Young Writers Society

I woke to the sound of someone banging on my door. My eyes shot open and I lay rigidly beneath my covers. The person rattled the doorknob and continued banging. I jumped out of bed, glancing around my room for some sort of weapon. Unless I could somehow subdue whoever was out there with a few stray pieces of clothing and a dull pencil, there was nothing. I heard whoever was out there growl softly. My eyes flicked to the window.

Okay. Climb down the tree outside my window, then make a break for it. Unless they're waiting outside too...

"Riley, for the love of Pete! Open the door!" Janey's voice shouted through the woodwork. I let out the breath I had been holding, then unlocked my door and poked my head out.

"Who's Pete? Does Cameron know you're cheating on him?" I cocked an eyebrow and Janey scowled at me.

"I've been out there for ten whole minutes. Since when do you sleep with your door locked?"

Since I nearly got killed. Twice.

"Maybe I just don't want you barging into my room every morning." I strolled over to my dresser and began digging through them. I heard Janey sigh and I imagined her rolling her eyes at me.

"Well, Mom's in bed with a headache, so I'll be driving you."

"No, you won't be." I hung my clothes over my shoulder and pushed passed Janey and into the hall. "I'm walking over with a friend this time."

"Emma?"

"No, she said she was driving over with Gwen or something. You haven't met this friend." I shrug, closing the bathroom door behind me. I zipped through my morning routine, and paused to give my rabbit a quick pat before hoisting my backpack over my shoulder. I sat near the window, opening my journal on my lap and beginning to write, pausing every so often to glance out the window. Cole came strolling down my walkway a couple minutes later. I waved at him. Janey glanced over from where she was sitting and caught a glipse of Cole out the window. She raised her eyebrows at me. I scowled.

"He's just a friend." Janey smirked.

"Uh-huh."

I rolled my eyes. "I'm leaving. I'll be walking back again, so you don't have to pick me up." Janey's smirk widened into a smile.

I sighed a little, feeling my face heat up a little. "He's just a friend, alright?!" I opened the door, and hopped down the steps of my porch. Cole cocked an eyebrow.

"Your face is red." He pointed out. I hit him lightly on the arm with my journal, a small smile tugging at my lips.

"Don't flatter yourself." I strolled back over to my porch, where I could just barely see two blue eyes glinting in the shadows underneath. I knelt down and set my backpack down beside me, pausing to glance up. No one could see me from the window. I unzipped a side pocket on my bag. Kitten Neon darted from under the porch and jumped in, wriggling down to the bottom and looking up at me. I tousled his fur good naturedly and Neon batted my hand away. Chuckling a bit, I zipped the pocket closed and stood again, slinging the bag back onto my back and strolling down to the sidewalk where Cole was waiting.

"So you're really gonna haul the squirt around like that?"

I shrugged. "Why not. I mean, he's small enough to fit in your hand. And his kitten for is even smaller."

A mewl of protest erupted from the pocket. I laughed.

"Oh don't you even start. If I'm gonna be dragging your fuzzy little tail around everywhere, I'm at least going to get a good laugh out of it."

Cole and I walked the rest of the way to school together, talking and joking back and forth. Cole occasionally "accidentally" bumped into my bag until I pushed him off. By the time we reached Silver Creek High, we were racing each other down the sidewalk. Cole burst through the doors first, then waited as I caught up, grinning and breathless.

"Told you I'd get here first." He smirked "Even with you jumping on my back at the beginning."

"Hey. That was once. Didn't mean you had to cheat like there was no tomorrow." I panted, still smiling. I straightened, stretching my stiff muscles. "Anyways, we should probably get to rehearsal. The other guys will be there already by now."

...

The rest of the day passed like any normal day would, but I still felt like something was off. Like there was someone watching me. Which, face it, there probably was. I had to resist the urge to jump when someone bumped into me in the hall. And as if that wasn't enough, Emma was acting strange too. More on guard than usual.

Around the end of first period, I spotted her in the hall. I called her and she startled a little.

"Oh...hey there." She mumbled when she saw me.

"Hi! Sorry about that, I didn't mean to startle you." I fell into step beside her. "You doing alright? No doubt we'll all have to play a bit of catch up after disappearing like that."

Like I have room to talk...I've been gone all week.

Emma shifted a little as she walked, avoiding my eyes. "Yeah, I'll be fine. I--I think I may have left my book in my locker. Don't wait for me, okay? I'll see you in class."

She quickly turned away, and scurried down the hall. I stood there, pressing my eyebrows down as I watched her.

She's not fine. Not fine at all.

The bell at the top of the door jingles as Riley and I push our way into the music store. Guitars of all shapes and colors line the walls, rows of record bins cut a line through the middle of the store, and pianos and drum sets are set up in the various dusty corners or anywhere there is space for them, really. Old, eclectic, family run.

"So, how'd you find this place?" Riley asks, looking around.

"Stumbled across it a couple days after I got into town. The strings on my guitar were pretty much shot when I joined Stint with Fiction, so I had to get some new ones."

Riley lights up when she sees a sleek black piano sitting by the front windows. “Oh, cool! They have pianos.”

“Do you play?” I ask.

“Psh… Do I play.” She gives me a mischievous side glance, then hurries over to the piano and sits down on the bench. “Any requests?”

“Stairway to Heaven.”

“Ugghh…” Riley’s head falls back. “Anything but that.”

“Fine, what do you want to play?”

She thinks for a moment, biting her lip. Then she places her hands on the keys and begins flawlessly playing a melody, the chords overlapping each other so smoothly that I find myself being thoroughly impressed. I didn’t even know she played. “What song is that?” I ask.

“This Is Gospel.” She looks over her shoulder at me and notices my lost expression. “Panic at the Disco?”

I just shrug and shake my head at her. “Panic at the Disco?”

“Seriously? You not knowing who Panic at the Disco is, is not okay.” Riley turns away and pays closer attention to the notes she’s playing, progressing into a more complicated part of the song, which successfully blows me away. Somehow, she seems to have the ability to do that whether she's playing music or not. “So, what do you think?”

I cross my arms over my chest. “Not bad…” I say, remembering that she said that to me when I auditioned for Stint with Fiction.

She doesn’t say anything, so I sit down next to her on the bench and begin hitting random keys.

“Hey!” she says playfully. “You’re messing me up.”

"I thought I was helping. People play piano duets all the time."

"Only when they both know the song... Or when they both know how to play the piano,” she says.

"And how do you know I don't know how to play the piano?”

"Well, do you play?"

"Psh… Do I play." I flash her a smile.

"Alright, then it's your turn to impress me." Riley gets up and stands behind the bench as I scoot into the middle.

"You might want to step back. I don't want you to get caught in the shockwave of my talent."

"Alright, but you're talking yourself up pretty big. Are you sure you'll be able to live up to the hype?" she teases.

"I think the better question is, can the hype live up to me." I crack my knuckles. "Okay, I need a second to prepare. This piece is so difficult, that if I try to play it without stretching first, it won’t be possible to perform properly." I shake out my arms, stretch my wrists forwards and backwards.

Then I place a single finger on a single key… and play Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.

Riley laughs. “Wow... You are so full of it.”

"What can I say? You're affecting my ego with your mad skills."

"Well, fine then.” She points at the wall. “Play one of those guitars if it'll make yourself feel better."

"I could... But I think it would be better if you played one."

“I don’t know how to play the guitar. If I could, I wouldn't have needed a new guitar player for Stint with Fiction."

I smile. "Exactly."

She scoffs and slaps me lightly on the arm. “Thanks."

“Well, I played piano for you.” I walk over to one of the acoustic guitars on the wall, pull it carefully off, and walk back over to Riley. I hold it out to her. “So it’s your turn to play guitar for me.”

Riley gives me a look, then sighs and takes the guitar. “Fine.” She sits back down on the bench. “I think I’ve seen Drew make a chord that’s something like…” Her hand makes the shape of a chord that, to my knowledge, doesn't exist. Then she strums down on the strings in a twangy, cringeworthy fashion.

I grit my teeth. She look up and she sighs in exasperation when she sees me. “Hey, I told you.”

“I know. I know. Here, you’re close.” I sit down next to her, then take her hand and slide it up the neck of the guitar. “So, if you put this finger here… and this one here…” I carefully reposition a couple of her fingers a fret over so her hand has formed a D chord. “Try now.” She brushes the pick over the strings and the notes of the chord ring out flawlessly. “See? Who says you can’t play the guitar? And if you memorize that chord along with the G and C chords, you’ll be able to play about three hundred songs.”

Riley looks up at me. “Seriously?”

“No joke. If guitar players are known for anything, it’s not their originality.”

“Well, I guess I don’t need you in the band anymore, then,” she jokes.

“Ha ha, very funny.”

She looks back down at the guitar. “So, what is the G chord?”

“For that one…” I scoot a little closer. Her hair brushes against my cheek. I start repositioning her hand. “This finger goes here.”

“Yep.”

“Then this one below it…”

“Mm Hmm…” I feel her warm breath against my neck. It smells like strawberries.

“And… and then…” What chord was I showing her again?

I’m startled out of my thoughts when the store owner comes out of the back. "Cole! I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Oh hey, Mr. Gonzalez.” I stand up quickly. “We were just looking around.”

“It's great to see you back so soon. Who is this?” he asks, gesturing to Riley.

“Oh... This is Riley. Riley, Mr. Gonzalez."

She gives him a small wave as she stands up and puts the guitar back on the hook. "Hey."

"Well, let me know if you need anything,” he says. “You and your girlfriend are welcome to play any of the instruments on the floor.”

"Oh, it's not like that. She's just a friend," I correct him.

His gaze lingers on me for a moment. His eyes shift to Riley, then back to me. ”If you say so." He gives me a knowing look, then turns around and goes back into the back room.

I turn around to look at Riley, who is closely examining the guitars, but I can tell it’s just so she can pretend she didn’t hear what the shop owner said. If you don’t hear the inappropriate thing someone says to you, is it still awkward?

“What do you say… we get out of here? There’s a cafè down the block that sells some mean coffee.”

+ + +

The icy January wind nips the tip of my nose. A thin layer of snow has fallen, dusting the sidewalk in white.

“Mr. Gonzalez seemed to be really fond of you,” Riley says, looking down at the white coffee cup she holds in her hands. “I thought you only moved here a couple of weeks ago?”

“I did. But I’ve been in there several times and we got to talking one day… Turns out he’s from Boston, too." I shrug. "I don’t know, he took a liking to me, I guess.”

We’re silent for a moment, then she asks, ”So, what was Boston like?"

"Cold." I laugh. "And loud. The streets are always busy. Everyone always had somewhere to be."

Riley looks up at me, her cheeks rosy from the cold. "Kind of like New York?”

“Kinda… Bands played down town all the time. And there was this place called Taylor’s that sold the best deep dish pizza you will ever eat in your entire life. And if you went to the top of the John Hancock tower, the tallest building in town, you could see the entire city. The whole skyline. My friends and I used to go up there and talk about anything and everything for hours.”

“You really loved it there, huh?”

I shrug. “It was pretty great. Have you ever been?”

“Nope. Never.”

“Oh, man. You have to go someday. And when you do, make sure to visit the ocean, and Fenway Park.”

"Fenway Park? What's that?" Riley asks.

I look over at her in disbelief. "Fenway Park. The home of the Boston Red Sox. It's the oldest ballpark in the MLB.” I laugh. "You know, my friends and I snuck in there in the middle of the night one time.”

Riley gives me a look of amusement. "You snuck into the oldest ballpark of the MLB?"

"Haha, yeah. We played baseball 'til two, three o'clock in the morning... until the security guards caught us. Totally worth it, though."

"You get into a lot of trouble... don't you?" she asks hesitantly.

"What's the worst that could happen? It's not like we were spraying graffiti on the walls. My buddy Jonas, his dream is to play major league ball. He's pretty good, too. It was his birthday, so we thought it would be fun to sneak in there. We joked that it would make for a funny story when he joined the team one day.”

“I’m sorry you had to move away from them. I can tell you really cared about them, " she says sympathetically.

I shrug. "We did everything together. They were my brothers." We're silent for a moment. "You know, I actually went to the 2049 World Series at Fenway."

“Really?"

"Yeah, my dad took me as a kid. Got front row seats. He pulled a few strings and actually got me a signed baseball by my favorite Red Sox player. It was addressed to me personally and everything. It's one of the few things I brought with me when I moved, actually. It was the last thing my dad ever did for me..." I trail off. Anytime I talk about my dad, even if the memory is a good one, it brings me right back to the day he left us, to how everything ended with him.

I toss my coffee cup into a trashcan as we pass by. “Anyway, that’s enough about me.” I turn to look at her. “So, tell me. What animal can you turn into?” I ask, changing the subject.

Riley sighs. “Oh gosh…” She steels a sideways glance at me and gives me a bashful smile. “A Lynx.”

“Really? I imagined something more like… a raccoon.”

“Why a raccoon?” she asks.

“Well, they’re just so annoying.”

Riley scoffs and slaps me lightly on the arm. “Gee, thanks... So, what animal are you, then?”

I shove my hands into my pockets and give her a lopsided grin. “Guess.”

“Hmm… An otter?”

“Nope.”

“A horse?”


“Getting colder.”

“A chipmunk?”

“A chipmunk? Really?” I say.

“I don’t know! Give me a hint.”

“Okay… It’s not an otter, a horse, or a chipmunk.”

Riley groans. “You’re impossible.”

“Nope, not that either,” I say with a laugh.

She glares at me. “You’re not going to tell me, are you?”

“And ruin the fun? Who do you think I am?”

“I don’t know. I’m still trying to figure you out, Ashton Cole. Just from the feild trip I thought I knew exactly what kind of person you were... But now I'm not so sure.”

“Well, I guess I’m full of surprises.”

She tilts her head and gives me a curious look. “Yeah. I guess so.”

I entered the school lost in thought. I looked around the halls, watching people talking and laughing, and wished my life was more like theirs.

Why did this happen to me? I wondered as I walked quickly, hoping no one would stop me.

"Hey, Dan." said a voice, and I turned to see Darrin walking up to me.

"What happened to you these past few days?" he asked with a grin.

