Alan turned to look at his companions, who were all staring curiously at this strange rabbit, Cowslip, feeling utterly perplexed by his peculiar attitude. How could a rabbit, finding himself face to face with a talking human, appear completely unconcerned? On the other hand, the fact that there was a warren nearby was a great relief to them all.
None of them had had a decent meal since leaving Sandleford and were utterly exhausted. They couldn't go on much further without food and rest, particularly the injured Pimpernel. They also needed more recruits, particularly does, if they were going to start a new warren. Violet was their only surviving doe; one doe between fourteen young bucks that would need mates if they were to continue their society would not do. Toppled with the threat of Efrafa made it clear that more recruits were necessary if they were going to make it to Watership Down. This warren might be the solution to all their problems…but not as far as Alan was concerned.
Cowslip, meanwhile, had retreated into the foliage, saying he would be waiting for them back at his warren, should they decide to accept his invitation. He strode away through the heather and disappeared into the thickets.
"Odd behaviour that Cowslip, don't you think?" remarked Bigwig suspiciously, but none the less intrigued, "What's he got to gain by asking us to join him?"
"And why in Frith's name isn't he the least surprised that we have three talking ithel among us?" exclaimed Holly in total disbelief, "Is he blind?" Someone else however knew just what to say about this.
"We ought to have nothing to do with that Cowslip or his warren!" said Fiver forcefully, "That rabbit is evil! I could feel it in my bones…!" Unlike his friends, the little seer could sense something bad beneath Cowslip's deceiving, seemingly friendly nature. The others however, who didn't possess his sixth sense, or Alan's knowledge of things to come, and thus didn't realise what they were getting themselves into, were indignant.
"What are you afraid of, you squeamish little beetle?" snapped Bigwig, "What do you suppose he'll think of us if we don't go in? He'll think we're all cowards…!" But Alan came to Fiver's defence.
"I'm afraid Fiver's right, you chaps. That Cowslip does mean trouble," he said, explaining what he knew from the book, about Cowslip's warren being a death-trap full of farmers' snares, where rabbits lived resigned to an easy life of good food and protection from elil, ultimately to be picked off one by one for slaughter.
"Under Cowslip's influence and the benefits of his 'easy life', they all live like idle-minded sheep; whenever a rabbit goes missing, they simply never speak his name again. They simply never existed. The rules are simple: live with dignity and a will to accept your fate," he finished by quoting Cowslip's own words. As he'd expected, his friends were appalled.
"Frith of Inle!" gasped Holly, looking disgusted, "How can those cowardly wretches live with themselves? Sacrifice their fellow rabbits so that they might live one day longer? This is outrageous!" The others were voicing their agreements with equal anger and disgust. Bigwig, in particular, who had frozen in his tracks after hearing of his would-be near-death encounter with the snare when he'd refused to listen to Fiver's visions, and regretting his earlier outburst, knew just what to say about this.
"Well, in that case, nobody is going near that place! We aren't close to starving yet and we can always find more recruits elsewhere. That madrabbit Cowslip and his cronies can keep their tharn life as they deserve!" The others nodded in agreement. Given what Alan had just said, the most logical course of action would be to stay well clear of that horrible place. But there was still something else to consider – and, much to everyone's surprise, the voice of reason came from Fiver.
"But what about all those rabbits under Cowslip's control? They may be cowardly fools, but we can't just leave them to such a horrible fate!" Alan was amazed; in the book, Fiver had wanted to stay as far away from Cowslip's warren as possible, but now, hearing of the sick atrocities Cowslip was committing against his own people had given him the willpower to want to try and correct this injustice. The others, however, looked anything but keen on the idea. After all, what did they owe those rabbits, who apparently were content to living such a hollow life? Nothing whatsoever, so they might as well leave them to their fate. Only Alan had a different opinion.
"Fiver's got a good point. In your story, some of them did actually end up joining you and proved to be important for your new warren," he said, coming up with a plan, "I think it's within our power to work this out for the benefit of both sides." Although sceptical at their friend's confidence, the rabbits figured they might as well hear him out.
"We accept Cowslip's invitation, but play ignorant to the fact that his warren is a death trap; Derek, McEwen and I can search the warren and remove all the snares, right from under Cowslip's ugly nose. Once that's done, we can try discreetly talking to some of his rabbits who may be willing to join us; we recruit as many as we possibly can and then leave unnoticed. Not only would that work to our advantage if it pays off, but it will also deliver a devastating blow against Cowslip!"
"Cunning and trickery worthy of El-ahrairah himself," commented Bigwig, looking utterly impressed, "That blighter won't even know what hit him until we've ruined him! Good idea, chum!"
"So, who's in?"
They all considered for a moment, weighing out the odds. Despite the dangers they were about to drag themselves into, with Alan's help, it seemed like a fool-proof plan, well worth the risk. Finally, they all nodded in agreement. Alan smiled.
"All right then. Let's go brief the others. And as for you," he said, turning to Robbins, who still sat nearby, lost in his own thoughts, "We aren't done yet. We'll finish our little conversation later."
