Macy's was out of their favorite lip gloss flavor. Or the secondhand shop was out of patched overalls. Jake and I, on the other hand, sat in stunned silence. The invasion was this far along? Who was next? The mayor? The governor? The president? The pope? God forbid, Bono?
(Yeahhh,) Tobias drawled. (Let's meet in Cassie's barn after school. We need to talk.)
Despite the fact that the senator was at risk of becoming a Controller, classes went on. It was a weird feeling, sitting through Mr. Caspar's lecture on conditions at Valley Forge. After hearing the news, US History seemed a bit anticlimactic.
English wasn't going any better so far. It's not like I usually pay attention, but I was too distracted to remember to hide my GameBoy as I played Mario & Wario. Well, it wasn't exactly my GameBoy; it was Jake's. Same thing, really. Unfortunately, the teacher confiscated it "until June, or whenever it is that you finally learn to pay attention, young man!" That stank for Jake, seeing as it was October. But whatever.
After about a billion years, the bell rang. "Remember to..." The teacher said something that no one could hear. Everyone was fighting to get out the door, and the ensuing scuffle was ridiculously loud. Ms. Hoskins looked disapproving, but, I mean, it was Friday. She knew not to expect anything different.
I followed Cassie and Rachel out the door while Jake begged Hoskins to give his GameBoy back.
"We're not waiting for him?" I asked.
"We don't want to seem too friendly," Cassie explained. "We never hung out before the... incident, so it'd seem kind of suspicious."
"See how it messes up everything?" I said, annoyed.
Rachel shot her best I-will-kill-you-in-your-sleep look my way. "Right. Your life was just perfect before. And it's not like saving the senator from becoming a – ow!"
Judging by her scowl, she'd just gotten a good kick in the shin from Cassie. "Sorry," Cassie whispered. "But we can't say that out loud, Rachel. Not in public." Rachel didn't apologize, but she nodded.
"Hey!" Jake called, jogging up to us. Cassie gave a little wave; he smiled, and then turned to me with a somewhat different expression. "Hoskins says she'll give it back to me as a Christmas present. You realize Christmas is two months away, right? Two months without Metroid and... You owe me, Marco. You owe me big time." He shook his head.
"Metroid... that's the Chinese one with the... the Pikachu, right?" Cassie wasn't quite as well-versed as me and Jake when it came to video games, but she'd overheard plenty of our arguments. Unfortunately, she seemed to remember all the wrong bits.
"No, that's Pokémon," I said. "It's Japanese. Mark – you know Mark, the geeky redhead in seventh grade? – he special-ordered it. The story's in Japanese, but the gameplay is brilliant. I'm telling you, when they ship it over to America, it'll be huge."
Jake rolled his eyes. "Yeah, everyone will want to play with a blushing yellow rat that shocks people. I'm thinking it'll sell, like, two units. It's the dumbest thing I've ever seen."
"Ever? What about Marco?" Rachel asked.
I faked a wounded expression. "Really, Jake? You don't care enough to even insult me anymore? You're replacing me with a Japanese video game? Man, that hurts."
He snorted. "Don't worry. I've got plenty of time to call you an obsessive little shrimp." I was trying to think of a witty retort when we all stopped walking. We'd reached the hallway with Jake and Cassie's lockers.
"So, the barn ASAP?" Cassie asked. It wasn't really asking; it was more of a reminder. But she was too polite to come within a hundred miles of giving an order.
"Yeah," we all agreed. Jake and Cassie split off from the rest of us, heading towards their lockers. Rachel and I were left alone.
There were a few seconds of silence, but then Rachel spoke. "Why do you hate it so much?" She asked me.
I was confused. "Pokémon? I think it's great. Jake's the one who..." I stopped, realizing that she was staring. "Right. You weren't talking about that. You were talking about the w... works of Gloria Estefan," I hastily corrected myself.
"Yeah, Gloria. Whatever. What's so bad about her?" She asked impatiently.
"She's going to kill us all, Rachel. If we fight her, Gloria Estefan will burn off our limbs with ray guns, or, if she doesn't get us then, hunt us down and have aliens stab us in our sleep. She'll isolate us from our family and friends. We're not old enough for her, Rachel. She's evil. Evil, evil, evil. And getting rid of her is not our problem. I'm not going to sign up to be brutally murdered by Gloria Freaking Estefan, okay?" I snapped. Unfortunately, some of the cheerleaders seemed to have heard me, seeing as they were making some very odd faces as they scurried to the other side of the hallway.
"She's necessary, Marco," Rachel shrugged. "So long Gloria is... making music... on our planet, she's our problem. If she was doing her thing on Krypton, then yeah, let's call up Superman. But the way things are? We need to be in the Estefan."
