Greetings readers! I apologize for the delay; I was in Alaska for the better part of a week and a half with no internet and hardly any time to write. Before that there was a major competition in the San Francisco area that was three days long that I had to do things for, etc., etc., excuses, you know the drill. Anywho, I haven't died, just been dumped on. The story must go on!

Thanks for those of you sticking around and dealing with my awkward writing! And thanks to those of you who comment and review my awkward writing so I can maybe make it less awkward! :D

Also, a special thanks is in order for user Armae for letting me use the name Vivienne. It's a sexy name for a sexy character. Mwahaha.

Cheers!

Chapter 11: The Hill Has Eyes

Judy stared at the wall opposite her. It was beige, boring, formless, and faded to the background as her thoughts raged behind her eyes. She had withdrawn into herself during the car ride here to the hospital, an old, defensive habit she instinctively took on in moments of great stress or fear. This allowed her to maintain a sort of outward composure even though she was adrift. She had come to realize over the course of the night that all hope of sanctuary had been suddenly swept away. How the delusion of safety when dealing with a foe who could tap into any camera or phone he wished had manifested, she didn't know. The station was no longer safe, none of them were. Nick's own house was targeted, and her own apartment would almost certainly be under surveillance.

The thought had slowly dawned that it was up to her now to solve the puzzle they had been given just before the break-in. Her training told her to step back and review the situation more carefully; after all, it could be some kind of ruse put on by Mr. White to track their movements, or to make them pawns in some kind of bigger plan he had. But something about the call made this seem less likely for her. It probably had to do with the intimate knowledge of Nick's past, and of the two of them working together. There was no malice in the message.

She sighed in the empty space, huddling her knees to her chest. She'd have to follow her gut on this one.

A sound to her right drew her attention, ears tilting automatically. It was the patter of padded paws, accented by the tick of claws echoing in a hallway. It was extremely faint, and no vibration followed it, indicating a lighter mammal. The spacing between the steps was that of an animal around Nick's size, though it could be anything from a lynx to a wolf. She kept her eyes locked on the door on the right side of the room, awaiting the answer to her conjectures.

The footsteps halted. Silence.

Judy shifted, readying herself to instantly spring into action. There was the sound of a heavy breath through a nose, then the door handle turned ninety degrees.

Into the room strode a slender vixen clad in black turtleneck sweater and trousers, a brilliant blue scarf accenting her equally sky-colored eyes that seemed almost fake. The slightest bit of greying on her muzzle and ear tips indicated her advanced years which in no way was reflected anywhere else on her person. Her expression was soft, eyes tired as she scanned the room, one black-gloved hand on the door handle, the other on a small, quaint handbag by her side.

When the vixen's gaze fell on Judy, a warm smile graced her muzzle, which pulled ever so slightly toward the ceiling in greeting. "Ah," she began in a voice smoother than flowing water in a Japanese garden, "Miss Hopps, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Judy blinked. "I, uh, it's nice to meet you Miss…?"

"Wilde, Vivienne Wilde," the vixen replied, losing the door behind her. Her British accent was musical, refined.

Judy's eyes grew wide. "Are you - ?"

"Nicolas's mother? Yes, I am."

"O-oh, well, I guess you already know about Nick and…and I…then…"

Vivienne traced a graceful path to sit in the chair opposite Judy, against the wall the bunny was staring at earlier. "I do indeed, and before you go worrying about any prejudices you may think I'm harboring, I'll have you know that I have no qualms with Nick engaging in a relationship with someone outside of his species. I only care that he is happy."

Judy closed her mouth after realizing she wouldn't need to say anything in their defense, especially for the picture due to appear on the cover of TIME. "That makes me feel…very relieved. Thank you, Mrs. Wilde."

The vixen waved her paw in front of her as if a fly were being a bother. "Oh please, call me Vivienne. And by all means, may I call you Judy?"

"Of course, Vivienne." Judy smiled, then she sighed and looked at the floor. "I assume you're here because of what happened to Nick?"

"That was part of my visit, yes. In fact, I've already…been to see him." Judy looked up at the vixen, who shrugged. "He's still sedated at the moment so he's not one for conversation. I left him a note." Vivienne smiled, a subtle gleam in her eyes. "No, I came to find you."

"Oh…okay…" Judy said, still not understanding.

Vivienne chuckled at the rabbit's apparent discomfort. "Don't worry yourself dear, I'm here to help you. Just a few hours ago you received a mysterious phone call loaded with a plethora of cryptic sentences, yes?"

