Page 4 of The Unexpected


  Ka-lunk.

  I heard the first Hork-Bajir leap in the cargo hold. Its tyrannosaur claws clicked across the metal.

  Ka-lunk.

  A second Hork-Bajir. Then —

  Thump.

  Another sound. Softer. Something else had landed in the cargo hold, something besides a Hork-Bajir.

  I’d reached the top of the ladder. I pushed on the ceiling hatch. It didn’t budge! I jerked the lever. It was unlatched, but it wouldn’t open.

  A voice, a woman’s voice, coming from the cargo hold: “The Andalite could still be on board. Search every inch!”

  A human-Controller. That softer sound had been a human-Controller leaping onto the plane.

  I pushed on the hatch again, quietly, firmly. It inched up. I could see a sliver of light. But the panel was heavy. Something was on top of it, holding it down.

  The woman’s voice again: “We’re showing a slight movement on the sensors. Keep searching.”

  Sensors?

  I glanced around. The control room was wide open. No place to hide. I had to get up into the cabin! Get up, hide, and stop moving. I hooked my elbow around the top rung of the ladder, braced my feet, and gave the hatch a shove, using my legs for leverage.

  The panel inched up. I wedged my shoulder against it and pushed. Another inch. Up. More light. Then it broke free. I lunged through the hole. The panel fell to the side with a thud.

  CLANGGGKK-CRUNNNNCH.

  A crash of dishes and metal.

  “The Andalite!”

  I bolted up through the opening. I was in an aisle, directly under the feet of a flight attendant who’d been paralyzed while serving coffee. Her beverage cart must have been parked on top of the hatch. It had crashed into a passenger and was now tipped sideways, two wheels still spinning in the air.

  “Upward movement! The sensors show upward movement. To the front of the hold. NOW!”

  I leaped to my feet.

  “GO!”

  “ANDALITE HAUT!”

  I could hear the Hork-Bajir below, ripping through the canvas. They were too big to fit through the opening, but they were armed.

  Tsssseeeeeeewwwww! Tsssseeeeeeewwwww!

  Dracon beams seared through the hatch.

  I grabbed a pot from the flight attendant’s hand and poured still-scalding coffee down the hole.

  “AHHHHHHH!”

  I raced down the aisle.

  Tssssssseeeeeeewwwww!

  A Dracon beam exploded into the cabin behind me.

  I had to hide. And stay still. Any movement would give me away. I could morph something small — squirrel, skunk, bat — but I had to find a place to hide! Where?

  Not the bathroom. They’d definitely check this time. Not the baggage compartments or the cockpit. There had to be someplace! I whirled. A plane full of passengers stared at me with unmoving eyes.

  The passengers. Yes! I could pretend to be one of the frozen passengers. Hide in plain sight.

  I dove toward an empty seat.

  Oh, yeah, that’d work. A barefoot girl in a leotard and a cardigan. Blended right in.

  Tsssseeeeeeewwwww! Tsssseeeeeeewwwww!

  Dracon beams blasted through the floor, widening the opening.

  Cccccrrrreeeeeeeeeaaaaaaankkkk.

  Metal ripped.

  I grabbed an airplane blanket off the guy in the next row and threw it over my body.

  Tssssssseeeeeeewwwww!

  A Hork-Bajir burst into the cabin.

  A second Hork-Bajir followed, and then a woman, the human-Controller, in running shoes and a warm-up suit.

  “The movement has stopped.”

  She looked like a gym teacher. A gym teacher carrying a big-game rifle under one arm. In her other hand she held something that looked like a Game Boy.

  I kept my eyes forward, unblinking.

  The gym teacher studied the gadget in her hand. “Not even a blip. Our clever Andalite is hiding.” She swung around to face the Hork-Bajir. “FIND IT.”

  The jetliner had two aisles and three banks of seats. The Hork-Bajir each took an aisle. Started to rip open baggage compartments, fire Dracon beams under the seats.

  “Stop shooting, you idiots!” The gym teacher swung her rifle toward the Hork-Bajir. “You’ll kill us all! Besides, our orders are to bring the Andalite back alive. Damaged, perhaps. But still breathing. If it dies” — she cocked the rifle — “you die.”

