The Reaction

by K. A. Applegate

  I grinned. "I have a natural talent for spending money. What can I say? It's my burden to bear."

  54 Cassie got serious. "Okay. Talk to me. What happened?"

  "What? You mean you don't believe that the floor of my bedroom just happened to fall in?"

  She shook her head. "No."

  I took a big bite of the burger, chewed, and swallowed. "I think I must have fallen asleep. I was clicking around some Web sites. . . . Suddenly, I was morphing into that big crocodile from today." I shrugged and took another bite.

  "You just started morphing?"

  "Yeah. I don't know ... I mean, I thought I was awake. But I must have been dreaming."

  "Uh-uh. I dream all the time," Cassie said. "I've never morphed in my sleep."

  I didn't want to dismiss the possibility it was a dream that caused me to morph. The alternative- that I was just out of control - was worse. "Are you going to eat that salad? It cost like ten dollars."

  "We all have nightmares and stuff. None of us has ever just started morphing." Cassie dug into her salad. But she was watching me all the time.

  I concentrated on my burger. "What can I say? That must be what happened. I must have had a nightmare."

  "And you morphed the croc and it made the floor fall in?"

  I shifted nervously. "Okay, look, actually, it

  55 was my elephant morph. See, I think what happened is that maybe I just dreamed the part about morphing the crocodile. Because then I went straight into another morph, and then . . . when I woke up ... I was an elephant."

  Cassie looked down at her plate like she was embarrassed. "Rachel. It's me, okay? Me. Cassie. Your best friend. I know when you're not telling the complete truth."

  That killed off what was left of my appetite. I put the burger down. "Okay, look. I don't know what happened, all right? I was on-line, I was getting kind of logy the way I do when I'm staring at a computer screen. Then all of a sudden I'm going crocodile."

  "We have to talk to Ax about this. He's an Andalite. Maybe it's some normal thing that happens sometimes."

  "It better not be something that just happens," I said. "I could have killed Jordan and Sara. It was just dumb luck that they were in the living room, not the kitchen."

  Cassie nodded. "Yeah. Well, we need to talk to Ax."

  I reached across the table and took her hand. "But not Jake, okay? He'll just get all responsible. He won't let me do anything. He'll tell me to stay home."

  "That's what you should do."

  56 "No." I shook my head violently. "What I need is to stay focused. The more focused I am, the less likely that will ever happen again. I'm not going to let it happen." I really hoped that was true.

  I picked up my burger. Cassie stared at me for a while, then she started picking at her salad again.

  "Okay," she said after a while. "But we talk to Ax."

  "Deal," I said.

  "By the way. It turns out Jeremy Jason Mc-Cole is already in town."

  "What?"

  She nodded. Then she smiled. "It was on Entertainment Tonight. He's staying on this big yacht owned by some movie producer. He's out on the bay right now."

  "We still need to figure out if he's already a Controller or not," I said. "I asked Jordan what she'd do if she thought there was some way she could get close to Jeremy Jason McCole. She basically said she'd walk barefoot over broken glass."

  "I'm not surprised," Cassie said. "A year ago I'd probably have been right behind her." She grinned crookedly. "Love is a powerful force."

  I attacked my burger again. "So? We go see

  57 Jeremy Jason on this yacht? The movie producer guy could be a Controller."

  "That's what Jake and Marco and Tobias and Ax and I already talked about. We thought tomorrow after school we'd maybe go out there and take a look."

  "Jake, Marco ... all of them? They're corning, too?"

  "Somehow they don't seem to exactly trust you and me alone with Jeremy Jason."

  "On a yacht, huh?" Rachel mused. "He'll probably be lying out in a bathing suit."

  "Mmmm."

  "Mmm-hmm."

  58

  I woke up approximately fifty times during the night. I kept having to check to make sure I was human. And I had some seriously odd dreams. In one, I morphed into Jeremy Jason and then got fly eyes.

  Not a good night's sleep. My dad came in from the next room at about four in the morning to tell me I woke him up talking in my sleep.

  "You were yelling, 'Crocodile not alligator!'" he said.

