The next passage, p.1
The Next Passage, page 1
We’d like to thank Emily Costello for her help in preparing this manuscript.
For Michael and Jake
Contents
TITLE PAGE
DEDICATION
INTRODUCTION
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
SNEAK PEEK
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
COPYRIGHT
My name is Rachel.
Who am I?
Just a kid. A kid with divorced parents and two little sisters. I go to school, do my homework, hang out with my friends. If you saw me I bet you wouldn’t look twice. Just another suburban mall rat.
Nothing special.
Funny how that sounds like an insult.
I bet you hate being ordinary. I bet you long for something to make you feel different and special. You’re probably just waiting for something exciting to happen to you.
Be careful what you wish for.
One night something exciting did happen to me. I was given a weapon. A wonderful and awful weapon. The ability to morph, to change from an average kid into an animal. Into a bird or insect.
Only five human beings possess this weapon. Me; Cassie, my best friend; Jake, my cousin and our leader; Marco, our own personal clown; and Tobias, our lost soul. Five humans unique in all the universe. Guess that makes us pretty special.
But along with the power to morph came a mission: Save the world. I’m not kidding. This is no joke.
See, Earth is being invaded by the Yeerks, aliens with weak, repulsive bodies. Slugs. Parasites.
The Yeerks want our human bodies. Our strong legs and hands. Our sensitive ears, mouths, and eyes. They are taking over human hosts, entering their brains, controlling them, rendering them utterly helpless.
So we fight. The five of us humans and Ax, an alien kid. An Andalite. The Andalites battle the Yeerks throughout the galaxy. A war on too many fronts. One day the Andalites may send reinforcements to Earth. Until then, we fight alone.
Each battle changes us. Transforms us on the inside as much as on the outside.
War is not a video game. In a real war, you make desperate decisions and deal with desperate consequences. You spill blood and your blood gets spilled. You brush up against death. You change. You’re warped until ever being average and ordinary again is an impossible dream.
What would you do if you were given the chance to be different, unique, extraordinary? If someone offered you the ability to morph, would you take it? And if you did take it, how long do you think you would survive?
This is your chance to find out.
But I’m warning you. Think about it first. Think deeply. Ask yourself: Can you handle it?
The new kid.
You know the part.
Played it half a dozen times.
Your first day at a new school, the kids give you curious glances. A few say hi. Most don’t. A concerned teacher assigns some suck-up to show you around. Help you find the cafeteria and the bathrooms.
The only kids paying attention to you are the ones you wish would leave you alone. Losers. Too friendly types. The normal ones are too busy with their lives to worry about some new kid.
Lunch. You eat it alone at the corner of some cafeteria table.
You can’t wait to get out of there. To get off somewhere by yourself and blow off some steam. The final bell is salvation. You head out on foot, exploring your new town.
Not so different from the last one. Dunkin’ Donuts. Burger King. Wal-Mart. Home Depot. A mall with the usual stuff inside: Mrs. Fields, The Gap, Express.
You don’t want to go in there. Don’t want to face another crowd of strange faces. Instead you dodge traffic and head into an abandoned construction site.
On one end, a highway. Bands of trees on either side. On the far end, a broad field. A deserted place. A ghost town. A great place to be alone.
You kick around for ten minutes. Exploring. Checking out the big piles of rusted steel beams. Pyramids of concrete pipes. Deep pits filled with black, muddy water. A pile of gravel. Rocks the size of a Reese’s cup.
You pick one up and let fly.
THWONK!
The rock hits the concrete block with a satisfying noise. After a couple dozen throws your aim even starts to improve.
THWONK!
THWONK!
THWONK!
You land three rocks in a row right on the same spot in the concrete. When the third hits, the concrete crumbles. Weird. That stuff is usually pretty strong.
Whatever. Time to head home. Dinner with Mom and Dad. Homework. Then the same grind tomorrow.
Maybe tomorrow someone will talk to you.
You’re heading out of the lot when you see it. A small box nestled down inside the concrete block that fell apart. Sky-blue. Very plain. Small. Maybe five inches to each side.
Something about it draws you closer.
You glance over your shoulder before you yank it out of the block. The box feels heavy for its size. You feel something when you pick it up. Something like an electric charge. Only it’s not painful.
You hold the thing up to the fading light. There’s writing on it. Not English or any language you recognize. Maybe it’s Greek or Egyptian.