Judy nodded, blinking to hide her surprise.

"Hmph, that's just like John. Likes to be dark and ominous, that one." The vixen shook her head with a smirk, as if recalling an old memory. "I received a message myself, though the directions were much plainer: help them. Apparently I'm the key to the second half of whatever grand scheme he's got going for you."

"So is this guy a friend of yours?" Judy asked.

Vivienne nodded. "We've known one another for donkey's years. Met before Nick was even born."

"So you trust him?"

"With my life. And if I were you, I'd do the same."

Vivienne's words and suddenly serious demeanor send a shiver down Judy's spine. "I suppose I don't really have a choice."

"You always have a choice, darling, that's what's important to remember." The vixen pulled up a sleeve to peer at her wristwatch. "For example, you can either come with me right now and complete our little venture by the time Nick is able to join the fun once again, or we can sit here winging and dithering until he wakes up and waste a day of progress." She glanced up at Judy, who shrugged.

"I'm not really doing anything else I guess –"

"Excellent, come with me," Vivienne said, springing up from her chair and gliding to the door.

Judy blinked and followed.

The vixen led her deftly through the hospital, this one known affectionately as "The Meatlocker" for its location in Tundra Town. It was the closest medical center to Nick's neighborhood, which resided just inside the wall between Sahara square and the frozen section, and it was proving to be very nearly as complicated as the one at which Judy was treated.

Having been stationary for over an hour, Judy was immediately cold when they walked through the doors. The vixen's keen ears must have picked up her shaking puffs of breath as she started shivering.

"Don't worry, love, my car may be old but it has an excellent heater."

"Oh good," Judy managed to squeak. Something odd began to register on the outer edge of her awareness then. Aside from the dull throb she'd grown used to around the point her prosthetics physically began, another sensation began to present itself. It was akin to the feeling of having an ice cube freeze to her fur, or licking a frozen pole. A burning that wasn't heat related. She then realized this was because the collars that joined her new limbs to her body were mostly made of metal, and they were becoming uncomfortably cold.

Finally, Vivienne unlocked the door of an old BMW. It looked ungainly with its high roofline and fishbowl-like windows and windshield. The engine came to life rather smoothly as Judy opened the passenger door, and the vixen had already gotten the heater going by the time she'd hopped into her seat.

"Where to then?"

"Mr. Otterton's flower shop in the Rainforest District, know it?"

"I do indeed, ma'am."

…

The drive was not long, and Mrs. Wilde seemed to know all of the shortcuts and secret turns to get to their destination quickest. Pleasant small talk filled the journey, mostly the fox asking Judy questions about growing up and pursuing a career in law enforcement. Judy couldn't help but grow very comfortable with the vixen. There was something enchanting and unexplainably charming about her. Judy smirked; this was probably where Nick got it.

"So why doesn't Nick have an accent?" Judy asked, watching the windshield wipers do battle with the rain.

"Oh, I'm afraid it was just more fodder for the bullies. Even for those who weren't exclusively pestering him. School children can be dreadful, and poor Nicolas was already singled out for being a fox. He purposely changed his accent by the time he became enamored with the Junior Ranger Scouts…" There was a sad smile on her face and a distant look in her eyes as she drove along. Then she shrugged. "No need to explain any more than that I suppose."

"That's really sad," Judy said, "I love your accent. I can only imagine how much better Nick would sound." She smirked at the thought.

Vivienne chuckled through her nose. "Ask him about it I suppose, I know it's still in there somewhere."

"I think I will…" Judy said, noticing Otterton's flower shop pass by her window. "That…that was it, back there," She stuttered, confused.

"Thank you, darling, but I'd prefer not to go through the front entrance at this hour." Her tone hadn't deviated from its cheeriness. For some reason it hadn't dawned in Judy until now that Otterton's shop would be closed and empty. It was almost 3:30 AM, after all. They were going to break in.

Oddly, the realization didn't come with its usual set of discomforts, the apprehension of reprimands for breaking the rules of society. This was a necessary blot on her nearly perfect record. In fact, the more she thought about it, she'd bent the rules before, when sneaking into the facility that housed Mr. Big's limo while searching for the same otter they would be stealing from. This was really no different. She made a mental note to leave some cash someday, seeing as her wallet was still at Nick's and therefore inaccessible.