"Flu. It's been going around." I replied, using the excuse that I and the others had agreed on.

Noticing that Darrin's left forearm was bandaged up, I asked, "What happened to you?"

"Scratched it when I fell off my skateboard at the park. Stings a bit, but no biggie." and he smiled at me.

Somehow, he threw me off. Something abut the way he talked about his wound seemed...rehearsed. Like an actor, not like what an actual person would say. Not to mention that Darrin went a bit out of his way to talk to and be friends with a nerd, which was uncommon for someone with Darrin's sports skills and characteristics. But I dismissed the thought.

"I gotta go." I muttered as I checked my watch. "It's nearly time for English."

"Okay." said Darrin, furrowing his brow. "Catch you later."

"Sure." I replied, and walked off.

A minute later, I heard someone say, "Stop right there, Dan."

I gulped as I looked up to see Terence Matthews walking towards me. He had a neck brace on, and a couple of his lackeys were right behind him.

He stopped in front of me and grinned. "I think I owe you something. Do you recall it?"

The hundreds of dollars that Terence had pilfered from me over the years
came to mind, but I knew that that wasn't what he had in mind.

"Nothing?" I tried hopefully.

Terence shook his head. "Last week, you rudely bumped into me. So, I decided to pay you back in turn. But before I could, Layla stopped me. But I don't see any lady knights coming to rescue your arse this time. Now I'm going to pay you back, and the fact that a girl had to save you makes me even more eager." And he cracked his knuckles.

Usually, I would meekly submit, but his time I didn't. The eagle in me would not let the king of the skies be humiliated.

"I don't see you doing any better, Terence. You were beaten up a scrawny kid half your size." I snapped, my anger rising.

Terence's friends chuckled at that, and he gave them an angry glance before saying defensively, "He had a metal box!"

"Oh, you poor thing." I muttered with mock sympathy. "I mean, what can a jock who took boxing lessons for three years do against a scrawny kid with a metal box? I mean, the seven of you jocks must've been at your wits' end on how to deal with him."

A crowd had started to gather to see the confrontation, and several of them laughed at what I had said.

Terence's face turned red with anger and he yelled, "Shut up, runt!"

"Careful, Terence." I said coldly. "I'm bigger than Neon, and there are only three of you. You don't want to go back to the hospital, do you?"

"I'll show you!" he growled and shoved me against a wall, raising his fist.

But before he could strike, my foot snapped upwards to hit his groin, and he groaned with pain before falling to the ground, clutching his groin.

A number of people cheered, and I grinned evilly at Terence, feeling a sense of pride that I had finally got the upper hand when dealing with him.

I walked around him and stood near his head. "Wanted to pay me back, did you?" I said with a cruel grin.

Then my smile disappeared as I growled, "Here's your payback!" and kicked him in the gut, causing him to give another groan.

Finally satisfied that I had done enough, I looked up. Some of the crowd looked shocked, but most of them were cheering, or jeering at Terence. Strangely, this included Terence's two lackeys.

I even saw some animorphers in the crowd. I caught sight of Riley at the far corner of the crowd, her face betraying her shock at seeing what I had done. Beside her, Neon was nodding at me, a huge grin on his face.

What's he doing in school out of morph? I wondered, but before I could pursue the thought further, a sharp voice cut through the air.

"Daniel Torson!" exclaimed Ms. Tangeman. The crowd parted to allow her to pass. She marched until she stood right in front of me, scowling.

"I did not expect a student of your caliber to behave so...atrociously! You will accompany me to the Principal's office immediately." she said heatedly, and then glared at the crowd around me. "Don't you all have classes to get to?" she snapped, and everyone quickly started moving.

Then she narrowed her eyes at me before walking off, glancing back now and then to make sure that I was following her.

Aw crap. I thought to myself. This is bad.

The alarm clock on my night stand, now dented by a certain drunk monkey, goes off on a tangent of obnoxious beeps like it does every morning. The daily battle of the alarm v.s. my self-control to not throw it into a wall, starts all over again.

Turned away from it, I reach my arm behind me and slap my hand over the snooze button a couple times until it turns off. After a few seconds of peace, it goes off again. Probably some loose screws from the damage.

Groaning in agitation, I roll over to the other side and hit it again, which sends the clock falling off the nightstand onto the floor instead, still beeping.

This is the day the battle with the alarm clock shall end.

I throw the covers aside, sit up, grab the damn clock off the ground, and hurl it against the wall. It breaks into a dozen pieces, followed by the sweet sound of silence.

Waking me up at 6:30AM after the weekend I just had, it had it coming. Seriously.

~ ~ ~

The school activity sign up board looms over me as stand in front of it, looking at all the various papers pinned to the cork and trying to find one that sounds somewhat tolerable. Kids pass by behind me, walking down one of the long hallways of Silver Creek High, going to and from classes. After-school activities really aren’t my thing, but Jinx had suggested that we sign up for more things to keep us busy and help us blend in as normal teens. Somehow, the solution to being turned into a super soldier science experiment, then targeted by Japanese assassins, doesn't seem like it should be joining an after-school activity. It seems ridiculous at best. At worst? It's stupid. But, given we know close to nothing about just about everything... It's the best we can do for now.

I scan the sheets of paper, all different colors and sizes with just about everything you could imagine a school offering in after-school programs.

'Get synchronized with your after-school activities and join the Synchronized Swimming Team!'

'Make a new student's day! Join the Welcoming Committee!'

Bleh...

"Hey, looking at after-school activities?" Riley says, coming up behind me.

"If you can call them that. Could they make them any more lame?"

"Yeah, I've been having trouble finding any, either. I'm already a part of Stint with Fiction. Isn't that enough?"

I shrug. “I’m part of the track team and I’m not off the hook… So I guess not."

We look at the board, silent for a few moments. "That one doesn't look too bad," she says, pointing to a flyer that says, ‘Music Club.'

"Ahem..." I push aside a paper that's hanging in front of half of it to reveal the whole title, ‘History of Classical Music Club.' 'Learn about how classic music began, and how it has changed through the eras. New classical composer featured every week!’

Riley scrunches her nose up. "Well, that's kinda boring."

"Hey, guys!" Charlotte comes up behind us with her arms wrapped around the books she holds. "Have you found anything interesting?"

"Not really," I say, letting the paper flop back over the music flier. "Have you?"

"Actually... I have. I signed up for the cheer team."

I give her a look. "The cheer team? Seriously?"

Charlotte shrugs. "I thought it might be fun. That's all."

"I thought we agreed to sign up for things in pairs," Riley says. "You know, so that no one is ever alone."

"I know," Charlotte says. "And that's why... I signed you two up with me."

Riley and I exchange a glance, then look back at Charlotte and simultaneously say, "You what?”

“What? You act like I enlisted you in the military or something.”

“I would have rather you enlisted me in the military than signed me up for the cheer team,” I say.

“Layla, don’t be silly...” Charlotte says. “It’ll be fun. There’s nothing more ordinary in high school than being a cheerleader. That’s the point, right? Blending in? You know…” She looks around us for a moment, then lowers her voice. “…to keep the Japanese assassins off our tails.”

“I would rather be chased by Japanese assassins than join the cheer team,” I tell her flatly.

“Charlotte, I have zero interest in joining the cheer team,” Riley says sincerely.

Charlotte shrugs. “Well, it’s too late now. Practice is this afternoon.” She turns to me. “You might end up liking it, Layla. Will you just give it a try?”

I shake my head. “No.”

“For me?”

“No!”

“Please?” Charlotte gives me hopeful, innocent look.

I cross my arms over my chest. “You can’t make me go to that practice.”

The look remains.

“No!”

~ ~ ~

“I hate you.”

“No you don’t. Now get out here before we’re late to practice.”

“Gee, that would be just terrible,” I say.

“Laylaaaaa…” she whines.

I look down at the mini-skirt and half-top I wear, along with white tennis shoes and pompoms that cover my feet and hands. “I can’t believe you talked me into this.”

“Will you come out of the stall and let me see?”

I sigh, then undo the latch on the bathroom door and swing it open. Charlotte stands on the other side, also in full uniform. She smiles at me.

“So, what do you think?” I ask hesitantly, picking uncomfortably at the fabric on my skirt.

“You look cute!”

I groan and start to close the door again, but she steps forward and blocks it with her body. “Normally, people would take that as a compliment,” she points out.

“Well, I’m not normal people. In fact, I spend a lot of time trying not to be like normal people. Even avoiding normal people. Like cheerleaders.”

“You’re such a grouch.” Charlotte takes my hand and pulls me into the main locker room area, where Riley lays on her back on one of the metal benches, leaning her head over the edge. “Riley, are you ready to do? Practice starts in five minutes.”

“Wuaaaaaurgh…”

Charlotte sighs. “It’s not the end of the world. It’s just cheer practice. Will you just try it and see if you like it? If you don’t, you don’t have to go back.”

Riley sighs and sits up, swinging her white tennis shoes back onto the ground. “Fineee…”

“Thank you.” Charlotte turns to me expectantly.

I cross my arms over my chest. “I put on the uniform like you asked me to, but I’m not going out there. Ever.”

Charlotte just stares at me with puppy dog eyes.

“No.”

Big blue eyes staring up at me.

“Not going to happen.”

Long eyelashes blinking.

“No!”

~ ~ ~

I did not know what true humiliation felt like until this moment, standing in the middle of a football field in a cheerleader’s uniform, surrounded by other cheerleaders.

I recall having to put on this uniform once before, and hoping I wouldn’t get caught dead wearing it. Little did I know that this was actually going to be the death of me.

“I hate you.”

“Stop being so dramatic,” Charlotte says, handing me my pompom. “Practice is half over and you’ve survived this long, haven’t you?”

I groan and take it from her hand. “Why is this so important to you?”

“No reason,” she says, looking off into the distance. “I thought it would be fun. Normal. We need more normal back in our lives.”

I follow her gaze to see the football players warming up on the other end of the field. They’re doing push ups, and Charlotte is watching Michael.

Ahhh. Of course.

“No reason, huh?” Why don’t you tell that to Michael?”

“If the point of this is to keep an eye on each other, then this makes the most sense. We can keep an eye on Michael and Jinx, and they can keep an eye on us,” she says as if it’s only logical. And I would almost believe her… if her cheeks hadn’t flushed completely red.

My eyes wander over to Jinx, who is doing pushups a few guys over from Michael, the bright sun gleaming off of his dark skin. I tilt my head a little and sigh. Maybe this isn’t so bad.

“Okay, girls! Break time is over!” The head cheerleader, Britt, says, strutting back through the group. Wouldn’t that make her the cheerleader and us the cheerfollowers? Actually, I’m good with cheerleader. No need to make it any more demeaning than it already is.

“Get into formation and I’m going to watch this time to see where our weak points are,” she says, beaming a bright smile, but her gaze lingers on me for a second in an accusing fashion. Then she flips her hair and walks to the front.

Well then. I get into my position in a “V” and look over at Riley, who’s uncomfortably pulling down on her skirt, if you can call it that. If a skort is a cross between a skirt and shorts, then what is a cross between a skirt and underwear?

“Remember! Smile’s everyone!” Britt beams. I don’t smile. “Five, six, seven, eight!”

The formation moves, various cheerleaders crossing through each other to turn the “V” into a “W”.

“Give me a ‘G’! G! Give me an ‘O’. O! What does that spell? Go!”

How do you spell, shoot me now?

The routine finishes and Britt walks right up to me. She gives me a big fake smile. “Layla, I don’t feel like you’re trying very hard. I need you to give me everything you’ve got.”

“I’m already giving you my morality,” I say seriously.

She just laughs, then places her hand on my shoulder. I shrug it off. “I like you, Layla. You’re funny.”

“I wasn’t joking.”

Britt just gives me a little snooty shake of her head. “Anyway, just try a little harder, okay? And remember, sweetie!” She taps her fingers against my cheek a couple times. “Turn that frown, upside down!” She flashes me a big cheery smile.

That’s it.

I give her a mock smile back, then turn and start walking away towards the locker rooms without another word.

Charlotte runs up behind me, grabs my hand, and turns me back around. “Layla, where are you going?”

“I’m done! I can’t put of with that girl!”

“Layla, come on. She’s not that bad. Are you forgetting that we’re trying to blend in so our lives aren’t in danger?”

“If she tells me to turn that frown upside one more time, it’s her life that’s going to be in danger.”

Charlotte sighs. “Look… The real reason I wanted you to join with me was because… I was too afraid to try it on my own,” she admits. “I really need to feel like something in my life is normal, and I’d also really like to keep an eye on Michael. But I wouldn’t have been able to work up the courage to join the squad, if you weren’t here with me…”

I stare at her for a moment, then sigh. “Ugghhh… Fineee. I’ll stick it out.”

“You. Are. The best.” She throws her arms around me in a hug.

“Under one condition,” I add. “You tell the head barbie to stop telling me to smile. It’s not going to happen.”

Charlotte steps away and smiles. “Deal.”

Michael sat with me at lunch the next day. I was hardly accustomed to school yet - none of us were - but spending my free time with the other animorphers kept me calm. If there was only one good thing that this experience has given me, it’s what unity and fellowship feels like. And if I have to join some after school activity to keep that up, so be it.

“I still think basketball would suit me better,” I said between bites of greasy cafeteria pizza.

Michael shook his head. “Now, Jinx, if you were a giraffe, I’d understand. But look at you - you’re a tiger.”

I shrugged him off. “Our animals don’t matter. We’re not going to morph in the middle of a game or anything.”

“Hey, you never know. And being a tiger on a basketball court would help you a lot less than a tiger on a football field would.”

“How?”

“Think about it! Remember how the first symptoms arrived just after the field trip, and only parts of us would morph? What if we could control that, and just the front paws came out? Those talons could be pretty useful for tackling.”

“Like the ref wouldn’t call a penalty when a player on the other team starts gushing blood from his shoulder blades.”

A cliche football player chose that moment to slide in next to Michael and break into our conversation. “What are you guys talking about?”

I winced. “Y’know, football regulations.”

The football player - Chase Redlands was his name - puffed out his chest like Superman and tugged at the collar of his Letterman jacket. I shot Michael a glare that I hoped effectively translated to “and this is why I’m not too thrilled about trying football.”