You slip the box into your book bag. The thing looks valuable. You wonder how much you can get for it on the Internet. As soon as you get home, before dinner even, you post a few messages.
The blue box is available to the highest bidder.
Day Two at the new school.
Some guy named Marco insists on eating lunch with you. Not much better than eating alone.
You can’t wait to get home. That morning, there was already an answer to the “for sale” notices you posted on the Internet. A guy says he wants to see the box. Says he’ll pay good money.
You wrote him an E-mail. Set the timer on the computer so that he’d get your address right before you got home.
Last period. You rush out of the building. Get home early and do your business.
One problem: You’re in the door about two seconds when you know something is wrong. Your dad is home early. You can hear him talking to someone upstairs. And it doesn’t sound good.
You take the stairs two at a time. Bound into your room. Your dad is standing feet wide, pointing his service revolver at —
Something.
Something about the size of a retriever with eight stumpy legs, blue-and-tan fur, a scorpion tail, and two arms. The thing is alive. Growing and changing right before your eyes.
“Whoa!” you say.
“Some kind of alien,” your father explains.
“An alien, no way!”
You freeze, amazed. The voice is coming from inside your head! What’s even weirder: It sounds vaguely familiar.
“Hide? Why do we have to hide?!” you demand.
Dingdong!
The doorbell is ringing.
Your father doesn’t flinch. He’s military trained. He still has the gun on the — the thing. It has stopped growing and changing. Now it resembles a blue-and-tan deer with a wicked scorpion tail. That tail is definitely a weapon.
Idiotically, you’re wondering if the door is for you. Could be the buyer for the blue box. Then —
BLAM! BLAM!
Your father is shooting! At what?
Fwapp!
The alien swings his tail! The gun goes flying. So does one of your father’s fingers.
“Hey!” you cry.
“Ahhh!” your father yells.
CRRRRUNCH!
Downstairs the door explodes in splinters. There is a severe, house-shaking pounding as many large feet run up the stairs.
Your knees are rubber. Your bowels jelly.
You and your father stare as two creatures leap into the room.
They have feet like a T-rex. Necks like snakes. Large birdlike beaks. Three daggerlike horns protruding out of their foreheads. Bent-back legs and very long arms. A curved horn blade on each wrist and elbow. More blades poking out of knees and off the ends of tails. They remind you of the monsters from Where the Wild Things Are.
“Uh. Wh-what are they?”
says the voice in your head.
The Wild Things are joined by another blue-deer alien. Something about him sends a chill up your spine. Somehow you know he is dangerous.
“Get out of here!” you yell.
“Y-y-you want to b-b-buy the blue box?” you stammer.
You’re confused. You just assumed all of the blue-deer aliens were working together.
Sudden movement!
Your father jerks his head back, away from the alien’s tail blade.
You run straight at the alien, yelling, “Let him go!”
FWAPP!
FWAPP!
The two deer-aliens are fighting with their tails. The Wild Things move forward. Blades flash.
Your posters fly, your curtains tear, your books scatter.
BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!
Your father is in the corner, firing his gun with his left hand. He usually can’t even hold a fork in that hand. But three circles appear in a Wild Thing’s chest. Down he goes.
Then —
“Hhhhrrroooarrrhh!” A throaty roar.
You turn to look.
An enormous grizzly bear is coming through your bedroom door! And behind the bear is a huge orange-and-black tiger.
You’re crying and laughing all at once. This is insane! You wonder if you’re going nuts.
Suddenly you gag. Heave. You’re going to be sick. Maybe it’s fear. But you’re definitely freaking out. You turn your back on the wild, insane violence and run for the toilet.
You’re just kneeling down on the tile when —
CRASH!
One of the Wild Things comes through the wall like a load of bricks. He leaps up, shakes himself off, and hops through the wall to rejoin the fight.
Forget throwing up. Time to listen to the voice in your head and hide. You climb into the bathtub and cower. The wall between the bathroom and bedroom is reduced to smashed two-by-fours and torn Sheetrock. You can see glimpses of the battle raging in your bedroom.
Your father crawls in. He wedges himself between the tub and the toilet. He follows the action in the next room, wildly pointing his gun here, there.
