The Departure Read online

  Animorphs

  The Departure

  K. A. Applegate

  AN APPLE

  PAPERBACK

  SCHOLASTIC INC. New York Toronto London Auckland Sydney

  i For Michael and Jake

  Cover illustration by David B. Mattingly

  If you purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as "unsold and destroyed" to the publisher, and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this "stripped book."

  No part of this publication may be reproduced in whole or in part, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission of the publisher. For information regarding permission, write to Scholastic Inc., Attention: Permissions Department, 555 Broadway, New York, NY 10012.

  ISBN 0-590-49451-1

  Copyright © 1998 by Katherine Applegate. All rights reserved. Published by Scholastic Inc. APPLE PAPERBACKS and logos are trademarks and/or registered trademarks of Scholastic Inc. ANIMORPHS is a registered trademark of Scholastic Inc.

  12 11 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 189/90123/0Printed in the U.S.A. 40First Scholastic printing, July 1998

  1

  My name is Cassie.

  I am an Animorph. That's the name we made up for ourselves. Or actually, it's the name Marco made up for us. I'm not that clever with words.

  I wish I was more clever with words. I really do. Because the story I have to tell is too strange, and in some ways too beautiful, for me to tell very well.

  But I'll do the best I can. And later, when I can no longer tell the story, Jake will take over.

  Here's what you need to know to begin with: We are not alone in the universe, we creatures of Earth. We humans are just one of maybe thousands of thinking, reasoning species. There are seven or eight that I know of for sure, ones

  2 that I have personally seen: Humans, Andalites, Yeerks, Hork-Bajir, Taxxons, Leerans, Gedds, Chee. And the Ellimists, if you can call them a species.

  Among these species, the Yeerks move like a virus. They are parasites. Like intelligent tapeworms. They enter a body, wrap themselves around the brain and take over complete control.

  Complete control. The poor creature who has been infested loses all power over his own actions. He loses all privacy. His memories are like a bunch of videotapes that the Yeerk can play whenever he wants.

  We call a human who has been taken over that way a Controller. The Hork-Bajir have all been made into Controllers. Well, almost all. The Taxxons, too. The Gedds.

  And now the Yeerks are after the human race. They have invaded the body of the human race like a virus. Like a cancer. Unseen, unsuspected, growing, spreading, enslaving. . . .

  I guess you'd call them evil. I always did. An evil race. An evil species.

  And I guess you'd say the Andalites are the opposite. The Andalites fight the Yeerks. It was a brave Andalite prince who broke his own laws to give us the power to morph. It's the only power we have to fight the Yeerks.

  3 This is what I believed: that the Yeerks are evil. That the morphing power is all we have.

  So I should have been glad to be able to fight the Yeerks. I should have been glad to have the morphing power.

  I should have been glad. . . .

  «Cassie! Behind you!»

  It was night. I was the wolf. I spun with far-more-than-human speed. I saw the Hork-Bajir's clawed, bladed foot slash toward me.

  I jerked aside.

  The foot landed in the dirt beside me, missing me by a hair. One inch to the left and it would have opened me up like a sardine can.

  The Hork-Bajir was off-balance now. All his weight was on that foot. I could see the muscles rippling. I could see the tendons straining.

  I lunged. I opened my jaw wide. I closed my teeth on those muscles, on those tendons, and I clamped with all the shocking power the wolf possessed.

  I twisted my head savagely, ripping, tearing, trying to do damage.

  "Rrrraaawwwr, raaawwrrr, rrrr!" I vocalized as I bit down. I repositioned, bit down again, and twisted and twisted, shaking my shoulders to help rip and tear.

  The Hork-Bajir screamed in pain.

  4 He tried to slash at me, but now he was off-balance in the other direction. He was falling back, thrown off by his own wild flailing.

  He fell. The sound of his fall was sharp and clear and full of details to my incredible wolf hearing. My wolf sense of smell recorded the panic hormones, the Hork-Bajir equivalent of adrenaline that flooded his system.

  My wolf ears could even hear the machine-gun pounding of his hearts. And the pulsing throb of the big arteries in his neck.

