Prologue
A man in the shadows of an alley lit a cigarette and puffed on it once to get the nicotine burning. The tip glowed red-orange and that was the only "hot" color in the whole scene. This man was shadowed over with black, hardly seen except for a vague silhouette. His background was lit in the blue of an unseen streetlight. A mist or fog settled low to the ground, hiding whatever may be at the alley's exit, and making black silhouettes of trash cans and the scattered garbage on the ground.
This man was looking for something. Something specific, something rare, something unbelievable.
Something believed "supernatural."
In his jacket pocket, there was a .35 glock, fully loaded. He would take no chances like his wife did. Those bastards. They killed his wife and now they would pay. They would pay dearly. And by what he knew they didn't know of his arrival yet.
It was risky business what he was doing here. He had a child to take care of. A child with no mother and hardly a father around. But at least she didn't know about what happened to her mother.
Samantha walked down the deserted street. On either side of her were rundown apartment buildings. There was a pungent linger that hung around these kind of places. She was guessing dirt, piss, and decay. It was dark and all that she had to bring her light was one dinky flashlight, her only protection, a cow prod and six shooter that belong to her late father. She knew this was dangerous but she couldn't help it. These things had to be known to the world. After the capture of a few dead specimens–it seems one zoologist called them "wolfen," only God knows why–the zoo wanted a live one for display. It wasn't her job to get them but the strange thing was that the night that these "wolfen" were brought in they disappeared. Just disappeared with only a few gurneys flooded with blood and a few tufts of brown fur.
The Feds were brought in to investigate the scene very soon after the incident in the building. Then they came to the zoo to investigate this new scene. They found an already dusted out hand print. The white powder showed a hand with stunted fingers in the shape of a dog's paw. It was found in front of a window as if this thing had succeeded in pushing the window forward. They never found out if it ever got in.
These things–these wolfen had destroyed Samantha's sister's sanity and actually killed her brother in-law. It was a horrifying scene at the apartment building. Just horrible.
But now that Samantha was close to these wolfen she planned to kill them. Oh, revenge was a such a powerful word. To her it was like a hot knife cutting through her mind. Revenge was the only thing to it. If she killed these things her mind would be appeased and she could go back to her husband and daughter with no worry at all. But with these things still living, she was at a threat and so was her family. Before the wolfen would leave she would have her way with them. She would kill them and maybe catch one.
She looked to her left and saw a shape pass an alley. To her left another form passed an alley. Neither was identifiable but she knew what it was. She half-cocked the gun and hid it under her coat. One passed in front of her in clear view. It looked at her as if telling her she was in the wrong spot. But she kept walking.
One stopped in front of her and bared its teeth after many warnings. To her left one jumped on the top of a car and stood high. When she pulled out the gun they vanished in a split second.
Samantha's heart raced. She didn't know they were that fast. So smart. She had no idea what she was getting herself into and soon she would know there was no possible escape. She turned around and a form crossed her path behind her. She turned back around and walked fast. She was in pure fear now. She didn't know that this was the thing her sister's comrades had done before. They died and they had much more powerful weapons.
She heard one jump up on the hood of a car. With no aim, no thought, she spun around and fired the gun. One of the streetlights shattered and her light was dimmed. Only two more streetlights left to give her any vision. She heard her heart beat, heard it pounding like a jackhammer in her rib cage, heard her breath come and go but not one sound was heard from those things. Not one damn sound.
There! A clatter to her left! She fired twice. One of the bullets did a rickasha on the pavement and blew out another precious streetlight. The glass sparkled to the ground and the orange light went dead. She cursed herself. One streetlight left and only three bullets left.
Use them wisely, she thought. Yet that was near impossible. Her nerves were stung tight and just any movement would make her react.
A noise to her left. She fired and there was an unnatural yelp from one of them. She cursed it silently in triumph. Another movement. She felt lucky. So lucky. She fired but there was only a rickasha and it flew back toward her. In her leg. She fell.
Yes, those bastards had to die. But he would take care of them soon enough. He just needed to find their lair.
He took one last puff at his cigarette. It glowed in that foreboding scene of blues and blacks one last time before her flicked it on the ground. He walked off but what he didn't see was what happened behind him.
A form, a black form shaped by the mist hanging low to the ground and the blue tinted streetlight somewhere hidden back there, lurked across the alley. It looked over before that short trip across ended and the eyes reflected gold for a brief second. Like gold pearls hanging in a pitch black silhouette.
They knew. Yes they knew and this man would die if he even tried what he was thinking. They already knew where he lived. They knew the hang out places of his highschool daughter. They knew how to kill a human being and unlike a human being, they would not hesitate.
Marco walked down the school hallway thinking once again about that encounter long ago. He couldn't help it. It was something so mysterious and yet so frightening. He was heading to the science lab with book and note pad in hand along with a mechanical pencil and a pen. Another day at school. Another day of trying to act normal.
He looked to his right when he heard a familiar tune. It was probably one of the most well known song in Rock ‘n Roll plus Country. And a girl was singing it. A girl.
". . . was the House of the Rising Sun. And there was the ruin of many a girl and me, my lord, I'm one . . ." she sang the song in a low whisper. How rare! he thought. A girl that knows these things. Impossible!