“You’re the new guy, aren’t you?” Chase asked.

I nodded.

He lost interest in me, and picked up his pizza. “Hey, Mike,” he mumbled, his mouth full. “There’s that chick you like.”

Sure enough, the four animorpher girls were making their way towards our table, their own lunch trays in hand.

Mike laughed. “It’s more than just like.” Charlotte sat on the other side of him, of course, and the rest sat on my side of the table. Chase brightened up and tugged at his collar with more vigor. I noticed him pause in between each bite of pizza to clean his tomato-pasted teeth with his tongue.

Shortly after, Dan, Cole, and Neon arrived. “Look at that, we’re all here,” Cole said, slapping his tray down.

Chase started looking less comfortable. “Who’s all here?”

“Period Six Biology!” Neon cried, jutting his hand into the middle of the table. One by one, each animorpher, laughing, piled their hands on top of his. We released with a cheer. With that, Chase promptly excused himself.

That’s what fellowship feels like.

“The Battle of the Bands is tomorrow,” Riley announced once we had quieted down. “You all better be there.”

“I hope my Potato Club won’t mess up with my schedule,” Neon said, in a totally serious voice.

“Potato Club,” Layla said. “Is that your after school activity? How’d you find a potato club?”

“Finding one would have been impossible. Our generation doesn’t seem to appreciate the Solanum tuberosum as much as it should, I’m afraid. I had to make the club myself.” He popped a French fry into his mouth.

I glanced at Layla, who giggled.

“I saw you with the cheerleaders yesterday,” I told her. “What made you decide to sign up for that?”

She shot a death glare across the table at Charlotte. “It wasn’t my decision.”

I laughed. “Well, I like it. More of us will be able to practice together.”

“My point exactly!” Charlotte said, gesticulating with a piece of pizza crust.

The nurse and security guard rushed down the hall. Dispersing the crowd of astonished students, they lifted Terence Matthews onto a stretcher and carried him off. The boy was groaning in pain, wincing with every jostle as the two adults raced away like cartoon paramedics. All they needed were sirens on their heads to complete the insane picture.

Neon began to sweat as the crowd broke apart. If he was alone, he would be spotted in no time. Not to mention the morph suit wasn’t exactly the most subtle clothing in the world.

But apparently Riley was thinking faster than him, because she grabbed him by the collar and shoved him into the nearby boy’s bathroom. “Stay out of sight,” she hissed through the metal door. “I’ll come get you when the next period ends.”

And that was how Neon came to be sitting alone in a bathroom stall as the bell rang for the next class. His fingers drummed against the porcelain as he became increasingly agitated. Did Riley really expect him to just wait here for her? She’d met him, right? Neon Kingsley waited for no one.

He hunched over, hollowing himself out with a sigh. “She just needs some space,” he said. “I thought I could help by staying with her, but now I’m worried that she doesn’t need me…”

With a bitter chuckle, he shook his head. “No. Who am I kidding? She never needed me. Maybe she never will.” He let the breath trail out of him, his normally puffed chest deflating until Neon Kingsley was just a pathetic, scrawny little boy sitting on a toilet lid. “I’m useless.” The words seemed to echo in his head, reverberating and harmonizing with deeper memories, filling his skull.

Terror seized his body, and he ripped himself out of his thoughts. “No,” he muttered. “I’m not useless. I’m not useless. I’m me. I’m freaking Neon!”

With that, he let out an uncharacteristically loud roar, standing up and barging out of the bathroom stall. Aggressively lathering his hands under the faucet, he looked up and growled at his reflection. There was still work to be done today, and he wouldn’t rest until he’d completed his goal.

“I won’t just sit around anymore,” he declared, slamming the paper towel over his hands. “Today, the world’s going to know the wrath of me! Neon Kingsley!” He made a triumphant pose, cackling madly as his evil aura swept around him menacingly.

He was still holding that pose when the toilet flushed in the other stall, and a senior walked out. Giving Neon a weird look, he turned on the faucet and began to wash his hands nonchalantly.

Neon dropped the pose and slunk out of the bathroom, embarrassment prickling down his spine. Still, his resolve was firm. Today, he would save a comrade from falling to the same deadly fate as he. But Neon alone could not save Daniel Torson. It was time to call upon an old persona...one that just so happened to be stored inside his locker.

Trying not to squeal with excitement, Neon dashed down the hall towards his old locker.

---------------------

Dan sat in the chair like a prisoner, his jaw locked and fists clenched. Mrs. Tangeman was standing over him, giving the principal a vivid report of what he’d done, complete with hand motions. All of it looked like she was flapping her arms and squawking, flipping out like a bird. Meanwhile, Principal Jacoby was sighing into her coffee, reconsidering her life choices as a principal.

Mrs. Tangeman’s accusations pierced through the air, destroying the ears of all within a ten-meter radius. The words “school grounds” and “violence” were screamed to their breaking point as the pent-up rage of the teacher’s life spilled out in one unsightly rant.

Eventually, she broke off her tirade, her shoulders heaving in silence. Once the ringing in his ears had subsided, Dan glanced up caustically, slowly opening his mouth to speak.

Instantly, the school went pitch-black, darkness filling the office as the generators powered down. “What’s going on here?" Mrs. Tangeman asked.

“I don’t even know anymore,” Jacoby murmured.

Suddenly, smoke hissed into the room, illuminated by the pale light from the windows. Mrs. Tangeman yelped as a voice boomed over the PA. “In the black of night, let screams of terror peel into the sky, so that the stars may turn crimson, and the thousand eyes stare back!”

Dan whipped his head around in bewilderment, but Mrs. Tangeman was staring upwards at the speakers. “That voice….” Her eyes widened, and she trembled. “I know that voice!”

“When the chips are down, he eliminates his foes with one crisp blow! To know him is to know true fear! The god of darkness shall now descend!” The lights flared on, blood-red and sinister. “Tremble beneath the wrath of Lord Nightshade!”

The last words were spoken from behind Dan, and the boy whirled around in his seat. Standing at the back of the principal’s office, was a man clad in a black mantle, holding a microphone up to his mask. The bizarre visor hid his face completely beneath a brown mass covered with glaring crimson eyes. Tossing the microphone aside, he turned to them.

Dan immediately jumped out of his seat, backing against the desk. Mrs. Tangeman was recoiling beside him, horror written across her face. Principal Jacoby looked ready to cry.

“Your fear is justified, mortals,” the man said, his voice rumbling across the room. “Returned from my exile, I have come to deliver dark justice! I stand before you now, the invincible, reborn Lord Nightshade!”

“It can’t be!” Mrs. Tangeman shrieked, pointing a purple-nailed finger at the lord. “You’re not supposed to be here!”

Dan glanced at her in confusion. “You know him?”

The teacher shook her head in despair. “Only heard of him. He’s the infamous prankster that cursed his school with mayhem! The mastermind of the Mascot Massacre! The terror of Bronzewater Junior High!”

“I am all of those things, and more!” Lord Nightshade cackled madly. Swinging his arm around, he pointed at Dan with sharp intent. “But today I vouch for Daniel Alexander Torson! In the name of darkness, release him immediately!”

Principal Jacoby leaned over her desk, trying feebly to maintain some shred of professional air. “I’m afraid that would be impossible, Mr.-”

“Lord!”

“- Mr. Lord Nightshade. Dan Torson has engaged in a fight against another student, leaving him incapacitated both physically and socially.”

“Regardless!” Lord Nightshade flung his arm out. “Daniel Torson was fighting for the sake of justice! Even a demon such as I can attest to this fact!”

“N-no!” Mrs. Tangeman retorted, fury shooting back into her voice. “You’re wrong! Daniel had Terence on the ground, and was kicking him brutally!”

“But did it ever occur to you that Daniel had not started the fight?” Nightshade’s head tilted inquisitively. “He was merely acting self-defensively towards the violent Terence Matthews. Ask any who were gathered there, and they too will say the same!”

Recognition broke upon Dan’s face, though it wasn’t really too hard to guess who was beneath the iconic mask in the first place.

Lord Nightshade’s hand went to his thousand-eyed mask, readjusting it confidently. “That is all I can say. Daniel!” he shouted, thrusting his hand out. “You must continue this fight, without assistance or surrender! In the name of darkness, I entrust to you this mission! Now fear me, mortals, as I vanish into the night! Whoosh!” Lord Nightshade sprinted to the window, his scheme to open it and escape.

His hand slid over a smooth, latchless windowsill. Beneath the mask, Neon Kingsley slowly broke into a sweat.

Dan sighed. “Neon, the windows don’t open here.”

Lord Nightshade stiffened. “Sh...Shocking!!!” he announced, making a break for the door. Unfortunately, Mrs. Tangeman’s hand shot out and grabbed the back of his cape, pulling him back in.

“Neon Kingsley…” she snarled, a demonic blaze igniting in her eyes.

“A-ah…!” Neon gulped, shrinking in her shadow until Lord Nightshade was just a scrawny little kid in a mask.

Principal Jacoby cradled her head in her hands as Mrs. Tangeman dragged Neon away, who was screaming desperately, “Suspend me! Arrest me! Anything! Please, save me!” So ended the dark legend of Lord Nightshade; his legacy was Dan Torson standing in front of the principal in her empty office.

The fierce red lighting just seemed awkward now. “So,” Dan began, “what-”

“A week of detention. Room 224, after school.” Principal Jacoby didn’t look up. “Please, get out now.”

Dan swallowed, nodded, and walked out of the principal’s office in silence. In the distance, shouts could be heard as the rest of the school dealt with the blood-red terror-lights.

Principal Jacoby took one last look at her coffee, then dumped it in the trash can. She sighed. Reaching under her desk, she pulled out a bottle and took a long drink. “Five more months,” she mumbled forlornly.

It was the beginning of the school year with Mr. Daniel's math class. A morning that was sheepishly getting through but barely passing. Michael was in the back, balancing a pencil on his top lip while looking towards the ceiling at a bug that was slowly making it's way across the vast, white plain. Everyone in the class was either a.) dozing and suddenly jolted up or b.) paying full attention towards the board. There were a few cases of c.) which was, bored and not really caring (the group that Michael is in). It was not that he cared for the subject but the timing of school were bouncing off his thoughts inside his head.
He had come back from camp to have a clear mind and a new self. Everyone in the group went and tried out their own separate things. Luckily, the activity to get his mind off of the camp, was football. His blood and soul. As it turned out, Jinx has the same thought. Michael didn't know Jinx nor did he ever want to until now. He was always the quiet one in the back, silently judging everyone. If Michael was honest with himself, he would've found him a bit intimidating. But it was Jinx that came up to him, during one of his breaks in the library, and asked if he was joining the football team. The original answer was going to be "I have no idea" but upon seeing the desperation in Jinx's eye, he had to change his answer to "I am."
It was within the first week that Michael felt out of place and far away from his classmates. It could be for the fact that the camp had changed him. Most of his friends had forgotten about him (which was fine, he supposed, but having the constant popularity to boot him up was also nice).
When the bell was ringing for math class to be over, even when Mr. Daniel was saying "please wait until I pass out your homework" (only a few people stayed behind), Michael trotted over to the library. Charlotte was inside, reading a book by a far side table. I could say hi, he had thought to himself. It was before he could set foot in the library that he felt a big, meaty hand on his shoulder. He blinked, turned around, and came face-to-face with none other than Hank Jigsawman or famously known as Big Ham.

"You're thinking about joining the football team again, Mikey?" Big Ham asked thickly, hand still on Michael's shoulder.

Michael sighed. It was too early for this.

"Yes, Hank. I am," was the airy response. This only made Hank's hand dig into Michael's shoulder.

"You dropped out alread-"

"Yes, that was because I had a school field trip the same day as the last football game. Don't think I'm a little upset about that still. Also, knowing me, I would've come back sooner or later." He paused, smirking. "You know that?"

Hank's frowned deepened. "I hate people like you."

"Everyone hates people like me. I can't control that. Now, if you excuse me," Michael twisted around. Hank's hand dispatched off of his shoulder as he sped towards his locker. All he received was a grunt.



The fall air outside was getting colder and colder while the leaves on the nearby oak trees were turning different colors. Michael took a deep inhale of outside and let it evaporate into a small cloud of vapor when he exhaled. Walking home was a new addition to his life after camp. Also, Charlotte always walked home after school so it was a win-win situation that he couldn't pass up.

"Michael!" Charlotte called, loud and clear. He turned around slowly to see the strawberry blonde running towards him, with books in her arms.

"Hey, Charlie." He smiled while Charlotte caught up with him.

"I told you to stop calling me that."

"And I told you it was cute."

Halfway through the walk, Charlotte asked, "What was with Big Ham?"

Michael sourly frowned. ¨He wanted to know why I was coming back to the football team. Why do you ask?¨

Charlotte shrugged. ¨I saw you being caught with him so I thought´d I´d ask.¨

¨Oh. Well, you don't need to worry about anything¨, Michael said simply. Charlotte only knitted her eyebrows.



They said their farewells (Michael was more dramatic with a strain in his voice and hollering his goodbyes while Charlotteś was more ´you´re scaring the neighbors and I need to get inside´). When he stepped into his house, the smell of his dinner made his stomach turn pleasantly. Michael quickly ran upstairs to his room and dropped off his bookbag. Then hightailing it down towards the kitchen. When he got there, his mother wasn't there but left of a nearby counter was a note. Picking it up, Michael read it aloud.

Dear Michael,

I´m out of town for a while because of work and I don't think I´ll be back before dinner is started. I just wanted to tell you I love you and I'll be home tomorrow morning, before you leave for school.

Love,

Mom

Michael raised an eyebrow before throwing the paper aside. Since when did my mom have a job? It wasn't since he was five, working at the school´s cafeteria (she quit due to the unsanitary workplace she was in; his mother was a clean freak). He walked briskly towards the fridge, opening it to find a Dr. Pepper, but instead found another note but this time on a Post-it note.

Sighing, Michael grabbed it, thinking it was the shopping list for last week. Upon reading it, Michael froze, gripping at reality´s crumbling down. He blinked a few times before re-reading the note and throwing it on the ground.

The note read:

Michael. You're a smart boy. Come and find your mother. Oh, and bring your animal friends too.