"Good point," she remarked as the car glided down the overgrown alley behind the shop. The building itself was constructed of vertical wooden planks, painted an opaque shade of red. It looked like it belonged along the waterfront in a port town as opposed to a rainforest, and was strangely devoid of flora on the street side. Behind the shop was a different story; three greenhouses interlaced with open-air pots and boxes filled the small property to the brim, all loose stems and vines trimmed neatly to keep them out of the alleyway.

They slid to a stop, no evidence of brakes squealing. They had parked in the shadow of an adjacent building more in keeping with the aesthetic of the rest of the district, sort of built into the plants and foliage around it, twisting the roots and limbs into shape.

"Tell me dear," Vivienne suddenly began, "how many cameras did you see on our drive around the block? Specifically ones that would matter to our little adventure that we're about to partake in?"

Judy was caught off-guard. Cameras? It was three in the morning, how could she be expected to know to look for those without knowing what the plan was? "I-I have no idea," she finally stammered.

"Not a bother, there are three we need to look out for, and probably one inside. Two of them watch the garden out here in the back, and one covers the entire front entrance."

"Okay, so how do we get past them?"

Vivienne smirked and exited her door, locking the car after Judy followed suit. The vixen strode to an alley between the flower shop and the neighboring building, perpendicular to the driving space. "They don't cover the alleys, dear." She disappeared in the shadows, leaving Judy confused. This was furthered by the sound of tearing leaves.

Suddenly, Vivienne's silhouette appeared on the roof of the flower shop, bent low against the moonlight filtering through the canopy high above. A shocked stutter escaped Judy's lips before the vixen deftly climbed over the edge of the roofline and slapped something over the lens of the camera in the corner. She swung back onto the roof to do the same to the other side.

"It's safe now, darling, come on." The vixen monkeyed down the wall and landed silently beside the back door.

Judy climbed over the fence and made her way through the jungle of exotic plants and flowers. By the time she reached Vivienne, the fox was already opening the door, having spent the short length of Judy's trek to pick the lock. She zipped the tools back into her handbag before turning to the shocked rabbit.

"Feels a bit cheeky doing this so obviously in front of an officer of the law." She winked. "Now, follow me," she whispered, turning to stride through the doorway. Judy paused, and saw that the camera lenses had been covered by the simple concoction of a large leaf wrapped around them, secured by a rubber band. Simple, non-damaging, and ingenious.

Inside was dark. Any shutters were closed, and the only electronic lights visible were one small red light in the upper corner of the camera angled at the front counter, and the slowly oscillating blink of a computer in sleep mode. The silence was stifling, and it contributed to the cold pull in her guts, the manifestation of apprehension.

Thunk.

The sound was startling and out of the blue, and Judy's eyes flashed about the room to try and determine the source. She lacked the night vision of the fox however.

"What was that?" She asked, much too quickly to hide her nervousness.

"Me," Vivienne responded, "the camera won't bother us any longer." She walked towards the spot where the red light formerly shined and reached up towards it. A flash of metal followed; she'd used some sort of thrown blade to sever an unprotected wire.

"That's rather impressive, Mrs. Wilde," Judy said, feeling useless.

The vixen's tail swished as she spoke. "Vivienne, please." She produced a flashlight from her magical handbag. Judy found herself wondering how much room she had for normal items in there. It was only the length and height of most letters after all.

"The phone voice said to look for a delivery in Nick's name," Judy said, taking in the room with the ambient light of Vivienne's torch.

"Indeed. Here," Vivienne said, holding out the flashlight, "you need this more than me. I'll check the newest ones out here. There's a storeroom in the back that we passed on the way in."

Judy found the door easily enough. Opening it revealed a narrow, but long, room stacked with shelves on either side that reached the ceiling, six tiers high. Thankfully they weren't all filled, and most of the arrangements were identical and looked to be large orders for weddings or other such events. Hopping between shelves was easy, and soon Judy came across a humble arrangement about midway down the length of the room on the fourth tier. Hanging from it was a tag. It read: To Samantha Wilde, From the Rest of Us. May your memory continue to inspire.

"I think I found something," Judy called.

"Oh?" Vivienne's head appeared around the doorway. "Do tell!"

"It's an arrangement addressed to a Samantha Wilde. It's the only mention of the name 'Wilde' that I can find in here." There was a long pause before Vivienne responded.

"It's the right one."

