Simple equation: two crocodiles of equal size
stalking the same prey. I either had to fight the other croc, or lunge for the prey before the enemy could act, or back away.
I spun left, fast as a snake!
I opened my jaws so wide that my own snout hid part of the prey from view. In a second I would close my jaws on that squirming, moaning little boy and . . .
Sudden movement! I was being attacked!
The big crocodile rushed at me with amazing speed. I whipped my tail and turned to meet him. The momentum carried me off the sandbar into the water. Water! Now we could really move!
The other crocodile dived, trying to get below me to rip open my soft underbelly. I squirmed and rolled. A tail lashed through the murky water. I snapped.
Yes! My jaws closed on something and squeezed.
Then, pain! A sudden searing pain in my left hind leg. There was blood in the water. The other croc had my leg. I had his tail. We churned the water to foam, rolling and tightening our jaws.
Slowly, slowly, like I was climbing up out of a well, I felt my own mind, the mind of Rachel, start to emerge again.
I was too stunned and exhausted by the battle to resist the crocodile's cunning. It had the
power of total focus. It had the power of utter simplicity. It killed, it ate, and it didn't care about anything else.
We rolled insanely in the shallow water, two genetically identical crocodiles fighting a battle for dominance. Fighting to see whose mighty jaws would close on the human child.
I saw flashes of horrified onlookers up above. I saw flashes of the child starting to crawl away. I saw flashes of the other crocodiles, slithering toward the water. They hoped to take the child while the two bigger crocs were busy fighting.
I needed to win this fight to stay alive. And I needed to do it quickly to save the little boy.
I did the thing the crocodile couldn't do very well. I thought. I used my intelligence.
I let go of the tail at the same second I pulled my hind leg forward with all my strength. It was a slingshot effect. The enemy crocodile shot backward, I saw his pale belly go by, and I struck hard and fast.
He rolled away, defeated. I slewed to my right, cutting off the crocodiles who were heading for the boy. Then I raced for the sand and motored up into the alcove, out of sight of the crowd above. The boy backed away in terror.
I had no choice. I had to take a chance. I spoke to the little boy in thought-speak.
"Hey, kid! I'm the good crocodile, all right? Climb on my back!"
Fortunately, he was a cool little kid. Small enough not to question the fact that a crocodile was talking to him.
He climbed on my back like I was a pony. I slithered to the water and carried him across to the pile of fake rocks where he could climb to safety. Crocodiles can do lots of things, but they can't climb.
I raced back to the alcove and morphed back to human just as half a dozen zoo trainers armed with tranquilizer dart rifles and nets came rushing in.
The kid was safe. I was safe. Even the big croc was okay after some surgery.
So, all in all, it turned out to be a pretty cool field trip. And we never did have to hear Cassie's mom give her presentation.
?I see," Jake said. "So basically you're saying it was no big deal. You jump into an alligator pit, you -"
"Crocodile, not alligator," Cassie corrected him.
Jake cocked one eyebrow at Cassie and she fell silent.
"You jump into a crocodile pit, morph into a crocodile, engage in a battle to see who's going to eat the kid, end up carrying the kid on your back, and your feeling is this was all pretty cool?"
I shrugged and looked to Cassie for support.
"She d/c/save the kid," Cassie pointed out.
"She also came very, very close to showing the
entire world what she really is," Jake said, using the low, silky voice he uses when he's really upset.
After saving the kid, you'd think my friends would have welcomed me as a hero, right? Wrong.
Here's the scene. Me, Cassie, Jake, Marco, Tobias, and Ax were all in Cassie's barn, which is also the Wildlife Rehabilitation Clinic. So picture cages everywhere, stuffed with every kind of injured, sick, messed-up raccoon, squirrel, duck, wild pig, bat, skunk, fox, eagle, and deer.
Jake was pacing back and forth, which he also does when he's upset. Jake isn't a yelling kind of person when he's mad. He's a grinding-his-teeth, pacing, and talking-in-a-low-silky-voice kind of person.
Jake is in charge, more or less. No one exactly elected him, but if we ever did vote on it he'd get all the votes - except his own. There was just never any question who was going to be the leader. Probably because we all know Jake isn't the kind of person who really wants to be a boss.
He does it because someone has to, not because it makes him feel important.
I would probably think Jake was good-looking. Except that he's my cousin. But of course Cassie thinks he's perfect. Cassie and Jake have a little thing going. Neither of them admits it, of course. And they never really say anything to each other
about it. They think no one else knows. But they have a definite thing. Trust me.
Anyway, lounging on a big bale of hay was Marco. Marco is Jake's best friend. Marco is not the leadership type. He's very smart but unfortunately, he uses all his brain to make stupid jokes.
Okay, maybe not all his brain. If he used all his brain to make jokes, the jokes would probably be better.
Marco is cute, although not as cute as he thinks he is. See, it would be impossible for anyone to be as cute as Marco thinks he is. Marco's ego is totally out of control.
Then, there is Tobias. He was up in the rafters overhead, carefully combing his feathers with his beak.
Tobias is what the Andalites call a nothlit. That means a person who is trapped in a morph. There's a two-hour time limit on morphing. Stay more than two hours and you stay forever.