  I tensed. I couldn’t let them find me. No matter what happened, they couldn’t take me alive. Tobias had been captured, and I knew some of the horror he’d faced. The physical torture, the mind games, the hallucinations.

  He didn’t talk about it much. Tobias was strong. Tough. Hardened by his time as a hawk.

  But they’d almost broken him.

  If the Yeerks could do that to Tobias, what chance would I have? How could I keep our secrets? If they captured me, my friends would be toast. Sure, in some weird way maybe I’m the biggest risk taker, bigger even than Rachel. But torture?

  I fixed my eyes on the seat in front of me. Was aware of the Hork-Bajir ripping down the aisle again. Ransacking overhead bins and shoving frozen legs aside to search under the seats. I counted the rows between him and me: four.

  Three.

  Two.

  Didn’t breathe.

  The Hork-Bajir shoved his Dracon beam under the seat in front of me and swung it from side to side. He pulled out a woman’s purse and two carry-on bags. Dumped them in the aisle.

  “NOTHING.”

  I nearly choked on my own spit.

  Seven feet of bladed nightmare towered above me, so close I could feel the warmth of his skin, his rank breath puffing down on my face.

  My skin prickled. Goose bumps. I prayed the Hork-Bajir didn’t see.

  Slaaamm!

  He threw open the luggage compartment over my head. Tore through the bags, then bent down to check under my seat. He gave my legs a shove. I toppled over onto the chunky guy next to me. My blanket started to slide. One bare foot slipped out.

  The Hork-Bajir didn’t notice.

  He tossed the carry-on bags into the aisle. Snorted and straightened to his full height. His elbow blade sliced past, an inch from my ear. Then he turned to the row behind me.

  The breath I’d been holding slid from my lungs.

  But I couldn’t relax, not even a little. The human-Controller still stood at the front of the cabin, watching, waiting.

  My eyeballs burned. I needed to blink.

  I heard a door bang behind me. A toilet lid slammed.

  “Andalite not here.”

  “Fine. We’ll check up front.” The human-Controller glanced once more at the passengers, then turned toward the cockpit door.

  The Hork-Bajir charged past me up the aisle.

  I allowed myself to breathe. And swallow. Once they entered the cockpit, I would escape. Somehow.

  The human-Controller slid the door open and started to step through. Then she stopped and turned, slowly, her eyes narrowed.

  I froze.

  “The Andalite bandit could be under our very noses.” She gazed from passenger to passenger. “Set your beams on low and see if anybody jumps. Remember — capture, don’t kill.”

  She stepped into the cockpit. The two Hork-Bajir adjusted their Dracon beams then each started down an aisle.

  Tsseew.

  The Hork-Bajir in my aisle zapped a businessman in the front row. The businessman didn’t move.

  Tsseew.

  The woman next to him.

  No reaction.

  The Hork-Bajir worked his way toward the back of the plane, blasting each passenger’s arm.

  Tsseew! Tsseew!

  The stench of charred flesh burned my nostrils.

  The passengers sat motionless. They couldn’t feel the jolt. The burn. The pain that knifed through their bodies.

  But I would.

  I’d been blasted by Dracon beams before. I would feel the pain, and I would react. No matter how hard I trie
d, how much I steeled myself, I would react.

  I could keep myself from screaming. Maybe. But the slightest flinch would give me away. A blink, a jerk, even a quick breath.

  The Hork-Bajir moved toward me, passenger by passenger, row by row.

  I was trapped.

  I swallowed my panic and tried to think. It was too late to morph. The Hork-Bajir would see the movement. He’d be on me in one leap.

  I watched.

  The Hork-Bajir in the other aisle worked fast. He was about three rows ahead of my Hork-Bajir. I could see him out of the corner of my eye, working on the aisle directly across from me. He fired, watched for a reaction, then moved on. He was behind me now, out of view.

  The Hork-Bajir in my aisle moved closer. Leaned over the row in front of me and fired.

  Tsseew!

  He watched.

  Tsseew!

  He waited.

  Tsseew!

  Nothing.

  He turned to my row.

  I froze. I had a chance. One chance. But I had to time my moves perfectly.