"I look forward to it," sneered Robbins nastily at Alan's retreating back, as he watched them go. This wasn't good, he thought. He couldn't keep up pretences much longer. It was now only a matter of time before Johnson worked out his true intentions. He had to act and fast! To his good fortune, his chance had, ever so conveniently, presented itself with the arrival of Cowslip; and Johnson's foolish little escapade was the perfect way for him to get close to someone who might help him fulfil his mission…
By that time, it had started pouring down with rain, which was unusually heavy for common English spring rain, probably due to the shifted climate of the future age. Inside the church, everyone was awake, unable to sleep from the rain leaking down through the collapsed roof of their poor, makeshift shelter. After informing them of their encounter with Cowslip and the dark secret of his warren, Alan outlined his plan to infiltrate his warren and recruit any rabbits willing to join them.
"Remember," he explained, "Stick in pairs and never wonder off alone. Keep well clear of the thickets or any other place around the warren that's likely to conceal a hidden trap. If you get snared and you're alone, it's all over. Above all, don't breathe a word to anyone in that place of who we really are until we're ready to make our move. Are we clear?" They all nodded.
"Outstanding. Let's go."
They left the church and followed Cowslip's trail towards his warren, on the far side of a nearby meadow surrounded by thick woodland, where the long-gone village of Newtown Common once stood. The entrance to the warren was a large hole dug into the side of a little hill. As they approached, they saw Cowslip emerge, waiting to welcome them with open arms.
"Welcome, welcome, greetings all. I am so glad you've decided to accept my invitation. Please come in and make yourselves at home," chanted the sly rabbit joyfully, hurrying over to greet them, again showing no fear at the sight of the four humans. He reminded Alan of a domesticated rabbit, whose natural fear of humans was completely suppressed. He couldn't help but wonder, what kind of humans could have survived in this world? Where were they? So far, they had seen no signs of human life in this world. Little did he know that he and his friends were soon going to find out an even more horrible truth that they imagined!
The group were ushered below, into a large circular cavern. This was the biggest underground chamber Alan had ever seen. The roof towered several feet high, supported by a thick web of tangled tree-roots, which formed the foundations of the warren. Several runs led away from the main chamber into other parts of the warren. A large pile of flayrah lay on the cavern floor, enough to feed a small army, like an elaborate rabbits' buffet. This had to be the infamous Hall of Bones Adams had written about in his book.
The walls of the chamber, in contrast to Sandleford, which had been plain earth, were embedded with crude murals made of curious-looking stones, smooth and coloured, almost artificial. Upon closer inspection, Alan realised they were actually fragments of brick, porcelain, concrete, glass and even mirrors, undoubtedly the remains of human houses from centuries back, now collapsed and buried under lairs of earth. These bits of coloured stone had been used by the rabbits to form these crude murals, primitive but nonetheless fascinating.
Looks like the artistic spirit's also survived this far into the future, passed on from one species to another, like the language, thought Alan, staring at the scenes depicted in the murals. These pictures seemed to tell a crude series of stories it seemed, much like the cave paintings of Lascaux or the Bayeux Tapestry, detailing some of the warren's history.
Alan could make out something that resembled a pair of rabbits standing in the rays of Frith, probably receiving a blessing; a group of rabbits feasting before a massive pile of flayrah like the one in the Hall of Bones; and finally, what looked like, a rabbit bowing before, what looked like, a man on a horse. Unfortunately, there was so little detail, Alan couldn't make out much of this future 'man', other than it was definitely human. Was this supposed to be fact or just myth?
A dozen plumb rabbits sat comfortably around the cavern, not looking the least scared that four humans had just entered their warren, or even acknowledging their guests' arrival. Alan could see a dull, vague look in their eyes, almost as if they were in some sort of trance, further arousing his suspicions of Cowslip. His companions, on the other hand, were utterly fascinated by this palace of a warren.
"Plenty of does, good food and fine shelter too, if we wanted to move in," muttered Bigwig to Holly, staring in awe at all these healthy, well-fed rabbits. Their companions were staring hungrily at the pile of flayrah, drawling. After nearly two days on the road without a proper meal, they had worked up a ferocious appetite! The hospitable atmosphere of Cowslip's warren was quickly getting to their heads, making them forget the reason they'd come here in the first place.
"These rabbits must eat like El-ahrairah," Hazel whispered to Alan who nodded grimly, "Yes…like cows on a milking machine!" Before he could comment any further however, Cowslip spoke again, introducing them to his people.
"Friends, meet the latest additions to our warren," he announced in a sickly sweet voice, "Let's make them feel welcome! Show them our grand hospitality!" As if responding to a command, his rabbits turned to look at the newcomers, uttering words of warm welcome.
Unable to resist the temptation any longer, the rabbits joined in the feast, stuffing themselves like pigs – all, with the exception of Fiver, who stood aside, completely uninterested in eating, looking troubled.
"What is it, Fiver? What can you sense?" Alan asked his friend, who was shuddering violently, his eyes so wide, they seemed to grow larger than his head. He bent down and put a comforting arm around the young rabbit. Fiver huddled close to him like a frightened child.
"There is something bad lingering about this place. Something awfully bad…" But Alan calmed him.
"Never mind, laddie. Weknow what we're up against; we're in control here. Everything will be fine. Meanwhile, I need you to get a hold of yourself!" he whispered urgently, intent on not letting Cowslip notice Fiver's distress and getting suspicious. With great effort, Fiver managed to calm himself.
"I'll try, but I don't know how long I can put up with this," he murmured, "Please, Alan, let's just go!"
"We will, buddy, very soon. I promise."