Signed,

Jackson

At least he was courteous to signing it, Michael thought. The last time he had seen Jackson was at the closed off research facilityy. What does he want now? While he was in his thoughts, a phone rang. He shook his head and walked towards the phone, answering it.

¨Hello?¨

¨Ah, good. You picked up. It took you long enough,¨ the voice on the other end calmly said.

Michael gritted his teeth. ¨Jackson.¨

¨The one and only,¨ Jackson crackled before coughing.

¨What do you want?¨

¨I want your animal friends, Mikey, can't you read? I think you guys have something wonderful in store and instead of just holding back on your powers, I want to use them for myself.¨

¨You can´t use animorphers as toys, Jackson.¨

¨I never said toys, Mikey.¨ Michael could hear the smile in his voice. ¨I was thinking more of pawns for my chessboard.¨

Michael sighed, bringing his index finger and thumb over the bridge of his nose.

¨And I'm thinking that if you don´t show up,¨ Jackson paused. There was a shifting noise in the background when a small voice cracked over the phone.

¨Michael!¨ His mother cried before a small pause until Jackson came onto the phone again. ¨You see, I was thinking about using your mom for something until you came to me.¨

¨Don't you dare!¨

Jackson let out a cackle before getting back onto the phone. ¨Your vigorous attempt are useless! You think I´m going to give up! You're stupidly wrong!¨

Michael hung up on the baffoon and raced out of the door, towards Charlotte´s house. He wondered if the same thing had happened to her and if so, what were they going to do.

As the bell rings through the halls of Silver Creek High, putting an end to another day of school, I'm one of the first to push my way out the doors and head home.

The January air is bitter cold today. It's overcast, so the sun isn't giving off much heat, and the wind isn't helping anything. I pull my jacket tighter around me as I head on my way, but it does little good. The cold has already seeped into my bones.

"Hey," a voice says from behind me. I look over my shoulder to see that it's Jackson.

"H-hey..." Why is he talking to me?

"I want to know what happened at the bomb site," he says abruptly.

"I'm sure Michael would love to tell you all about it."

"I want you to tell me."

"Why?" I ask. "Why are you even talking to me?"

"So you can turn into a fox, right?" he asks, suddenly changing the subject.

I readjust the strap of my backpack on my shoulder. "That's the verdict."

"Did you have any plans tonight?" Another change in subject. I look over at him to see him scratching the back of his neck. He seems fidgety. More than usual.

"I've got a very busy day of closing myself in my room, putting on music and ignoring the world, ahead of me." I sigh. "Why do you ask?"

"I need to take you somewhere."

Need? "Uhh... Thanks, but I'm not interested."

"It's important," he urges.

"Why?"

"It just is!" Jackson spats. Then he sighs with irritation, recognizing that he lost his temper, and goes back to scratching at the back of his neck.

"Maybe another time. I really need to be getting home." I quicken my pace. Something weird is going on with him. Weird even for him.

He quickens his pace to catch up to me and grabs my arm. "What are you--" I start, but before I can react, Jackson stabs a syringe into the side of my neck and injects me with something. "--trying to..."

My whole body goes weak and numb at the same time. My legs come out from under me and I collapse.

Above me, Jackson, sneering. Below me, the icy sidewalk. The world swims out of focus.

Then, blackness.

~ ~ ~

My eyes slowly flutter open. They feel heavy, and I'm barely able to keep them open at first. The room around me spins, and I close my eyes again until it subsides. When I open my eyes again, everything around me is a blur, lapsing in time. Where am I?

Slowly coming to, my vision comes back into focus and the world levels back out, no longer lagging.

I'm in a room. It's huge. Concrete makes up the floors, three of the walls are made of brick while the fourth wall--the one I'm facing--is made entirely of windows, though most of them are broken or completely smudged over with dirt. A concrete pillar holds up the ceiling every twenty feet or so.

I look down at myself to find that I'm sitting in a plastic chair. My arms are tied behind my back, my body tied to the chair, and my feet have been tied together, all with rope.

A jolt of panic shoots through me. I've been kidnapped.

I look to the left of me to see another woman tied to a chair, about a dozen feet away. "Mrs..." The dryness of my throat makes it difficult to speak, and my voice sounds a mile away. I cough. "Mrs. Anthony?"

Her head whirls around at the sound of my voice. Her mouth is gagged and her cheeks are wet with tears, but a look of recognition crosses her face when she sees that it's me. Why is Michael's mom here? What the hell is happening?

"Don't worry. I'm going to get us out of here," I tell her weakly. If I can morph, then I'll slip right out of these ropes and we can escape before our capture even knows we're gone.

I close my eyes and concentrate on morphing into a fox, but it doesn't work. Just as I attempt to try again, a voice rises up behind me.

"Don't even bother. The sedative I gave you will keep you from morphing for at least twelve hours." It's Jackson's voice. His shoes click against the concrete as he comes to stand in front of me.

"What the hell is this?" The more I come to, the angrier I get. I fight against the restraints. "What are you doing, Jackson?"

"Why do you think I'm doing this? I want you and your friends."

My eyes widen a little with recognition. "Who are you working with?" He just laughs. I peer over at Michael's mom, then back to him. "Let her go, Jackson. She has nothing to do with this."

"No, no, no. I'm not letting her go. She's my leverage."

"If she's your leverage, then what am I?"

He smiles and turns toward the windows. Scratches at the back of his neck again. "You're my mission." When he pulls his hand away from his neck, I notice a lump under the skin, the size of a quarter.

My stomach sinks. He's been chipped.

After a moment of silence, Jackson's phone rings. He pulls it out of his pocket and holds it up to his ear. A moment later, he turns to me and says, "I've got to take this. Don't go anywhere." He laughs, then leaves through a metal door at the back of the room.

I fight against the ropes, trying to stretch them out and free myself, but it's no use. Whatever ropes he used were a good ones. All right. Plan B. Or, rather... C?

I look around the room and my eyes fall on a folding table against the right wall, about twenty feet away. Mrs. Anthony and my's bags sit on it, and in front of the bags, whatever had been in our pockets. For me, that includes my cell phone.

I glance back at the door Jackson left through, then I start scooting my chair towards the table. Inch by inch, the legs of my chair screeching against the concrete, I make it closer to my phone.

After what feels like an eternity, my chair hits the table. I turn my chair to face away from it and reach up behind me. My fingers brush against the phone. Come on. Come on. After a couple of tries, I manage to pull it into my hands behind my back. I turn it on, swipe the bar to unlock it, then hold down the home button until it enters into help mode.

"Hello, Layla. What can I help you with today?" the phone says.

Thank god. I push the phone back up onto the table with shaking hands, then scoot my chair around to face it. "Call Michael."

"Calling Michael."

My phone rings a couple times, then the line connects and I hear a, "Hello?"

I sigh with relief. "Michael, it's Layla."

"Where are you?" He seems panicked.

"Jackson," I say, trying to keep a sudden feeling of desperation at bay. "He drugged me on my way home from school and took me somewhere. He tied me to a chair and... Michael, he has your mom."

"I know. Layla, is Charlotte with you?"

"No, she isn't."

Michael sighs. "Thank god. Where are you?" he asks again.

I look around the room. "I'm not sure. It's an abandoned building. One wall is completely windows, but most of them are broken. I think I'm on the second or third story." I take in a deep breath, trying to stay calm. "Out the windows, I can see warehouses. And..." I squint out the windows. "And there's water... A lake? The sun is shining through the windows, so they're facing the west. That's all I've got. I have no idea where he took me."

"All right, we're going to come and find you."

"Michael, wait. Jackson said that he was using your mom for leverage, but that he wanted me because I was a part of his plan. I think we all are. If you come and find me, you'll be walking into a trap," I warn him.

"I know. Jackson told me he wants to use the Animorphers for his own intensions. We'll be careful."

"Michael..."

"Just hang in there--"

"Michael, listen to me! Jackson has something in his neck. He was chipped. But it's... it's bigger than a tracker. I think he might be--"

Suddenly, the phone is ripped out of my hand. I look over my shoulder to see Jackson standing over me. "Hmm... Even more resourceful than I'd anticipated. Well, that's all right. If Michael is coming to us, then that's one less Animorpher I have to deal with. Makes my job a whole lot easier." He gives me a wry smile, then he lifts my phone up and hurls it into the wall. It shatters into a dozen pieces, all over the concrete floor.

Then he grabs onto the back of my chair and drags it all the way back to where it had been originally, the back legs screeching once again against the cement. Only this time, he drags it a little further and shoves my chair into a concrete pillar.

He grabs another rope off of the ground and ties me to the pillar. "Can't be taking any risks now, can we?"

"You're insane," I tell him flatly. "You have no idea what you've gotten yourself into. Jackson, you are way in over your head."

He looks up for a moment, pondering my words, but then he just shrugs. "You know what you and Michael's mom have in common?" Jackson pulls a white cloth out of his back pocket. "Neither of you know when to shut up." Then he shoves it between my teeth and ties it around the back of my neck, keeping me from speaking.

I fight against the restraints, try to get the cloth out of my mouth. "You're feisty," he says. I just glare back at him defiantly. "Well, I should get going. Got a lot of stuff to do. You know, take a shower... capture more Animorphers. It's a big day." He gives me a look that sends an icy chill down my spine, then he turns and leaves once again through the metal door.

Dammit. Dammit. Dammit, I say over and over again in my head. This is really bad.

Michael, whatever you do, do it fast, I think, continuing to fight against the ropes. There's more happening here than we understand. A part of me wants to know what's going on, and the other part is afraid to find out.

But whatever happens... one thing's for sure. This is going to be a big day for us Animorphers.

Juggling human normalcy with uniquely animalistic tendencies is no fun.

I poked around at the bowl of chili my mom prepared, searching for more shreds of carrots. The chunks of turkey almost made me gag. I couldn't stomach the red beans and their distinctly meaty texture, either. But I was hungry and couldn't find any more carrots, so I blindly took a spoonful and emptied it into my mouth.

You're a omnivorous human, Charlotte - act like one!

Nope.

The chili carrots I had spent so long searching for said farewell to my stomach and hello to the trashcan (as did the beans and chunks of turkey, but they had only been introduced to my tongue).

Still hungry but in no mood to eat anything, I pulled out my math homework and stuck my earbuds in. Tapping my pencil eraser impatiently against the paper, I realized that I couldn't concentrate on a single polynomial. Immediately defeated, I yawned and allowed the music to wash over my weary mind.

Afterward deciding to be a somewhat responsible math student, I texted Layla for help.

> Charlotte: Mrs. Tangeman wants to torture us with this homework. I don’t even know how to do #1. Do you?

Not delivered.

I cocked an eyebrow. Not delivered? That’s odd.

My stomach, annoyed that it had been cheated of its orange vegetables, growled. I ignored it. I folded my arms onto the table and dropped my forehead onto my math homework, that which had nothing written on it but my name. The gentle and slow song that was on must have lulled me to sleep; next thing I knew, I was being jolted awake by a sudden, alarming voice.

Charlotte! Where are you?

I sat up abruptly and my arms shot out like gangly gazelle legs trying to gain purchase on the slippery kitchen table. A glass half full of water was knocked onto the floor and shattered to pieces.

Michael? I thought, my heart beating faster than was humanly possible.

Yes! Where are you?

I’m in the kitchen. Where are you? I checked to make sure my arms were still arms and not gazelle legs; they were still the same, but riddled with anxious, gazelle-esque nerves. You scared me!

Sorry. I’m outside your front door. You weren’t answering.

Oh. I stood up and picked my way around the shards of grass. I think I must’ve fallen asleep. I’ll be right there.

Hurry. We have to get the others.

A cold feeling arrests my chest. The others? What happened?

Um… I’ll tell you when you get out here. I’m not much of a fan of this thoughtspeak stuff.

I put my shoes on and grabbed a small backpack to keep my morphing suit in, just in case we needed it. I glanced disdainfully at the kitchen floor, a mess of littered glass and puddles of water, and decided to let it be. My dad would be home soon, and he’d wonder what happened. I’ll play dumb and blame the cat.

What? Michael said.

Sorry. Nothing.

I sent a quick text to my dad explaining that I was doing homework with Michael and might not be home when he got back. Then I slipped outside and greeted said study buddy, whose brows were knit in anxious worry but who put his arm around me and smiled nevertheless.

“What happened?” I asked again. We started walking down the steps.

“Remember Jackson? Well, the sonofagun just kidnapped two people - my mother and Layla - and he’s holding them hostage. We don’t know where, but Layla was able to call me about ten minutes ago and give me some information about the building where they’re kept.”

“Oh God,” I whispered. “What are we going to do?”

“No idea. Layla said that my mom’s there for leverage and that by trying to rescue them we’ll be walking into a trap. I don’t know. It’s all a big mess.”

“Can we call the police?”

Michael shrugged. “We should talk to the others first.” He pulled me closer. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

I didn’t say anything. I felt sick.



One hour later, the whole crew (minus Layla, of course) was gathered in Michael’s living room. Neon, Dan, and Riley were researching on their laptops and phones for the possible position of the building Layla had described.

“There must be a lot about Jackson that we don’t know about,” Emma said. “Layla said that he’s chipped - does that mean he’s an animorpher too?”

“Probably,” Cole said. “If so, I hope he’s an animal that would be helpless and easy to defeat.”

“Like a kitten?” Riley said, glancing up from her phone.

Cole laughed. “Precisely.”

“The kitten of darkness is no common kitten,” Neon muttered.

I was worried about Layla. What was Jackson doing to her? Had she been punished when he caught her on the phone talking to Michael?

“Layla didn’t give us much to work off of,” Dan said, peering intently at his laptop and scrolling through different pages.

“It was the best she could do,” Jinx said, rubbing his hands together nervously. "How many lakes are in this area, anyway? I can't imagine it'd be too hard to narrow it down to the right one."

Then, at the same exact time, both Neon and Riley gasped. They looked at each other, mouths hung open. “The lake…” Riley whispered.

Neon's face spread into a triumphant grin. “By your dance studio..."

“Where you can see the abandoned warehouses across the water…”

“With the broken windows!”