  The Hork-Bajir leaned over me. His elbow blade whipped past my face. He aimed his Dracon beam at the guy next to the window.

  I raised my hand behind him, slowly, steadily, holding my eyes straight ahead, the rest of my body motionless.

  Tsseew!

  As the Hork-Bajir fired, I pushed my hand against his back.

  He jerked at the touch, then slumped forward, as lifeless as the passengers around us.

  I was acquiring him, absorbing his DNA, and he had fallen into the acquiring trance. He wouldn’t stay that way long, but if I were quick and quiet, it might be long enough for me to escape.

  The Hork-Bajir swayed. I saw his hand relax, saw the Dracon beam balanced on his fingertips. I reached for it.

  Too late!

  The Dracon clattered to the floor.

  “ANDALITE!” the other Hork-Bajir shouted.

  I dove.

  TSEEEEEEEEEWWWWWWWW!

  The Hork-Bajir above me exploded into nothing.

  I inched backward on my belly.

  TSEEEEEEEEEWWWWWWWW!

  The blast incinerated the seat beside me.

  I’d landed on the other Dracon beam, and now I grabbed it.

  Ka-lump.

  The Hork-Bajir leaped over the frozen passengers in the middle seats. His claws dug into the carpet less than a foot from my face.

  I aimed.

  TSEEEEEEEEEWWWWWWWW!

  The Hork-Bajir vaporized in a cloud of black smoke.

  I stared at the Dracon beam in horror. I’d only meant to stun him! The weapon must have knocked to full power when it hit the floor.

  I leaped to my feet. Not the time. Had to get away! I raced toward the front of the plane, sideswiping the overturned coffee cart and hurdling the hole in the floor. I couldn’t go back down through the hatch. I’d be trapped. The Bug fighter pilot would see me trying to escape through the cargo door.

  There was only one way out, and I had to reach it before —

  “What’s going on out here?” The human-Controller stepped from the cockpit. “Did you find the —”

  I stopped dead.

  She stopped dead.

  I glanced toward the passenger door. It was halfway between us.

  “How very clever.” The Controller raised her rifle. “Morphing a child to throw off suspicion.” She aimed. “It almost worked.”

  I was still holding the Dracon beam. It would get me out the door. Easy. I gripped the handle and slid my finger onto the trigger.

  But it was on full power. One blast would eliminate her from the planet.

  I couldn’t pull the trigger.

  I had to distract her.

  “You can’t shoot me,” I said.

  “Oh?” she laughed. “Watch me.”

  I swallowed. “Okay, maybe you’re right. Visser Three wanted the Andalite bandit taken alive, but if you explain to him how a simple airplane search spun out of control, forcing you to kill me, I’m sure he’d understand.” I shot a glance at the door handle, then at the rifle leveled at my head. “He’s an extremely nice person.”

  The human-Controller hesitated.

  It was all I needed. I lunged, wrenched the door handle, and pushed. It swung open easily. No suction. The tractor beams were keeping the plane pressurized.

  Still clutching the Dracon beam, I dove into space.

  “Aaaaaaaahhhhhh!”

  Flying is incredible. Riding the thermals, feeling the lift beneath your wings, soaring through the endless blue of the sky.

  “Aaaaaaaahhhhhh!”

  Falling headfirst from two miles up, with no wings and nothing resembling a parachute — not as fun.

  Two Bug fighters hovered on either side of the plane, their pressurizing beams trained directly on the fuselage. I dove straight down between them.

  One Bug fighter faced away from me. The other was partially hidden from view by the plane. The pilots didn’t see me blow past.

  Wind pummeled my face and drove the Dracon beam into my chest. I gripped the weapon in one hand and held my arms and legs out, spread-eagle style, to slow the dive. My cardigan billowed out above me.

  I had to morph! Something fast. With wings.

  Osprey.

  I concentrated on the bird’s form. Caught a movement out of the corner of my eye. Using my hands and feet as rudders, I angled around for a better view.

  It was a Bug fighter, the one that had been hovering outside the cargo door. It pulled away from the plane, swung around, and dove. The Taxxon pilot’s hideous body bulged against the windshield as the spacecraft bore down on me.