After Fiver had calmed down somewhat, Alan also helped himself to dinner. No point keeping up pretences if he didn't follow his companions' example. The vegetables tasted raw and earthy, indicating that, wherever they came from, they weren't treated with fertilisers or pest repellents. An eco-friendly diet in every respect, made possible by the rich future flora, but nonetheless satisfying for even a human's ferocious appetite.
As part of his plan, Alan tried to get to know their hosts better. Soon, he found myself chatting with a chubby, ginger-furred buck with deep blue eyes, and his mate, a pale brown doe of equal size, both of which looked vaguely familiar… Of course! They were Strawberry and Nildrohein, two more characters from the book, the former of which would ultimately desert Cowslip and join Hazel's band.
Strawberry had come to Cowslip's warren as a kitten with a band of wandering hlessil and had settled down here after his parents died (or most likely taken by the snares, Alan assumed). His mate, Nildrohein was Cowslip's daughter, who had developed a close friendship with Strawberry, a friendship that had eventually blossomed into love.
"Have you always lived like this, Strawberry?"
Although both rabbits were friendly, Alan could see that eerie trance-like look in their eyes, which seemed to have some kind of hold over their minds, as they refused to answer where all this food had come from, or why they were being so hospitable to a band of strangers. Whatever Cowslip had done to silence them, he'd sure done a good job of it, thought Alan.
Remembering from the story, after Nildrohein was killed by a snare, a distraught Strawberry had finally seen the error of his ways and abandoned his easy life in favour of Hazel. He made a mental note of talking privately to Strawberry later on. Perhaps, he could be the key to the task of recruiting others, hopefully without having to watch his mate die this time round…
Later that night, after everyone was sound asleep, Alan got up and silently headed back outside, lighting his way with his flashlight, to initiate the next phase of the plan. Making sure he wasn't been followed, with the precision of a trained Special Forces soldier searching for hidden mines, he began a thorough search of the perimeter for any signs of snares. But, to his utmost surprise, there was nothing; not a single trace of any kind of man-made trap could be found anywhere.
Alan was puzzled. Perhaps he had been wrong after all? Maybe Cowslip's warren wasn't a death trap after all? Then again, where did all that good food come from when no one seemed to work and why did the elil stay away when there were a bunch of plumb rabbits living here? It just seemed too good to be true.
The first light of dawn was starting to appear on the horizon. Alan, all drenched in mud from poking around in the wet bushes, was feeling utterly exhausted. Deciding it was best to wait till morning, he turned to make his way back to the warren. It was only then that he realised he wasn't completely alone after all.
In the dim light, he noticed a small figure lying under a nearby tree, moaning. It was Fiver, who had apparently sneaked out as well, his non-ceasing feeling of danger being too overwhelming for him to sleep inside. The small buck lay curled up in a ball, moaning in his sleep, probably from a nightmare. Alan bent down and gently shook his little friend awake. Fiver awoke with a start, gasping at this large figure crouching over him but then calmed down when he realised who it was.
"What are you doing out here, Fiver?" asked Alan, gently patting the runt rabbit to calm him down, "You shouldn't be out here all alone at this hour… What's the matter?" Fiver looked scared stiff, but, as Alan soon found out, it wasn't from his premonition of some unseen danger shadowing them.
"I saw something terrible in my dream. Alan…I think you're in grave danger." Alan was stunned.
"Me? In grave danger?" he asked, suddenly feeling very alarmed. Despite being a level-minded academic and scientist – the likes of which often spared little thought for the supernatural –, Alan, unlike most of his companions, knew that Fiver's visions were not to be taken lightly. "What are you on about?"
As soon as he had calmed down, Fiver explained, "I saw you struck down by something that looked like…a bolt of lightning, before a deep black hole opened up in the ground and swallowed you up. It was terrible…" Alan held Fiver close, trying to calm him.
"It's all right, lad, I'm here and I'm fine. Everything's fine." But Fiver shook his head, "No, Alan, there's someone out there who won't rest until he's destroyed you."
In spite of his worrying thoughts, wondering who that mysterious foe after his blood could be, Alan was too tired to dwell on it just then. Picking him his little friend, he carried him back down to the warren. Making himself comfortable on the straw bedding of the burrow he was sharing with Derek, Robbins and McEwen, he drifted off into an uneasy sleep, Fiver curled up snugly beside him, neither of them realising that Alan's mysterious would-be killer lay sleeping only three feet away, dreaming of his own fiendish plans…
Alan woke up late the next morning, Fiver's vision from last night completely forgotten. Now that it was daylight, he realised, even though he was underground, there was surprisingly enough light to see his surroundings clearly, without the use of a flashlight. This peculiar phenomenon, he soon realised, was sunlight being reflected off the shiny murals that covered the walls of the burrows, bathing the whole warren in light.
Despite the 'elegance' of this place, it didn't take him long to realise how inconvenient the absence of common necessities could be. Although the warren provided food and shelter, it still lacked many things that made human life bearable. There was no bathroom, no telly, no coffee pot, or any of the luxuries humans took for granted. Even the simplest of things like electricity, running water and even furniture were entirely absent. His quarters consisted merely of an empty burrow, with some rough straw on the floor for bedding.
Realising how badly he smelt and the filthy condition of his clothes, he got up and headed outside, where his companions were out on morning silflay. After he'd washed in a nearby stream and even had a most painful shave, using his knife as a razor and some mud for cream, he took Derek, McEwen, Hazel, Bigwig, Holly and Fiver aside, out of earshot from Cowslip, for a private chat.
"Well?"
