The Sickness

by K. A. Applegate

  “Hey, Marco. Wait up.” I chased down the street until I caught up to him. I’d been hoping I’d find him on his way home from school. “I talked to Tidwell. Visser Three is coming back early.”

  “Do you remember ‘Five Little Monkeys’?” Marco asked me, grinning a loopy grin.

  “Did you hear me?” I demanded. “We’ve got to get Aftran out today. But I think I have a plan.”

  “It was a song. More of a chant, I guess. With little hand gestures,” Marco continued. Totally ignoring me.

  “It went like this.” Marco began talking in a rhythmic singsong. “‘Five little monkeys jumping on the bed. One fell off and broke his head. Mama called the doctor and the doctor said —’”

  I chanted the last line with Marco. “‘No more monkeys jumping on the bed.’ Yeah, yeah, can we move on?”

  “Then it would start again. Except with four little monkeys jumping on the bed,” Marco said.

  I circled around in front of him and walked backward so I could look at him while I talked. “I remember it. Now, do you want to play jump rope or do you want to hear my plan?”

  “We’re the five little monkeys,” Marco said, staring me in the eye. “Well, six. Three of us already fell off the bed. Now there are only three of us left. Monkey Cassie. Monkey Tobias. And Monkey Marco.”

  He gave a few halfhearted oooh-oooh-ooohs and scratched himself under the arms cartoon monkey-style.

  “You’re scared, aren’t you?” I asked. I dropped back into step beside him.

  “Yeah, I’m scared. Of course I’m scared,” he shot back. “Ax could die. And we’re getting ready to go into the Yeerk pool with half our usual fighting force. Half! That is unless another one of us keels over in the next couple hours. Which could happen.”

  “You’re feeling okay so far though, right?” I asked. I reached out and pressed my wrist against his forehead.

  Kind of warm. Kind of clammy.

  But we’d been walking. Marco had probably just worked up a sweat.

  “My eyes feel kind of weird. Kind of gummy,” Marco admitted. “But they showed a film in Health today.”

  “That could do it.”

  “I guess now that Rachel’s out of it, I get to be in charge,” Marco said.

  “Yep. You’re the man,” I answered.

  “So since I’m the leader, I should hear about this plan of yours then,” he said. Marco shifted his backpack to the opposite shoulder. Then switched it right back.

  “I talked to Mr. Tidwell at lunch. He told me himself he’s willingly participating in the Yeerk peace movement. He thinks it’s the most important work he could do,” I explained. Marco didn’t jump in with any nasty comment, so I kept talking. “Illim, Mr. Tidwell’s Yeerk, told me he could survive for several hours if he’s in liquid. He doesn’t have to be in the Yeerk pool or anything.”

  I took a deep breath. “I thought I could morph him, and —”

  “You want to morph a Yeerk?” Marco demanded. He started to make loud barfing noises.

  “I know it’s kind of desperate, but …”

  My voice trailed off as Marco leaned into the bushes and threw up.

  I moved up behind him and rested my hand on his back. Finally Marco’s back stopped heaving. He straightened up and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. Then he turned to face me.

  “Another monkey just fell off the bed,” he said. Then, with a crooked smile, he added, “Poor Cassie.”

  I tried to smile bravely. But I wasn’t feeling brave. I was feeling scared and alone.

  “Got to think about one thing,” Marco said weakly.

  “What?”

  “What if … what if you pull it off?”

  Then he collapsed. And I was too busy hauling him back up to his feet to think about what he’d just said.

  Only later did it occur to me. Marco had seen the fatal flaw.

  If I succeeded. If I rescued Aftran. Then what? I’d have an outlaw Yeerk, without a host, and worse by far, without access to life-giving Kandrona rays.

  I could save Aftran. Only to watch her die.

  Tobias announced from his perch as I rushed into the barn.

  I did a little math in my head. I’d been gone for about nine hours. Ax’s temperature had gone down one point six degrees. So he was losing not quite two points an hour. So we had about eight hours before he hit the crisis.

  “Visser Three’s coming back tonight,” I told Tobias. I filled him in on my conversation with Mr. Tidwell and my plan.

  “I should make it back from the Yeerk pool before Ax needs us to operate,” I said.

  If I made it back.

  I started toward Ax’s stall.

  Tobias said.

  “You might have to do it yourself. The surgery,” I said. “You’ll have to try to get Ax to tell you where the gland is. You can use that little room my dad uses when he has to set bones and stuff. There are supplies in there.”

  Tobias asked.

  “Yeah,” I answered.

  Tobias said.

  “I’ll skip the post-saving-the-world party,” I promised.

  I wanted to be here when Ax hit the crisis. But I wasn’t sure I’d be able to do much more than Tobias could. Yeah, I knew how to splint a bird’s broken wing and stuff a pill down a raccoon’s throat.

  But that wasn’t brain surgery. Not even close.

  One cut in the wrong place, and Ax could lose his ability to thought-speak. Or breathe. It would be so easy to cause him permanent damage. So easy to kill him.

  How could I live knowing I had killed a friend?