  Fortunately, he just figured it was stress from the insane day I'd had. He was right. But he didn't know half of it.

  I took a taxi from the hotel to school. It beat

  59 taking the bus, that's for sure. Maybe Cassie was right. Maybe I'll have to be rich when I grow up.

  For the first couple of periods I had to put up with kids saying brilliant things like, "Hey! It's Crocodile Dundee!" And, "Stay away from me. You'll make the school fall down."

  And then there were the people who actually seemed jealous. "I guess you think you're cool just because you nearly got killed twice in one day," one girl said.

  "Yeah, that's right," I said. "Later, just to prove how cool I am, I'm going to jump off a cliff."

  By the time lunch was over, most people had gotten the message that I didn't really want to talk about it.

  Then I was called to the assistant principal's office.

  Chapman's off ice.

  I guess I should explain. Chapman is one of them. He's a high-ranking Controller. He's one of the leaders of The Sharing.

  He once came very close to having me killed. Not that he knew it was me, really. But still, I kind of resented it.

  I walked the empty hallway, clutching my hall pass and wondering how I was going to escape if Chapman was waiting for me with a bunch of Hork-Bajir warriors.

  60 "Rachel, come on in, come on in. Have a seat."

  Chapman looks perfectly normal. He's a little bald, but normal-looking. That's the problem with Controllers: They don't look any different.

  "Urn, what's this about, Mr. Chapman?" I asked nervously. I was playing the role of any normal kid who gets called to the assistant principal's office. It was easy to act nervous.

  He waved his hand dismissively. "I just wanted to talk to the big celebrity."

  I sat down, but I stayed tense and ready to spring into action. Did Chapman suspect? Had he figured out that I hadn't just fallen into the crocodile pit? Had he figured out that I was the crocodile who had carried the little boy to safety?

  I was dead meat if he had. The Yeerks believe we are a group of Andalite bandits. See, they know they're getting attacked by a group of people who can morph. It just never occurs to them that humans could morph.

  If they knew the truth . . . well, there's a good reason we keep the truth a secret.

  "So."

  "So," I agreed.

  "Yesterday was quite a day for you," Chapman said.

  "Yes, sir."

  "You were very lucky. Twice."

  61 "Yes. I guess so. But I guess the way I look at it, I was unlucky twice."

  He nodded like I'd said something deep. "No injuries?"

  I shook my head. "No."

  "Amazing," he said. Then he narrowed his eyes and stared hard at me. "Rachel. Your grades have dropped this last semester. Not a lot. But your teachers think you aren't applying yourself the way you used to."

  "I still have an A average," I pointed out.

  "Barely."

  I squirmed in my seat. This was insane. I wasn't sure if I was being interrogated by a dangerous Controller who suspected my true identity. Or if I was just being lectured about my grades by an assistant principal.

  "Has anything changed in your life lately?"

  I almost swallowed my tongue. Had anything changed? Like, for example, being given the power to morph by a dying alien and ending up fighting an invasion of Earth by parasite slugs from outer space?

  "Urn .
. . nope," I said. "No big changes."

  He smiled an understanding smile. "Your parents got divorced, didn't they? And didn't your father move away?"

  I tried not to look too relieved. But I definitely sighed. "Oh, yeah. Oh, that. Urn, yes. Maybe

  62 that's why my grades are down a little. That must be it. You know, the trauma and all."

  I felt my feet itching. It was a strange thing to notice right then, with Chapman staring at me like I was some mystery he was trying to understand. B ut they were definitely itching. And I was feeling flushed . . . warm all over.

  "Well, as you may or may not know, Rachel, I am the local head of a wonderful group called The Sharing."

  And that's when my heart stopped beating.

  63

  My heart missed about four beats before it started up again, going a hundred miles an hour. "Uh-huh," I said, trying not to let the adrenaline rush overwhelm me.

  Get ready, I told myself. Get ready.

  "We like to think we offer some help to kids who may be going through a bad time," Chapman said. "We have an awful lot of fun. Camp-outs. Bonfire barbecues on the beach. Just a month or so back we had a big waterskiing trip up to a mountain lake."