"There's nothing," said Alan, "No snares, no signs of hostile humans, nothing. I don't understand it…"
"Then perhaps you were mistaken?" asked Bigwig, "I knew that conspiracy theory of yours was a little too far-fetched to be true…" Alan was surprised; how could have Bigwig, who had been firmly on his side to infiltrate this place last night, suddenly decided to dismiss it altogether? Then again, how could he explain the obvious fact that there was apparently no danger? However, some still had good reason to be suspicious.
"I don't know, Bigwig," remarked Hazel, "I still don't trust Cowslip one bit. To be on the safe side, I suggest we stick to our plan and leave first chance we get…"
"And why in Frith's name should we do that?" snapped the mighty veteran incredulously, "If we're wrong, then maybe we should forget the plan altogether and settle down. I don't know about you, chaps, but I'm tired of wandering around the countryside like a lost hlessi. This place is like Frith's heaven and I see no reason why we should…"
"You're wrong Bigwig. This place is nothing but a vile death trap!" said Fiver, looking utterly horrified at the idea of settling down here. "We must go while we still can. Please!" Bigwig was beginning to get very frustrated, his short temper pushed to the limit.
"Oh no, not you too! Look, you and Alan may have been right about Sandleford, but that doesn't mean you're right about everything. We have to get on with our lives, not continue wandering around aimlessly like a band of outcasts…!" Some, however, also shared Hazel and Fiver's concerns.
"They have a point, Thlayli," said Holly, "I've tried talking to Cowslip; he won't give me a straightforward answer to anything. He's definitely hiding something from us, there's no doubt about it…" Bigwig however, only seemed to lose what little patience he had left at his former Captain's lack of support.
"Embleer Frith, I've heard enough of this nonsense! Cowslip's invited us all to stay and, by Frith, I think I will. Hawkbit, Dandelion, Speedwell and Buckthorn also agree with me. Now, if you duffers are too dumb to face facts, then you're free to continue on to whatever Frith-forsaken place Alan has promised you. But I've found my new home." He turned and stormed off. Alan couldn't believe what he had just heard.
"It appears Cowslip's influence is much stronger that I expected; he's somehow brainwashed them all against us…however that's done," he said, staring at the rest of their companions, happily enjoying their silflay out on the meadow, all sense of vigilance entirely forgotten. With the exception of Hazel, Fiver, Holly, Derek and McEwen, the others seemed to have, almost magically, embraced life at Cowslip's warren overnight.
"So what do we do now? We can't just press on and leave our friends behind!" exclaimed Fiver, "I don't care what Bigwig says; I don't trust Cowslip or his promises of a happy life one bit…"
"Then we must find the source of this mysterious influence he seems to have on their minds," said Alan, thinking hard, "That means, we have to find out exactly what Cowslip is hiding from us. How does he retain control over all these rabbits? There must be some way to put a stop to it."
"But how?" exclaimed Holly, "I don't think any of Cowslip's rabbits can be made to talk. Where do we even start looking?" Although, like Bigwig, Holly had also been utterly impressed by Cowslip's warren, after what had happened to Sandleford, he'd made a personal vow to trust Alan's judgement in future, "If you're so certain about Cowslip, wouldn't it be a lot easier to just corner him and force the truth out of him?"
"I'm afraid that would do more harm than good," said Alan, fearing that such a drastic solution would only enlarge the rift forming between them and their friends even more, "We need proof. I'm sure every rabbit here knows exactly what's going on but are too scared, or perhaps too brainwashed, to talk about it. Unless, of course, someone can somehow be tricked into talking…"
After leaving the others, Bigwig had returned to his silflay, feeling moody and bad-tempered. This newfound life was everything a rabbit could ever ask for and he wasn't about to give it up now. He knew how Fiver always had these crazy premonitions, but why should Alan indulge that little runt's every whim? Then again, given that human's tragic past, I wouldn't be surprised if he sees danger everywhere he goes, he thought with a smirk as he made himself comfortable in the grass, his stomach full.
As he lay snoozing in the sun, he suddenly noticed Pimpernel was gone, probably having wondered off again without realising and gotten lost. Cursing the others for not having someone watching him, he hurried into the woods, trying to pick up Pimpernel's trail. He couldn't have gone far, he thought.
As he was searching around in the trees, trying to pick up a scent, he was suddenly caught off-guard by some familiar voices coming from the direction of the graveyard. Making his way to the edge of the clearing, he spotted Robbins and Cowslip along amongst the tombstones, deep in conversation. What were those two up to? His suspicions aroused, Bigwig crept closer, his ears straining to eavesdrop.
"…So those wretches sought to deceive me," Cowslip was saying in his insane, sing-song voice, "I offer them shelter and food and they repay it with betrayal! But no matter, those troublemakers will soon realise the grave consequences of double-crossing me. They have no idea what they're up against..."
Bigwig narrowed his eyes, as it finally dawned on him that Cowslip had indeed been playing them false all along! Fiver had been right! And to make matters worse, Robbins was in on it too! He'd betrayed them! Struggling to stay calm, he continued to listen.
"I see we both share the same desire," said Robbins slyly, looking extremely pleased at Cowslip's reaction, "That's why I have a preposition for you. Listen carefully…" He whispered something into Cowslip's ear, who grinned in satisfaction. But Bigwig had already heard all he needed to hear. He sprang from his hiding spot, glaring at each of the two accomplices in turn.
