The Pretender by K.A. Applegate

Author:K.A. Applegate
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Scholastic Inc.
Published: 2017-11-23T05:00:00+00:00

Out went the lights and I quickly discovered that Hork-Bajir don’t have much in the way of night vision. Neither do elephants. But elephants don’t care all that much, since they can pretty well stomp anything that gets in their way.

HhhrrrEEEEE-uh! Rachel trumpeted and took off around the perimeter of the alligator lagoon, heading for Frank’s Safari Land.

I was amazed how fast she was. I could barely keep up.

I heard annoyed yelling coming from the building.

“Hey, turn on the lights!”

“I want my money back!”

We rushed at the closest wall. Rachel came to a stop and carefully pressed the flat front of her wrecking-ball head against it. She leaned her weight forward and we both heard a creaking sound.

<Heh-heh-heh,> she cackled. <Just wood. Doesn’t this little piggy know he should build his house out of brick? Come out, come out, little piggy! Or I’ll huff, and I’ll puff, and I’ll crush this dump like a matchbox!>

She reared back and slammed her weight forward.

WHAM! CRRRRREEEK!

<That should have gotten people to step back,> she said. <Now we go in.>

She backed up three elephant steps and lunged forward, hurtling her dump truck weight against the flimsy wooden wall.

WHAM! Crrrr-ACK! Crunch!

WHOOOMPF! The wall fell in.

Now people were really yelling. “Hey, I’m getting outta here!”

Rachel happily stomped in across the shattered timbers and splintered plywood, trumpeting like mad, swinging her big trunk back and forth and generally making the kind of destructive mess she loved to make.

<Everybody out!> she ordered in wide-band thought-speak. <Rabid elephant! Psycho elephant on the loose! It’s Dumbo-zilla!>

In the general panic, no one would recall that they didn’t really “hear” anyone shout that warning.

I followed gingerly in Rachel’s wake. She was busily tossing her trunk up and down, making the low ceiling jump with each impact.

I squeezed past her and searched for the little lost Hork-Bajir. I found him in his cage.

But I was not alone.

On the other side of the cage stood three men. Two carried standard handguns. The third carried a weapon I’d seen far too often before: a Yeerk Dracon beam.

The three human-Controllers gaped at me. Not the way actual humans would react to suddenly encountering a Hork-Bajir. But the way people already familiar with Hork-Bajir would react to seeing one where he wasn’t expected.

<Uh, Rachel?> I said.

<What? Sorry, I’m all turned around and can’t help stomping this place to pieces.>

<Save that for Jake,> I said. <We have company.>

“Who are you?” one of the men demanded. “Visser Three didn’t tell us that … wait! It’s one of the renegade Hork-Bajir! One of the escaped hosts!”

Bek looked at me pleadingly. The Controllers leveled their weapons at me. And one of them began yelling into a watch that must have also been a communicator.

This was going to get ugly fast. They were here to grab the baby Hork-Bajir. So were we. One big difference: They might not care if Bek lived or died.

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