"That'll last all of a month before she rips us to shreds and leaves our corpses to rot on the floor. Or maybe she'll just burn our bodies! 'Our' being used loosely here, seeing as we're, you know, pretty different around Gloria. Our parents would never know what had happened to us, Rachel."
She laughed. I don't mean in a bitter way, either. A laugh. She sounded amused. "We're not going to be killed, Marco. We're going to kick some serious Cuban butt."
A cute Cuban-American girl – Loretta, I think – walking by gave her a confused, somewhat hurt look. I'd been hoping to get her number sometime; this probably wouldn't help. "We're not talking about that sort of Cuban," I called. "Talking about cigars. Very bad for you."
I glowered at Rachel, but she just shrugged. "Gloria's not all bad, Marco. You just have to get over being a wimp." With that, she smiled and walked away.
I'm starting to worry about Rachel.
"Dad, I'm going to go hang out with Jake." I didn't say where. I didn't say for how long.
He didn't ask. "That's nice," he mumbled. I wasn't sure he'd even heard what I was saying. "Watch out for Louis."
"I won't get in trouble with Louis," I promised. Louis hadn't been around for a while, come to think of it. Out with Louis, in with Reggie, the one-armed girl, and Boris. Reggie had killed Louis, I figured. They were longtime rivals; it was just a matter of time. Reggie was a rival dealer, and no one you'd want to mess with. Boris was some friendly, crazy old African guy who thought he was Russian, and the one-armed girl was some crazy blonde idiot who carried around a knife in her pocket. They were probably irrelevant, but you had to keep an eye on things.
It took forever to get to Cassie's barn on foot, and I didn't live in a place where you could ask a friendly neighborhood soccer mom to please give you a ride. So I made my way into the neglected clump of trees that stood an eighth of a mile from the entrance to my neighborhood and started to change.
It was always a weird feeling when your face melted, then hardened into a weapon made for dismantling rodents. The feathers itched when they shot out from your skin, and the grinding of your bones as your arms became wings was jarring. But the weirdest part would always be the shrinking. I've never thought of myself as tall, but I still wasn't used to the dirt being right next to my face. Usually Jake stopped the bullies before I had a chance to experience that.
Even if I was tiny, it didn't matter. An osprey could soar higher than Shaq's head if it wanted to. If I wanted to. I was the osprey. A bird. And I was on the ground. Vulnerable. What if a cat – a dog – a bigger bird – no, no. I needed to fly. Fly, fly, fly, fly! Be the boss! Rule the skies! Fly, fly, fly! My wings started to beat, and, after a slight struggle, I found myself in the air.
I could see everything. Perfect sight. Perfect for finding. For killing. Hunger. The hawk felt hunger. It would eat. A yummy mouse, maybe a rabbit –
I returned to being myself, mentally gagging. Sometimes the morph took over. Sometimes the animal instincts became your instincts. It could happen to anyone, but it seemed to get much, much better with practice. Not, of course, that I'd be practicing much longer.
Just this one mission. I'd stop the Yeerks from getting at the senator. Then I was done. Jake and the others would have to be suicidal idiots by themselves.
AN: So, I made the chapter longer. It seemed too short, but hopefully it's good enough now. =)
I'm going to try and write at least one more chapter over the weekend. I might get two, if I'm in a writing mood. ^^
I always appreciate reviews, so please don't hesitate.
I feel like I should reply to a few questions my one dedicated reviewer (thank you so much =D) asked in her reviews. ^^
Hah-of course Max would...
It's actually not Max. :) But I can see her doing that too. XD
I have to ask, do you come up with these witty jokes, or do you steal them from the book? xD.
I get the vague idea from the books – I get that Jake and Marco tease each other about video games, that Marco's short, etc. – but I don't flip through a book and copy out the jokes and/or paraphrase them. I just try to make up things that I think sound like them. I'm glad you think I'm witty. =D
"Ta Gueule!" Moments like these are ones when I wish I took a language other than Spanish ;P. Translation?
I take Spanish too; I just Googled how to say "shut up" in French, haha. Apparently, it's literally "your mouth", but people use it as a rather rude way to say "shut up".
Does the weird buzzing-noise-in-head-thingy have anything to do with Max?
That was supposed to be Tobias trying to reach them with thought-speak, but being too far away for it to be anything but a faint, indiscernible sound in their heads. I don't think I made that terribly clear, so I tried to revise that a bit in this update. =)
*Insert the many flattering comments here.*
Aw, thanks so, so much. ^^
You gave me too many compliments for me to reply to them all in a reasonable amount of space, haha. =D You're incredibly nice. It's great to have someone who likes my writing so much.
Thanks for reading. :3