ANIMORPHS The Unknown
Converted to E-Book by:
Kamal Raniga
Chapter 1
My name is Cassie.
I can't tell you my last name. The Yeerk danger is too great. There are days when it feels like a noose slowly tightening around my neck. There are days when I don't feel like I can trust anyone. But as long as they don't know for sure who I am, maybe my friends and I can stay alive.
Maybe.
Kind of dramatic-sounding, right? I sound like maybe I'm paranoid or nuts, don't I? Well, trust me, I'm not being overdramatic. I'm probably the least dramatic person you'll ever meet. And I'm not one of those crazy conspiracy people or anything. Really.
I'm just an average girl. I'm not some supermodel or rock star or whatever. I'm short. Okay- looking, but definitely not beautiful. I'm more stocky and solid than tall and willowy. If you want tall and willowy, you'll have to meet my best friend, Rachel.
But that's not me. I'm a short girl with short black hair and no makeup and a wardrobe that runs the gamut from jeans all the way to overalls. I own two pairs of boots. Both are currently covered with mud and various kinds of animal poop. I also have a couple of nice pairs of rubber gloves.
You don't even want to know what's all over them.
See, I work with animals a lot. I help my dad, who's a veterinarian. He runs the Wildlife Rehabilitation Clinic, which is actually just our barn. He takes in all kinds of injured wildlife and sets their broken legs, and heals their mange, and soothes their burns, and disinfects their bites.
I help him out after school and on weekends. Mostly I do things like give the animals their "meds" —that's medications. I wash the animals and their cages, and feed them, and change dressings, and help my dad out in surgery. He's teaching me how to suture. You know — how to make stitches after you perform surgery.
Cool, huh? At least, to me it is. But in any case, now you know why I own poopy boots and gross gloves and several pairs of torn, stained jeans.
What can I say? I will not be appearing on the cover of Seventeen.
On the other hand, Rachel is my best friend, and Rachel is without a doubt the coolest person I will ever know. And Jake likes me — as in likes —and he's the smartest, strongest, most balanced person I've ever met. Except maybe for my parents, who are cool but in a parental way.
So anyway, I guess the lack of a decent wardrobe hasn't set me back too much. One way you can judge a person is by looking at their friends . . .
and their enemies. I have wonderful friends.
And terrible enemies.
I have the kind of enemies that no normal, short, fashion-impaired animal nut should have.
Earth is being invaded. It is being invaded by a species of intelligent parasites called Yeerks. In their normal state they're just these grayish slugs. Like big fat snails without their shells. But the Yeerks have the ability to enter the brain of another animal, wrap themselves around the brain, sink into all the little cracks and crevices, and utterly take over.
The Yeerks have already enslaved the entire Hork-Bajir race. They've made allies of the vile Taxxons. And now they are after us.
They're here. They're all around you. You just don't know it. They can be anyone. You think you know your friends? Your teachers? Even your parents? Maybe you do.
But maybe you don't. Because any of them might have a Yeerk living inside their head. Any one of them might be a Controller.
That's what we call a person who is enslaved by a Yeerk. A Controller. A human-Controller, which is a human who is completely enslaved by the Yeerk in his or her head.
I mentioned Jake earlier. His brother, Tom, is on: of them. At school, our assistant principal, Chapman, is one of them.
And who is fighting to stop this invisible, secret Yeerk invasion? Just a bunch of kids. Jake, Rachel, Marco, Tobias, an alien kid named Ax, and yours truly.
Nowyou're worried. You're thinking, Earth is being invaded by evil slugs from outer space and all we have on our side is a bunch of kids?
Well, we're not exactly just abunch of kids. We have certain abilities.
See, we learned about the Yeerks from the dying Andalite prince, Elfangor. He gave us the Andalite morphing technology. It allows us to become any animal we can touch.
I've been a wolf and an osprey and a fly. I've been more than a dozen animals. I've been through terrible dangers, and awful, violent battles.
But I'm still alive. Still just Cassie.
And I still don't care about clothes. Which just drives Rachel nuts, even after all these years.
Rachel was standing there in the barn, just staring at me.
"Cassie, I'm just saying, look, wear jeans if you want. Wear overalls.
Wear crusty rubber boots. I can accept all that. But you could at least buy jeans that fit."
"These fit fine," I protested.
"Cassie, you know I love you. You know you're my best friend in the whole world. But those jeans are so short you could wade across the Mississippi and not get them wet. When did you buy them? When you were four?"
I looked down at my jeans. They did happen to end about an inch above the tops of my boots. I grinned at Rachel. She gets so distressed about things like that. There was a look of actual pain on her face. Like the mere existence of jeans this short was agonizing. "You're saying these are too short?"
"Not if there's a flood coming," Rachel said. "If you're expecting a flood, those would be the exact jeans to wear. Just come with me. I'm going to ... the place. They're having lots of sales. I want you to come with me."
I narrowed my eyes. I knew what "the place" was. "I'm not going to the mall with you," I said.
"Who's going to the mall?" a voice asked.
It was my dad. He'd just opened the side door of the barn.
"Rachel is going to the mall," I told him.
"Please make her go with me," Rachel begged my father.
He laughed. "Nope. Sorry, Rachel. I need Cassie. Crazy Helen called and we have a sick horse way out on the edge of the Dry Lands."
Rachel looked down at my father's own jeans. They ended about six inches above his shoes, revealing socks that didn't exactly match.
"Gee, I wonder where Cassie gets it from?" Rachel said dryly.
I made a helpless shrug for Rachel. "Darn. Now I can't drag behind you for three hours while you power-shop and guys drool all over you. Oh, what a pity. Oh, life is so cruel."
Rachel made a face at me, then laughed. "Hey, a sick horse is far more important than buying jeans that go all the way down."
"Come with us," I said to Rachel. I like my dad and all, I really do, but a two-hour drive with just him and his old Stevie Wonder CD's was not going to be fun.
"Yeah, right," Rachel said.
I said, "Come with us, and tomorrow I'll let you pick out a new pair of jeans for me."
"Realjeans? Not some pair of blue card- board-looking bargain jeans?" Rachel bit her lip, and got a misty look in her eyes. "Of course, you'll need a nice top to go with them. . . ."