  That reminded me of Aftran. She was a friend, too. And pulling her out of the Yeerk pool meant excruciating Kandrona starvation unless I could think of a solution.

  I didn’t know how Jake did it. How did he make life-or-death decisions and not go insane with guilt and grief?

  Tobias said, pulling me out of my thoughts.

  “You should,” I said. He wanted to check on Rachel. “I need to head out in about an hour.”

  he promised. He beat wings out the hayloft window.

  I hurried over to Ax’s stall. When I opened the door, Ax and Erek appeared in front of me.

  “How are you guys doing?” I asked them.

  Ax said.

  “Paper beating rock. It is sort of weird,” I answered.

  Ax told me.

  I raised my eyebrows at Erek. He shrugged.

  Ax asked.

  “It’s up there,” I answered, giving his arm a quick pat.

  Ax pointed his stalk eyes toward the barn roof. he said.

  “I mean it’s a lot. A lot of money,” I explained.

  Ax kept his eyes focused upward. He took a step forward and a spasm raced through his body.

  “That’s okay,” Erek said. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll play more later, and you’ll win the money back from me.”

  Ax didn’t answer. He just kept staring at the ceiling.

  Erek leaned close to me. “He’s been like this all day,” he whispered. “He’ll seem okay. And then he loses it.”

  So he was still delirious part of the time.

  “Any close cal
ls with my dad?” I asked. I glanced at the stall door. From this side, the hologram looked like a smoky silver cloud. I could only see faint shapes and shadows out in the barn.

  “Tobias had to buzz the cages once. The animals all freaked, and that kept your dad busy,” Erek answered.

  “Just tell me you’re not going to get this stupid illness.”

  Erek smiled. “I’ve never been sick a day in my life. And I am really, really old.”

  I turned my attention to Ax. “Ax. Hey, Ax. Come on, stop staring up there. I need you to talk to me.”

  Ax slowly lowered his eye stalks.

  “Can you tell me where the Tria gland is? Can you point to the spot on your head?” I asked.

  Ax complained.

  Oh, man. He thought he was back in school.

  “This isn’t a test, Ax. You’re not going to be graded or anything,” I tried to reassure him. “Just take a guess. Where do you think the Tria gland is? I need to know.”

  Thump. Thump. Thump.

  Erek grabbed my shoulder and pointed into the barn. A dark shadow moved closer.

  It was my dad thumping through the barn in his clunky work boots. And he was heading right for us.

  I threw myself at the stall door and scrambled over. It had to look like I had materialized out of thin air.

  “You don’t have to do a thing out here,” I blurted. “I already fed and watered all the animals myself.”

  My dad peered over my shoulder. “Where were you hiding? I was sure the barn was empty when I came in.”

  “I was right here the whole time. Got to get those bifocals, Dad,” I said.

  My dad frowned. “You can’t fool me, Cassie,” he told me. “I know you were in that empty stall. And why.”

  My heart gave a hard double thump.

  “You do?” I asked.

  He nodded. “You were pretending you were a horse, weren’t you?” he asked.

  I hadn’t played that game where I pretended I was a horse since I was about five. Okay, maybe six.

  But I didn’t tell my dad that. I just gave him a weak smile. “Yeah. You caught me.”

  As soon as I got my dad out of the barn, I fed and watered the animals. I had to since I’d said I’d already done it.

  Then I headed to the corner of the barn where my dad has a little workbench. He’s not Joe Carpenter, but he did go through a spell where he was really into making birdhouses. Plus he makes cages sometimes and does repairs around the barn. So he had a decent selection of tools.

  I knew my dad had most of the stuff I would need for the Tria gland surgery in the operating room. But I didn’t think he’d have anything I could use to cut through Ax’s skull. My dad’s a great vet, but he doesn’t saw through bone much.

  I scanned the messy array of tools. Was there anything that could cut through bone?

  My dad had a saw with teeth I thought could handle the job. But the saw was way too long. Unless I was going to cut Ax’s head straight down the middle like a big melon …

  I squeezed my eyes shut against the gory image that popped into my mind. I tried to reassure myself. The Tria gland probably wasn’t too big. I’d only need to make a small hole.

  A small hole leading directly into Ax’s brain. Somehow that thought wasn’t all that comforting.

  I ran my eyes over the tools again. There was a power drill. That would definitely be able to make a hole through bone. But the hole would be too small.

  I saw a few more tools jammed behind a half-finished birdhouse. I picked it up, my fingers curling into the little round hole in the front.

  Hmmm. That little hole was probably about the size of the one I needed to make in Ax’s skull.

  I remembered what tool my dad used to make it. It’s called a hole saw. It looks sort of like a corkscrew. Except instead of a metal ring that fits around the top of a bottle, there is a little round saw.

  I rushed to the operating room, clicked on the fluorescent lights, and stashed the saw. Then I made a little pile of supplies I thought I might need: hemostats, retractors, scissors, syringes, surgical thread, cotton balls, bandages, betaine, alcohol.