  All around me, the battle raged. Jake, our unofficial leader, in tiger morph. Rachel as a huge, rampaging elephant. Marco, like me, a wolf. Tobias in his own hawk body, soaring and diving, attacking eyes and faces. And Ax, the Andalite, his sharp tail flailing like a bullwhip. A razor-tipped bullwhip.

  We had been on a simple reconnaissance mission. It was a meeting of The Sharing, the front organization for Controllers. They were having a party for "new members." New members who thought they were joining something like the Boy or Girl Scouts, but would soon be dragged, willing or not, to be infested by Yeerks and be made slaves.

  It was a cookout in the park. A bonfire blazed. People ate hot dogs and coleslaw and slices of

  5 pie. The adults drank beer. The kids drank Cokes. The night sky was full of stars.

  We had sneaked up close to the meeting in various morphs. We had identified a dozen people we did not know were Controllers. Including a radio deejay who did one of those "wacky" morning shows, a state highway patrolman, a TV news reporter, and a substitute teacher who I had for homeroom for two months while my regular homeroom teacher was having a baby.

  A simple mission. Nothing too dangerous. Except that it had all gone wrong.

  Far from the main meeting, off to one side, out of sight of the innocent, naive people who wanted to join "for the fun," the "executive meeting" had gone suddenly weird. One of the human-Controllers had made a mistake of some sort. A serious mistake. And suddenly, she was being hauled off toward a waiting Bug fighter by Hork-Bajir warriors.

  They wanted to take her to Visser Three, the leader of the Yeerk invasion of Earth.

  She knew what that meant. If she was lucky, her death would be quick. She started to yell.

  "But I didn't do it! I didn't do it! You have to tell the Visser I'm innocent!"

  That's when we changed our plans. That's when we decided to get involved. See, we figured

  6 if we saved the woman, the Yeerk in her head might cooperate with us. Might reveal secrets to us.

  And we only saw two Hork-Bajir and a gaggle of human-Controllers, none of whom had a weapon.

  So we'd morphed into battle morphs. And that's when the other five Hork-Bajir had shown up.

  We fought. Not exactly for the first time. And we were winning.

  "Aaarrrggghhh!" the Hork-Bajir cried in panic and pain.

  The Hork-Bajir's leg was in bad shape. I let go of it. I leaped up the length of his body. He slashed at me, but weakly. His night-sight was not as good as mine. He didn't see me as clearly as I saw him.

  I saw his throat, unprotected.

  «Okay, they've had it, back away! Back away!» Jake yelled.

  But it was too late for the Hork-Bajir. Too late to keep the wolf that was me from doing what its instincts taught it to do.

  Too late.

  We backed off. We stood for a moment, glowering at the battlefield. I could clearly hear the main group of The Sharing laughing and singing

  7 and having fun, off beyond this dark, bloody field. They were oblivi
ous. They'd seen nothing.

  But just beyond the battlefield stood a handful of human-Controllers. They stared at us with hatred.

  We stared back at them.

  And then we turned and melted away into the night.

  «Okay, everyone, let's get outta here,» Jake said wearily. He's always depressed after a battle.

  «Seven of them, six of us, and we ruled!» Rachel said. She's usually up, almost giddy, after a battle.

  Tobias was silent, as he usually is after a battle.

  Marco looked for a joke. «You know, I was gnawing this Hork-Bajir's arm and I just kept thinking mustard. It would go so much better with mustard.»

  Marco jokes after a battle. And before. But the jokes afterward are always kind of strained.

  Ax calmly wiped his tail blade off on the grass as we walked.

  And I said, «I'm never doing that again.»

  «Yeah, it was not a smart fight. But hey, we won,» Rachel said.

  «No. I mean I am never doing that again,» I

  8 said. «Never. I quit. I quit this stupid war. I quit the Animorphs.»

  I turned and walked away from the others.

  I felt their eyes following me.

  Maybe if I hadn't felt so hollow, so weak, so sickened inside, maybe I would have felt the extra set of eyes on me.

  But I wasn't paying attention. I was done being afraid. I was done hurting other creatures.

