You've waited entirely too long to have to deal with a rambling author's note first. That'll be at the end if you're interested. Otherwise, here we go!
Oh, and I do not own DuckTales. If I did, I would apparently have a much more consistent release schedule.
Chapter 5~There's a Stranger out to Find You!
"Grab the red one!"
Webby took in a slow, deliberate breath, just like Granny had taught her to always do before getting into a fight, and let her senses take in all the necessary surroundings:
At least twenty Beagle Boys. Probably more out of sight. Polyurethane wheels on concrete—where are the Taquitos? Louie's stance is off. We'll have to work on that once we get out of this. Three carnival tents, the merry-go-round, and seven game stands. Smells like burnt sugar, diesel, and weirdly sweet garbage. Who taught Dewey how to make a fist? Two closed-up food trucks. The ticket booth looks shut down, too. I shouldn't be able to hear the elephants from here. Where did all the people go?
This thought made Webby to do a double take: Where did all the other people go? She was reasonably sure the spectator stands had been at least half-full during the show. Now though, aside from the four of them and the entirely-too-many Beagle Boys, there didn't seem to be a single person in the fairgrounds. Which was unfortunate because, as much as Webby was loath to admit it, there were just too many of them. They could really use a hand right now.
"Huey?" Dewey said, brows furrowing. "Why ju—"
He was cut off when Big Time's snarl broke into a full-on roar, the short man charging at the children. Webby reflexively lunged forward, landing both feet squarely on his sternum and digging her feathers into his shoulders. The man yowled and moved to grab her, but Webby kicked off of his chest and deftly leapt backwards. A sharp pain under her left rib prevented her from landing the back handspring she had attempted, but she did succeed in knocking the brute to the ground. Louie helped Webby hastily up from where she had landed while Big Time roared again, this time with real malice behind it.
"What're you idiots waitin' for?" he growled. "Somebody grab him!"
"Guys," Webby said, grabbing Huey's hand with her free one, "I think that's our cue to run." She turned around quickly and started to sprint, yanking the two boys to follow behind her. Louie yelped in protest but ran along with her nonetheless. She turned her head to make sure Dewey was keeping up like she hoped and flashed him a smile when she saw he was less than a metre behind her. Unfortunately, this meant she also noticed that the Glam Yankees were gaining on them.
She increased their pace and went to take her next left, but hurriedly spun on her heel when she saw the 6th Avenue Meanies advancing slowly yet menacingly in their direction. The path on the right that they took instead curved sharply, leading them to a dead end. She dropped Huey and Louie's hands as they all came to an abrupt stop.
"Come on!" she said as she hastily yanked up the canvas bottom of the large tent wall they had run into. She quickly ushered the boys in before skidding under the fabric herself and hurriedly smoothing it back out, hopefully getting rid of any sign that they'd been there. At least we don't have to worry about our footprints on the concrete. She shushed the triplets firmly and closed her eyes to focus on what she could hear.
Louie was doing a good enough job of breathing silently, but Huey and Dewey were panting. It was hard to believe they were already out of breath, but, now that she thought about it, she supposed they had both seemed kind of tired today. She was pretty sure Dewey had been nodding off during the performance earlier. She reached up to put a hand on each of their beaks and tried to make eye contact with the both of them, but in the darkness it was hard to tell if it made a difference. She took deep, purposeful yet quiet breaths until both boys were doing the same. It was still louder than she was happy with, but it seemed to do the trick.
"Wha'd'ya mean, you lost 'em?" an overly exaggerated New Stork accent asked outside the tent.
"I swear to Ma, they ran right this way!" said another voice, which she thought she maybe recognized as either Bungle or Bottle.
"Well, they ain't here now, is they?" asked another Beagle. This was followed by the sound of what Webby assumed was Bottle (or Bungle) getting smacked across the back of his head. "C'mon, let's split up and find those brats."
Webby listened intently as the three sets of footsteps faded into the distance and then gave a thumbs up once she was sure there was no one in earshot.
"Why do they only want Huey?" Dewey asked in a hushed voice.
"Dewey, are you seriously jealous that you aren't the target of this specific kidnapping attempt?" Huey whispered loudly.
"It's not that," he said, "I just think it's weird that they specifically want you."
"Sounds a lot like jealousy, Dewford," Louie said, pulling out his phone and using it to add a bit of light to the dim enclosure.
"I'm not jealous!" Dewey insisted, though Webby wasn't entirely convinced herself. "It's just weird. Why Huey? I thought Webby was the one Ma Beagle had the grudge against."
"Maybe they're still mad at you for whatever you did to cheese them off on 'Only Child Day'," Louie suggested.