She looked new only because he couldn't recall hitting on her once in the past. She had brown hair streaked with strawberry-blonde, a lovely looking face powdered lightly with make-up, and beautiful bright green eyes. She wore dark khaki capris, a red tank top that had a gold oriental dragon in the center, and black sandals that showed her dainty feet. Her hair was wrapped in a bun, leaving stray pieces of hair dangle down close to her face. No, he must have been mistaken. This would not be a girl that sang one of the Animals' most famous songs.
Marco walked a bit closer. He heard it again! She was singing it over again!
"Um, excuse me," he said.
She stopped and turned around to face him.
"Yes?" she said. Ah, her voice. It made him want to melt.
"What were you singing?" Marco asked.
"Let me guess, a Britney Spears lover," she shot in a not too friendly voice.
"Let me guess, Britney Spears wanna be?" Marco shot back. "No, I don't care for Britney Spear but I do think her initials fit quite well. B.S. Bull shit."
She smiled. He saw braces on her teeth. Metal brackets with baby-blue and a color of light yellow.
"No, I'm more partial to Hootie and the Blowfish, Ledd Zeplin . . ." he provided. "And what about you? Backstreet Boys and what not?"
She shook her head. "I'd rather hear Styx and Santana. Old Santana," she added.
"Old Lynyrd Skynyrd?" Marco asked.
"Yes! Exactly!" she said happily. "Original is always best."
"So what's your name?"
"Amanda," she said.
"Amanda?" Marco held out a hand. "Marco."
Amanda shook his hand. "Nice to meet you. Maybe we'll meet each other some other time but for now I got to go."
She walked off. Marco looked at his hand in awe. A girl shook his hand? What a miracle! Old Rock lover? Beautiful? My, God. It's a miracle. His heart fluttered but he was awaken from his thoughts by the bell.
Rachel watched this new girl walk down the hall. It was the second new girl she had seen that day and she knew neither of their names. She watched her walk up to the vice-principal, Chapman, and asked him something.
She was almost perfect it seemed. Like a strange mix of different cultures. She wore a tight grey black and blue camouflage, spaghetti-string tank top, grey cargo pants, and some black boots that weren't exactly military issue but close. Her hair was brown and cut just below her shoulders. Her eyes blue and her skin was slightly tanned.
She was about to go up to her and give a friendly welcome but before she could the bell rang so she rushed to class right before she saw Chapman hand the girl a flier advertising for the Sharing.
This "new girl" walked up to Chapman. She pushed a lock of brown hair behind her ear when he over at her.
"Excuse me," she said, her voice accented with a British and Australian mix, "are you Mr. Chapman?"
"Yes. What can I help you with?" he asked politely but she saw something different in his eyes. Something evil and strange.
"I'm new in town an' I was wondering if you could point me in the direction . . ." she started.
Chapman flinched unnaturally. She dreaded that but let it pass for a moment.
". . . in the direction of my fuhst closs," she continued after the hesitation.
"What is the class?" he asked.
"English."
"Yeah," he answered. "Down that hall. One O nine. But before you go," he handed her a pink flier that read across it "The Sharing: We're here for you, where friends are made."
All the Animorphs were in the mall together. Yes, it was a bit dangerous but it was only one time. The last time they had gone to the mall Ax went haywire again but that time the Yeerks kind of noticed and he was chased out. Marco couldn't follow him because it was a risk of identity being discovered.
They were all together now to investigate any strange happenings that may come by and to keep Ax from eating everything in the Food Court. Something was definitely wrong with the Yeerks though. There was no word from them. No new plan or anything.
"I tell you," Marco said, ecstatic, "that she was the girl of my dreams! I swear it!"
"Yeah," Rachel answered. "A girl in your dreams."
"No, I swear. Her name was Amanda," he protested.
Cassie was there. Her stitches were gone but the scars were still there. Ax had taught her how to keep the scars so no one would get suspicious. It was a maneuver a lot of warriors would use because earned scars were like medals of honor. Morphing would make them melt away so they discovered the simple procedure. Cassie had only morphed once and it worked out okay.
"I remember seeing two new girls at school today," she said. "Was she one of them?"
"Yeah, and what a wonderful one at that," Marco said dreamily.
"Who was the other one?" Cassie asked.
"Beats me. I didn't see her," he answered.
Ax split from the group for a second to wander into a Gateway store. Ax was a bit different now. He ad been in and out of morph so many times that the human DNA was finally aging somewhat. His hair had grown a bit longer, shaggier. Erek had cut his because no one knew how long it would actually take to go to a proffesional salon. Now his hair had a Keanu Reeves look. He had also grown a few inches, also, and was now almost as tall as Jake. He looked at the computers. Each one had a screen saver projected on the screen. The store was pretty much deserted except for male two youths in tie, white shirt, and slacks. They were drinking from cups with big Ms posted on the side and casually talking to each other about some date. They were talking about how great it was and everything. Personally, Ax didn't understand. He had eaten a few dates before and they weren't that special. There was another person in the store, too. She was around his human morph's age. She had decorated artifical clothing on like what he had seen at an Army Surplus store once. The top was tight, showing a figure that was appeazing to his human eye and then baggy pants and a pair of black boots. The rest of her apparel turned him on too. Well, slightly. It gave her a mocho look that the Andalite part of him liked. She was on one of the computers typing away frantically and every once in a while she would stop to read.
Ah, yes. Human computers. They were so primitive in his eyes. They had hard drives that only held around one hundredth of the space an Andalite Fighters computer could hold. And that was the highest computer humans made right there. But these human learned fast. It was only sixty years earlier that their computers were as big as these block human houses and only did calculator work. It was a large improvement.