  I was done, done, done being an Animorph.

  9

  I demorphed as I headed toward home. It started to rain a little, just a drizzle. Just enough to turn the leaves wet, to make the grass squishy as I walked across the field.

  The lights were bright at my house. Through the family room window I could see my mom sitting at her desk going over paperwork.

  I couldn't see my dad. But I knew where he was: in his big easy chair watching TV, the remote practically glued to his hand.

  Our big barn was dark. Just a tiny, bright white light to mark the door so we could find it if one of the animals needed care in the night.

  The barn is also the Wildlife Rehabilitation Clinic. Both my parents are vets. My mother

  10 works with the exotic animals at The Gardens, which is a zoo-slash-amusement park. My dad runs the clinic, where he takes in injured wild animals: squirrels, geese, voles, foxes, deer, rabbits, bats, raccoons, hawks. You name it.

  I help my dad in the barn. I give meds - medicines - to the animals. I clean them up and change bandages and feed them.

  I headed for the barn to get the change of clothing I keep hidden there. See, when we morph, we can only morph the tight shirts and leotards we call our morphing outfits. I couldn't exactly show up back home wearing just that.

  I didn't turn on the lights in the barn. I knew my way around. And I could see a red "Exit" light and light from the computer we used to keep track of the animals' progress.

  I passed by the cages. Most of the animals were quiet. But not all were asleep. The nocturnal animals were pacing to and fro - those that could pace.

  I walked by a fox. Its tail had been hacked off. Probably by some troubled kids. It paced and stared out of the cage and paced some more.

  It looked at me. It had very intelligent eyes. It looked right at me.

  "It's okay," I said to the fox.

  I found my clothes in the tack room, changed, and walked to the house.

  11 "Cassie! There you are." It was my dad. He was kicked back in his easy chair, just like I knew he would be. "You didn't walk home, did you? It's raining."

  "No, Rachel's mom gave me a ride."

  "I didn't hear a car pull up."

  I forced a laugh. "You were probably watching TV."

  Lies came so easily. I had become an expert at lying since becoming an Animorph. But now there would be no need for lies.

  "Yeah. This news story. A leopard's escaped from some fool who keeps exotic animals. They think it may have made it back up into the mountains. Clawed a man pretty badly. It'll be a tough job recapturing a leopard. Honey?" he yelled in a louder voice directed toward the kitchen. "Cassie's home."

  My dad seemed way too perky. Way too cheerful. It was an act.

  I went into bright light and gleaming linoleum. "Hi, Mom."

  "Hi, sweetheart," my mom said.

  Now my radar really tingled. My mother isn't one of those "honey-sweetheart" kind of people. Something was wrong. I felt my dad coming into the kitchen behind me.

  "What's the matter?" I asked.

  My parents sat down at the round table. I sat

  12 down, too. I was expecting a lecture about staying out too much. I was ready to promise not to do it again. I was ready to mean it, this time.

  "There's no easy way to do this," my mom said. "Cassie, we've lost funding for the clinic. We just got word this evening."

  I shot a look to my dad. He looked away and down and up at me, then away again.

  "What do you mean?" I asked stupidly.

  My dad muttered, "The, uh . . . the pet food company that's been paying to support the clinic is pulling out. I am trying to get a new company to help us out, but it doesn't look good. It looks like we're going to have to shut down the clinic."

  I should have had something to say. They were both looking at me like I'd have something to say. But I just didn't.

  "We know this will upset you," my mom said.

  And I just stared blankly.

  "We'll keep trying," my dad said. "In fact, I'm leaving town tomorrow to talk to a vice president at this new company."

  I tried to find some words. But nothing. It was like every part of my life that mattered was being taken away in a single night. No more Animorphs. And I knew what that meant: Rachel would pretend to still be my friend, but she'd never really forgive me. Jake would still like me,

  13 but his life was about being leader of the Animorphs.

  And now this. I was even losing my animals.

  My mother was peering closely at me, looking bothered. "Urn . . . honey, you have something in your teeth. Right there." She pointed to her own teeth.

  I felt with my finger. I pulled out a small shred of something green and gray.

