Away

by KhallieGurl

Ratatouille. M'kay, I know the title's lame, but I couldn't think of anything else. Just a story I cooked up inside my head one day. Ha. Cooked. Pun. Basically the gist of the story is that Remy's missing, but you'll have to read to find out more! :.

14. Chapter 14

Short chapter, I know. But the story's NOT OVER YET!! Another cliffhanger type-thing, I know, but Chapter 15 will be up soon!!

Away 14

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For a second, all was silent. The echo of the gunshot was the only thing that could be heard.

Then the police captain turned furiously on Jacques.

"Tell me, Jacques, do you know what you were firing at?"

"Well, s-sir, uh, it looked like…it looked like a rat."

"Andwhy were you firing at a rat?"

"I-I was startled, sir…"

"As far as I know, Jacques, that rat chewed some kind of tunnel into the store and set off the alarm system when it was walking around. You do not shoot at things that are simply moving, and you do not waste bullets on a rat."

"M-my apologies, sir."

"You're going to need more than an apology to make up for this one."

With that, the captain turned to the crowd.

"Everyone, it seems that the alarm system was nothing more than a fluke. A rat got in and accidentally set it off, and there's nothing more in that store. Everyone can go home."

The crowd started mumbling, some of the younger people saying what a disappointment it was and the older people complaining about how much more efficient the Police Nationale were in their day.

Only Linguini stood there, not moving. Not able to move, trying to register what had just happened.

Was Little Chef gone…?

No, Little Chef couldn't be gone. It was impossible. He just couldn't.

But as he stared at the cart, he realized that it was. The red on the sidewalk that almost made him gag confirmed it.

Linguini forced himself to move closer, hoping against hope that Little Chef might just come running out from under the bottom of the cart, completely unharmed.

But he knew this wouldn't happen.

Little Chef's brother knew, too. Linguini could tell from the way he was sagging in the pocket, his little head poking through the top, searching for the same thing as Linguini.

Linguini was about to turn away, defeated, when the wind ruffled the pages of Little Chef's book.

He picked it up and turned to the cover.

Parti avec le Vent.

Gone with the Wind.