  I judged the distance between him and me and between me and the solid earth that was rushing up toward us. I could finish the morph and dive, maybe losing him near the ground.

  But he’d see me. He’d see me morph directly to osprey, and he’d know I was human.

  That little news flash would probably get him promoted to Visser Four.

  And get my friends sentenced to death.

  I shuddered. Those were my choices: Die. Or kill my friends.

  Or —

  There was another way to eliminate the problem. I slid my finger onto the Dracon beam’s trigger. And that was to … eliminate the problem. I pulled my hands together above my head, gripped the weapon, and aimed.

  TSEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEW!

  The windshield shattered. The Taxxon burst like a melon, spewing its guts across the sky. The Bug fighter spiraled out of control, a flaming missile spinning toward Earth.

  Ka-PLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSH.

  It exploded. The blast ripped the Dracon beam from my fingers and knocked me upward and back in a shower of glass and metal.

  I was spinning now, end over end. Sky. Clouds. Earth. Clouds fading away. Earth looming larger. Had to get control! Fast.

  I closed my eyes and focused. Wings, talons, feathers. But mostly wings. Please give me wings.

  Bones popped and crunched. My shoulders wrenched back. Legs jerked forward.

  Sploooot! My nose and mouth shot out, the skin hardening into a beak.

  I felt the cardigan puff up around me. I flapped to be free of it.

  Flapped. Yes! I opened my eyes. The cardigan whipped from my shrinking body. I had wings. Or the beginnings of wings. A pattern of lines appeared on my skin, like a tattoo that swept across my body then burst into full-fledged feathers. Osprey feathers.

  My wings lifted. I rose on a pocket of warm air only a few feet above the sparse brush below. Floated for a moment to gain my bearings, then spilled the air from my wings and swooped toward Earth.

  The ground was red and barren and endless. I soared low over the scrub, looking for landmarks. A town. A road sign. Even a road. Something to give me clue where I was.

  Pffffffffffmmmmpp.

  An orange flash.

  A wave of fear swept through my bird body.

  Shuh-ROOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMFF.

  The sound of a jet, above and behind me.
br />
  I circled. The plane roared away from me across the sky. The single Bug fighter remained, hovering. My osprey eyes could see the gym teacher crammed in beside the Taxxon pilot. She waved her arms and pointed. Down. At me.

  I whirled and shot along the ground, weaving in and out between scraggly bushes.

  The shadow slid over me.

  TSSSSSSSEEEEEEEW!

  I wheeled. There had to be someplace to hide. Something in this barren desert that would shield me.

  TSSSSSSSEEEEEEEW.

  Red dirt exploded around me.

  I swerved. I could feel the strength drain from my wings. My osprey body was built to glide and soar, and the endless pumping so close to the ground was wearing me down.

  I skimmed low, over a clump of grass, under a bush, around a scrawny tree —

  — and out into space.

  I banked. It was a ravine, narrow and deep, a dry creek bed gouged into the flat red earth. I flew in close to the wall of the creek bed, darting along under an overhanging of rocks and scrub.

  A shadow darkened the ravine, then disappeared.

  TSSSSSSSEEEEEEEW!

  An explosion, further up the creek bed.

  I pushed my wings forward. Lowered my talons. Landed on a rocky outcrop.

  The shadow passed again, slipping over me in the opposite direction.

  TSSSSSSSEEEEEEEW!

  A blast in the distance. They’d lost me.

  The wall of the ravine was pitted with small hollows. I chose a deeper one and demorphed.

  I crouched in the hollow and took a deep breath. Human again, but not for long. I could hear the Bug fighter blowing craters across the desert. But my mind focused on something else. I closed my tired eyes and concentrated.

  Elbows and hips scraped against rocks as I shrank to a microscopic dot. My body flattened. Bones dissolved. An extra pair of legs sprouted from my armor-plated body. Piercing tubes shot from my mouth.

  I was a wingless, bloodsucking parasite, blind and ravenous.

  A flea.

  I burrowed into the sand and waited.

  The ground trembled. Another Dracon blast.

  And another.

  I couldn’t hear them. Fleas don’t have ears. But I sensed each tremor with every molecule of my body. Grains of sand the size of garbage trucks shifted around me.