She jerked her head.

  I felt the tears start. "I have to ... to ... I have to go to the ladies' room!"

  100

  Mean Rachel

  I he wimp blew past, all tears and snot. I tried to trip her, you know, just for fun, but I missed.

  "T'sup?" I demanded of my father, twisting the chair around backward so I could sit astride it.

  "What's up?" my father said. He looked closely at me. "Did you just change clothes?"

  "Yeah. Leotard. Big thing now."

  "Are you barefoot?"

  "Hey, I see why you're a reporter. You're a regular genius."

  "Rachel, have you joined some kind of a cult?" 102 "Yeah. The Cult of Me!" I laughed. "What, is there NO service in this dump? Where's the waitress? Get over here and wait on me! On ME!" My dad put his hand on my arm. I flashed on the silverware. It'd be funny to see how fast he could yank that hand back after I planted a fork in it!

  "Sweetheart? The waitress is busy with -"

  "Stop waiting on that ugly old woman and get over here!" I yelled. "The strong should be served before the weak!" I pounded my fist on the table to emphasize this fairly obvious point.

  "Rachel! Stop it. Now!" my father rapped.

  Okay, now he was gonna get the butter knife. Only . . . there were people all around. Not now. Later.

  "You're on my list," I said with a contemptuous sneer.

  "I don't know what's gotten into you!"

  "It's what's gotten out" I said and roared with laughter.

  "Sweetie, listen to me, I don't have much time. It's just a connecting flight. You need to tell me what's bothering you."

  "Right now? You."

  He hung his head. "Okay, look, I know I've missed a weekend or two. But I've been really, really busy. You know I love you." 103 "Bet you don't anymore," I said and guffawed again at my wit. Suddenly, to my amazement, I spotted the wimp. She was actually edging back. Not right for the table, more like she was going to circle around behind me and . . . but why?

  I had to think it through. Why? Okay, she would circle around behind me. Then . . . kill me?

  "Listen, Rachel, I am still your daddy, even though I -"

  "Shut up, I'm trying to think!"

  If the wimp kept moving around till she was behind me, well, um . . . my dad would see her!

  That was it! My dad would see her!

  A plan! I had to stop her!

  Oh ... oh ... what? What? I "FOOD FIGHT!" I screamed. I jumped up on my chair and pitched a croissant speedball at the next table.

  No one joined in.

  My dad grabbed my arm and dragged me away. I'd have to kill him for that. But for now, it was working. The wimp was left behind. Ten minutes later my dad was on his plane, and I had left.

  "Nice try, Wonder Wuss," I sneered at my nitwit double. 104 I

  Nice Rachel

  JL was trapped!

  Mean Rachel had cut me off from my father. I had nowhere to turn. I could go to my mom, sure, but we've never really shared our secrets and all. Not that she's not a good mother. She is. We just don't have that whole spill-your-guts thing going on.

  Spill your guts! What a horrible phrase.

  Anyway, I went to see Cassie. But she was on her way to meet up with the others.

  I'd forgotten. There was going to be a mission.

  Tonight!

  105 "Don't worry, Rachel," she said. "I don't think Jake will want you to come along."

  We were in the barn. Cassie was administering medicine to a raccoon with an infected leg.

  "Oh, good," I said with relief. "Because it sounds dangerous. You know?"

  "Yeah, I know."

  Tobias was the next to arrive.

  "Hi, um, Tobias," I said.

 

  Nothing else. Just "hi." I was getting the feeling I wasn't all that welcome among my friends. Not even Cassie or Tobias liked me.

  "Are you guys mad at me?" I asked.

  "Mad? No, of course not. It's just . . . you know. You're different."

  "But I'm better," I said. "I mean, I'm, like, nice. I'm not all crazy."

  Tobias said.
  "You like her better?" I asked in total amazement.

  "Her? Oh, you mean Evil Rachel?" Cassie laughed. "No. She's insane and dangerous. I just want old Rachel back. No offense."

  "But, you can't expect me to ever want her back inside me, can you?" I asked.

  106 No answer, because right then Jake came in with Marco, and Ax in his human morph.

  They looked wary.

  "What do we have here?" Marco asked Cassie.

  "Wimp Rachel," she said. Then winced. "Sorry."

  "Oh fine, if you all like her so much, I guess I'll just go home!" I pouted. "Only . . . it's getting dark out. Can someone walk me home?" Jake rubbed his head like his hair was annoying him. "Rachel, look, we need you."

  Tobias wondered.

  "And, Mean Rachel, I assume you're here in some morph spying on us, so you can hear this, too," he said. "Look, we have this convoy thing. Three trucks. Three directions. If we eliminate both Rachels that leaves us with five people for three trucks. Meaning that someone is on their own. I don't like that. Everyone needs backup."

  Ax said. He had morphed back to Andalite. I had looked away.