He walked to one computer and pushed the mouse. The screen saver froze and a window popped up asking for a password. He didn't feel like tampering with such things at the moment so he moved to the next one. It asked the same. He moved on, checking all the computers available which were fourteen out of fifteen. Each one asked the same. But the one the female was usuaing was working properly.
Since she didn't wear the artificial clothing that the store workers did he guessed she was just a visitor. An on looker. He walked up to her.
"Excuse me," he said and tapped her shoulder.
She jumped, quickly tapped on the mouse, which closed the program and started the screen saver again, and then turned around to face him, almost tripping on her own feet. Ax caught her under the arms, aware that his heart started beating faster with being so close to this human female. He almost fell himself but they were up right soon enough. He kind of wondered why he got aroused by such a small touch and expecially from a human. Her face flushed red when Ax hadn't let go some seconds after. He noticed and let go, feeling his own warm, red flush of embarrassment climb up his neck to his face.
"Um," she pushed a lock of hair behind her ear and looked up. "Yes?"
"What exactly were you doing on that computer? COM-puter. Puter." He licked his top lip and tried to restrain himself from playing with the mouth sounds. Where it used to not bother him at all, it now made him feel stupid and only embarrass him even more.
"I was merely using it to see if I wished to buy it," she answered. He noticed she had an accent not of the region and it was a bit charming.
"How did you get into the system? Sisss-tem," he asked. He winced inwardly with the slip of his tongue.
She tilted her head slightly and looked at him strangely. Then she looked at her watch. She didn't answer Ax but instead, popped a disk out of the computer and left.
Ax tapped into the computer easily and tried to find what this human had done. He didn't find anything though usually it was fairly easy for him to do such a thing.
"Ax!" Jake yelled. He was standing outside of the store looking at Ax. "Are you coming?"
"Yes," Ax said and walked out. He looked to one side of the hall and to the other side. The girl was walking down toward the Food Court as she put the small floppy disk into her back pocket. He stared momentarily and swollowed. He wasn't aware that he was watching the way her hips moved when she walked, or how her hair shined in the florecient lights, the way he noticed a small line of tanned flesh at the small of her back where the tight top didn't cover. When he did notice he blushed and turned around to avert his eyes. There was something about that girl. Something a bit strange.
Two
"C'mon, Ax," Tobias said. "We need to do the demorph and remorph thing before our time gets too short."
Ax nodded, still a bit . . . somewhat . . . dazed.
"We'll be right back, Jake," Tobias told Jake.
Jake nodded. "Probably by the time you get back Rachel and Cassie will be back."
Rachel had drug Cassie into The Limited for a while. She couldn't resist Rachel's longing for clothes and getting her into a "decent" pair and besides, there was a dance coming up and they both needed formal apparel. That included at least four different stores to stop at once and then go back to them a second time to find the perfect sale. It was very hectic but Rachel always seemed to get the cheapest price for the finest clothing. And best ever, it all matched!
Marco looked over toward the arcade. It wasn't his fave of faves but it was decent enough to spend a few quarters on. When he looked closer he saw that girl. That girl! His mind couldn't take the excitement so it turned to almost mush. He couldn't really remember her name but he could at least remember his.
"Jake!" Marco whispered and nudged his friend in the rib cage, which the force was unplanned and Jake ended up rubbing his side gingerly. "Jake!"
"What?!" Jake said.
Marco shyly pointed to Amanda. "That's her."
"Then go take to her, man! Just don't hit me in the ribs again like that," Jake answered.
"I can't," Marco said.
"You can't what? You've done it before."
"Yeah, but those were other girls. Those were girls shared half a brain
cell," Marco answered.
"Excuse me?" Rachel spat.
Marco jumped because he didn't know she was there. Then he winced when he realized his mistake. Slowly he turned around to face Rachel. See, he had hit on her many times. PreYeerk it wasn't a joke. Now every time was a joke. But still . . .
"Sorry, Xena," Marco said. "Will you forgive me and not pound my face in? Please?"
Rachel grinned approvingly and patted his head. "Yes, I'll forgive you, poor Marco."
"Thank you!" Marco grinned sarcastically.
Even though the Yeerks did nothing they worried and they thanked God. Breaks were always appreciated by everyone and it usually made them a bit giddy. It was as if the war was never there and all of them had been good friends since they were tots in diapers. These were the times they cherished just as much as a parent usually cherished every moment they had with their child. They knew that they probably would never feel this way ever again. Some times they were wrong but other times they were very close to being right.
"Marco?" a soft voice asked.
Marco spun around to be face to face with Amanda.
"Oh, hey," Marco said and then blushed.
Amanda smiled. Then she looked at Jake, Cassie, and Rachel. "Who are these people?"
"They're-they're . . ." Marco stuttered as he was lost in how beautiful he thought she was and how her eyes sparkled. How sexy her voice was and the curvatures in her body. That hair, that smile, the . . .
"We're Marco's friends," Jake supplied. "I'm Jake. This is Cassie and this is Rachel." He pointed to Rachel and Cassie when he said their names.
"Nice to meet you. I'm Amanda Dowers," Amanda said. "Marco?"
Marco snapped out of his transfixed stare with a blink and a shake of his head. "Yes?"
She put a hand on his arm, which made Marco's heart flutter more than it already was. "Can I talk to you in private?"
"Sure!" Marco said. He looked at his friends. Jake urged him on. A blush ran up his neck. Amanda led him a few feet away.