"Or maybe Tim and Timbo told Ma Beagle what an excellent leader I am and now she wants to ask me for advice on child rearing!" Huey retorted, voice starting to rise. Webby shushed him again.
"Tim and Timbo?" Louie whispered, lifting his eyebrows.
"Bouncer and Burger," Huey said with a huff, "and they weren't even upset with me! In fact, they wanted me to replace Big Time as their new big brother."
"You seem oddly proud of this, Huey," said Dewey.
"And you seem oddly upset that you're not the one they're trying to kidnap, Dewey!" Huey snapped, ripping his hat off in frustration. Apparently he'd left his guidebook at home today.
"Guys, this really isn't the time," Webby said. "Can we talk about why they're specifically after Huey once we get you all back to the manor?" She tried to bring a tone of authority to her voice in the hope that it would make Huey, Dewey, and Louie feel like she was much more confident and in control of the situation than she actually was. Although Granny had never explicitly told her so, Webby knew that she, Webby Vanderquack, was personally entrusted with keeping the Duck boys, heirs to Clan McDuck, out of harm's way. Granny was Scrooge McDuck's personal undercover bodyguard, so it only made sense that, as her granddaughter, Webby was entrusted with doing the same for Scrooge's grandnephews. Obviously. The logic followed.
"Fine," Dewey said, rolling his eyes. "Does anyone have a plan?"
"Louie," Huey said, "can you call someone for help? Uncle Scrooge is probably still sleeping, but how about Launchpad or Uncle—"
"Don't you think I've been trying?" the youngest triplet said, flashing his screen in Huey's face. "I'm not getting any service."
"Okay, so that's a priority then," Webby said. "Next up: Does anyone remember where the exit is?"
"No, but I do remember the security guard saying it was the only way in or out of the fairgrounds," said Huey, moving to put his hat back on.
"Huey, wait," Webby said, the beginnings of an idea starting to take shape in her mind. "Don't put that back on."
"Why not?" he asked. The three of them looked at her quizzically.
"I might have an idea," she said, reaching out to mess up his neatly combed feathers. The boys wore matching looks of confusion, but once she backed up and took another look at them, she was reasonably certain that her plan was going to work. Probably. Their chances were pretty good.
"Louie," she asked, "are you wearing a t-shirt under there?"
"Uh, no?" he said "It's, like, eighty degrees today."
"Okay, um… roll up your sleeves then."
"Why?" he asked her.
"We don't have time for this," she said, moving to cuff his left sleeve until it was just over halfway up his wing. It looked kind of bulky, but maybe? From a distance? "Like that," she said, gesturing to his other sleeve and moving behind him. "Huey, tuck in your collar."
"Sure thing, but do you wanna fill us in on your plan?"
"It's not so much a plan as it is a potential advantage we can work with, which would be really useful seeing as they have us so outnumbered," Webby said while folding Louie's hood into the back of his sweatshirt as evenly as possible. "You see, dogs are colour blind," she started.
"So, like, they see in black and white?" Dewey asked.
"No, they can see blue and yellow just fine," Webby said, taking a step back and squinting. "But, in theory, red and green should look the same." She decided to muss both of their hair feathers a bit more. She figured that that was probably as good as it was going to get and took a step back. "Well, what do you think?"
"Your hair looks ridiculous," Louie said, crossing his arms.
"Your arms look like marshmallows," Huey remarked snidely. Louie scowled in response.
"I think you did a great job, Webbs," said Dewey, tilting his head to the side. "Whatever it is you're trying to do."
"Well, they're after Huey, right?" she said. The red triplet gave a small nod. "They said they're splitting up to look for you. If they can't tell who's who, hopefully we can make their job a whole lot harder."
"That actually isn't a terrible plan," Louie said.
"I'm not done," Webby continued. "Now, I don't know if they can actually smell you or if that's just a mean thing that people say, but just in case," she said, grabbing Huey's hat from where he'd put it down and handing it to Dewey, "I want you to take that."
"Can Dewey!" he said, saluting. His brothers rolled their eyes.
Webby smiled. "Okay, part two: You three split up, but Huey, make sure you stay close enough that I can get to you right away. We have to try to find the exit, or literally anyone else who can help us. There have to be other people here right?" she asked. "What about the guys who were running the game stands?"
"Actually," Louie said sheepishly, "now that I think about it, I'm pretty sure those were just Beagle Boys without their masks on."
Huey groaned, "And you didn't recognize them?"
"Hey, neither did you!" he retorted. "I mean, they were just so friendly and well-dressed."
"The 6th Avenue Friendlies," Webby said, smacking her forehead. "And I bet the Tumblebums were in the performance we watched."
