CHAPTER 8—in which not much action occurs, but sets the stage for Chapter 9, which (hopefully) is much better.

Author's Note: I'm sorry. I haven't written in…what, years? I've been busy with school, and such. Upperclassman-ship is simply insane. But I'm back! And now…

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CALVIN AND HOBBES, NOR ANYTHING ELSE THAT PERTAINS TO THE STRIP.

Elvenking, Jhomeboy, and Dannor: You guys still around? (I hope so.) Elvenking, I like your idea.

AZ: Your request has been duly noted and fed to my pet Balrog.

Tacomaster: No need to explode. The newest installment hath finally arrived. p

Phycobabbler: Nah, AZ didn't really bother me much. I'm guessing I kinda forgot about for a while. blames schoolwork Oh, and for the record, I'm female(not a dude. ;) )

Mcekul: I like that idea too. I might somehow merge it with Elvenking's idea.

- - -

"Let…GO!" Susie shrieked, kicking frantically at Crow's shins as he dragged her through the hallways. Not that her short legs were capable of spanning the distance to his, of course. Crow looked down at her in slight amusement. "Do you really think that's going to help? GIRL?" He gave a harsh pull and jerked her to his feet. "Get up. We're here." He stopped at the door at the end of the hallway and knocked.

"Come in."

Susie tightened her grip on Mr. Bun as Crow pushed the door open and pulled her inside. The room she saw was…unimpressive, at best. And tacky. On the walls were hung grisly murals depicting roadkill, humans mauled by tigers, and such—all of which looked like they had been drawn by a preschooler, Susie thought. They were framed in red, orange, or black. And in the center of the room sat a rather gangly man, a paper hat perched on his head. Tacky indeed.

"Good job, Crow," he said.

Crow smiled, revealing his yellow teeth. "Thank you."

Without success, Susie attempted to wrench her arm free again. "I'll…I'll tell my parents. I'll have them sue you! You'll be fined, and they'll throw you in—"

"Quiet!" the man on the chair snarled. "Crow, lock her in one of the storage rooms. I'll decide her fate later."

- - -

The farther they ran, the thicker the woods became. Calvin finally collapsed onto the ground, breathing heavily. "I'm hungry."

"Me too." Hobbes sat down next to him and rubbed his stomach. "I want a tuna sandwich."

Calvin grunted and rolled over.

After a while, Hobbes broke the silence. "I wonder if they have any tuna at the G.R.O.S.S. headquarters. I—"

"Oh no, you don't! Come on, there's got to be a city or something. Somewhere." Calvin lurched to his feet and began walking again. Hobbes followed wearily, muttering under his breath. How completely idiotic. The thought flashed across his mind for a moment. Here I am, running from the very club I started. He sighed, flicked a mosquito away, and concentrated once more on moving his legs. They seemed to grow heavier by each step he took. And his lungs felt ragged. If he wasn't going to die of starvation, he'd certainly exhaust himself to death first.

Calvin and Hobbes stopped after a few minutes and sat down again—when Hobbes's whiskers suddenly twitched. "Calvin?"

"What?"

"I smell something."

"Gosh. You're just imagining things. I hear you start hallucinating when you're starving to death…"

"My nose is never wrong." Hobbes retorted. "Let's see who's right." He sprang up and dashed off.

"Stupid tiger. …hey, wait!"

Countless bruises and cuts later, Calvin found Hobbes crouching behind a rock. "Well?"

"Look."

Calvin peered out from behind the rock. A large building stood where the trees and plants had been cleared out, and near it were several large vehicles that resembled trucks. Workers transported boxes and cans from the side wing of the building to the trucks. "I smell tuna…and PBJ. And…lots of…food…" Hobbes's eyes glazed over. "I'll bet this is where they process or can food or something."

"Maybe for G.R.O.S.S."

"Maybe. But come on, it's food we're talking about. Let's go around to the back and se if we can find anything."

Calvin slowly nodded.

Taking care to stay within cover of the trees, they skirted around the clearing. Hobbes loped on ahead of Calvin, who slowly began to lag behind. It irked Calvin, but he decided against yelling this time. The back of the building slowly grew visible. Several large windows were open, and this time he detected the aroma as well. Tuna had never smelled so good…

A yellow-orange streak zipped toward the building and back. The next moment, Calvin was dimly aware of Hobbes bowling him over and burying his face in the dirt. He sat up dizzily, trying to wipe the dirt off but spreading it all over his face in the process. "Mangy fuzzball," he hissed and lunged at Hobbes.

Hobbes leaped out of the way. "I thought you'd be happy to know that I've finally procured some food."

"Really?"

Grinning, Hobbes set two small boxes down on the ground. Calvin took it and looked inside to find several cans of tuna. The other contained some sort of beverage he was unfamiliar with. "I guess I'll have to put up with those," he finally said. "Now we need to figure out a plan."

"A plan for what?"

"For going back."

"Oh. Yeah…I miss our house, I guess…"

"Sheesh."

- - -

The storage unit was uncomfortable. The air was close and stuffy, and smelled of mildew. Susie had lost track of time already. They still had not fed her (she didn't know if they would, anyway), and she had not even heard a single sound outside. She found herself "conversing" with Mr. Bun to pass the time.

"Those were very nasty people, weren't they, Mr. Bun?"

"Mr. Bun, would you like some tea?"

"I hate this place. Don't you? …yes, I thought so. Do you have any idea how we could escape?"

"Oh yes, I think scraping on the walls with my nails is a wonderful idea! Mr. Bun, you're a—oh, I'm going crazy." Susie leaned back against the wall and swallowed a sob. "I wonder how long it'll take before I go completely insane."

The door slid open. Susie opened her eyes and was immediately disappointed to see Crow again.

"We've decided what to do with you," Crow said in that flat voice which Susie had quickly grown to hate. "Come with me."

-To be continued