"Caught in the act! And to think I was fool enough to trust you, Cowslip!" he growled at the pudgy rabbit, who flinched in fear, "And you have finally decided to show your true colours, Robbins? Why are you doing this? Why sell us out to this riff-raff?" he growled menacingly, staring at Robbins with narrowed eyes. The man, however, didn't flinch under Bigwig's stare. Cautiously, he drew his stun gun from his back pocket.
"If it's any of your business, you dumb oaf, I've some unfinished business to settle with your friend Alan!" he sneered coldly, before suddenly lunging forward and zapping Bigwig in the throat with the Taser. The burly veteran's eyes went wide, before he crumpled to the ground unconscious. Robbins gave him a nasty look, "Some nosy idiots never learn to mind their own business." He turned back to Cowslip.
"I'll take care of him. In the meantime, you start digging in front of those three headstones," he said, pointing at the three false graves that bore his name, as well as Alan and Derek's. Taking out a length of cord from his pocket, he fashioned it into a hangman's noose and brought it down towards Bigwig's neck…
Strawberry lay comfortably beside Nildrohein, as the happy couple lay snoozing in the sun. Suddenly, Alan loomed into view above him.
"Hi there. Sorry to disturb you, Strawberry. I was just wondering if you could show me around. I really don't know my way around here…" As he'd expected, Strawberry was delighted to give this new arrival a tour.
"Why, of course! At your service," he said. In his excitement however, he didn't notice the human activate the VOX mode on the walkie-talkie tucked into his belt, so that McEwen and the others could hear everything the ginger buck was saying to him from afar. He turned to Nildrohein, "Excuse me, my love, I'll be back soon."
Strawberry led Alan out on the meadow, which was dotted with scattered stone ruins, which Alan figured were the remains of Newtown Common. Square stone or brick outlines, which were the foundations of human dwellings, including McEwen's vanished home undoubtedly, could be seen protruding from the ground everywhere. The town itself was long gone, completely levelled and overrun by a blanket of sediment and vegetation, indicating the long passage of time.
Strawberry led Alan down a hole, which Alan recognised as the entrance to an old air raid shelter that had once stood in the town square. Preserved intact, this small underground room housed an impressive collection of human trinkets that Cowslip's rabbits had found amidst the ruins, which lay scattered in piles all around.
Alan could see many commonplace objects from his own time, including bottles, glasses, dishes, cutlery, watches, coins, parts of machinery, street signs, garden gnomes and other bits of non-degradable junk that had survived the passage of time. These trinkets formed an elaborate 'museum' of the long-gone human civilisation that the world had long forgotten.
"Nildrohein and I used to play here as kittens," Strawberry told Alan, "We used to have so much fun digging up all these strange, beautiful trinkets. I wonder what kind of magical creature made all this or what they're for," he said, staring at his reflection in a cracked mirror that stood propped up against the wall, playfully watching it 'imitate' his movements.
At the sight of all this junk, Alan saw the possibility of finding something useful. A sealed glass jar lying in a corner caught his eye. Forcing the hermetically sealed lid open, he found a familiar white, dust-like powder inside; it was baking soda, probably from someone's kitchen, all dried up into a crumbling lump, but otherwise well preserved by being sealed in an airtight container. Although obviously now useless for its original purpose, it was still a highly reactive nitrate, which could be useful for other things.
His first thought was finding the other necessary ingredients to make gunpowder. They had no firearms to defend themselves against the giant predators of this future world, not to mention the Efrafans. However, he didn't have any sulphur or charcoal handy, much less a gun, so the idea would have to wait. With Strawberry's back turned to him, Alan discreetly pocketed the jar, along with some other useful odds and ends he could find amidst the junk.
They resumed their tour. By now, Alan was beginning to lose hope of Strawberry giving him a lead into Cowslip's secret means of control over his people. So far, he wouldn't even acknowledge him as being a human, for crying out loud! It was almost as if Cowslip had somehow manipulated his people's minds in such a way, so that they were unable to even recognise a flesh-and-blood human standing before them, instead acting is if he were just another rabbit. But how was that done?
Strawberry led him to the edge of the woods, where there was a gathering going on. A strange, silvery-white rabbit stood atop a large stone, surrounded by a bunch of spectators, giving some kind of a speech.
"That's Silverweed, our mystic," said Strawberry, staring at the strange rabbit as if utterly mesmerised by him, "He entertains us with his beautiful rhymes and poems." Although Alan wasn't a particularly keen follower of poetry – with the possible exception of Burns or Coleridge, which his father used to read him as a boy –, reminding himself he still had a mission to do, he followed Strawberry over to the gathering for a closer look.
The rabbit-poet called Silverweed had a faraway look in his eyes, as he chanted his strange poetry aloud to his spectators. A glowing, glassy texture covered the rabbit's eyes, which gave Alan the creeps. Something was definitely off about this Silverweed character. Strawberry, on the other hand, appeared totally unconcerned as he eagerly joined in with the others – all of them, Alan noticed, were also glassy-eyed and in a trance-like state – as they recited the strange rabbit's gibberish in a lifeless, robot-like monologue. What was Silverweed doing to them?