  I could have said, "Yes, I know. We were there, too, but not exactly in human shapes."

  Instead I said, "That sounds like fun."

  "It is fun," Chapman said with total sincerity.

  64 "And a lot of our members are kids who come from troubled homes. Kids with problems. But they're also kids who want to make life better. They're hopeful, optimistic kids. When I saw you handling yourself so well on the news last night I thought, you know, I should offer Rachel this opportunity. She's just the kind of person who could really benefit from The Sharing."

  "How did I look on TV?" I asked.

  "Very self-possessed. Very attractive and very mature."

  "Cool."

  "But. . ." He sighed. "I have to wonder at the same time if maybe you don't have some problems in your life. I mean, the stories all say you fell into the crocodile pit..."

  I held my breath. Here it comes! He suspects!

  ". . . but I don't believe in accidents. I have to wonder if maybe you have some problems that made you, shall we say, careless."

  I barked out a laugh. Then I stopped myself. He thought I was suicidal! Did he think I'd sawed through the floor of my house, too? Good grief. That's why he was trying to recruit me for The Sharing. He thought I was depressed or whatever. A perfect recruit for his little Controller organization.

  Yeah, right. Where do I sign up, Mr. Chap-

  65 man? Could there be a special discount on dues for Animorphs?

  I shook my head. "No. Actually, I'm very happy."

  Once again, a feeling like pins and needles of warmth swarming over me. I shifted my feet. The feeling was familiar. . .

  Oh, no!

  Oh, no! My feet!

  I looked down and it took every single ounce of my self-control to keep the look of horror from my face.

  My feet were swelling. They were growing thick, shaggy brown fur. They were swelling and straining my shoes. The laces were strained tight.

  "I know you say everything is fine, Rachel, but -"

  SNAP!

  He frowned. "What was that?"

  SNAP!

  "Nothing," I said in a squeaky voice.

  "I heard something pop."

  My laces had snapped from the pressure. I shook my head. "No."

  "Anyway, what I was saying, was . . . Rachel? Are you listening?"

  No, I wasn't listening. I was busy trying to see

  66 if any other parts of me were turning into grizzly bear. Because, see, that's what it was. I'd seen those feet before. They were bear feet.

  "Urn, yes! Yes. I am listening very closely!"

  Oh, please! No way! I can't morph here! Not right in Chapman's office. I focused. I concentrated. Demorph!

  Chapman just kept droning on. On and on about The Sharing. And all the while, my shoes were torn to ribbons. And my legs, from the knees down, grew shaggy with long, rough brown fur. And hard nails grew where my toes had been.

  "Anyway," Chapman said, suddenly glancing at his watch. "I'm going on and on. And you need to get back to class."

  "What?" I asked frantically.

  "Just think about it, Rachel," Chapman said. "Now, go straight back to class. No dawdling."

  I gulped. What could I do?

  I bent over and quickly stuffed the torn remnants of my shoes into my backpack.

  My feet were like huge, fur boots.

  In fact . . .

  I stood up and headed for the door. I paused with my hand on the knob. I turned back and saw Chapman staring hard at my feet.

  "Oh, you like my new boots?" I asked.

  Chapman smiled. "The things you kids will wear."

  67 "Heh-heh. Yeah, I guess I'm just a fashion victim."

  I got out of there fast. By the time I made it to the girls' room my feet had returned to normal. I walked barefoot to the gym and got my gym shoes.

  I was shaking more than I had from falling into the crocodiles the day before.

  After all, a crocodile can only kill you. Chapman is a Yeerk. And they can do things that make plain old death seem easy.

  68

  I meant to ask Ax about my little problem. I had promised Cassie I would. But right after school we had the mission. And if I'd brought it up then, everyone would have made me stay home.

  Maybe that would have been the smart thing to do.

  But it seemed to me that the sudden, surprise morphing had occurred just twice. The first time it had been a total catastrophe. But the second time only my feet had morphed.

  Obviously, whatever was the matter with me, I was getting better. Probably it would never even happen again.

