You know he’s right. You have to take the moment. You’re safe. You may not have killed Visser Three, but you’re back in your own time. Alive.
Jake puts his hand on your shoulder. “Don’t worry. There will still be more battles to fight.”
You grin. “But first,” you say, “there’s pizza.”
The poison-arrow frogs are a good cover. With your powerful hind legs, you leap through the rain forest to the site of the Blade ship. You lurk underneath a bush, waiting for Tobias’s signal.
<They’ve started fighting,> Tobias says. <Where are you? I can’t see you.>
<To the right of the Blade ship,> you say.
<Underneath that bush with the pointy leaves,> Cassie adds.
<I still can’t see you. And I can’t find Visser Three. He could be in a new morph,> Tobias says.
<Watch,> you say. You hop out a few feet into the clearing.
<Okay, got you,> Tobias says. <You’d better circle to the other side. There’s Hork-Bajir in your vicinity.>
You hop back. Together with the others, you make your way around the ship. Around you, you can hear the Hork-Bajir crashing through the rain forest. Every so often, you hear the sizzle of Dracon beams.
It begins to rain. You’re thirsty, and your frog brain clamors for water. You hop forward and stick out your tongue. The water feels cool. You swallow gratefully.
<The rain feels good,> you say.
<What rain?> Tobias asks.
A brownish-greenish creature suddenly detaches itself from a tree. It appears to have no bones. But at the end of its five arms are sprinklerlike holes. They are spraying you with water.
<It is a B’heeon!> Ax cries. <Look out for it’s —>
A three-foot-wide, sticky pink tongue suddenly shoots out of the creature’s mouth. It laps you up like cream. You thrash about, but you can’t escape as the tongue shoots you backward into the waiting mouth.
<Frog’s legs. Delicious,> Visser Three says.
And SLURP — you’re finished.
Oops. Try again. Go back to the end of chapter 22.
The jaguar owns the rain forest. You realize this as you take control of the morph. You feel the power of your coiled muscles, ready to spring. Your gaze can pick out details in the darkest shadow. You spy the tiniest beetle and the sloth hanging above you and the parrot in the tree.
They don’t concern you. When you are hungry, you kill to eat. It is the way of the forest. You have power and control and grace and mobility and will.
<I feel pretty supreme,> Marco says. <I mean, I’m a pretty supreme human. But as a jaguar, I’m incredible.>
<The forest is incredible,> Cassie says softly. <It’s layered with life.>
You know what she means. From the dirt underneath your pads to the tiniest branches overhead, the rain forest teems with life.
<How can the Hork-Bajir just slash and burn this place?> Rachel asks. <It’s so incredible.>
<That is why we must stop them,> Ax says. <Wait.>
You pause. Your ears have picked up the same sounds.
<To the right,> Jake says.
<No,> Ax says. <We are surrounded.>
The Hork-Bajir have fanned out in the forest. They have made a pincer movement, and you have fallen into the trap.
Dracon beams explode around you. One of the Hork-Bajir swipes at Cassie, and she snarls and jumps at them. Rachel isn’t far behind.
You spring at the neck of a Hork-Bajir, and it goes down. You swipe at another with your claws, and it howls and falls back. You fight with claws and teeth and all the power of the jaguar, but there are more of them than you.
<Fall back!> Jake cries. <The tribe must be behind us somewhere. They’ll help!>
You leap onto a tree in order to hurl yourself on a Hork-Bajir. You climb up the vines, your paws digging in. But then the vines move. They surround you.
It is Visser Three in Lerdethak morph. He squeezes you. You feel your lungs collapsing. You feel something deep within you burst.
<Jake,> you call weakly.
Jake turns. You look into yellow jaguar eyes that suddenly seem human to you. They are full of sorrow.
And you know it’s too late.
Jake
My name is Jake. Just Jake. No last name. Or at least no last name I can tell you.
I am an Animorph. I guess that makes me one of the most hunted, endangered species on Earth. The Yeerks want me dead. They want my friends dead. So if they knew who I was, and how to find me, I wouldn’t have a chance.
That’s why I won’t tell you my last name. And I won’t tell you what city or state I live in. Because I want to go on living. I want to go on living so I can go on fighting them.
Are you one of those people who looks up at the night sky and wonders whether there is life out there among the stars? Do you wonder about UFO’s? Do you wonder whether aliens will ever come to Earth?
Well, stop wondering. The Yeerks are here.
They’re a species of parasites — just little slugs, really. Little slugs that crawl inside your head and wrap themselves around your brain and make you do whatever they want you to do.
When that happens you stop being a true human being. You become a Controller. That’s what we call a human who is under the control of a Yeerk. When you talk to a Controller, you may be looking at a human face, you may hear a human voice, but what you’re really talking to is a Yeerk.
And they are everywhere. If you think you haven’t seen one, you’re wrong. The policeman in his patrol car, the clerk at the grocery store, your teacher, your pastor, your doctor: Any of them might be a Controller. Your mother, father, sister, or best friend: They could all be Controllers.
I know. My brother Tom is one of them. They have