"…Rain runs like a rabbit on its own; snow falls like a soft and silent stone; wind blows with a low and sorry moan. And this is all we have, we, who sleep and dream alone…"
At the sight of all these spectators standing as if hypnotised under the rabbit's gaze, Alan froze, suddenly remembering from the book: Silverweed was a mystic, like Fiver, with telepathic, mind-penetrating powers that allowed him to control others. In an instant, he understood: the reason these rabbits appeared so idle and content was because they were under Silverweed's spell! The psychic was manipulating their minds, mentally suppressing their instinctual sense of fear and curiosity, as well as their will to resist, and forcing them to embrace Cowslip's leadership. So that's what was happening to their friends! He had to warn the others!
Alan slowly started backing away, trying to keep a straight face so that Silverweed wouldn't notice him. Unfortunately, the mystic seemed to somehow sense Alan's alertness, as he suddenly turned to stare at him directly in the eyes.
Instantly, Alan felt a weird and highly unpleasant sensation inside his head, as the rabbit's supernatural sight penetrated his mind like a bullet. Unlike Fiver's innocent touch, Silverweed's was a violent, forceful invasion, much like a mind rape; the mystic was viewing his thoughts and memories like an open book! Alan quickly looked away to break the connection, but the damage was done.
"You… you're a time traveller! You're here to steal my Chief's people!" screamed Silverweed at the top of his lungs, "Master Cowslip! Help…!"
"Oh no, you don't!"
In an instant, Alan had lunged forward and clamped Silverweed's mouth shut with one hand, whilst holding him pinned against his chest with the other. The silvery white rabbit struggled violently in his grip but Alan held him firmly.
"Shut up or I'll wring your bloody neck! You hear?" he hissed into Silverweed's ear, who continued to struggle, his shouts muffled by Alan's hand. The threat proved pointless however, because the moment Silverweed's concentration had been broken, the spectators had instantly all snapped out of their trance, staring in utter terror at Alan, finally realising who – or rather what – he was.
"An ithe!" someone shouted, "Scatter!" In an instant, the terrified group of rabbits were fleeing in all directions, screaming bloody murder – all except Strawberry, who stood petrified with fear and confusion.
"What… You…you're an ithe?" muttered the orange buck, torn between utter disbelief and sheer terror. The realisation that this stranger before him was in fact a human had caught him completely off-guard! Alan, who was still struggling to restrain Silverweed, desperately tried to calm the frightened buck down, hoping he wouldn't run off until his backup – already alerted by the sound of the commotion over his walkie-talkie – arrived.
"It's all right, Strawberry. If you'll just let me explain…" But the ginger buck's natural fear of humans, revived by Alan's intervention, had won out and he turned to flee. With his entire plan about to be wasted, Alan knocked Silverweed unconscious with a rabbit punch, tossed him aside like a rag-doll and gave chase.
Despite being a rabbit – supposedly faster than humans – Strawberry's chubbiness and lack of physical fitness after years of idleness, worked to Alan's advantage. Soon, he'd caught up with Strawberry. Jumping onto the ginger buck, he pinned him to the ground. But Strawberry was still pretty big, much larger than the runty Silverweed, and could put up a pretty good struggle.
Alan was just about to lose his grip on him, when help finally arrived. Derek, Hazel, Holly, McEwen and Fiver, who had been following them at a safe distance on Alan's instructions, suddenly sprang from the bushes and managed to restrain the panicked buck just in time.
"You aren't going anywhere, you fat fur-ball! Now don't move!" Derek hissed, as they held him down. Hazel spoke softly, yet firmly, to Strawberry.
"Strawberry, please listen! We don't mean you any harm; we've come to get you and your friends out of this embleer place. You can join us on our journey to a new and better life on the high hills." Although intrigued at the mention of a life of freedom, Strawberry was utterly gobsmacked at the realisation that these strange hlessil and these talking ithel were in fact companions. He continued to stare fearfully at Alan.
"You're really an ithe?" he asked again, more perplexed than ever, like someone who'd just woken up from a deep sleep, but no less fearful, "But…how can you talk? How come I didn't realise sooner? Why did you attack Silverweed…?"
"He was under that little blighter's control," Alan explained, gesturing at the unconscious Silverweed lying nearby, "All of them were. He sensed that I was on to him and panicked, and forced me to retaliate; that broke his concentration and snapped them back to their senses. Not exactly a pleasant awakening, I'm afraid, when they saw me standing there…" Hazel turned back to Strawberry.
"Strawberry, what's going on here? Why would Cowslip have Silverweed brainwash you all, to keep you idle? What dirty secret is he hiding from us?" Although Alan figured Strawberry would try and lie to them, he hoped, in his confusion, the buck would accidentally let something slip. And indeed he did!
"I don't understand. How did you know about…?" He suddenly broke off, looking as if he had just swallowed his tongue. But Alan and the others had already heard all they needed to hear. They rounded on him.
"Keep talking," said Holly sharply, "There's no Cowslip around to threaten you anymore."
At first Strawberry seemed reluctant to speak, no doubt feeling severe retaliation from Cowslip; however, encouraged by their offer of a chance for a better life, or perhaps because Silverweed's dark influence had finally lifted from his mind, he finally spilled the beans.
"At sundown on every full Inle, ithel raid our warren – we never see them, because we're always asleep ("The work of Silverweed, no doubt," remarked Alan), but we know they're there. When we wake up, some of us have vanished and there's a fresh supply of flayrah left outside for us. Cowslip says that's the price we must pay for our good life and we should accept it with dignity. He forbids us to speak the names of those missing again and expects us to forget they existed. Those who defy him are quickly silenced. He forces us to listen to Silverweed until we lose our will to stand up to him…" He broke down sobbing in shame and self-pity.