They finally broke eye contact and Riley laughed joyously. Neon's face was flushed red, and his bright blue eyes were shining.

“Now, wait a minute…” Cole said, rising from his chair.

“No!” Neon exclaimed, leaping from the couch and tossing one end of his red scarf behind his shoulder. “No waiting. We have no time to waste. Riley and I know exactly where Mrs. Anthony and Layla are being held hostage, and the sooner we get there the better. Let’s go!”



Riley’s dance studio was only a few blocks from her house. We suited up and were at the banks of the lake Layla had described in less than half an hour. The water was filthy, and a thin layer of a mossy green substance coated its surface. There didn’t seem to be any fish. It smelled gross, too.

“Eutrophication at its finest,” Dan said, knowing that I’d know what he was talking about. I nodded in agreement. The industry from the nearby warehouses must have poisoned the water.

“How do we get across?” Michael asked, pacing at the edge.

“Dan and I could fly across,” Emma said. “The rest of you might have to find a way around, or else get a boat. I’m guessing that no one’s going to swim in that stuff.”

Cole was in a sulky mood, but he stepped forward. “I’ll morph and then climb a tree, and see where we can get around.”

“Good idea,” Riley said, smiling sweetly. Cole seemed to relieve a bit of his tension and smiled back before turning around and slipping into the forest.

I stuck next to Michael. The sun was steadily fading, and as usual I was getting anxious. I was also fairly hungry, having barely eaten all day. The grass at my feet was looking tasty.

Soon after, Cole returned from the forest, still in his monkey form. We’ll need to move quickly, he said to all of us, but there is a way around the lake through the forest. After that we’ll have to weave between a few warehouses in order to reach the right building. He gestured behind him. The terrain is tough, so if you think you’d be better off in your animal form, morph. He flicked his tail, gave a curt nod, then disappeared back into the forest.

I looked at Michael, unsure of whether or not I should morph. Unlike some of the others, I hadn’t really practiced turning into my animal. I was too scared.

“Only do what you’re comfortable with,” Michael said.

When everyone except Neon appeared to be morphing, I consented and morphed too. The change felt considerably more natural than last time, but when I tried to stand, I couldn’t. I could barely even keep my head up. The tiny horns sprouting from my skull felt terribly heavy.

What’s the matter? Michael asked.

I don’t know. I’m too weak.

Dan the eagle gestured at the grass with a wing. Morphing takes a lot of energy. Eat something.

Alright, thanks. You guys go on ahead. I’ll catch up. I was embarrassed, because this same thing had happened last time at the bomb site when I was too scared to go on.

I’ll wait with you, Michael said, and sat next to me. The rest of the animorphers went on ahead - Dan and Emma flying over the lake and everyone else going around.

I nibbled on the grass as quickly as I could, hoping desperately to get my energy back. Michael was waiting with me instead of going with the others to find his mom. He seemed miraculously patient and calm, and sat beneath the trees, pawing idly at his paintbrush tail.

The grass did wonders, and in two minutes I was on my hooves. My stomach stopped hurting, and I was able to lift my head.

Ready? Michael asked, rising to his paws.

I think so. I snatched one more mouthful of grass, feeling, in fact, quite energetic. I’ll race you!

Without waiting for an answer, I leaped past him and bounded into the depths of the forest. Immediately I saw why Cole had warned about the terrain - the undergrowth was thick with roots and vegetation - but my body was tiny and I could weave around everything swiftly. The sound of a lion crashing loudly through the forest behind me only fueled my instinctive adrenaline. I stuck to the gradual bend of the lake, leaping and bounding this way and that, up and around the bushes and trees.

The math homework on my desk nagged at me as I ignored it, looking out at the frost collecting on my window. It was cold today. Even the chill inside the house was enough to make me grab a third sweater; I'd been on the edge of shivering all day.

I let out a breath and looked back down at the papers in front of me. "What is the square root of 2 to the negative 9 plus 3 power?" I stared at it. It stared back at me. "Who really needs to know math anyway?" I closed the textbook, then groaned. Can't ignore it forever.

I flipped the book back open and took a look at the next question. If x*x+2x-35=0 then x=? My eye twitched. I was going to be here all day, and the headache lingering in the back of my skull didn't help anything.

Finally, I sighed, picked up my phone and called Emma. She was practically a math genius.

"Gwen? What's up?"

"Hey, Emma. Are you busy? I could really use some help on this math homework. Mrs. Tangeman is kicking my butt this semester."

"Sorry, I can't come over tonight," she said, a bit rushed.

"Oh. Are you studying with Dan again?"

"Not exactly... Something happened."

I sat up a little straighter in my chair. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Jackson kidnapped Layla and Michael's mom and we're going to try and get them back."

"He what?" I blurted out. "Why didn't you tell me? I can help."

Emma hesitated. "I... didn't know if you would want to know. Since, you know, you're not like us."

Her words took me by surprise. When I didn't say anything for several seconds, she added: "I didn't mean it like that. I just... I didn't know if you wanted to be a part of this or not. We weren't really given a choice, but you were. I didn't know where you stood."

A sharp pain shot through my head and I squeezed my eyes shut. Eventually, it subsided. "It sounds like you could use all the help you can get," I said, pushing her words aside. "Do you know where they are?"

"I'll text you the address. Come as soon as you can."

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

The engine of my grandmother's old Saab rattled as I drove through the abandoned warehouse yard, following the pin on my phone's map that drew ever closer. The car had never liked the cold, even when it was new. I just hoped it would hold out until I found the others. Getting stranded in an abandoned industrial complex in twenty degree weather wasn't exactly what I had in mind for my Tuesday night.

Finally, I rolled past a row of outdoor storage units and spotted them. Everyone but Layla. Everyone but me.

I pulled in next to them. Michael and Jinx's eyes flashed catlike until they realized it was me, and they faded back to their normal colors.

"Hey," I said, closing the car door as quietly as I could.

"Are you okay?" Emma asked me. "You look pale."

"I'm fine," I said. I tried to sound upbeat, but despite the three sweaters and winter jacket I wore, I was still on the edge of shivering. I hadn't been sure until then, but I definitely had a fever. "What's the plan?"

"We don't know a lot," Michael said. "Just that Jackson has them on the second or third floor and that he has some kind of weird chip in his neck. Jackson apparently wants all of us, so if we go waltzing in there, we're gonna be walking into a trap. We need to be fast and quiet."

"I can fly around the building and try to pinpoint exactly where they are," Emma suggested.

We all agreed that it was a good idea, and within moments, she had taken flight, soaring high into the winter air. I had seen a few of them morph by then, but it still never ceased to amaze me.

We waited five minutes, then ten, then fifteen... and there was no sign of her anywhere.

I let out a worried breath, the cold causing it to come out in a white plume. "Something's wrong. She should be back by now."

"I'll go in," Neon suggested. "They won't even see me."

"I'm not so sure that's the best idea," I said.

He scoffed at me. "You think I was asking permission? Pssh... I thought you minions would have known me well enough by now to know that I don't take orders from anyone but me." Before anyone could say anything else, he morphed into his tiny kitten form and took off into the warehouse.

We waited another twenty minutes. No sign of Neon or Emma. The sun was setting, the air was growing colder, and we were running out of time.

Riley rubbed her hands up and down her arms to warm herself. Her nose and cheeks were a bright shade of pink and at this point, I wasn't the only one shivering. "What do we do now?"

"I say we go in. All of us," Jinx said.

"Are you crazy?" Dan looked at him with disbelief. "Michael said we'd be walking into a trap. Jackson already got Emma and Neon. What happens if he gets all of us?"

"Every time Jackson has gotten one of us, we were alone. If we go in as a group, we'll overpower him."

"Assuming he's alone," I pointed out. "We don't know how many people are working with him."

Michael crossed his arms over his chest. "Layla didn't say anything about anyone being there but him."

"The fact is, we don't know anything for sure," I said.

"And we never will." Jinx was growing agitated. "Unless we go in there! We can't sit out here forever. We'll freeze to death. We have to do something."

"I agree. I'm tired of waiting around," Cole said, stepping up next to Jinx.

"But what if they capture all of us?" Charlotte asked. It was clear the idea made her nervous, but I guess that wasn't saying much.

"They can try." There was determination in Cole's voice. He and Jinx had made up their minds, and there was no changing them now. And the truth was, if anyone was going to go in, then we all needed to.

"Okay." Michael reached into his duffle bag and pulled out a walkie talkie. He started tossing them, one by one, to each of us. "We go in. We each get a walkie talkie. We'll split into three groups of two and have someone stand guard. The second one of us sees someone, anyone we let the others know. Got it?"

I catch the walkie talkie in my hand and give him a nod. "Got it."

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

We slipped as quietly as we could through the metal back door. The second we got inside, we were forced to make a decision: left or right? Michael, Charlotte, Dan and Riley took the right. Cole stood guard outside, which meant Jinx and I had to take the left.

The bottom level was a maze of hallways and empty rooms. It was dark and dusty, with little in the way of furniture. And no signs of anyone. We found the stairwell and headed up to the second level.

"You seem tense," I told him, noticing how rigid he held himself. Step by step, we made the incline upwards.

"Yeah, we're in a building with a psychopath who is out to get us and has already taken three of us. Aren't you a little tense?"

"Of course I am. But that's not what I meant. You were unusually on edge before Emma even took off. You weren't even this tense at the lake house."

"What is your point?" Jinx asked, growing agitated.

"You care about her, don't you? Like, a lot."

"Who?"

I rolled my eyes at him. Guys could be really dense sometimes when it came to girls. Finally, we made it onto the second story landing. "I'm talking about Lay--"

The instant Jinx stepped through the door, something sparked and he doubled over in pain. A taser. He collapsed on the ground, his body twitching with electricity, to reveal Jackson standing behind him.

"You guys aren't very smart, are you?" he said, a taunting smile widening on his face. He held up a list and made a couple checkmarks on the paper. "With you and Jinx, that makes five. You guys are making this too easy."

On the other side of the room, Michael and Riley stumbled in through a doorway. I quickly turned my eyes away from them. Couldn't let Jackson know they were here, too. So, I played along.

"What do you want, Jackson? Who are you working for?"

"Well, isn't that just the popular question." Michael and Riley began creeping up behind him. I focused my eyes harder on Jackson. "You'll find that out any minute now. You're too late to save your friends. You have two choices. The easy way, where you let me tie you up without struggle, or the hard way, where I have to taser you just like your friend Jinx, here."

"You don't want me. Trust me. I'm not like them."

"Oh, is that so? Well, you know what I just heard? That you want it the hard way."

Just as Jackson lunged for me, the taser sparking in his hand, Michael grabbed him from behind and yanked him backwards. He stumbled and lost his balance, falling back onto the concrete floor. The taser clattered from his hand.

Michael yanked Jackson onto his stomach and dived on top of him. "Now! Do it now!"

Riley pulled a pocket knife out of her boot and brought the blade to hover above the lump in the back of Jackson's neck. She hesitated, turning the blade this way and that, trying to figure out how best to do it.

"Riley!" Michael yelled.

She gritted her teeth and dragged the blade against the back of Jackson's neck. He yelled at her to stop, but she ignored him and teased the chip out from under his skin. It was at least twice the size of our trackers. What the hell is that?

Riley flung the chip on the ground and stomped on it, breaking it into pieces.

Michael and Riley stepped away from Jackson, both breathing hard. I circled around to stand beside them. Jackson flew up off the ground and brought his hand around to the back of his neck. "What have you done?!"

At first he was angry. He staggered towards Michael, then lost his balance and fell onto his knees. Suddenly weak and emotional, he looked up at us, completely hopeless. "What have you done?" A tear streamed down his cheek.

Another moment, then his face twisted into something outraged and he started slamming his fist into the ground, over and over again. The three of us took a step back. Finally he stopped, though his fist was now bloody. He just stared down at the ground, swaying a little on his knees.

"Jackson..?" Michael tried carefully. He continued to stare down at the ground for a moment, then he looked up at us and laughed. His laughs turned into cries, then his cries turned back into laughs. I'd thought that Jackson wasn't entirely sane before all this happened, but now I was certain that he'd lost his mind.

Suddenly, all of our walkie talkies came to life. "Guys, you need to get out of there!" Cole yelled at us. "Japanese soldiers coming in after you. There's dozens of 'em, pouring in through the back door. They have guns!"

"Shit." Michael pulled his walkie talkie off of his hip, but before he could respond, Jackson leaped for him and slammed him into the concrete wall behind us. The walkie talkie flew out of his hand.

"It's all your fault!" he yelled. "You've ruined everything!"

CRASH! The windows on the far wall exploded toward us. Men on ropes in US Military uniforms. "EVERYONE DOWN ON THE GROUND!"

We all put our hands up. Then the Japanese soldiers crashed into the room from the stairwell and opened fire. We all scattered, heading for whichever door was closest, whichever direction was safest.

The gunfire was deafening. I fled into an empty adjoining room and before I knew it, we were all separated. I looked around the room to find that it was a dead end. The only way to leave was the way I came in. Dammit!

I looked all around until I spotted an air duct in the ceiling. I pulled a table away from the wall and positioned it directly under the vent, then pulled myself on top and undid the screws holding the vent in place.

The duct was big enough, so I hoisted myself inside and picked a direction. It was tight and dusty, but if my choices were this or going into a war zone between US and Japanese military, I would have chosen this any day.

Finally, I hit another opening: the stairwell. I peered out to see that it was now void of Japanese militia and shoved the vent open with my feet. I jumped down, my shoes hitting the concrete hard. The door flew open and I jumped. Jinx stumbled through it and slammed it closed behind him, falling against the door a bit.

"Dammit Jinx, you scared me half to death!" I yelled at him.

"Sorry," he said weakly.

"Are you okay?"

He looked down at his twitching hands, then sandwiched them under his arms. "I'll be fine. What the hell is going on?"

"I don't know. But for now, the most important thing is rescuing our friends. We'll have time to figure everything out later."

He nodded, and together we darted up the stairs to the third level. I flung the door open and took in the room around me. Unlike the first two stories, this one was a giant open room. No hallways, no rooms. Just one completely empty level.

I took a few steps into the room, looked to my left and sighed with utter relief. Layla, Emma, Neon and Michael's mom. All tied to chairs and accounted for.