"Hey," Amanda started, "I was wondering if you wanted to go out some time or another?"
"You're kidding right?" Marco mused. "It's like one of those see-how-many-people-you-can-turn-down-after-they-say-yes games, right?"
She shook her head. "Never heard of it. Now do you or don't you?"
"Um, yes! Sure!" Marco answered. He was kind of stuck by awe because this was actually happening. She actually asked him. "But why?"
Amanda hesitated a second. "Becuase you're cute in more than one way," she smiled, sheepishly.
A warmth spread down the nape of Marco's neck to the small of his back, embarressed and awed and in pure puppy love.
"One question?" Amanda asked.
"Shoot."
"Okay, Lynyrd Skynyrd or Aerosmith?"
"I'd have to say Aerosmith because they aren't the original Lynyrd Skynyrd. Do you like skateboarding?"
"No. I'm more partial to dirt biking."
"Oh, my God! You're the perfect woman!" Marco said at a level where his friends could actually hear.
Amanda blushed cherry red but it was partially hidden by the light layer of make-up. She pulled a piece of paper out of her black purse and wrote down her phone number. "Here," she handed it to Marco, "call me. I have to go now."
"One question."
She turned around from her departure to listen.
"Free Bird or Stairway to Heaven."
"My God! It's a sin to ask!" And she left.
Ax and Tobias walked out of the boys bathroom and started toward the other Animorphs when Ax looked over. He saw that girl from earlier. She was coming from a Baskin & Robins–newly built addition–with two clear cups with some brown liquid in it along with a fluffy top underneath the bubbled up cover. He stopped and watched her yet again. His own puppy love was starting somewhere in there but he was embarresed and almost disgusted to even think that about a human.
The others had reached Ax and Tobias instead because Tobias had turned around to try and follow Ax's gaze. Ax's courage bubbled up and he walked up to greet the girl while the others just watched with Tobias.
"Hello," Ax offered first.
She looked up, startled again. Ax noticed her eyes were an enchanting blue.
"Yes?" she responded.
"I was just wondering . . ." Ax was at a loss of words.
"Whot I'm doing ‘ere?" she offered.
"No. Not that. . . ."
She casually sipped the drink and waited.
"I didn't steal anything if thot's whot you're wondering. There's nothing worth stealing in that ol' fashioned place anyways," she said.
Ax thought, "Old fashioned?"
"What's your name? Mmmuh!" Ax said. He cursed inwardly for playing with that sound.
"Do you ollways play with sounds like thot?" she asked.
"I am sorry. It is a habit I'm trying to get out of," he closed his mouth and refrained from playing with the tantalizing sounds.
"That's nice because it gets quit annoying," she answered. "My name is Jennifer. I would give you a hond to shake but I only have two honds."
"I understand," Ax answered.
"And your's?" she asked.
"Ax!" Jake called and walked up him with the others not far behind.
"Ax? Thot is a strange name fo' a purson," Jennifer said.
"His name's Axel. We just call him Ax," Jake implied.
"Prr . . . I mean, Jake. I wish to not be referred to as a mechani--" Ax
thought being reffered to as a mechanical devise was extremely insulting.
"Whot was that fuhst thing you were saying . . . Ax?" she asked.
He thought Jennifer said his name quite beautifully with the accent. "Oh,"
Ax smiled nervously, "it was simply playing with sounds again. It is a very tempting thing."
She smiled, looking into his eyes. He pushed that feeling away again.
A watch on her wrist suddenly beeped and she looked at it alarmed her. She bent it as close as she could to see it and then put her hand back down. She cursed under her breath. "I must go," she sighed. "It was pleasant meeting you oll." She looked at Ax, "Maybe we could oll see each otha sometime in the near futuh?"
"Yes . . . maybe," Ax said lightly, awed. He watched her leave and there was something left in him that he couldn't exactly comprehend.
Marco laughed. "Ax seems to have a crush."
Ax looked back to Marco.
"I wouldn't exactly take to her so soon," Rachel said. "I saw her with Chapman this morning. He handed her something about the Sharing."
"She's probably a spy for the British Intelligence Agency and she's tracking a nuclear missile that the Yeerks have, which have a plan to start a World War Three and it's planted under the mall," Marco said after they left the mall. "I mean, did you hear that accent? James Bond chick all the way."
"I swear, Marco. You come up with the strangest things," Rachel said.
"It could happen. Seen stranger things. Oh, and Ax?" Marco said. "You should be proud to be called Axel because Axel Foley is just awesome."
"I do not wish to be an actor, Marco," Ax answered.
"Jeez, Ax. Lighten up." Marco.
< I really wouldn't mind meeting her again. > Ax said to Tobias.
< Yeah? > Tobias pressed. < So Ax has a crush on a human, eh? >
< She doesn't seem human to me. > He tried to cover it up. But it was something that he thought.
< Yeah, well that's what every guy thinks when he's in love with a girl. >
< No. I'm serious. > Ax said. < She's not human. She's Andalite. >
< Get serious, Ax-man. She drank something and she didn't go crazy. Now even those assassins when crazy over food. She was dressed in decent clothes. And she had an accent! I mean, how many Andalites have British accents? >
< None to tell you the truth. > Ax said sadly. < Thought-speech doesn't carry accents. Just like it doesn't have its own defined language. >
< It seems you just don't want to admit you like a human. > Tobias speculated. < Don't worry. We're not all that bad. >
< Still . . . > Ax couldn't really get his mind off of her being Andalite. In his mind it was a "it has to be." She had to be inhuman. She had to be alien.