Judy turned at the sudden change in tone. The vixen's cheery and swashbuckling demeanor was replaced with a sullen, clinical quality. "Is there something wrong?"

"No, no. I know exactly where he wants us to go; he's used this particular drop point before, but only in times of great trial. Something very bad is going on."

"Oh," Judy said, hopping off the shelving unit, "and where is this 'bad news' drop point?"

"The grave of my infant daughter, Nicolas's sister."

Judy's breath caught in her throat. Nick had never said anything about having a sister. He'd never mentioned much about his family in general, so Judy hadn't bothered to ask, figuring he'd reveal what he wanted to when he felt like doing so. But this news was a bit shocking. "O-oh," Judy repeated, unable to form the right words, "I…don't know what to say."

Vivienne smiled sadly. "It's quite alright. No words are needed for the harshness of reality." Her eyes fell on the floral arrangement above them. "Nicolas was the only surviving kit of his litter as well. My body decided I would need to try very hard to have children, it seems. Samantha only lasted six weeks, but in that time Nicolas had grown rather attached. He was devastated. I don't think he spoke more than a word for a month afterward."

Judy instinctively went to rub her paw with the other, arms folded in front of her in a subconscious expression of sympathy, but only found the cold touch of steel. She gazed down at her prosthetic hand. Harshness of reality indeed.

"I…can't say I understand what you and your family went through. I come from a huge family that's still growing. If I went back tomorrow there would be a whole new group of children that I'd need to learn the names of." She met eyes with the vixen. "Death was part of our reality with old relatives and some newborns, but it didn't seem to ever hurt quite as much as hearing about your story."

Vivienne nodded in understanding. "The fact that you sympathize is enough; it shows how caring you are."

They traded a smile, then glanced back up to the flowers. "To Samantha's grave, then?" Judy asked.

"To Samantha's grave."

…

Fey tapped the steering wheel, eyes locked on the flower shop, ears perked and sifting through the sounds that filtered in through his open window. He wore an amorphous cap and round spectacles as a sort of disguise; it had been some time since he'd handed Mr. White's first ominous letter to the fox and rabbit officer, true, but in his experience being careful always paid off. He held a map in his lap that he could snatch up in an instant to "pour over" if Hopps happened to catch sight of him.

Taking a drag on his cigarette cast his dashboard in a dull red glow. The barrel of his scoped .308 gleamed menacingly as it leaned within arm's reach. He smirked. Mr. White knew he was being watched. Word travelled quickly in the underworld, especially among thieves. The vixen had apparently taken notice of some of his employer's activities and warned someone.

Mr. White was not pleased with this; Danny Fey wanted to change that. So here he sat, having tracked down the rabbit, and consequently the vixen, who had taken special interest in Officer Wilde for some reason. But that didn't matter; what was important was stopping them from impeding Mr. White's plans.

Danny took a triumphant drag as the BMW exited the alley next to the flower shop. He sat in still silence as the car turned onto Fruitvale, about half a block ahead. He tossed his cigarette butt out the window before starting up and sliding into the lane. He followed at a distance, using his trained eyes to track them in the sparse early morning traffic, utilizing his legendary patience. A smirk crossed his lips as the car took the exit onto the M-790 highway, toward the meadowlands.

That would explain the flowers.

His suspicions were confirmed a short time later when the BMW pulled off the road and up to the front gate of a sprawling cemetery. He continued past, glancing in his rearview mirror to double-check that he hadn't been spotted. Seeing the vixen roll down her window to talk to an old badger groundskeeper filled him with a small sense of relief coupled with quiet pride. He took the next right, up a winding road he knew overlooked the cemetery.

A perfect firing angle.

…

"Mornin' to ya Mrs. Wilde," the elderly badger said, touching the brim of his drivers cap. A sad, knowing expression hung on his face; Vivienne had obviously been here before at odd hours. "Coming to see Sam again?"

"Indeed I am, Reggie," Vivienne said, through the open window, "I hope you don't mind."

"Oh not at all, ma'am. Seeing you here so often puts a big ol' smile on my face. It's good to see such love nowadays." He turned to the swooping, elegant gate blocking their entry and undid the chain. He opened one side of it and gave them a thumbs-up.

"Thank you, dear," Vivienne said on the way by, her expression genuine. Judy smiled at the whole exchange while watching the windshield through the bouquet she held on the seat between her legs.

