The Visitor (11 page)

“Shall I kill it?” Chapman asked.

“No. Don’t kill it. Seize it. Seize it now, before it can morph back into Andalite shape. By the time I am
done with this one, we will have them all! It has been a long time since I tortured a proud Andalite warrior. But I know how to break them. Seize it and bring it to me!”

Chapman knew better than to argue.

C
hapman dived. His hands were open wide, grabbing for me.

I was trapped! No way out. No way to open that door and escape.

Trapped!

No sensible choice but to surrender.

But the cat and I were in agreement on this: You never surrender.

I felt my claws extend. My pupils were wide, ready to see every tiny movement. My ears were flattened back against my skull. My needle-sharp teeth were bared. My liquid steel muscles were coiled.

Chapman’s hand seemed to slow down. It was like
he was moving in slow motion. Everything seemed slower to my heightened cat senses. Only I was moving at normal speed.

My paw lashed out. My claws bit flesh. I saw three bright red tracks on the back of Chapman’s hand.

I could smell the blood that flowed.

“Ahhhhh!” Chapman howled. He backed away.

“Get it!” Visser Three shouted.

Jake wondered.

Chapman got a determined look on his face. He came at me again. I was cornered. No way out.

I slashed. Chapman cried out.

My claws were lacerating him, tearing furrows in his arms and hands.

He grabbed me around the middle. The cat in me hated being grabbed that way.

Hated it a lot.

I brought my teeth into it. I was a ten-pound bundle of lightning-fast claws and teeth. Chapman’s hands looked like raw hamburger.

“A magnificent animal!” Visser Three commented. “Twist it around. Hold it with your forearm. That’s right.”

I did a lot of damage. Believe me, Chapman got hurt.

But in the end, no matter how tough I was, I was
just ten pounds of killer. Chapman was about eighteen times bigger.

He got his forearm around my chest. He had me pressed back against his chest. My front legs were pinned. With his other arm he managed to grab my hind legs.

All I could do was bite.

I bit. I bit again and again. But although I could hurt him, I couldn’t kill him. I couldn’t stop him. His fear of Visser Three was greater than the pain I was causing.

“Bring it to me,” Visser Three said enthusiastically. “Bring it to me. I will come to collect it at the nearest landing site.”

“Visser, what if it … Owww! … What if it resumes its Andalite shape?”

“You have weapons. If it tries to remorph, kill it.”

“Yes … Ahhhh! … Rotten little beast! Yes, Visser. I will go directly.”

“We will deal with this Andalite bandit. And bring the girl, too.”

“The girl … Melissa?” Chapman asked.

“I have been indulgent too long. This Andalite spy has penetrated your home. It is because of the girl. I have already chosen the Yeerk for her. Bring her with the Andalite. Obey me, Iniss Two-Two-Six. Or prepare to face the Vanarx.”

Visser Three’s hologram disappeared. Chapman suddenly threw me across the room. I twisted in midair and brought my legs around for the landing. I hit the floor and skidded.

By the time I was up, Chapman had reached his desk and opened a drawer. His bloody hand came out with a small pistol-like device I had seen before. It was a handheld Dracon beam.

Chapman leveled the weapon at me. He was shaking. His face seemed to be twitching. The weapon jerked a little with each spasm. But I knew he would still have gotten me if I had tried to move.

Jake demanded.

I said.

Jake asked.

Chapman opened the door a crack. “Get down here! Now!” he yelled upstairs.

I guess he saw my eyes flick toward the door. He made a fierce, vicious grin. “Try it, Andalite. Go ahead and try it. I’d love the excuse to fry you.”

I decided not to head for the door.

“You’ve made life very difficult for me,” Chapman said. “Very difficult. If I have to let Visser Three take the girl, my host will make life annoying for me. Do you know how tiring it is to have an uncooperative host? No, of course you don’t. But trust me, Andalite: I will gladly kill you.”

Ms. Chapman appeared at the door. “What is it?”

“This cat is one of the Andalite bandits in a morph. Visser Three wants him. Get me the cage we use to take him to the vet.”