< Still what? >
< I don't know. . . . > Ax said sheepishly. < There's something about her. Something's just wrong. >
Ax dipped his hoof into the stream while his mind tried to settle itself. He just had this feeling deep inside him that something was up. Something was up and it dealt with Jennifer in some way.
She ran her fingers over each file. She was looking for something. More like six somethings in the way of permanent records.
"Dad won't ap-pre-ci-ate," a comical yet intelligent voice said.
"Fie'. On-uh 'ok oo ‘ie ow," a small flashlight slurred her speech. "‘Oo con' oo oo ‘ings ah un."
"Five sure-ly can," Five answered. "It is hard, though. Hard. Taxing. Difficult. Demanding."
"‘Ut uh, Fie," she stated.
"Sweet, drooling," he responded.
She took the flashlight out of her mouth, rubbed the back of her hand on her mouth, and found she really wasn't. But the flashlight was a tad bit wet so she wiped the flashlight off on her pants, then moved to the next filing cabinet.
"Dad won't ap-pre-ciiii-aate," Five stated again.
"Whot he doesn't know won't huut him. Now scoot ovah."
She ran her fingers over more of the vanilla folders and then slid out one. She thumbed through it and there was a flash of light when she found the important parts of the record. She found the next and photographed it.
Three
Cassie was set out to doing a few chores in the barn one evening. She pulled on some old jeans and slipped some old rubber boots on after. She would probably muck out the horse stables and then change a few bandages. When she opened the door there was a man with his fist poised at a knock. She guessed he was around late thirties or forties. His hair was a rich brown color, cut fairly short, and his eyes green–bloodshot. He put his fist down, almost nervously.
"Can I help you?" Cassie asked.
"Yes, um . . ." his eyes shifted around looking at then air for a second, "I’m an investigator, Malcolm Dowers. Are your parents home?"
"No sir. Not yet. What do you want?"
"I’ve been on the trail of a few animals in the past few months and since you and your parents run a rehabilitation clinic for animals I was wondering if you have seen them?" Malcolm said.
"What do they look like?" Cassie cocked her head and asked.
Malcolm pulled out a folded piece of paper and gingerly opened it. He showed the black and white pencil sketches to her and Cassie had to hold in a gasp. It was a picture of an animal drawn many times and at many different angles. It was largely the shape of an over grown wolf. Its hands held stunted fingers and its feet were close to the same but not quite. The skull was pushed up slightly to make a kind of forehead and its mouth was pressed to give the impression of lips.
"This is what it looks like," he answered. "Have you seen one recently?"
Cassie took a trembling hand and lowered the collar of her shirt to reveal pink, pinched skin on her neck.
"Yes, I’ve seen them," Cassie responded. "I was attacked by them."
"How many were there?" he asked excitedly.
Cassie was a bit disgusted at his tone but she answered. "There were two pups and then I saw five others."
"You’re lucky to be alive," Malcolm said. "Have you been attacked by them since?"
"No. And I pray to God that I don’t," Cassie answered. "What are they anyway?"
"They’re called Wolfen. They’re a higher subspecies of wolf and we believe that they started somewhere in Europe. They are incredibly smart and they learn incredibly fast. Will you please give me a call if you see them again?" He took out a card with a phone number scribbled on the back.
Cassie took it and nodded. "Sure, sure," she answered. "What are you going to do with them?"
"Probably give them to the zoo," he lied.
Cassie nodded, still looking at the card. "Don’t worry. I’ll call you."
"Thanks a lot . . ." Malcolm waited for a name.
"Cassie," she supplied.
"Thank you, Cassie," he finished.
< Ax? You wanna go to the mall? > Tobias asked. < I found some small change near the interstate today. >
< Does that mean cinnamon buns? > Ax asked excitedly.
< Yeah, sure. Buns for you. Burger for me. Works out good. > Tobias said. < How much money you have saved up? >
< I have two strips of paper with twenty printed on them and then a few silver discs. > Ax responded.
< Change you mean? >
< Whatever you may wish to call it, friend Tobias. >
< Then maybe we could go get some other things too. >
< May I suggest a book? > Ax asked.
< Sure. > Tobias answered. < It’s your money. >
Ax morphed his bird of prey and launched off the ground to Tobias who was already in the air. In a matter of minutes they were at the roof of the mall putting on hoarded clothes. Ax didn’t have trouble anymore with putting on clothes. He had now memorized that shirts go on the upper torso, pants go on the two unsteady legs, and socks and shoes go on the feet. It was quite simple now.
They started down the stairs to the second floor of the mall which was only two stories in the first place. Tobias looked at his friend.
"Where to first?" he asked.
"Walden’s?" Ax offered. "I would rather eat last."
"Yeah, that may be a good idea," Tobias agreed, humored.
They walked through the crowd that was always at a constant roar. It seemed like the humans wanted to drown out the sound of the music on the loudspeakers. He didn’t blame them. He hated human music. Most of it hurt his ears and some just simply made no since–only because he was ignorant to a lot of human nature at the moment.
They entered the bookstore Tobias only sticking around because he was afraid of what Ax might do. There’s no telling, he thought. He might just eat a cook book because of the pictures. Or maybe the children's Scratch 'n Sniff?