  Somehow, while morphing from wolf back to human, it had become lodged between my shrinking teeth.

  A small sliver of Hork-Bajir flesh.

  14

  It took a long time for me to get to sleep.

  I just kept thinking: It's all gone. Everything that was big and important in my life. All of it gone. My best friend. The guy I ... that I liked. The animals I loved.

  What was I going to do now? What was I going to be? I was just another short, slightly chubby girl now.

  I had to tell Jake it was all a joke! I couldn't quit. Was I crazy? I couldn't quit!

  But then, in the darkness, I saw that Hork-Bajir. I felt my powerful jaws grinding . . .

  I've met a couple of free Hork-Bajir. The Hork-Bajir are a ferocious-looking race. Seven

  15 feet tall, with razor-sharp blades at their wrists, elbows, even on their legs and tail. But sometimes looks are deceiving. The Hork-Bajir use the blades to peel bark from trees back on their home planet. It's what they eat. They are peaceful herbivores.

  It wasn't the fault of the Hork-Bajir. He never did anything to me. It wasn't him trying to cut me up with his blades. It was the Yeerk in his head. That poor Hork-Bajir had no control of anything.

  But he felt the pain. He suffered. He suffered because of what I did to him. And now, whatever hopes he might have had of someday being free, well, those hopes were gone.

  Because of me.

  "It was battle," I whispered into the sheets drawn up under my chin. "It's a war."

  I hadn't heard Jake call us off. I hadn't heard in time. If I had, the Hork-Bajir might still have his dreams of freedom. And yet... when had Jake called us off? Before I lunged or after? It was all confused in my mind.

  Confused . . .

  I guess I drifted off to sleep, because I started to dr
eam.

  I was huge. Huge! More than forty feet long from my tail to my blunt, roaring head. Eighteen

  16 feet tall. With teeth that were seven inches long.

  I was the most dangerous predator the world has ever known.

  I was Tyrannosaurus.

  In the dark I saw the Triceratops slam its huge horns into another Tyrannosaurus. It was Marco, in morph just like me. He was on his side, his belly exposed to the horns.

  I flexed the huge muscles in my tree trunk legs. I dug my massive bird-talons into the dirt. And I leaped!

  Tons of muscle and bone soared through the air. I landed beside the Triceratops. I lowered my head, and opened my mouth and bit down into the exposed spine of the Triceratops. I sank my teeth into it and jerked back with all my might.

  I felt the big dinosaur come up off the ground. Marco was safe. I knew that. But I was caught up now in the rage of battle.

  I roared.

  "HoooRRROOOOAAARRR!"

  And the Triceratops screamed. "Rrrr-EEEE-EEEEEE! Rrrr-EEEEEEEEEE!"

  I shook my Tyrannosaurus head, worrying the screaming Triceratops like a dog worrying a bone.

  And then the Triceratops stopped making sounds. It hung limp. I dropped it and stood over the fallen creature. And I bellowed.

  17 "Huh-huh-huh-RRRRRROOOOOAAAARRR!" I roared in triumph. The sound shook the leaves in the trees. It seemed to shake the distant stars.

  "Huh-huh-huh-RRRRRROOOOOAAAARRR!" I screamed again.

  I felt within me all the violence of nature, all the ruthlessness of the survival of the fittest, all the power of muscle and bone and claw and tooth, all the ageless, never-ending lust for conquest wrapped into one awesome roar.

  I woke up.

  I jumped out of bed and ran to the bathroom in the hall. I closed the door and turned on the light. I sat there on the closed toilet for a while, shaking and holding my face with my hands.

  I brushed my teeth.

  I kept brushing my teeth till my gums were bleeding. With pink-stained toothpaste foaming around my mouth, I looked at myself in the mirror.

  Was this what it was like to go nuts?

  I opened the window. Cool night air flowed in. The rain had stopped. From here I could see the barn, quite close by. Soon it would be empty. No more animals.

  I saw a flash of movement. Just a patch of darkness that shifted out of sight behind the barn. Probably an animal drawn to the smell and sounds of prey in the barn.