"Gwen!" Emma yelled.

I didn't hesitate for a second. One by one, I untied them.

"What's going on down there?" Layla asked weakly, pulling her arms back into her lap once Jinx had untied them.

"Japanese... Americans... Just about everyone." I pulled my walkie talkie off my hip. "Cole, what's your twenty?"

The walkie talkie crackled to life. "I'm at the front of the building. There's another door, and I think I have a way for us to get the hell out of here."

"Okay, keep an eye out for us." I velcro'd the walkie talkie back onto my hip and turned to Emma. "The safest way out for you is to fly out the way you came in. Cole is at the--"

"I can't," she said, shaking. "Jackson injected us with something. We can't morph for at least twelve hours."

"The only way down it through the stairwell then. We need to get going."

Just as we all turned to head for the door, a Japanese soldier came through and hoisted a gun at us. He yelled something in Japanese. Before we could react, Lion Michael tackled him to the ground from behind. The soldier hit his head on the ground and went out cold. Then Lion Michael looked up at us and morphed into his human self, the tight morphing suit clinging to his athletic build. God, he's so hot.

Mrs. Anthony stared at him, speechless. He stared back at her, his lips quivering with unspoken words.

"M-Michael..?" she said.

"I'll explain everything. But for right now, we need to go," he told her sincerely. She continued to stare at him.

Cole came through on the radio and said, "I've got Riley. More cars are pulling up. Reinforcements I think. Where the hell are you guys?"

I pulled on Mrs. Anthony's arm, prompting her forward. "Michael and Jinx, get them down to Cole at the front entrance. I'll look for Dan and Charlotte."

They nodded and everyone started down the stairs. I turned and headed up to the forth level. Military soldiers ran past me, down the stairs, not even noticing I was there. We may have been the reason the US and Japanese military came in the first place, but now there was so much chaos that they barely noticed we were there.

My headache spiked again and I stumbled into the railing. I took my head in my hands and gritted my teeth until it subsided. Finally it did, but then I started shivering again. What is going on with me?

I heard a crash from above, reminding me of my mission. Putting my uneasiness aside, I stumbled up the rest of the way and flung the door open just in time to see Jackson grab Dan and slam him down on a table. The wooden legs gave out and he crashed to the ground on a pile of splintering wood.

Jackson spun around when he heard the door creak open. Something wild flashed in his eyes when he saw me. "You! This is all your fault!" He charged for me and shoved his hands into my shoulders. It took me off my feet and I tumbled back down the flight of stairs.

I slammed into the wall at the bottom. Everything hurt. My pulse spiked, my heart pounded. Suddenly, my headache exploded. I shivered uncontrollably while my skin felt like it was on fire. I looked down at my arm only to find grey fur spreading down my skin. The nails on my fingers turned black and I felt some of my teeth start to lengthen. Then the world swam out of focus.

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

The concrete was cold against its paws, the layout of the building confusing to its wild, nature-born instincts. But for some reason, it had a sense of urgency. And somehow, without being told, without seeing its own reflection, it knew it was a wolf.

Step by step, the wolf made its way up the stairwell. When it made it to the top, the scene in front of it was both confusing and familiar. A human with pale skin and black hair holding another, slightly younger human against the wall, his nimble fingers wrapped around the other's throat.

The wolf wasn't sure why, but it felt the intense need to attack the human who pinned the other against the wall. The impulse was too strong. This human had to be stopped.

The wolf bared its teeth, letting a growl rise up from deep within its throat. The human turned around. "This just keeps getting better!" he yelled, pulling a switchblade out of his pocket and flipping it open.

The knife did not scare the wolf. It only made its desire to attack this human more intense. Now, this human was a threat.

The wolf charged for the man. Sprung off of its muscular haunches and hit the man full force. A sharp pain dug deep into the wolf's shoulder. The knife. But it hardly cared... Hardly noticed. The man fell backwards onto the concrete, hard. He laughed in the wolf's face. The wolf stood on his chest and without a second of hesitation, went for his throat. Its strong jaws were no match for the man, and within seconds, his laughter died with him.

By now, the other human had slumped against the wall, exhausted. His face was bloody, which only made it harder for the wolf to resist attacking him, too. "Gwen...?" he said hesitantly.

The wolf growled. Took a step closer to the boy. For some reason, the wolf felt conflicted about this human. Like something deep in the back of its mind was telling it not to attack him.

Someone flew up the stairs behind them and stopped when they got to the top. The wolf spun around to see another human. A girl, with blonde hair and glasses.

"Charlotte, it's Gwen," the boy said quickly.

Her eyes widened. "Gwen?"

The wolf didn't know what these humans were talking about, or who 'Gwen' was. But it did know that there were now humans on either side of it. It was cornered. These humans were most definitely a threat.

So the wolf ignored the little voice in the back of its mind that said these humans could be trusted, and it stalked towards the girl, baring its teeth.

The girl put her hands out and took a step back. "Gwen, it's Charlotte."

The wolf continued on.

The girl took another step back, bumping into the metal railing behind her. "Gwen, please..." she pleaded.

These words meant nothing. Each step brought the wolf closer and closer.

Finally, the girl yelled, "Gwen! Stop!" The sudden sternness and volume in the girl's voice reached something deep in the wolf's mind, a part the wolf hardly knew was there. It was as if it could hear the girl's voice both inside and outside of its head.

The wolf stopped, its face softening to no longer bare teeth. It felt like it was waking from a dream, like it was breaking the surface of what had seemed like a bottomless ocean only moments ago. It felt weak on its paws. Its mind slipped as it stumbled into a wall. The girl took a step closer, a look of worry drawing upon her face, but the wolf could only acknowledge it for a moment before the world fell into blackness.

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

The world swam back into focus, and with it, Charlotte and Dan standing over me. Everything felt hazy and the pain in my shoulder was agonizing. Though, oddly, the headache I'd been battling all day was completely gone.

I looked down at myself to find that I was curled into the corner of the room with Charlotte's coat thrown over me. A deep wound in my shoulder made sense of the pain. And beneath the coat, nothing.

"W--what happened?" I asked.

Charlotte and Dan both looked at me with wide eyes. "You morphed, Gwen," she said.

At first, the words didn't compute. That's not possible. The experiment didn't work on me.

Then I remembered seeing the fur spreading over my skin, and now not wearing any clothes. Oh my god. The experiment did work on me.

"What happened to Jackson?" I asked. A weight seemed to settle on their shoulders the moment I asked. "Is he dead?"

"Yes," Charlotte said carefully.

"How..?"

Dan hesitated, his eyes filled with concern. "You... killed him, Gwen."

Dan looked over his shoulder and I followed his gaze to see Jackson's lifeless body sprawled out on the concrete floor. Blood stained his shirt and pooled on the ground beneath his neck and throat. The blade of a knife glinted in his hand.

I felt like I couldn't breath. "I attacked him..." I said quietly.

"No. The wolf attacked him," Charlotte tried to tell me. "It wasn't you you Gwen. Michael tried to attack me the first time he morphed. It wasn't his fault, and this wasn't your fault, either."

The wolf attacked him.

"I turned into a... wolf?" Suddenly, my breaths came in rapid gasps. I was having a full blown panic attack.

Shouting rose up from the lower levels. The sound of glass breaking echoed from a nearby room. More troops were coming through the fourth-story windows, but I hardly noticed.

Charlotte bent down in front of me. "Gwen. We have to go. We're going to figure this out, but not now. Take a deep breath. You have to pull yourself together."

I focused all of my energy on calming my heart rate. On taking slow, deep breaths. And somehow, I managed to pull myself back together, if only a little. I gave Charlotte a nod, then she and Dan helped me up.

I shook all over, but it wasn't from the fever anymore. I put Charlotte's coat on and zipped up the front. Fortunately, it was a long coat and nearly went down to my knees.

I took one last look at Jackson, then we headed down the stairs. I felt sick, and my legs were barely sturdy enough to carry me down the stairs just as the troops burst into the room. I turned into a wolf. I turned into a wolf and I killed someone.

I killed someone.

By the time we made it down to the second level, gunfire rang out all around us. American and Japanese military ran up and down the stairs, guns hoisted and yelling at one another. We kept our heads down and tried not to bring attention to ourselves, and fortunately, the soldiers were so distracted by their immediate threats that we managed to slip through the cracks.

We found the front door and Charlotte held it open for us. Cole whistled at us from nearby and we spotted him crouched behind some dumpsters.

"It's about time," he said. "I was starting to think something happened to you guys in there."

He stood up and led us around the dumpsters to an open manhole in the ground. One by one, we climbed down and landed in the shallow sewer water. Everyone was there waiting for us. Layla leaned against the wall, shivering despite the fact that Jinx had given her his jacket. Mrs. Anthony stood a few feet away from the others, but her eyes never left Michael.

Emma looked at me when I made it down. "Gwen, are you okay?"

I nodded, but honestly, everything felt like a blur.

"Did you guys see Jackson anywhere?" Michael asked.

"He's dead, Michael," I told him sadly. He looked taken aback, and his eyes filled with sorrow. Jackson may have caused all this, but it wasn't his fault, and he was Michael's friend. "I'm so sorry."

He took a couple steps away, then nodded and started down the tunnel. "We should get moving," he said. "It's not safe here."

Everyone picked themselves up and followed after him. Layla looked weak, probably from whatever Jackson drugged her with, and Dan was slower than usual, sore from the beating he took from Jackson. But no one but me had the guilt weighing on them of taking a life. And it wasn't some Japanese soldier either. It was a kid, and it was Michael's friend.

And once Michael finds out it was me who killed him, he'll probably never speak to me again. How can we go back to school after something like this? How can we go back to normal?

Step by step, we splashed through the icky water of the sewer. Away from the guns and the Japanese assassins, away from the abandoned warehouse, away from the memories that will haunt us and scar us for a long time to come. The important thing is that we got Layla back. And as we headed down the sewer tunnels, we were all together. All ten of us. The Animorphers. No matter what happens in the future, as long as we're all together, we'll make it through.

One step at a time.

"All right guys. This is you." The stage manager looks down at his clipboard, then slaps a sign on the dressing room door that says Stint With Fiction. "You're going on at 5:30pm."

The manager hurries away as I, Riley, and the rest of Stint With Fiction heads through the door into the dressing room. It's surprisingly large, with an eclectic mix of couches and chairs. One side of the room has a long counter attached to the wall with mirrors bordered with lightbulbs hanging on the wall. Band posters of all shapes, sizes, and colors are plastered to the other three walls, and surround sound speakers have been set up, allowing us to hear what's happening on stage.

The floor is black and sticky, the couches are stained and ripped, and the parts of the walls that haven't been covered in posters are full of sharpie scribbles and lipstick lip-prints.

It's better than I ever could have expected.

The drummer, bass player and pianist start setting down their instrument cases and making themselves comfortable on the various couches. Riley looks around the room with stars in her eyes, then she turns to me, grabs onto my shoulders, and shakes them. "This is so exciting!"

"So you're not nervous?" I ask.

"Nope, cool as a cucumber," she says proudly. Then she gives me a look. "You know your part for the song, right?"

"Yep. We're doing Battle Scars, right?”

Riley's eyes widen. "No... We're doing Long Live. Please tell me you learned the right song."

I smile. "I know we're doing Long Live. I was just testing your nerves."

Riley sighs. "You can be really annoying. You know that, right?"

I just shrug.

Riley starts walking around the room, looking at all the posters and stops when she finds a wall that is covered with band names written in sharpie from all the bands that have performed here over the years. "No way..." She takes a step closer to the wall. "Steel Burn. Below Friction. Tsunami Of The Stolen. They've all played here." Riley looks over her shoulder at me. "They probably all got their start here. Just like we are." She turns back to the wall and brushes her hand over the words. "You can just smell the dreams that have come true here."

I scrunch up my nose. "I'm pretty sure that's not what that smell is."

"Oh, stop being so cynical," Riley says, turning back to me. "This is the first day of the rest of our lives. And one day, Stint With Fiction is going to be on that wall."

I've got to admit... That would be pretty cool.

Suddenly, the door opens and Emma and Gwen come inside. "Emmy!" Riley hurries over and gives her a big hug.

"I was afraid for a minute there that I wouldn't find you guys. There's like, a million doors back here," Emma says. "So, are you guys ready? Do you have everything you need? Because I've got extra guitar picks and make up and ear plugs..." Emma starts going through her bag.

"Emma..." Riley says, but Emma ignores her.

"Snacks in case someone's blood sugar drops, an extra pair of clothes, the music for the song in case anyone forgets it..."

"Emma?"

"Extra guitar strings..." Emma looks up at me. "You brought your guitar, right? Because Riley can't sing Long Live with an electric guitar backing her up."

"As the electric guitar player, I swear I didn't forget my electric guitar," I assure her.

"Emma..." Riley whines.

Emma looks over at her. "What?"

"Calm down. You're not even going up on stage," she says. "Just, remember to breathe, all right?"

Emma lets out a long breath. "Right. Sorry..."

Just then, the stage manager pokes his head in. "Five minute warning, guys."

I press my eyebrows down as I look at the watch on my wrist. "It's only five to five. You said we weren't going on until 5:30pm?"

"Change of plans. You guys are the first act now. Will you be ready in time?"

I give him a quick nod. "Yeah, we'll be there."

"Awesome. Thanks guys." The manager ducks his head back out and the rest of the band starts collecting their instruments.

"Good luck!" Gwen says. "Emma and I will be in the wings cheering you on."

Gwen whisks Emma back out the door before the change can make her any more anxious than she already is. I turn to Riley. "Are you good?"

Riley stares at the door, unblinking. Her breathing is quicker than it was before. "We're going on first?"

"Yep. Isn't that a good thing? We'll be the first impression the judges have."

"We'll also be the band that's least fresh in the judges minds. And besides that, we'll be the first impression."

"So?" I ask.

"So... My voice will be the first voice anyone hears. It's a lot of pressure. What if I sing badly?"

"Riley..." I walk up to her and put my hands on her shoulders. "In couple weeks I've known you, I've never heard you sing badly. Even when you fainted off the stage, it was a really graceful fall."