They drove through the winding roads of the hilly cemetery in silence. A chilly morning breeze filtered in through Vivienne's open window, but it wasn't unpleasant. Graves of all shapes and sizes glided past on either side, all manners of burial rituals Judy could even think of. A couple Cairns dotted the distant hills, obscured by the receding fog. Graves in the shapes of ships, towers, some with horns and tusks adorning them, some sporting colorful designs, others very plain and modest, all had a place. Cresting a small knoll revealed a patch of dirt with remnants of funeral pyres in the distance.

The car glided to a halt. Judy looked to Vivienne, who smiled wistfully. "We have to do some walking, if you don't mind."

"Not at all," Judy said. They exited the car, but before Judy could make it two steps, Vivienne was by her side.

"Let me take that," she said sweetly, "it's half your size."

Judy couldn't argue. She smirked, and let the vixen handle the floral arrangement. It was her daughter after all, it was only right for her to deliver the flowers, even if it wasn't the main reason for the visit.

Soon they came across a mausoleum. It was plain, built of grey rock with a granite foundation. The grass around it was trimmed, but it was lined on either side by large rose bushes, onto which clung and spread long, twisting arms of ivy that climbed the somber walls. Across the top, etched into the stone were the words "The Little Ones."

Vivienne stopped and regarded it, gripping the flowers with both paws on slack arms. The distant sounds of birds and wind through the trees were the only noises breaking the stillness. Dew still clung to the shorn blades of grass and fallen leaves that dotted the area. Droplets of water fell from the tree above the structure, thin veins of discolored stone running down the walls.

"To the newborns, toddlers, bundles, and unknown young that were taken too soon. May they be sheltered forever from the hardships of the world, and frolic through the meadows of eternity. May their laughter grace us in our times of tribulation. May we strive to be as pure of heart," read the plaque beside the entrance.

Judy's paw instinctively went to her chest; this was a burial site designated specifically for children and babies.

"Things were harder for us foxes back then," Vivienne said from behind her. "Samantha's remains were moved here only a decade ago. They wouldn't let us bury her with other children or in a grave of her own in most cases."

"That's horrible," Judy croaked, voice hardly above a whisper. How could such a cruelty be allowed? Not being able to bury your own child?

The vixen sighed, stepping forward and retrieving her keyring. She unlocked the gated entryway, which creaked on its hinges slightly. Judy followed her inside.

Their soft footsteps echoes on the marble floor. Judy scanned the space in wonder; it was breathtaking. A great, stained-glass skylight cast beams of red wine, cold turquoise, and an array of fall colors onto the surrounding walls, the floor reflecting the early morning sunlight rather well. Niches of varying sizes reached the ceiling, housing urns ranging from decadent and ornate to the simplest, heartfelt pots. They swept upwards in a clockwise direction as opposed to being on shelves straight across. The whole place was exceptionally clean and well-maintained.

"This is the one," Vivienne said, kneeling and setting the flowers on the floor. Judy made her way over as the fox sat and crossed her legs, leaning on the mausoleum wall. The urn was small, maybe half Judy's height, but it sat atop a large block base to fill in the space and double its stature. "Good morning, my little one," Vivienne whispered, tracing the back of her index finger over the name on the urn, "What gifts are you hiding for us?"

Judy watched in silence, fighting the growing lump in her throat. She needed to focus, remain professional dammit!

Vivienne's paw disappeared around the back off the urn and into the shadows. "Ah," she whispered, "what is this?" She pulled a black briefcase into her lap, dusting it off.

"W-wow," Judy stuttered. "I can see why this is an excellent hiding place…"

Vivienne gave a melancholy chuckle, nodding. "However unpleasant it may be, it does have its uses. Like I said before, this place is only used in dire circumstances. What's in this case is for our eyes only, and Nick's. To anyone else, the contents don't exist."

Judy nodded. "Yes ma'am."

Vivienne turned back to the urn. "I'll be back soon, dear. Thank you." She deposited the flowers beside it and stood, leading Judy out of the entrance, briefcase in hand. "I hope you don't mind me inviting you to my house for breakfast, and perhaps nap," she said, locking the gate, "I need to make sure you're safe – "

Judy heard the pause, but was fiddling with her prosthetic arm, tracing the lines in her palm with a finger. "That won't be a problem. It would be nice to feel like I don't have to watch my back every waking moment…" Her voice trailed off as she noticed Vivienne's body language had changed drastically. Her tail was straight out, fur on the back of her neck elevated, ears perked and forward, eyes locked on the horizon over Judy's head.