The only book Ax owned was an Almanac and a Guinness Book of World records. He kind of wanted a bit more selection. I mean, he’s read the book at least ten times over a piece. He could go with more. He picked up a hard back book and read the jacket. It seemed to be a very popular book because there was a full page, plus one half, on praise from different newspapers and magazines. People, Life, Time Magazine, Rolling Stones.
That was odd. He was told the Rolling Stones was a band not a magazine. He shrugged it off and placed the book back down. Ax turned around just to see where Tobias had went to. He was at a wall with many magazines.
He watched Tobias pick one up and then Ax turned away to look at a few other books. He skipped the Children’s Section and Readings for Young Adults. He didn’t care for fiction so he skipped that also. Non-fiction was most interesting to him. It was sometimes hard for him to keep track of what humans defined as real and false information.
Ax wandered into the history section. There were particular rows for particular things. War–he shivered at the thought when he was actually involved a human-against-human war,–photographs including scenes from National Geographics, physics, evolution, valuables, tragedies. It was amazing to see so much information and what added onto his awe was that this wasn’t even half of it.
He picked up a book that was by Tom Brokol. It was the sequel to a previous novel he had written about World War II. It sounded interesting because it was about more than the war. It was about the people who lived through it. And then, this novel had even more praise than the other novel he had picked up earlier. He looked at the sticker that told the price. The price was scratched out and replaced to half off. It was quite reasonable. He plucked the first book off the shelf also.
He stilled scanned the long row of shelves to see if there was something even better. He stopped at one book that was close to horrifying. The title said something about a Holocaust. He didn’t know what this Holocaust was but a few synonyms for it were annihilation, massacre, butchery.
Extermination.
On the cover, there was a picture of brick compound. A thick wall surrounded the area while on the inside there were four long building. Spiraling the top of the wall were two, maybe three, sets of bobbed wire. There were thousands of specks roaming the inner side of the compound. He was guessing they were humans. Out of curiosity he picked up the book but soon put it back down with a nauseated stomach.
Ax flipped through one of the Brokol novels when he noticed something out of the corner of his eye. He shifted his eyes over but didn’t move his head. Jennifer was standing there flipping through a book. Even though she didn’t look at him, his gaze went back to the novel, but now his mind was not paying attention to it at all. He then closed the book after a minute or so.
Ax walked up to Jennifer.
"Hello," Ax said.
She looked up at him, this time not startled at all. One corner of her lips pulled up to give a sideways grin. "It seems as if our poths cross a lot," she said.
"Yes, it seems," Ax answered. This time he would remember not to play with the tantalizing vibrations that his tongue made, especially the -ings, -puhs, and Z sounds. They were the most fun to play with.
"Whot are you doing ‘ere?" she asked.
"I’m just with a friend. We were going to pay for a small number of items and then get some small morsel at the Food Court." His heart fluttered rapidly.
"Well, I’m just possing through. A good book is ollways nice to have," she said, putting the book back. "So fa’ I’ve found nothing."
"I have found a few but I’m not so sure I want them yet," Ax said, noting the books in his hand.
She nodded to the books. "Those two are fairly good books if I say so myself. Are you interested in history or something?"
"Yyyyes? . . ." he hesitated through the word. "I guess you could say that."
"Fiction is a favorite of mine. Not oll though. Some are just totally out of the question." She walked down the aisle still looking for a book. Ax followed. "So whot is this ‘small morsel’ in which you were talking about?" she asked, not looking up.
Ax got a tad bit excited with the thought of food he was going to eat later. The feelings for this human were washed away momentarily. "I was thinking about a cinnamon bun. They seem very hard to stay away from."
She glanced up from the corner of her eye. "It seems it’s not the only thing." She looked back to the shelf and plucked a novel from it.
Ax blushed. "Um, yes," he flashed a nervous smile, "It seems . . ." he answered, watching her read the inner jacket of the book.
He watched her nod to herself, as if appeased by finding the right book, and she kept it with her.
"Would you like to join me?" Ax finally asked.
She looked up at him. "I’m sorry. I con’t today. There is much needed to be done at home."
"Well, maybe I could help?" he offered.
"No, my house is a mess. Mother and father would not allow it," Jennifer said, pushing a stray lock of hair out of her face.
"Then can I meet you some other time?" Ax had no Earthly idea as to why he was doing this. Not one clue, but it seemed the right thing to do to him.
"Maybe," she answered. She pulled some folded bills out of her pocket and counted what she had while she talked. "I wouldn’t mind it at oll. Just not today."
They started walking up to the check out counter.
"Mind if I ask what you were doing in that computer store the other day?" Ax asked.
"Our computer at home crashed so I came ‘ere to finish a project," she answered with no hesitation.
"How did you get the password?"
"My brothuh gave it to me. He started working there just a few days ago," she answered, and still no hesitation which made Ax just a bit suspicious. But all he said was, "Oh."
She was handed a plastic bag with her book and receipt tucked inside. He placed his two books on the counter.
"Ax was it?" she asked.
"Actually," he pulled his money out of his pocket, which was less organized than Jennifer’s, "my name is Philip."
"You hov three names?" she asked, amused.
"Axel is a nickname which," he was handed his bag, "my friends call me by. I do not care much for it."
"Didn’t yo’ friend say yo’ real name was Axel?"
"He was only playing a joke. Jake is my cousin and it seems he always wants to embarrass me in some way or another," Ax lied. He thought it was very convincing for something made off the top of his head. "It was my other cousin, Rachel, who shortened ‘Axel’ to ‘Ax.’ I rather prefer ‘Ax’ to ‘Axel.’"