  "Even you need someone to give you some cover, Ax," Jake said. "I'm sorry, but this has 'trap' written all over it. If the Yeerks are being this careful, it's because they're worried. Which means they could be waiting for us. We need six people, minimum."

  107 Marco backed him up by holding up six fingers. "The question is, who is number six? The psycho killer or Baby Spice, here."

  "I can't go!" I cried in horror.

  "Yes, you can," Cassie said firmly.

  "I would have to morph!"

  Ax pointed out.

  "No."

  a new voice said.

  It was Mean Rachel, of course. Jake had been right: She was hiding, in morph. Something hideous was growing inside one of the empty stalls. It looked like someone had taken a Barbie doll and a Beast Wars Transformer and melted them together in the microwave.

  Jake instantly began to morph to tiger. Ax moved toward her, tail ready. Marco, too, began to change.

  By the time Mean Rachel was fully human, she was facing a tiger, a gorilla, and a very alert Andalite.

  Only Cassie stayed human.

  Mean Rachel looked around and burst out in a loud guffaw. "Got you all scared, haven't I? Come on, fight fair, at least. I'll take on any one of you. I morph to grizzly and we go at it."

  108 Ax said confidently.

  Mean Rachel seemed to consider that for a moment. Then she got a crafty look on her face. "You know what the wimp tried to do today?"

  Tobias said.

  That startled Mean Rachel. "What?"

  "We watched you both," Cassie said. "I was close by at the airport. The fly you waved off, Nice Rachel. Tobias watched you on the way there and back."

  Mean Rachel's lips were white with growing rage. "You all think you're smart? You think you can handle ME?"

  Jake moved with liquid feline grace over to stand in front of her.

  "I'm not David!" Mean Rachel spat.

  Marco answered,

  "I can fight! She can't!" Mean Rachel yelled, sticking a quivering finger in my face. "She's useless!"

  Tobias said.

  "I blowupYeerks!"

  Jake said.

  "I am going on this mission!" Mean Rachel screamed. "You can't stop me!" She lunged at Jake. She attacked him with bare hands. Jake ignored her assault. He waited, while she punched and clawed and pounded on his head and shoulders. Occasionally he would deign to block a blow with one of his lightning-quick paws.

  At last Mean Rachel sat down, spent. Burned out.

  Jake said.

  "I am go ing," she said weakly.

  Jake turned his orange and black face to me.

  "Noway!"

 

  "Why do I have to go?" I wailed.

 

  110 "My duty?" I thought about the word. Duty? What was duty? What did that mean to me? Nothing!

  Only ... it did mean something. To my surprise, it did. It was kind of weird. But down inside me, untouched by the split, I felt the word resonate. Mean Rachel got the courage. I got the sense of duty. And now that I had touched that part of me, it seemed powerful. Irresistible.

  "Okay, now that was just, like, totally bad planning," I muttered under my breath.

  111

  f she goes, I go," Mean Rachel yelled.

  <0kay,> Jake relented.

  Mean Rachel looked happy. Until Ax slapped her on the side of her head with the flat of his tail.

  Then she just looked unconscious.

  "We can't restrain her," Cassie said, looking down at my double. "She has all our powers. We can't exactly tie her up."

  Jake agreed.

  Marco said.
  ill

  112 Mean Rachel behind. This should be fun. If by "fun" you mean terrifying and insane.>

  Cassie looked thoughtfully at me and smiled. "I told Jake I thought your sense of duty was part of this half of you."

  "And I thought you were my friend."

  Marco and Jake were demorphing. I forced myself not to look away. It was hideous, horrifying, but I tried not to look away.

  I wasn't brave. I wasn't. But Cassie, as usual, was right. Jake had touched something still alive and strong inside me: duty. Stupid word! Stupid idea!

  No, not a stupid idea. But definitely a stupid word. I mean, it sounds like "doody." I mean, puh-leeze. I had to go and get killed because of something that sounds like you're talking about what dogs do on the lawn?

  "Okay, here's the plan," Jake said. "Ax with Cassie. Marco and Tobias. Me and Rachel."

  Of course. Jake didn't trust me, duh. He wanted me with him so he could watch me.

  "We assemble in the air over BRI. The Chee have been alerted to take our place at our homes."

  Marco groaned. "I hate it when we do that. The Chee who plays me always cleans my room. I can never find anything!"

  "We stay on alert till we see the trucks move

  113 out. One member of each team demorphs each half hour. That way we all stay fresh and don't have time limit problems. Questions?" Marco held up his hand. "If I split into two halves can I stay home?" Everyone laughed. That nervous laugh we all have when we know Marco's just trying to ease the tension.

  It would take more than that to ease my tension. I felt like I must be as stiff as an ironing board. I knew what was coming.

  "Okay, let's morph," Jake said.