Vivienne sniffed. "I know that scent."

"Scent?"

"Yes. Only one mammal I know smokes cigarettes that smell like that."

That's when Judy caught the familiar odor. It was a unique tobacco…one could almost call it spicy. Something glinted on a distant hillside –

Vivienne suddenly whirled around, seizing Judy and diving behind the mausoleum as a spray of rock dust erupted from one of the walls. The deep thunder of a rifle rippled over the landscape as they landed.

"Holy mother of cranberries!" Judy squealed, adrenaline firing through her system. She was instantly back on her feet, back pressed against the prickling rosebush wall beside the structure. Vivienne joined her, ears still alert.

"We've only got about thirty-five yards to go before the hill obscures us," she said, pointing down the short path. "Unless, of course, he's moving, which would be very like him."

"Who the hell is this guy?" Judy asked frantically; the chunk of the wall the bullet blasted through meant the rifle was big enough to blow her in half.

"Daniel Fey," Vivienne said through clenched teeth, "I've had a few run-ins with him before. He makes his money killing for others at a distance."

"Oh shit, shit, shit…" Judy breathed. Her legs were beginning to tremble. Everything that had happened in the past twenty four hours was hitting her at once, and her lack of sleep didn't help. She felt a paw on her shoulder.

"Breathe dear, we'll get out of this. Like I said, I've dealt with him before."

Vivienne's words did little to calm Judy's thrumming nerves, but she put on a brave face nonetheless. The fox crawled to peer around the rosebushes.

"There you are you manky twat," she grumbled before pulling her head back. "He's moved," she said, "he knows we'll make a run for it."

"Then what do we do?!"

"Wait for him to reload, of course." Vivienne scanned their surroundings.

Judy clamped her eyes shut and focused on slowing her breathing down. She used a technique Chief Bogo had taught her that involved standing with strength. It was during a random outing over coffee that the chief had revealed that he was once horrible with public speaking, that even though he was eight feet tall and nearly two thousand pounds of solid cape buffalo, he couldn't help but feel small in a room surrounded by other mammals. Judy pulled her shoulders back, puffed out her chest, held her head level, lightly flexed the muscles in her arms, bent her knees slightly, and dug her toes into the ground. This provided breathing room and balance, grounding her, allowing her to regain control of her panic, her mind to clear. "Anything I can do?" She asked.

"I'm trying to figure that out," Vivienne said. She suddenly slipped her black turtleneck and blue scarf off, revealing a simple tank top beneath.

"Wh – " Judy began in confusion, but saw the plan form as Vivienne then slipped her tail through the neck of the jumper, tying the scarf on the top.

"As soon as he fires, sprint for the car. I'll be right behind you," she said, handing Judy the briefcase, "we'll only have about four seconds before he reloads and regains his firing angle."

A breath escaped Judy's lips. "We can do this."

Vivienne winked, then inched backwards, using her tail to give the illusion of herself taking another peek around the building. The bullet came two seconds later, followed by a yelp from Mrs. Wilde. Following instructions, Judy immediately bolted down the path, her own breathing and pounding footsteps in her ears. Two more booming reports followed, but she didn't slow down or turn back. Vivienne could handle herself, right?

She slid to a halt in front of the car passenger door, only to find it locked. "Shit!" she swore, whipping around. Vivienne was nowhere to be seen. "Oh god!" She shouted, "Vivienne!"

The door behind her unlocked. "I'm here, love, don't worry yourself!" Vivienne was already climbing into the driver's seat. Judy gasped with relief, then tore her door open.

"Go! Go!" She shouted as the car started. The vixen dropped it into gear, rear tires flailing on the dirt as she whipped it into the opposite direction. They soon hit pavement. Judy sat back in her seat, breathing hard. They'd made it, they'd escaped death. A dark thought crossed her mind, making her grin. "Hey, if we didn't make it, they wouldn't have to move us too far – "

They both ducked as the rear and front passenger windows shattered almost simultaneously. Judy turned in her seat to peer through the gaping space the rear glass once occupied and spied a figure in the distance, near the mausoleum. It was definitely a buck, his headgear visible topping off his silhouette, at an angle as his head tipped into the glinting scope of his rifle. As they steadily gained distance on the twisting roads, Judy saw the figure lower his rifle. He stood there watching them until he himself was obscured by the rolling hills of the burial grounds.