Ms. Chapman nodded and disappeared.

Jake asked.

I said. I was feeling utterly defeated. Because of me, the Yeerks were going to take Melissa. I had failed. I had made a mess of things.

Ms. Chapman brought the cage. She opened the little barred door.

“In,” Chapman snapped.

I didn’t move.

“In,” he said in a cruel whisper. “In or I’ll finish you right here.”

He looked like he meant it. I walked into the cage. Ms. Chapman closed the door and made sure it was locked.

Chapman snatched up the cage and carried me to the top of the stairs. “Now,” he snapped at his wife, “go get … ungh!”

Peering through the slats in the side of the cage, I saw him stagger. His face was twitching like he was a crazy man. He seemed to be having a hard time getting control of his mouth. “Go … get … the … girl,” he said through gritted teeth.

Ms. Chapman started to obey, but then Chapman cried out.

“Oh! Ungh!” He fell to his knees. “He is … urgh … he is … fighting me….”

“Host rebellion,” Ms. Chapman muttered under her breath. She seemed horrified and fascinated all at once. Then, suddenly, her left hand slapped her own face.

“Ahhhhh! Mine … mine … too.”

“Stop it, Chapman,” Chapman said. “Stop it or I’ll break you! I’ll leave you nothing but a shell! You cannot win. No host has ever succeeded in rebelling!”

But the Chapman host wasn’t giving up.

It was terrible. Terrible in a way that made you want to watch. To anyone else it would have just looked as if our assistant principal and his wife were
nuts. Chapman was talking to himself and twitching and contorting, still unable to get to his feet.

I told Jake.

“Aaaarrrrggh! “ Chapman cried. Suddenly he lurched to his feet. “I will win, Chapman. You cannot resist!”

And it was true. The Chapman host was losing. Iniss Two-Two-Six was regaining control.

The same was happening with Ms. Chapman. The Yeerk in her head was forcing the rebellious hand away from her throat.

But neither of the Chapmans looked good.

I reported to Jake.

Chapman looked at his wife. Or at least the Yeerk slug in Chapman’s brain ordered his eyes to look toward the body that was controlled by a different Yeerk. It was harder now to think of Chapman as just
being Chapman. I had seen proof that there were two creatures inside him.

I even knew what that was like. There were two people in my head as well. I had fought to control the shrew, just as the Chapman Yeerk now fought to control Chapman’s brain.

Chapman said, “I have control again.”

Ms. Chapman nodded. “Yes. But just barely. They fight fiercely for their children, these humans.”

“And they will not stop fighting. I can’t maintain my cover with this host waiting to attack at every opportunity. I have to be at the school every day. The host is beaten and exhausted for now, but in a few days he will strike again.” Chapman sounded angry and frustrated. “He’s not a fool. He knows he can’t win…. He knows each battle will leave him weaker and that eventually I will triumph.”

Ms. Chapman kicked my cage, like it was all my fault. “He doesn’t have to win. All he has to do is wait until you are in a meeting with parents or members of the school board, then strike. They’ll think you’ve lost your mind.”

Chapman looked haunted. He checked his watch. “I’ll take the Andalite to Visser Three. Maybe … maybe I can make him understand.”

“Go, quickly,” Ms. Chapman told her husband.

Chapman snatched up the cage I was in. He
barreled through the door. He slammed me into the doorjamb on the way.

“Daddy? Daddy? What are you doing?”

It was Melissa. She was across the living room. I hadn’t seen her arrive. Where had she been? I could only pray that she had not heard everything. If she’d heard it all, there was no hope for her.

Chapman kept walking. Out into the wet night.

“Daddy? Do you have Fluffer in there?”

I told Jake.

“Daddy?” Melissa sounded frightened now. She came running. Chapman moved quicker. The real Chapman was helping. He knew his daughter would only make things worse if she tried to intervene.

“Fluffer!” Melissa cried.

There was only one hope. I cried out, making my thought-speech as loud as I could.

His answer was faint, but it was Tobias.

Jake demanded.

“Fluffer! Why are you taking Fluffer? Daddy, stop!”