"Their own minds stolen away, so they could forget their fear," muttered Fiver grimly, as the truth finally became clear, "Sick…"
"So this is why Bigwig and the others were so quick to accept Cowslip's hospitality, despite knowing there was danger," said Holly, "But how come we weren't bewitched too?"
"That's because it's not magic," explained Alan, always the scientist, "Silverweed's a telepath, who can tap into your mind. He doesn't forcibly control you like a puppet; instead, he simply suppresses everyone's thoughts of fear, much like a soothing drug, until they're resigned to the illusion of a non-existent carefree and bountiful life, until it's too late. The others must have been exposed to him somehow…" Holly suddenly gasped in realisation.
"By Frith, he's right! This morning, while you were still asleep, there was an entertainment event hosted by that rabbit Silverweed during silflay. Fiver refused to attend and ran off; Hazel and I had to go after him, so we were left out. When we came back, Bigwig and the others appeared much more content, almost indifferent. I thought they were just being careless... Our friends were all being manipulated right under our noses and we didn't even realise!"
"No wonder Fiver couldn't stand being in that place," Hazel put in, "He could sense Silverweed's dark presence lingering among us, threatening to consume us all." They all stared proudly at the little seer, who was beginning to feel a little embarrassed at finding himself in the spotlight for the first time in his life.
Finally, it all made perfect sense: these 'humans' Strawberry spoke of supplied Cowslip's rabbits with food and defended their warren from danger, literally breading them like cattle; on every full moon, they'd come and pick the best of their 'livestock' for food, not unlike like the Morlocks did the Eloi in the Time Machine. Cowslip was offering up his own people as sacrificial lambs for slaughter!
Suddenly, Alan remembered that tonight was the next full moon, time for another raid. They had to leave here before sundown, or they'd be caught in the attack! With a sense of utmost urgency kicking in, he turned back to his companions.
"There's no time to lose. Strawberry, you go and get Nildrohein and as many of your friends as you can persuade to join us. Deke, you and McEwen go back to the warren and get all the food you can carry. The rest of you, go round up the others. I imagine they'll all have come to their senses by now. But first," he said, gesturing at the unconscious Silverweed, "Let's take care of him, before we fall victim to another of his little tricks!"
Using some duct-tape from the crash-kit, they bound and gagged Silverweed, and even slapped another piece over his eyes so his mind-penetrating powers wouldn't function. He would be able to free himself after a few hours of painful work and tell Cowslip what had happened – only they would be long gone by then. They moved him under some nearby bushes and out of sight and returned to the warren.
The Hall of Bones was empty, save for their bewildered companions, most of Cowslip's rabbits having fled or else barricaded themselves inside their burrows in fear after Silverweed's influence had lifted from their minds. Cowslip was nowhere to be seen. Strawberry wasted no time and admitted Cowslip's scheme to the whole group, continuously apologizing and begging their forgiveness.
Hazel's group were shocked and outraged at the revelation that they'd been under a spell, lined up for slaughter, but at least had the decency to take pity on Strawberry by allowing him and Nildrohein to come with them. By the time the explanations were over, there wasn't a single rabbit not eager to see the last of this place as soon as possible. It was only then that they realised something was up.
"We've got a problem," said Derek, returning with McEwen, their rucksacks and pockets bulging with groceries they'd snatched from the warren's larder, "We can't find Robbins anywhere; Bigwig is nowhere to be seen either." Alan frowned; how could they lose someone right from under their noses?
"I'll go find them. They can't be far," he said, "Hazel, you and Fiver come with me. The rest of you, wait for us here. The moment we come back, we hit the road. All right, let's move!" Leaving the others to try and persuade some more of Cowslip's rabbits to join them, the trio left the warren, in search of Robbins and Bigwig.
Alan kept staring at the slowly setting sun on the horizon, estimating how much time they had left before nightfall. Probably another hour if they were lucky, maybe less. They needed to make haste.
It didn't take them long to pick up Bigwig's trail, which led back towards the graveyard; Cowslip and Robbins' tracks were also found nearby, indicating Bigwig had been following them for some reason. What were they up to? The answer was waiting only a short distance away, in the form of something hanging from a tree…something alive. The three of them gasped at the horrible sight.
"Bloody hell!"
It was Bigwig, hanging from a length of cord tied in a noose around his neck. His enormous weight was causing the thin wire to squeeze his windpipe shut, almost cutting through his flesh, strangling him to death. The mighty veteran was twitching and gagging, droplets of blood and saliva trickling out of his open mouth, his flapping tongue turning blue from asphyxia, as the last flicker of life faded from his bloodshot eyes.
Like lightning, Alan sprang into action. Hurrying over, with a swing of his knife, he cut the cord, letting Bigwig's limp form fall to the ground. They turned him over and quickly removed the remaining length of cord still wrapped tightly around his neck, so he could breathe. Bigwig however didn't stir.
"No, no, no…!"
Alan desperately checked Bigwig for any signs of life. Although his neck hadn't been broken, it seemed they were already too late. Hazel and Fiver stood petrified, staring in silent horror at their brave comrade's lifeless body. But Alan wasn't giving up yet; pinching the buck's nostrils shut, he began giving Bigwig mouth-to-mouth and heart massage, performing emergency CPR.