  Probably.

  69 I called my dad on his cell phone when I got out of school. "Daddy? Are you in a meeting or anything?"

  "No, honey, I'm outside the courthouse waiting for this man I'm supposed to be interviewing. What's up? Are you okay?"

  "Yeah, I haven't fallen into anything or had any buildings collapse on me. So far. I just wanted to let you know I'll be hanging with Cassie. We'll probably go to the mall or the library or something."

  "Okay. Well, be sure to be back at the hotel by six, okay? I want to have dinner with you. Take a cab. Do you have enough money?"

  "Yes. I'll see you for dinner."

  Then I called my mom at work, got her voice mail, and left the same basic message.

  It was sad how easy lying had become for me. I guess a lot of kids lie occasionally to their parents. But I have to do it way too much. Someday I'll be able to tell everyone the whole truth. That will be a relief.

  Anyway, we were all supposed to meet up in the air above the beach. That was the plan. All of us except Ax and Tobias had the perfect morphs for the occasion. But it was one I hadn't used in a longtime.

  The tricky part was finding a safe place to morph. I headed for the stand of trees beyond

  70 the athletic field. Unfortunately, kids went there sometimes, and I couldn't risk being seen.

  Fortunately, Tobias arrived to help.

  «Hey, Rachel. If you can hear me, scratch your head.»

  I scratched my head and casually looked up to the sky. I spotted the red-tailed hawk outlined against a fluffy white cloud.

  «There are three people in the stand of woods, but they're walking away. They'll be gone by the time you get there.»

  I couldn't answer because you can only make thought-speak when you're in a morph. But I trusted Tobias totally. Hawk eyes are about ten times better than human eyes. Tobias could have told me how many mice and rats and skunks and toads and squirrels were in that stand of woods. Let alone how many big, noisy, clunky humans were there.

  I walked quickly into the trees. There was a ton of trash: soda cans and chip wrappers and McDonald's bags. I laughed, because for the morph I was going into, this was li
ke the perfect world.

  «You're still clear,» Tobias called down. «Four guys heading toward you from the school, but you'll be out of there before they arrive.»

  I nodded. Then I focused on the morph. And I tried not to focus on the fact that morphing had

  71 gotten very weird since the day before. Like it was normal the rest of the time.

  I began to shrink very quickly. Pine needles and dead leaves and beer cans and assorted trash all came rushing up.

  Shrinking is weird because it's so much like falling. You don't think, Oh, I'm getting small. You think, Oh, I'm falling!

  You fall and fall and fall, but somehow you never actually land. It's just that a can that started off seeming to be as big as your foot becomes as big as half your body. And a McDonald's bag that you could have stepped on is now so large you could crawl inside it. Leaves smaller than your hand are now as big as those little bathroom rugs.

  As I shrank, I could see my flesh turning white. White as snow. White as paper. And then, when I was a creepy, shrinking ghost, the feather patterns begin to appear. They were tiny, close, delicate feathers. Much smaller than the owl or eagle morphs I used.

  My teeth melded together and began to force themselves outward, forming a single hornlike protrusion. It pushed out and split open horizontally, creating a hooked beak.

  I spread my arms wide and saw that they were already wings. Not the broad, powerful wings of

  72 an eagle. Shorter, sharper, narrower, more acrobatic wings.

  I had become the bird that is never endangered. The bird that lives on all seven of the seven continents. The bird that seems to thrive in every environment.

  I was the mighty seagull.

  Eater of fish, french fries, melted candy, eggs, Burger King Whoppers, popcorn, beef jerky, pickle slices, maraschino cherries, cheese puffs, burritos, and basically any other food that has ever been invented.

  King of scavengers! Lord of the trash!

  I flapped my wings and took to the sky. I flapped hard and rose to treetop level. And below me, the beauty of the world was revealed to my alert, seagull vision.

  Food was everywhere! Everywhere humans threw garbage was a restaurant to me. The Dumpster behind the school! The parking lot of the convenience store! I saw it all. I spotted every blowing candy wrapper. I noted every single bit of road kill.