One of the deer-aliens begin to change. His skin and fur turn purple. His shoulders bulk out. Two legs shrivel and disappear. The others grow bigger and stronger. Four arms sprout, two from each shoulder. The arms are wrinkly down in the place where the hands should be. And instead of hands there are bony red points.
FwooooooOOOMPH!
The wrinkled skin at the bottom of the arm zooms right out like a rocket! The cone hits the remaining deer-alien and knocks him to his knees. Instantly, the cone hand retracts and wrinkles up, ready to fire again.
You scramble to your feet. The box is in your backpack. “Fine!” you shout. “I’ll give you the box. Just leave us alone!”
What do you do? If you turn over the box, go to chapter 4. If you refuse, go to chapter 5.
You ignore the pleading voice in your head. You whip the blue box out of your backpack. “Here!” you say, trying to be brave. “Take it.”
One of the Wild Things yanks the box out of your hand.
“Now leave!” you shout.
Another Wild Thing grabs you, practically yanking your arm out of the socket. Roughly pulls you toward the door. You make yourself heavy, try to resist. But the Wild Thing just picks you up like a sack of flour. It’s like trying to fight with a polar bear.
“No! Let me go or I’ll kill you!” It’s your father. He’s being dragged down the stairs behind you. A Wild Thing on each side, picking him up under the arms.
Through the living room and out into the kitchen. Out the back door and straight into the back of a moving van.
The Wild Things toss you down in the back of the van. Your father lands next to you.
Then —
Screaming outside. Your mother! When did she get home? She’s crying and begging to be set free. A Wild Thing drags her inside, tosses her down next to your father.
She looks wild, terrified. “What’s happening?!”
“We’ve all lost our minds,” your father answers.
“What happened to your hand?” Your mother starts to wrap your father’s wound with a piece of cloth she ripped from the bottom of her blouse.
You feel the van’s motor roar to life. You’re moving!
“Where are you taking us?” you demand.
The Wild Things don’t respond.
You twist around. A human is driving the van! You can see him through a small glass partition. You bang on the glass. “Help us! Help us!”
The driver doesn’t turn around, but you can hear him laughing.
Minutes later, you stop at a warehouse.
The Wild Things roughly drag you inside. You struggle, but you can’t break free. Your mother and father are right behind you. Coming quietly now.
The warehouse is empty except for a few old cars. In the center of the concrete floor is a circular metal staircase, leading down.
You hear noises. A deep sloshing, swooshing sound. Screams, terrified cries, shouts.
The Wild Things drag you down and down until you must be ten stories underground. A strange smell tickles your nose. It’s almost like … dust or lightning.
You emerge in an immense cavern. In the very center is a pool, like a small lake. The water inside moves like mercury. The surface of the liquid ripples and splashes. Something is under the water!
“Barracudas,” your father says.
You laugh. “What is this? A movie set?”
Your guard stops at the end of a low steel pier stretched out over the water. Your parents’ guards head off to the right. Your mother is sobbing. Your father is struggling and cursing.
“Don’t worry!” your mother shouts.
“We’re going to get out of this!” your father shouts.
“Hey — where are you taking them?” you holler. “Stop! You can’t do that!”
You’re crying, too. Now you notice the cages lining the edge of the pool. The cages are full of people! Men and women and children. They seem hopeless, beaten down. Most of them are just staring off into space.
One of the guards opens a door and roughly shoves your parents in with the others.
“Mom! Dad!” you holler.
Now the guard is dragging you down the pier. You kick and scream. You have no idea what’s going to happen but you know it’s probably not good.
At the end of the pier, the Wild Thing pushes you down. It twists your head. Forces your ear under the molten liquid.
Then you feel it.
Something tickling your ear. Something pushing and probing into your ear canal.
“NOOOOO!” you yell.
Out of the corner of your eye, you can see it. Something gray and slimy. Like the world’s biggest slug. And it’s crawling out of the sludge and into your ear!
The pain is incredible.
Worse than anything you’ve ever imagined.
The Wild Things haul you to your feet and let go. You want to run. To flee. To help your parents. But you can’t move your legs. Can’t control your eyes.
What is happening? you wonder.
To your surprise, someone answers.
Suddenly, without wanting to, you are walking calmly down the pier. You want to see what’s happening to your parents, but your eyes won’t move in the direction of the cages.
The voice is your head laughs.
What were you thinking? Go back to the end of chapter 3 and try again.