  He winked at me. It was supposed to make me feel confident. It didn't. I closed my eyes tight. Owl. That was the right morph for flying at night. Everyone knew it. Owl. They weren't too scary. Not too scary. Not too scary.

  I squinched my eyes as closed as I could. And I let it start. I saw nothing. And, of course, there was no pain. I mean, if you could, like, really fee/morph-ing it would be beyond any pain. It would be like burning alive while being put through a garbage disposal or something. So I didn't feel it, not in that way. But I felt parts of it. Faraway, like when you go to the dentist and they give you Novocain and it doesn't exactly hurt, only you know it should, because, like, 115 they're drilling into your teeth, so it kind of does hurt?

  That's what morphing is like.

  And you can hear it, too. You can hear your bones crunching and grinding as they shrink and twist and hollow out. You can hear your skull as it changes shape and you think, Oh! Oh! My brain is being squished!

  And you feel yourself totter, off balance, as your body changes shapes and your feet become hard, scrabbly talons, and when you wave your arms around to keep from falling you feel the extra resistance because now you have, like, feathers?

  But through it all, I kept my eyes shut.

  Cassie said kindly.

  I opened my eyes.

  I yelped in surprise. Owl vision, of course. Too, too much. I closed my eyes. Then, slowly, peeked again.

  Tobias asked me.

  I wailed.

  Jake said.

  Duty. Stupid, stupid word.

  114

  Nice Rachel

  J.t wasn't that flying isn't cool. It is cool. I mean, parts of it. Like being able to see everything from up in the air. That was kind of interesting.

  But here's the thing about flying? You're up in the air!

  There is nothing holding you up but air. Nothing. You're a hundred feet up, or whatever, and in your head you're still a human, still looking at the world like a human, still thinking "Oh. My. GAWD! I'm up in the air!" I mean, if you lean out of the window on the third floor of a building it scares you, right? Even though you know most of your body is still inside 116 the building. Well, when you're flying, it's not just three stories up and there is no building and if you start falling you're going to have a lot of time to scream and think about it before you hit the ground and smash every bone in your body.

  Cassie asked me.

  I said.

  We flew through the night. The six of us. The Animorphs. We'd done it... I'd done it a hundred times, probably. I remembered all those times. I remembered flying to some mission or other and being filled with anticipation.

  I used to look forward to it. The fighting. The missions. And yet, when I thought back on it now, it wasn't all Mean Rachel. I was there, too. I'd been scared. It wasn't that I wasn't scared. It was just that Mean Rachel had gotten us past it. She'd made us brave, with a mixture of courage and recklessness and desperation and insecurity. And there had been insanity, too. Something down deep inside that was dark and hard and cruel.

  I wondered about the others, my friends. If they had been split like this, what would they have become? Did Jake have a Mean Jake inside him?

  Oh, yes. Definitely. And Ax. Neither of them might be as wild or out of control, but they had that same core of darkness.

  117 Cassie? No. Or at least a split-screen Cassie would be this huge portion of nice and this tiny bit of rotten.

  As for Tobias? He flew, still his own hawk self, a little above, and a little apart from all of us.

  If you split Tobias into halves you'd have what you already had: a hawk, and a boy.

  It was okay to think about all that. It took my mind off what was coming. Which was?

  Oh, yeah. Following some trucks.

  Well, maybe that wouldn't be so bad. I mean, I was already morphed. I was already flying. All we'd have to do is fly above the trucks.

  Jake said. <0kay, separate. We don't want to look like an owl conventions

  For a while after that we just floated in the air. Me and Jake stayed close together, mostly. He didn't ask me how I was doing. Probably he didn't want to know.

  Then . . .

  Marco reported.

  <0kay, everyone get set,> Jake ordered.
  118 wing. We have truck number three. As soon as our truck clears the building we intercept and try to land.>

  I asked shrilly.

  <0n the truck.>

 

 

 

 

 

  The trucks began to move, big, lurching boxes below us and a couple of hundred feet ahead. Jake slanted down in an intercept dive. I hesitated.

  Duty.

  Doody.

  I let the air spill from my wings and dove after him. 119

  Down, down, down. Faster, faster, faster. And all in the most eerie silence. Owl wings make not a whisper.

  The truck, blazingly bright to my owl eyes, grew closer fast. We were going to crash into it!

  No, we were going to shoot past it and hit the ground!

  No, we were going to hit short and slide under the huge wheels!

  I cried.

  Jake grated.
  120 wing. Don't think. Get out of yourself, pretend you're somewhere else.>

 

 

 

 

  I tried. I honestly did, but Jake was INSANE!

  What did he mean let the owl do the flying? We were ten seconds from impact. Nine. Eight.

  And then, to my amazement, the owl took over. It was so weird! It was like one second I was in the cockpit of a plane and I had no idea how to fly it, and then, suddenly, the pilot came in and took over. I focused on those stupid rivets. I focused and the owl focused and we got closer and closer and closer and . . .

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9