"That's not helpful," she says. The rest of the band starts heading out the door.

"You guys coming?" the drummer asks.

"Yeah, right behind you," I say, then turn back to Riley. "You are a born performer. You belong up there. You're going to do great."

I put my hand on Riley's back and guide her toward the door. She starts walking, but then she groans and stumbles into the wall.

"Riley?" I ask, concerned.

"Yeah, I'm good. I'm good. I just got dizzy for a second." She pushes away from the wall and starts towards the door again, then she lets out a cry and grabs her head. She falls against the wall and slides down to the floor.

I slide down onto my knees next to her, my heart starting to pound. "Riley, are you okay?"

She puts her head back against the wall and groans. "Something's wrong."

"Okay, okay. Here, let's get you some help." I take her hand and my eyes widen when I notice the tan fur spreading across her skin. "Riley, you're morphing. You have to stop yourself."

She grits her teeth, which now have long Lynx canines, and squeezes her eyes shut.

Just then, the speakers in the wall crackle to life. "Welcome everyone to the 2056 Battle of the Bands competition! Eight bands are competing today for the grand prize. First, let's introduce the judges!"

I look back down at Riley to see the fur continuing to spread down her arms. She opens her eyes and gasps, "I can't. I can't stop it."

Oh boy. My breathing quickens. This is the worst possible time for this to happen. What are we supposed to do now?

"Okay, okay. Ah... I will be right back," I assure her. I jump to my feet and put my hands out. "Don't go anywhere."

She gives me a look, then an uncontrollable spasm causes her to double over.

I run down the backstage hallway as fast as I can and slide to a halt as soon as I see Emma and Gwen standing in the wings.

"Where have you guys been! You're going on any minute!" Gwen says.

I shake my head, trying to catch my breath. "Riley's morphing."

Emma's eyes widen. "What?"

"She's morphing. She can't go on. Emma, you have to take her place."

Emma's mouth falls open, horror flooding her face. "Wha-- I.. I can't!"

I grab Emma by the shoulders. "Emma, there's no time! You have to go on for Riley. We'll try to be here for the second song. But for now, you have to go on." The announcer finishes introducing the judges and the crowd cheers. I let go of Emma and head back for the dressing room. "Good luck!"

"What about the electric guitar?" Gwen yells after me.

"Sing another song!" I yell back, then sprint back down the hall.

Hesitantly, I slowly open the dressing room door. I peek around to see that Riley is no longer where she'd been sitting, though the clothes she'd worn over her jumpsuit now lay in a shredded pile of fabric. "Riley...?"

Cautiously, I open the door further and slip inside... and that's when I hear the growling from behind me.

I slowly turn around to find myself staring into the eyes of a Lynx... a Riley Lynx.

"Riley?" I say again, but this time, Lynx Riley swipes at me, roaring in warning. Right now, it's not Riley. It's an angry Lynx that wants to know why it's trapped in a Battle of the Bands dressing room.

Have you ever heard an angry Lynx roar? It's horrifying.

"Riley... Riley, it's me. Cole," I say calmly. Maybe I can bring her back, just like Layla did when I turned into a monkey in the principal's office. "I'm not going to hurt you. I want to help you."

The lynx seems to calm down a little. She sets her paw back down, and takes a curious step towards me.

"From Silver Creek High, everyone put your hands together for... Stint. With. Fictionnnn!" The announcer blares over the speaker.

Bad timing.

Lynx Riley roars and lunges for me. It knocks me off my feet and a second before she can go for my face, I grab a drumstick off of the counter and shove it against her neck, distancing her face from mine.

Soft piano and cello music starts playing through the speakers. She did it. Emma went on.

I force Lynx Riley off of me and I scramble back to my feet. "Riley, listen to me! This isn't you. Try to remember who you are."

Finally, Emma starts singing.


Lynx Riley charges for me and I run towards the bathroom. I burst through the door just before she gets there, and manage to close it behind me.

The door rattles with Lynx Riley on the other side. What do I do now? "Listen to me! Remember, you're Riley! We're at Battle of the Bands."


The rattling stops, and for a few terrifying seconds, everything is completely silent except for Emma's voice coming over the speakers.

Slowly, I creek the door back open. Trying to get her to remember isn't working. Why did she turn? My eyes widen. She started morphing right after our time slot was changed. Her breathing had quicken, her pulse had raised... I need to calm her down.


I step back out into the dressing room, and for a moment, I don't see her. I slowly move further into the room and find her sniffing around the edge of the furniture.


Out of the corner of my eye, I see a heavy black folded up curtain sitting on one of the tables. Slowly, I grab it and unfold it, then take quiet steps towards her. Just as she turns her head to look at me, I toss the curtain on top of her. Then I slide down onto the ground and wrap my arms around her to keep her still.


At first, Lynx Riley lashes around, trying to escape. Eventually, she starts to calm down. We stay like this for a good fifteen seconds before I feel the Lynx start to change shape. Thank god. Finally, I see a hand reach out from under the curtain.

"Cole?"

I sigh, completely exhausted.

Riley grabs the curtain and pulls it away from her head. "What happened?"

I quickly stand up, getting off of her, and wipe my hands on my jeans. "You morphed into a Lynx."

Riley looks down at her jumpsuit, then back up at me. "What about Battle of the Bands? Did we give up our slot?"

I shake my head. "Not exactly." Then I nod towards the speakers.


Riley's eyes widen as she pulls herself up from the floor. "Emma?"

I nod. "If you're up for it, Stint With Fiction has another song and Emma's song is almost over."

"Yeah, let’s go." We both hurry for the door and jog down the back hallway to come into the wings again.

Gwen sighs when she sees us. "Thank god."

We walk into the wings, watching Emma finish her song onstage. She's actually pretty good. She has a nice voice.


Emma plays the last chord on the piano. The crowd cheers for her, and she looks out at them, amazed.

"Go, Emma!" Riley shouts next to me. Emma whirls around to look at us, and she lets out such a relieved breath that she looks like she's going to collapse.

I look over at Riley. "Ready?"

She nods. “Ready."

Its finally here. The Battle of the Bands. I don't think I’ve ever seen Riley so excited, and it's crazy to think that this is her chance. It took so much hard work for her to get here, and it’s truly gonna pay off.

With everything going on, I almost didn’t come. Mr. Neil has not approached me yet since that night in the woods, but it could be coming any day now. Just the memory of our conversation that night sends goosebumps across my arms.

If you do not comply, I will kill those you love…We will be watching you miss Tanner

But not even threats could keep me away today. I stand with Gwen backstage releasing my nerves by biting at my fingernails.

“Hey Em...You okay?” Gwen asks out of nowhere.

“Oh uh yeah. Just nervous for the band.” I smile excitedly.

“No, I meant because of the past few days...You seem off.”

“Oh that. Well I-” My voice is cut off by the loud voice of the announcer echoing through the venue. “Later.” I mouth to Gwen. She stares me down with her “this isn’t over” glare.

"Welcome everyone to the 2056 Battle of the Bands competition! Eight bands are competing today for the grand prize. First, let's introduce the judges!" I watch the stage intently avoiding Gwen’s gaze when Cole quickly runs up out of breath.

"Where have you guys been! You're going on any minute!" Gwen says.

"Riley's morphing." He gasps. My eyes go wide.

"What?" I ask quickly.

"She's morphing. She can't go on. Emma, you have to take her place."

What!?

"Wha-- I.. I can't!" I say as my stomach drops. Suddenly Cole grabs me by the shoulders with a firm grip.

"Emma, there's no time! You have to go on for Riley. We'll try to be here for the second song. But for now, you have to go on." I try to contradict him but the clapping of the audience muffles any noise I try to make. Cole starts off back towards the dressing rooms. "Good luck!" He yells.

"What about the electric guitar?" Gwen yells after him.

"Sing another song!" He yells back. I quickly turn to Gwen my eyes filling up with tears.

“Gwen...Gwen I can't.” My hands are now shaking uncontrollably. She grabs them tight.

“Emma. You’ve got this. Just play that song you showed me the other day. You have to do it for Riley.” I close my eyes tight. “Em. You’ve got support here. You have me back here, and you have friends in the audience like Layla, Jinx, Dan, and even Neon. You’re not gonna be alone up there.”

“That's the problem. There’s s-so many people. I c-cant.”

“Yes you can!” She says grabbing my face. “Just imagine that you’re flying. No one is in the audience. You’re alone, and it's just you and that piano. You’ve got this. You’ve got more musical talent in your fingers than I have in my whole body Em. Just breathe and go... For Riley.”

“For Riley.” I whisper.

"From Silver Creek High, everyone put your hands together for... Stint. With. Fictionnnn!" The air leaves my chest, and Gwen squeezes my hand tightly. I take a deep breath, and walk onto the stage. The lights are bright and the audience is clapping. When I take my place at the piano the audience becomes silent except for the few whispers of audience members who did not expect me. I shut my eyes tightly cutting out any distractions.

You are alone. You are flying.

I place my fingers gently on the keys, and begin playing the soft melody. With one last deep breath I take the terrifying plunge into my deepest fear. The lyrics are mine, and they flow easily.



You are alone. You are flying.



Almost like a movie images begin to appear in my mind. All of them relating to everything that has happened these past couple of weeks. I see the experiments, and my friends etched in fear.

And the hours pass by.
Now I just wanna be alone, but your close friends always seem to know when there's something really wrong.

I see Ryker’s body still in a hospital bed. I see my mom not sleeping to provide for me. I see pill bottles stacked on my bedside table.

And they're all laughing and asking me about you, but there was one thing missing.
And that was the moment I knew.

I see Mr. Neil’s face that night in the woods. The barrel of a gun pointed at my head. I see us running for our lives from gunshots.

What do you say when tears are streaming down your face in front of everyone you know?

I see Riley and everyone’s expressions the night my secret was revealed. I see the hurt and confusion.

And they're all standing around me singing "Happy Birthday To You."
But there was one thing missing, and that was the moment I knew.

And then suddenly, I see Riley smiling and hanging out in the auditorium before school. I see Gwen laughing so hard tears stream down her face while watching rom coms. I see Dan’s warm face the night he found me, and the way it felt to almost kiss him. I see my friends and the happiness we bring each other.

You called me later and said, "I'm sorry, I didn't make it."
And I said, "I'm sorry too."
And that was the moment I knew.

I smile as the last chord seems to drip from my fingers. Then before I can even open my eyes, people have already started clapping. It's like a dream, and for once I don’t want to wake up.

"Go, Emma!" I smile brightly when I hear Riley’s voice offstage. I turn to look at her, tears streaming down my face. I wipe them away quickly, and turn back to the audience. After a moment or so, I run to my friends off stage, and grabbed them in a group hug.

“I knew you could do it.” Gwen whispers in my ear.

“I’m so proud of you Emmy!” Riley says smiling.

“That was kind of...amazing.” I say with a gasp. We all laugh.

"Ready?" Cole asks pulling from the hug and turning to Riley.

“Ready." She says determined. They run onto the stage with the rest of Stint With Fiction’s members. Riley takes her place at the microphone.

“Sorry about our little...delay guys, but can I get another hand for our lovely opening act?” The crowd begins clapping again. “Thanks Emma Tanner!” Riley smiles quickly at me in the wings, and then looks to the band. The members nod, and the drummer lifts his sticks.

“1..2...1. 2. 3.” The music suddenly blasts from the speakers sending the audience into a frenzy. This is so different from our school auditorium. Its real, and exciting. I watch Riley in admiration. She seriously knows how to entertain a crowd.

When the song ends the crowd goes wild. They cheer “Stint With Fiction” so loud that walls shake. The band runs off the stage in excitement. Almost immediately Cole rushes to pick up Riley and spins her in the air. He sets her down, and I swear he’s gonna kiss her when one of the other band members clears their throat. They quickly pull apart both of their faces going red, and I go to hug Riley.

“That was amazing!” I yell.

“Right!?” She yells back.

“The audience loved you guys! There is no way you couldn't win!” I say excitedly.

“Although, that is a nice thought. The night is far from over Em.” She smiles brightly.

The others had already gone home. Cole and I were loading the equipment onto the van. Even though there wasn't a single other person there besides us, but I could've sworn there was someone else there.

"Where's the trophy?" Cole asked, heaving an amp into the back of the van.

"I gave it to Emma." I smiled, mentally shaking the thought away. "She deserves it."

Cole nodded. "Couldn't have done it without her."
I lifted the microphone stand and set it beside the amp. "Looks like that's the last of it."

"Great." Cole pulled the keys out of the pocket of his jacket. He unlocked the car, and slid into the driers seat. He fiddled with the ignition, trying to get the old motor to start, and I clambered into the passenger seat, turning my attention to the window. Something moved across the lot and then disappeared. A prickling sensation entered the pit of my stomach.
The car finally rumbled to life and we pulled out of the parking lot. I kept my eyes on the window. A car flicked in an out of sight in the rear-view mirror. I felt myself tense and forced myself to relax. It was a road. Cars drove on roads. Nothing out of the ordinary.

"What's got you so jumpy?"
I brought my eyes away from the window. Cole was looking at me out of the corners of his eyes, eyebrows raised. Another car pulled up beside us. I shook my head.
"Nothing. I think. Just...does something seem off to you?"
Another car, exactly the same as the other one, pulled up on our other side.He inched forward a bit. The two cars followed until we were once again matching speed. Cole glanced to both sides, then at me. He slammed his foot down on the gas and we lurched forward. The cars chased after us. The needle on the van crept up slowly. Too slowly. The other cars were barely scraping the back bumper. Cole glanced into the rear-view mirror and cursed under his breath, jerking the steering wheel. We whipped around, the tires giving an ear grating screech and sped off again, headed for a narrow sidestreet.

"Are you completely crazy?" I held up a hand before Cole could answer my question. "That was rhetorical. You're going to get us both killed!"

"I know what I'm doing."

"I'm not too convinced you do, seeing as you're driving us into an alleyway!"

As we shot into the narrow path, the mirrors were torn from the side of the doors. Cole kept his foot on the gas. A flash of sleek metal flicked on the other end of the alley, closely followed by another flash just like it.

"Cole..."

He leaned forward, intent on the road ahead. The sides of the van sparked against the walls. Engines were roaring behind us. I twisted in my seat. One of the cars had managed to followed us through. "Cole!"

