The Departure (Animorphs, vol. 19)
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
Cassie is tired of the missions. She's tired of the secrecy. She's tired of being an Animorph. So she quits. But the fight is far from over. A human-controller has discovered Cassie's secret.
hah! Amazing! I just figured it out! You're trying to turn me. You're trying to get me to turn against my own side." "I'm trying to save you," I whispered. Karen snorted. "You want to make peace, don't you? You want to find a way to stop us without having to get your hands dirty. You want to defeat us . . . without having to kill us. It's almost sweet. It is sweet. Sweet and naive and foolish and utterly, utterly futile." I turned and saw Marco. Only he was in his osprey morph
"Exit" light and light from the computer we used to keep track of the animals' progress. I passed by the cages. Most of the animals were quiet. But not all were asleep. The nocturnal animals were pacing to and from - those that could pace. I walked by a fox. Its tail had been hacked off. Probably by some troubled kids. It paced and stared out of the cage and paced some more. It looked at me. It had very intelligent eyes. It looked right at me. "It's okay," I said to the fox. I found my
around outside the fence, scratched up, wet, with its saddle over on one side. Her dad knows wild animals. He found the bear tracks. He followed the horse and bear tracks until it got too dark to see. They called the cops and the park service. A search was organized. But it's almost impossible for people to find a single person in a hundred square miles of forest. Rachel called me. I called the others. Marco said something he didn't really mean about Cassie not being an Animorph anymore, so
I took my favorite mare. It was a cool, gusty afternoon with clouds rolling in again, threatening an early sunset. I rode at a trot most of the way, feeling chilly air on my face and trying to think of nothing. But when I got to the old tub, I found it perfectly clean. No leaves, no algae. It had even been propped up to sit more level on the ground. I swung down out of the saddle and looked around for an explanation. I found it in the mud: a narrow hoofprint, not much different from a deer's.
was ripping at the slender tree. The girl screamed in terror. I yanked the mare away from the fence, backed off a hundred feet, then said, "Hee-yah!" and dug my heels in, urging her to run toward the fence. We galloped, tearing up clods of damp dirt and grass behind us. I tucked down, held on tight and hoped the mare knew how to jump, because I sure didn't. Up! Up! We sailed high - WHAP! Her back hooves caught the top rail and then landed hard but safe. "Come on, girl!" I yelled, and we