"What in Frith's name are you doing to him?" cried Hazel incredulously, as they watched Alan furiously pounding on Bigwig's torso and blowing down his throat, seemingly desecrating their friend's body.
"When someone's heart has stopped, sometimes you can restore its beating by doing this and bring him back," Alan panted as he continued pounding furiously at Bigwig's heart and giving him rescue breathes at a steady pace, "Come on, Bigwig old chap, breathe!" But Bigwig still didn't respond. Exhausted, Alan gave up.
"Oh, Frith, my heart has joined the Thousand," muttered Hazel, he and Fiver lowering their heads sadly in respect for their fallen comrade, "My friend stopped running today." Alan felt overwhelmed with grief and anger.
"I'm so sorry, Hazel. It's all my bloody fault; I shouldn't have brought you here!" he muttered grimly, feeling downright awful. First his wife and daughter, and now Bigwig's blood was on his hands too. If it hadn't been for his stupid plan to infiltrate Cowslip's warren, this never would have happened. He half-expected his friends to start yelling at him, accusing him of Bigwig's death; instead, Hazel placed a comforting paw on the man's shoulder.
"There's no point blaming yourself, Alan. We all volunteered for this at our own risk, even Bigwig… But, who'd do this?" It was only then that the trio realised there was something very suspicious going on here. Alan picked up the discarded cord and examined it.
"This is no hunter's snare; it's a strangulation wire used by hit men, and an illegal gimmick too I might add. Now where did this come from…?" The evidence that the murder weapon used on Bigwig was in fact of 21st century origin, and thus not the work of Cowslip's custodians, made the identity of the culprit fairly obvious: Robbins!
"I should have known better than to let that lying scoundrel out of my sight!" At the realisation that Robbins had committed such a vile and brutal act against a member of their own group, Alan's grief gave way to fury, intent on seeing justice done. He spoke into his walkie-talkie.
"Derek, McEwen, do you read me?"
"What the hell's keeping you?" came Derek's voice, "Tensions are mounting like hell back here…" Alan turned his volume up so Derek could hear him loud and clear, "Shut up, Deke, and listen! There's been some trouble. We think Robbins has killed Bigwig…"
"What the bloody hell are you on about?"
"I said, Robbins's double-crossed us! I want you and McEwen to keep a sharp lookout in case he comes back and make sure everyone stays within sight of each other. We're going to search the graveyard." Ignoring Derek's protests, he turned to his companions.
"He can't have gone far. Come on, we're going to find that bastard and take him down!"
They moved on, intent on getting Robbins before he could get to someone else. However, in their haste, none of them realised the seemingly lifeless body they had left behind was in fact still breathing. Unbeknownst to Alan, the CPR he'd applied had succeeded in kindling the last spark of life in Bigwig's heart. The mighty veteran, pulled from the brink of death, was slowly regaining consciousness…
They approached the graveyard, vigilant and cautious. Alan kept muttering threats and curses under his breath, "Very well, Mr Robbins. So you want to keep your secret so badly? Then you can take it with you to the grave when I'm done with you!"
The graveyard appeared deserted. No sign of the murderer anywhere. However, there was something else. Alan could see the three false graves bearing their names had been exhumed; three armoured metal cases stood open beside each pit. Peering inside one, he saw something that nearly took his breath away.
Lying inside each case on some old packing straw was a warhead-like device, divided into two adjacent segments: a pointed-tipped cobalt shell housing some sort of nuclear core and another, can-shaped component, resembling a detonator, attached to its base, fitted with a blinking control-pad in Cyrillic characters. These scuba-tank-sized apparatuses bore no identification serial number of any kind; only a distinct crest engraved onto their lime-green shells: a red hand held in a stop gesture. They were staring at the three lost unobtainium warheads Red Hand had smuggled into the country centuries ago, having finally turned up in the most unexpected of hiding places – their own empty graves!
Alan stared thunderstruck at the devices, feeling his blood run cold at the sight of these weapons of mass destruction sitting live and dangerous in their cases. Any layman who had lived through the Third World War knew of the destructive power of unobtainium, mined on the Moon during the Chinese space program of the early 2000s, and then used in their militia's weapons program, reducing half of Asia, as well as most of the southern English coastline, to a wasteland.
"Alan, what are these?" asked Hazel, who, despite his ignorance of human weaponry, could tell they had stumbled across something extremely dangerous.
"We're in deep trouble, Hazel…"
"I'd say that's a slight exaggeration."
Turning, they saw Robbins standing with his back against a nearby tree, expecting them. There was a chilling sneer on his face. Beside him stood Cowslip, his usually well-groomed white fur coated in dirt from, what appeared to have been, some heavy digging, but otherwise looking very pleased with himself. Alan might have known that rascal was also in on this, he thought. He glared at the evil pair.
"What's the meaning of this, Robbins? And what the hell did you do to Bigwig?" The man, finally showing his true colours, laughed cruelly.
"That nosy oaf should have minded his own business. But let's take one question at a time, shall we?" he said in a sickly sweet voice, sinister as that of the Devil himself, "You've arrived just in time to admire this little 'inheritance' left behind by my old Red Hand friends, waiting for the right person to come along and claim it." He gestured at his deadly prize, "Behold the unobtainium cores which form the heart of Black Inferno – the ultimate breakthrough in the history of all weaponry!"
Author's note: The character Silverweed in this story is borrowed from the TV series, since his role here is much more important here than in the book. Do enjoy and please review so I can update. Thank you!