"And why?" Jennifer was about to walk out of the store and Ax was about to follow when he remembered Tobias was still in there. It wouldn’t be just to leave him there alone so Ax stopped.
"I have reasons," Ax answered, casually. He glanced around the store for Tobias. Their eyes locked.
< Go ahead. > Tobias said. < I’ll be okay by myself. >
< Are you sure? >
< Positive. Just meet me on the roof forty-five minutes from now. >
"Okay," Ax whispered.
"Whot?" Jennifer asked.
"Huh?" Ax didn’t know he said it out loud.
"Okay whot? You said ‘okay’."
"Oh, sorry. My mind had wandered. Would you like to get a cinnamon bun with me?" Ax asked. "I can pay."
She glanced at her watch. "Yes, I guess I con spare the time but not fo’ long."
Amanda laughed at something Marco said. To Marco, her laugh was so wonderful to his ears. Oh, it just pierced his heart.
"The movie was great," Amanda said. "Thanks for taking me."
"No problem. What else was there to do?" he stated. "So you’re serious when you say you hate chick flicks?"
"Oh, of course. The cliche is always the same," she held one hand out, palm up, "Boy meets girl," she held her other hand up the same way, "Girl meets boy," she clasped her hands together, "They fall in love," she pulled her hands apart, "They get mad at each other and then they go back to each other. It’s so boring unless you get a nuke stuck in between them and one’s a spy, or some alien slime kidnaps another, or you have a building blow up along with a bunch of boats colliding into one another, or something in that sort of way."
"You have one imagination," Marco grinned.
"It just grows on you I guess," she smiled.
The movie theater was the only thing in the mall left open at the time of night. Through the window the sun was starting to set. It was setting late because summer had approached, finally.
"Hopefully I’ll be staying in this town longer than I have been in the others," Amanda said.
"What others?" Marco looked over to her and asked.
"I bet I’ve been to at least twenty schools in four years."
"Twenty?"
"Yeah," she looked down. "My dad’s tracking something. I don’t know what it is but he’s tracking something."
"Why?"
"I don’t know. It started when my mother died," she sighed.
"I’m sorry," Marco said.
She pushed her hair behind her ear. "Yeah, I am too. I don’t really remember what she looks like either."
Marco wrapped an arm around her waist. "My mother died, too. A little more than two years ago."
"Then it seems we have something in common," Amanda said.
"Not one that I really like," Marco stated.
She smiled. "There’ll be others."
"Hopefully."
"Well," Marco’s voice perked up, "wasn’t that movie good, or what?"
"Slick, Marco," she said. "Slick."
"Only doing my job."
Four
Ax walked down the street alone in human morph. It was relatively deserted, besides, his destination wasn't too far off. It would be a quick trip to the entrance of a Yeerk Pool. He had a screwdriver handy for the job, too.
The buildings he passed were apartment buildings. The thought of living on top of or underneath another living thing was just greatly disturbing to him. It was probably the Andalite phobia kicking at him.
He seemed to notice that everything humans built were cubical. Logical things came in spheres–no corners at all–not blocks. That's how Andalites built things. It was according to the few logical things. Round edges were also more aerodynamic than these things. But his brain was kind of rattling on about hodgepodge things. It seemed to him that he had already thought of everything in the world since he crash landed in this death trap.
He rubbed behind his ear at an itch and then looked at the sidewalk. These legs were just too unstable. Looking down and walking was much easier than looking up and walking. He glanced around to notice that the street was deserted except for a small group mingling in an alley not far off.
Ax looked up to see the two golden arches held up on a pole. That was the place. McDonald's. He wished to meet this McDonald character one day in order to applaud his efforts. The small place always had the delightful scent of grease, salt, pickles, ketchup, and the various apple pie that came along. He would have to remember to ask for the golden wrapped, cinnamon-filled item when he asked for a Happy Meal with extra happy. If it had cinnamon in it, this creation must be something to arouse the human taste buds. But the happy. How could you possibly add happy to a beef product? Unless "happy" was the name of some secret sauce? He shrugged. You could never tell with humans. Always mixed up . . .
Ax suddenly stopped in his tracks. He heard something. The sound was coming from around the corner in an alley. There was the sound of flesh smacking flesh–a highly detested sound to Ax–and then a groan from what could be a female's voice.
"Just take it!" she pleaded. "I don't care fo' it. Just take it an' leave me alone."
He recognized the voice up front. It was Jennifer. There was a smack and then unidentifiable words coming from the molester. Ax darted around to the alley. He stopped at the entrance. Three grungy men were standing over the crumpled form of Jennifer. They looked very strong, not something Ax could go up against with his human morph. They looked at him and then they ran the other way along with a purse.
Ax ran up to Jennifer and kneeled next to her. She looked badly beat. A cut eyebrow, bruised cheek, and blood trickled from her nose and the corner of her mouth.
"What happened?" Ax asked, frantically.
She put a delicate hand on Ax's shoulder to get up. He helped her to her feet.
"Domn Yanks," she mumbled. Her hand went to her forehead. "Do you think you escort me home?"
"Yes. Where do you live?"
"Two streets down," Jennifer answered.
They started out of the alley, his arm set secure around her waist and her arm draped over his shoulder. She couldn't really keep her balance just yet. They stopped at the front door to one apartment building. She stood there for a moment. Ax turned his head back to see if the three humans had been following him.
Why did they run the other way?
When he looked back, he noticed she was placing a brass object into the doorknob. A primitive form of security, he noted.