We shot out on the other side just as two other cars skidded to a stop in front of us. Cole slammed on the brakes. We lurched to a stop so fast I felt the seat belt dig a red line into my skin. Two other identical vans rolled out from the roads on either side and the one behind us stopped in front of the alley. I watched them. No one got out, and the windows were tainted. The cars themselves were small. They could probably only seat four people, but there were five of them, and if all of them had four inside, we'd still be hopelessly outnumbered. Cole and I exchanged a look.

"Were you going to say something?" He raised an eyebrow.

I nodded. "We're screwed."

The cars surround us in every direction, staring us down. Although the windows are tinted, I can just feel dozens of eyes locked on us.

Riley and I stare unblinking out the windshield, breathing hard. For a few agonizing seconds, nothing happens. Then, one by one, men in black suits and sunglasses start exiting their vehicles. Some of them draw handguns from a side holster.

"Out of the car with your hands up!" One of them yells, muffled through a ski mask. We stay completely still. I can barely hear him over the pounding in my ears. Finally, he hoists his gun and yells, "Now!"

Slowly, Riley and I open our doors and slip out of the car. Slam the doors closed. Put our hands up.

Four men approach us. One of them grabs my arms and starts to pull them behind my back. The second man grabs Riley. "Hey! Don't touch her!" I yell. I break free of my captors grasp, whirl around and deck him in the face. He stumbles away, but before I can make a run for Riley, two more men grab my arms and slam me down on the hood of the car.

"Cole!" she yells. I look up just in time to see them cover her mouth with a white cloth. In seconds, her legs buckle and her eyes drift closed.

I fight against the men harder, desperately trying to get out of the grasp. I hear the familiar click of handcuffs being tightened around my wrists. Then they yank me up and shove a white cloth against my own face.

The last thing I see is two men dragging Riley, unconscious, towards the back of one of their vans. Then everything goes black.

+ + +

"Cole...? Cole?" a voice echoes from a mile away.

Slowly, a fuzzy bright light pierces the blackness. I blink. The light fades and silver metal bars come back into focus, followed by the rest of the room.

Four large metal cages line the back wall in a row, each about four feet by four feet wide. On the other side of the room is a single door and a metal table, with random papers and supplies scattered around it. The ground is concrete and the lights are long and fluorescent. Where the hell are we?

Someone shakes my foot. I lift my head to see who it is only to have pain bounce around my skull. I lay it back down and put a hand against my forehead. "Ahh... My head."

"I was the same way when I first woke up." I realize now that it's Riley's voice.

Once the pain subsides, I slowly sit up. Everything feels like it's in a haze. I see now that Riley is in the cage directly next to mine. "Where are we?"

"I don't know," she says.

"How long have you been awake?"

"Just a couple of minutes."

"Are you okay?" I ask.

"Yeah. You?"

"Never better." I crawl to the front of the cage and give the door a good shove, but it's locked with a padlock. "A padlock? Really? What do they think we are? Animals?"

Riley crawls a little closer to sit just on the other side of the bars. She gives me a serious look. "Maybe they do."

"Well, I don't think it's the Japanese. The people who took us were American," I say, plopping back down on my back.

"So now we've got two organizations after us? Fantastic..."

Suddenly, the door squeaks open and two men walk into the room. They're wearing camouflage pants, black undershirts and steel-toed boots. Hair buzzed close to their heads.

I sit up just as they make their way over to my cage and unlock it. They cuff my hands behind my back again and yank me to my feet. They lead me towards the door.

"Where are you taking me?" I ask defiantly. They don't say a word. "Where are you taking me, man?!"

I try to break free of their grasp, but one of the men shove their fist into my gut. Pain explodes from my side. I gasp for breath.

"Cole!" Riley yells. I turn to look over my shoulder. She watches me with wide eyes. "Be careful, okay?"

"I'm gonna be fine," I gasp out. "I'll be right back. I promise."

Riley nods, then the guards throw a bag over my head and force me out of the room.

+ + +

A small white room. Bright florescent lights overhead. A single metal table in the middle with two metal chairs on either side. My hands are cuffed to a bar welded into the table, forcing me to sit in a way that makes my back ache.

After what feels like an eternity, the white door opens. A man in a suit walks in with a file and a glass of water in hand. He sits down across the table from me, and slides the glass of water into my reach.

"Hello, Cole. You should drink some water. It will help the aftereffects of the chloroform wear off."

Defiantly, I slide it off the edge of the table with the back of my hand. It shatters on the pristine white floor. The water splashes the man's polished shoes. "How do you know my name?"

"I know a lot about you," the man says," but still not as much as I would like to."

I lean forward and narrow my eyes at the man. "Who are you? FBI? CIA?"

"We're not with any government. But we're not here to talk about us. We're here to talk about you."

"Why? Why me?" I ask.

The man flips the file open and slides it across the table to me. Inside are pictures of all of us. Me, Riley, Layla, Neon, Charlotte... the whole gang. Some from school, some from home... though most from the bomb site and the lake house.

A chill runs down my spine. "You've been following us? Why?"

"Because you are very important to us."

I start to grow agitated. "Why?"

"You're special," the man says simply. "You and all of your friends. You can do something that no one else in the world can do. You can turn into animals."

My stomach lurches at his words. You can turn into animals. So, he does know.

I swallow hard and hope my surprise didn't show. Finally, in a calm voice, I say, "I don't know what you're talking about."

Something like anger flickers behind the man's eyes. He's getting frustrated with me. Good.

He leans forward and slaps his hand down on the metal surface. "Stop playing games. I know you know exactly what I'm talking about."

I lean back in my chair and cross my arms over my chest.

Agitated, the man flips the file back towards himself and looks at a paper under the pictures. "Michael Anthony, lion. Charlotte Penn, Thompson's gazelle..." As the list continues, the tighter the knots in my stomach become. "...Layla Woods, cape fox. We know this because they all morphed at Silver Creek High at one time or another. Daniel Torson, martial eagle. Emma Tanner, barn owl. We learned this at the lake house."

"Congratulations. You've acquired expert stalker status," I say. "Am I supposed to give you a little trophy now? Maybe a shiny new set of binoculars?"

The man sighs and closes the file, then brings his eyes up to meet mine. "But we still don't know what you, Gwen Sanders, Neon Kingsley, Riley West or Jinx Gray can morph into."

"Oh, well... Maybe intermediate stalker status, then."

"Let's start with you," he says, clearly ignoring me.

"I'm not like them. You've got the wrong person," I lie.

The man narrows his eyes at me. "All right, then lets start with Riley. What can she morph into?"

"I'm not going to tell you guys anything until you tell me who the hell you are," I growl.

"All right. Let's start over. My name is James Harrison. I work for an organization who's biggest concern right now is to keep you and the other Animorphers safe. We have been since the night you visited the bomb site," he says.

I shake my head at him. "Why? Why do you care? How do you even know about us?"

"We'd been monitoring the laboratory for some time," Harrison tells me. "When we saw you and the others go inside, we started watching you closely. There are a lot of people out there for your heads. We want to try and prevent that."

"I don't believe you. Why should I? You chase us down, chloroform us, stick us in cages like we're animals. That's not exactly a good way to earn our trust," I spit back.

"The safest way to get you here was to knock you out, and do it in a secluded area. We brought you here to get information that will help us protect you better. And believe it or not, but you are equally as dangerous as you are valuable, and we had to bring you in in the safest way possible for everyone involved."

"I still don't believe you." I shake my head defiantly. "And I'm not going to tell you a damn thing."

+ + +

They shove me back in my cage and lock door before I can even get back my footing. I look over at Riley's cage to see that it's empty. They must be interrogating her, too. I hope. All the other scenarios that run through my head of where they could have taken her are much worse than what I just went through.

But I'm not going to wait around to find out what round two is, and Riley will have an easier chance of escaping while she's out. Especially since I now know that they don't know what either of us can turn into. We can use that.

I listen for a moment to make sure I can't hear anyone coming, then I close my eyes and slowly feel my clothes engulf my body, my arms become covered with fur... and the very odd feeling I will never get used to of growing twenty-inch long tail.

Finally, I crawl out of my band teeshirt and slip my tiny monkey body right through the silver bars of the cage. I hurry over to the door and jump up, my little hands just barely reaching the door handle. The door unlatches, and with all the strength in my little monkey arms, I pull the door open enough to slip through.

Next step, find a way to cause a distraction. We'll have an easier time escaping if everything is chaotic.

I look down the hall one way, then the other. The coast is clear, so I pick right and follow the maze of hallways until I come across a door that says "Control Room". Just then, someone opens the door and steps out, not even noticing I'm there. I slip into the room just before the door latches behind him.

Control panels everywhere. Lots of shiny buttons, levers and toggle switches. This'll be fun.

The room is empty, so I take the opportunity to jump up onto a chair, then onto one of the control panels.

One section on the panel says "Lights". One by one, I flip them all off. For a moment, everything goes pitch black, then the floodlights come on.

Near the lights is a dial that says "Electricity Wattage" and it's turned down real low. Well, that sounds important. I crank it all the way up.

Sparks fly from control boxes on the walls. That can't be good.

Finally, I find a big red button that says "Code Red". Well, if that's not chaotic enough, I don't know what is. With both monkey hands, I shove down the big button. Red lights start flashing, a siren starts blaring and the words "Code Red" come up on all the monitors.

That should do it, I think. And that's when I turn around to see two men burst through the doors, headed straight for me.

I huddled in a dark ledge just below a high window, pressing my small lynx body close to the glass. I could hear cautious footsteps creeping around the corner.
"Be careful," A voice muttered. "you know what these kids are capable of."

And that was when the lights went out. My eyes adjusted quickly to the change, but judging from the confused stumbling and shouting of "I think I got something!" and "No you don't that's me you idiot!" My pursuers weren't doing so hot.
I jumped lightly from the ledge, my paws barely making a sound on the floor, and scrambled around the next few bends in the hall before the lights came back on. After both the sound and the scent of my guards had faded, I slowed my pace and took a moment to sniff the air again. A particularly sharp scent entered my nose. It wasn't strong, but it was fresh. Cole. But the scent was different somehow, though I couldn't quite put my finger--or paw, I guess. --on what.
A loud siren wailed suddenly, hitting my ears with stinging force. I flattened them against my head and kept moving, now running at top speed down the hall, following Cole's scent. The lights started flickering off and on. The only consistent source of illumination is the throbbing red lights on the ceiling that were pulsing along with the sirens. Troops came flooding into the hall, but none of them seemed to notice me. I kept bolting down the hall, belly brushing the ground as I narrowly dodged tramping feet and weaved between legs. New scents were filtering through the air, but I kept them all at the back of my mind. Cole's scent was becoming stronger. I turned towards a door that stood ajar. A tiny monkey was sitting in a swivel chair, banging on buttons and pulling levers like a madman. It looked down at the control panel and nodded to itself, as if satisfied with its work. Probably not normal monkey behavior. A few soldiers rushed past me towards the door. They flung it open just as the monkey leapt down from the chair. The two soldiers paused for just a second, exchanged a surprised glance, and started advancing on Cole. I pounced. The first out yelped as all four of my paws hit his shoulder blades and he went tumbling to the ground. The other one yanked his gun out of its holster. I jumped out of the way the same instant he squeezes the trigger. His partner cried out as the projectile entered his shoulder. A small silver dart.

Tranquilizers? Why wouldn't they just shoot normal bullets?

The remaining gunman shot again. I scrabbled out of the way and behind the chair. I opened my mouth a little, tasting the air. His scent was coming from the roof now. I looked up. Cole was hanging from one of the metal rafters above the gunman. I shook my head vigorously. Cole nodded with the same energy. I reached out to him mentally.
Cole, if you move an inch from that spot I swear I will eat you.
He stayed.
The gunman was creeping closer, gun held rigidly in front of him. I backed up, and jumped onto the back of the chair. It Shot forward, and I dug my claws in, holding on for dear life. It rammed into the gunman with enough force to bowl him over. The gun flew from his hands and he lay there for a few moments, dazed. I could almost see the cartoon birds flapping around his head. Cole’s voice rang in my head.

Does this mean I can come down from the ceiling?

Yeah. We better get out of here before he gets back up. I pointed with my nose at a small window. Think you can fit through that?

Look at me. I'm twelve inches tall. I'm pretty sure I can fit through a window.

Great. Because I can't open the thing.

He hurried along the rafters, and dropped onto the window sill. Behind me, I heard the gunman groaned. I flicked my tail anxiously. Hurry!

Almost got it, calm down.

I left him to fiddle with the lock and crept quickly over to where the gun lay. I heard a quiet creak behind me as Cole threw the window open. Got it!
I snatched the gun up in my mouth. The gunman was stirring a little now. I bolted to the window and leapt up beside Cole. We jumped. It was a short fall, but the impact still made my paws sting. We tore down the street for a couple of blocks, until the sounds of sirens and confusion faded into silence. I skidded to a stop beside Cole, and we let ourselves return to our normal forms. The moment I turned back, my heart gave a violent spasm and my chest seemed to contract painfully. I doubled over, clutching my knees tightly.

"You alright?" I could feel Cole's eyes on me, but I didn't dare move my head until my heart started beating normally again.

"Peachy." I replied weakly. Gradually, the tightness in my chest subsided and I straightened. "See?" I grinned "I'm fine."

Whoever it was, he must have had his silencer on. I didn't hear the gunshot. I only felt the bullet tear into my stomach. The copper taste of blood flooding my mouth. My vision flashed briefly to pure white and when it returned I was on the ground. Cole was kneeling next to me. He was speaking. I could see his lips moving, but I couldn't make out any words. The only thing that seemed to really exist was the pain. A sort of black mist started to crowd my vision. Cole leaned over me suddenly, holding onto me tightly. I felt him jerk forward slightly and he squeezed his eyes shut. Something wet was soaking through his shirt. I felt it against my cheek. The dark surged in until all I could see was a tiny pinprick of white light. His voice was echoing in my mind again.
I'm going to have to move you, Riley. It might hurt a bit...just hang on, okay?
White hot pain raced through my body again, and the pinprick of light went out.