  As I headed out of the operating room I heard a flapping sound. Then Tobias swooped through the hayloft.

  “How’s Rach —” I began.

  he answered as he headed toward his usual perch in the rafters.

  His words trailed off as he dropped lower for his landing. And lower.

  Way too low.

  “Tobias, watch out!” I screeched.

  THUMP!

  Tobias ran into the rafter headfirst.

  He plummeted.

  THUD!

  He landed on the barn floor. And lay still.

  “No! No, no, no!” I raced over to Tobias and dropped to my knees beside him.

  Gently I scooped him up. I couldn’t tell which was trembling. His body. Or my fingers holding his body.

  “Tobias, are you okay?” I crooned.

  He didn’t answer.

  “Tobias? Tobias!”

  he answered.

  A little groggy. But definitely alive.

  I slowly climbed to my feet, careful to keep from jarring him, and started toward the row of cages. “I’m going to have to put you next to a golden eagle. I know you hate them, but it’s the only room available right now.”

  Tobias gave a weak flutter in my hands. he demanded.

  “I’m going to get my dad to take care of you,” I answered. I slid him into the empty cage and latched the door.

  Tobias cried. He struggled to his feet and puffed his feathers.

  I grabbed a chart and noted that the red-tailed hawk appeared disoriented. I added that I thought it had stunned itself flying into one of the rafters.

  If there were other symptoms, my dad would know how to handle them. At least I didn’t have to worry about Tobias.

  I had to worry about Ax more. If he went into crisis while I was at the Yeerk pool, there would be no one to operate.

  Tobias gnawed on one of the cage’s metal bars with his beak. “Oh, just stop it,” I snapped. “You’re in the best place you can possibly be. I have no time, no time, NO TIME for any crap, okay?!”

  he said meekly.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Erek said from the last stall.

  I tried to get a grip on myself. I took a couple of deep breaths. Didn’t work. I wasn’t calm.

  Tobias was right, I thought as I rushed into the house. I was the leader now. The leader of one. The last little monkey jumping on the bed.

  I found my mom sitting at the computer. “I’m doing a report on animal brain surgery,” I told her. “Any books you think might help?”

  “Hmm.” My mother reached out and pulled a thick green book off the shelf over her head. “The introductory chapter in this one is pretty good.” She grabbed a thinner volume. “And this one has some good photos.”

  I took them from her. “Thanks. Rachel has the flu. I told her I’d keep her company a while, okay?”

  “Well, don’t you get it,” she said. She grabbed her coffee cup and took a swallow.

  I remembered the day she got that cup. She and my dad and I were at the amusement park part of The Gardens. They have one of those photo booths where you get your face put onto another body. We decided on all three of us as super models. My mom thought it was so hilarious she had it put on the cup.

  She and I always teased my dad about how he was the prettiest of the three of us. He’d always laugh and give us these outrageous beauty tips.

  “I’ll tell her,” I said. Lying, the way I’ve had to lie so often since that day Elfangor gave us the power to morph.

  “Um, bye.” I wished I could say something else, something more. It could be the last time I —

  I
rushed out of the house and back to the barn. I headed to Ax’s stall. I took a deep breath, then stepped inside.

  “How are you doing, Ax?” I asked.

  One of his stalk eyes swung a half turn toward me. That was all the reaction I got.

  “I just took his temperature again. Ninety-one point nine,” Erek said.

  It had dropped almost a whole degree in less than an hour. If it continued falling at this rate there was no possible way I’d be back in time.

  Tobias said there was no pattern to the way the temperature fell. I had to hope that it would slow down now.

  “Erek, Tobias is sick now, too. I had to put him in one of the cages,” I told him. “If Ax reaches his crisis before I get back …”

  I really didn’t want to say this. But I had to.

  “You can’t go to my father or anyone else for help,” I finished.

  What I was really telling Erek was he had to let Ax die.

  Erek nodded. “I understand.”

  If Ax was lucid, he’d understand, too. I knew he would. Ax was a trained warrior-cadet. He’d know that sometimes one member of a team had to be sacrificed to save the rest.

  I turned to Ax and rested my palm against his forehead. “Can you hear me, Ax?” I asked.

  I felt him move the tiniest bit under my hand. Had he heard me? Was he trying to answer? I couldn’t be sure.

  “Sorry, Ax,” I whispered. “I’d stay with you if I could.”

  I felt hot tears sting my eyes and I blinked them away.

  “You understand, don’t you?” I continued. “I have to try and save all of us. Not just you.”

  I slowly slid my hand away from his forehead. Then I turned and rushed out of the stall without another word.

  I grabbed my bike from its spot propped beside the barn door. I hopped on and pedaled hard. I wasn’t going far. Good, old-fashioned, normal bike would be easiest.

  I pedaled away from Ax and Tobias and Erek. Away from my parents. Away from Jake, Marco, and Rachel.

  I was all alone.

  I slammed my feet down on the pedals. Trying to burn off some of the fear building inside me.

  Trying to block out all the “what ifs.”

  What if I didn’t get back before Ax reached his crisis?