The interior of the building was clean and well kept. Maybe because the building was fairly new. Ever since the Yeerks came into play the city was getting more money. How? Ax could only guess and it seems he was the only one that had noticed. When researching at the library, he had stumbled upon old newspaper articles dated before his time on Earth, relatively thirty to forty years earlier, when Visser One started the little foundation of the Sharing. She must have made it to where all prosiest go to the city. That would make it much more popular with the mayor and make less suspicion when something occurred. Of course, that was only Ax's Andalite prediction.
They got off the elevator and walked down the hall, Jennifer at a slight limp.
"This is it," she pointed to a door. Ax led her to it. When they were inside, she let go of him.
It was a nice apartment. In front of the entrance, there was a living room with the regular apparel; sofa, recliner, coffee table, television set. To his left was a kitchen. Right: bedrooms. It was a small apartment which kind of aggravated Ax's phobia.
While Ax was too busy looking at the room, Jennifer was walking to the right, down the hall. She stumbled and launched a hand out to grab the wall. Ax was there immediately to help her.
"Thank you," she said softly.
"No problem," he said, hearing the phrase from Marco a few times. "What happened, exactly?"
She walked into a bedroom that he could only guess was hers. There were posters of bands hanging everywhere, from Alabama to Alice Cooper, there was a television, speakers, bed, night stand, and dresser drawers with a large mirror placed on top. The only window was a door that went to a small balcony.
He looked out the window for a second and scanned the scene. It had a lovely scene of a wall and a small stretch of blue sky. Perched on a few ledges was a flock of pigeons. On another was some small species of hawk. He glanced down but then looked away quickly. Ooo, heights were even worse. They were on the fifth floor.
"I . . . I was just woking home from the mall an' they came out of nowhere," she sat down on the bed, "and just . . . I don't know. They took my purse. It had pretty much everything in it."
"It seems," Ax couldn't help but stare at her face, "that the city can clean up only a few things."
"Is something wrong?" she touched her cheek and winced. Then she got up to look into the mirror.
"Yes . . . a bit . . ." Ax said.
She groaned in disgust. "Those bostods . . ."
"It just needs a little cleaning up," Ax offered.
He went to the bathroom, grabbed a washcloth, and wetted it in the sink. He came back to her room.
"I'm sorry to put you through this much trouble," she said. "I--"
"It's okay," Ax held her chin between to fingers and gently wiped the blood from her lip. She winced and he hesitated only momentarily. "I have nothing else to do," he lied. It could wait, he assured himself.
"So this is where you live?" Ax asked, trying to make small talk. And also trying to take the uneasy feeling he was getting away because she was staring intently into his eyes for some reason.
"Yes," she answered. "Why do you osk?"
"It's just a bit cramped, don't you think?" he asked. He noticed a brown birthmark on her neck about as big as his fist.
She shook her head slightly. "Not a bit."
Ax pushed away at the feelings inside of him. The more he saw of her, the more he realized she wasn't an Andalite. But the longer he was near her the more he wanted to tell her the truth, but he couldn't do that. He couldn't tell anyone. He started to push back those feelings for her again. They were useless, and for the moment, unwanted.
She finally looked past Ax and she became alarmed. She got up. Ax decided then that he should go for more reasons than one.
"I need to go," Ax said.
She nodded and when she started to help him out she glanced out of the window. But only briefly to where Ax didn't see.
She leaned against the door. "Thank you. Again, I'm sorry to bothah you."
"Oh, it's okay. There was no harm done," Ax assured. "I hope to see you feeling better soon enough."
She smiled. "Thanks."
Totally shocking, totally unexpected, totally unplanned. Jennifer kissed Ax fondly and then closed the door. Ax stood there just a tad bit stunned but then turned around to leave.
"So this is where you live?" Marco asked, looking up at the apartment building.
"Yeah," Amanda answered. "Not much is it."
"Well, I used to live in one, but it wasn't really this good," Marco admitted. "But we got a better one later. And then a house."
"That's what did says. Whenever we do settle down, he'll get a house. But now," she nodded to the door, "this is what I'm stuck with." There was a moment of silence before she asked if he wanted to come up.
"Sure, sure," Marco answered. "I got," he looked at his watch, "nothing else to do."
They climbed the stairs and went through the door. After taking a trip in the elevator, five stories up, they ended up at her door.
"Yeah," Marco whispered, "much better place than what I lived in."
"I'm sorry you had to go through that," Amanda said, even though she wasn't really sure what he had gone through.
"Just glad you don't go through it."
"Whelp, this is home, sweet home," Amanda sighed.
The door faced a lovely living room with sofa, recliner, and television set. To the left, there was the kitchen. To the right, the bedrooms.
"Cozy little place," Marco said.
Amanda nodded. "What something to drink or something?"
"No thanks."
She shrugged to herself and started down the hall to her bedroom. Marco followed.
"So, you have any siblings or anything?" Marco asked, looking at some of the pictures he passed on the wall.
"Nope, only child. No relatives for bunches of miles," Amanda stated. "Just me and my ol' man."
"Same here."
Marco looked around her room. Posters of bands ranging from Alabama to Alice Cooper and then the various movie poster. Bed, night stand, dresser drawers with a mirror placed on top, televison and speakers, and small, little balcony.
"Nice," Marco commented.
"Like I said, just me and my ol' man. No brother or sister to share
anything with."
"Pretty good deal if I say so myself," Marco nodded.