This is the scene where Tom's Yeerk betrays the Animorphs in the final book, advising Visser One to order the Taxxon (which is a morphed Tobias) to eat Cassie (which is a blackmailed Erek) and all of her hitchikers (who, expecting this, have moved off Erek). But, Tom thinks that the Yeerk has successfully outsmarted the Animorphs and they are finally defeated.
I MIGHT write a part 2, in which we would see hear Tom's reaction to finding out that Jake is, in fact, not dead.
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I had long ago given up any pretense of pride. I had been trapped in this hell for almost four years. The Yeerk saw everything, knew everything. The only thing I had left was sharpening my wit against his ego, and hoping, praying that my begging would appeal to an ounce of mercy he might have.
<Don’t do this. There is another way.>
<Oh, shut up, Tommy. If you’re going to beg and weep, at least be creative.>
<I’ve exhausted my creativity.>
<Both your twit of a brother and that moron Visser One have been driving me crazy for far too long. I am not going to give up a chance to be rid of them both forever. So stop sniveling.>
I retreated to the corner of my mind where I had resided for so long, and yearned to cry. But of course, I was even denied that small mercy. All I could do was think. Find a solution, there has to be another solution…
But there wasn’t one. I had been working on it for days. And then the Taxxon was there, and the Yeerk was suggesting smoothly that the Taxxon eat little Cassie and all her hitchhikers. I knew it was coming, but I couldn’t stop myself. That Taxxon reared up, an expression of glee that I swear was in those jell-o eyeballs.
<JAKE!>
Cassie screamed in pain and terror, her blood and shiny blue snakes spilling onto the floor. Sweet, beautiful Cassie, whom my brother loved. The beast swallowed an arm.
At least two Animorphs were being devoured. And I wished, more than ever, that I had the ability to cry.
I was in a daze, unaware of everything around me. I wasn’t paying attention to anything the Yeerk was doing. All I knew was that Jake was dead. My little brother, noble and loyal and chivalrous to a fault.
One simple concept permeated my mind, dominating the group of electrical impulses that was all that remained of Thomas Berenson. I articulated it just in case the Yeerk was not paying attention.
<I ****ing hate you.>