"Was this whole thing a setup?" Dewey asked.
"Probably," Louie muttered.
"Okay, Louie: I want you to keep checking your phone. As soon as you have reception, get out the SOS. Dewey," Webby turned to him, "how do you feel about climbing on the tops of these tents?"
His eyes were all but sparkling. "It's what I was born to do."
"All right, well, I want you to get a bird's eye view and see if you can let us know if we're going to get ambushed. Yell if you notice anything helpful, and see if you can find us a clear path to the exit."
Louie down looked at himself and then at Huey apprehensively. "I dunno, I'm not sure I like thi—"
"In here, I think I smell something!" a muffled voice cut him off from the other side of the tent.
"It's time to go," she said urgently, lifting the canvas again and peering out. When she was reasonably confident that the coast was clear—for now—she motioned for the boys to get out. "Huey, I don't want to lose sight of you for more than fifteen seconds. Dewey, Louie: Give 'em something to chase. And if either of you get caught, just let them know they have the wrong brother."
"Here's hoping they care about doing their job right as much as you think they do," Louie said, again checking his phone before shoving it back into his pocket.
"Would you wanna disappoint Ma Beagle by bringing back the wrong triplet?" Dewey asked, jumping to clamber up the back of the tent with the lowest roof.
"That's a fair point," Huey said. After watching Dewey slide down the side twice, he and Webby moved to give him a boost.
"Nailed it!" he cried. He stood triumphantly atop the yellow and blue striped tent and surveyed the area. "Okay, so, you're clear as far as I can see in this direction, and that way… ," Dewey turned to look behind him. "Oh no, oh shoot, they see me. Time to run, guys!" he smirked, saluting again and turning to jump to the next tent.
"Be on the lookout for the Taquitos and keep an eye on the Déjà Vus!" Webby yelled to him.
"I have no idea what that means but okay!" he shouted as he leapt for the next tent, and then he was out of sight.
"Okay," she nodded to the remaining two brothers, "time to split up and run. Shout if you find anything and we'll rendez-vous at the exit. Everyone keep making lots of noise. Good luck!"
"Stay. Away. From. My. Friend!" Webby wailed, punctuating each word with sharp jabs on either side of the large Meanie's jaw.
She had just barely been in earshot when she'd heard the desperate "Guys! Webby! Help!", bolting as quickly as she could in direction of the panicked cry. Louie had been being held nearly six feet off the ground by the hood of his sweatshirt by the time she'd arrived, grasping at its neckline to keep it from choking him.
"Any…time now, Webby," he'd wheezed. Webby had moved quickly though, and she had kicked the large brute's legs out from under him before Louie'd had a chance to finish his sentence. Louie'd stood up from where he'd been dropped and dusted some dirt off of himself before he'd turned, wide-eyed, to Webby. "I change my mind," he'd said, "I no longer like this plan."
Of course, there had barely been a minute to catch their breath before the largest of the Meanies had gotten back to his feet and grabbed for the boy. This had been what had triggered Webby to lunge at the man, fists flying and knocking him back to the ground. He tried to wrestle her off, but she was far too quick for him. He may have been stronger than the small girl but he was at a clear disadvantage, him pinned to the ground and her standing on his chest and pulling no punches.
Well, maybe pulling a few punches. She only wanted to incapacitate the guy.
"Guys!" she heard Louie say while she continued to subdue the man. "Level with me here! We all know you fellas are much too smart to fall for the dumb twin con. Look: Hoodie, long sleeves, no hat?" he gestured at himself, yanking his left sleeve loose. The two men had him backed against the fairground fence, which was unfortunately too smooth to hope to climb. "You got the wrong guy!"
"Wrong guy?" said the shortest of the trio, cracking his knuckles. "You remember somethin' about a 'wrong guy', Back Alley?"
"I dunno, Bite-Size," said the taller man in the trench coat, sneering as he met Louie's gaze. "Looks like the right guy to me."
"Come on," Louie said, a hint of desperation creeping into his voice as he was unable to get more distance between himself and the menacing Beagles in front of him, "I'm trying to help you here! Your Ma don't exactly take kindly to mistakes, does she?"
This seemed to give the Beagles pause. They had been advancing slowly in a manner that had clearly been meant to intimidate the young boy, but they momentarily stopped in their tracks to share an uncertain look. These few seconds of hesitation gave Webby her chance to sneak up behind them. She launched herself upwards and landed on Back Alley's shoulders, her sudden weight making the tall man to stumble to his knees. She then banged their two heads together, the dull thunk causing the grown men to slump dazedly to the ground.
"Let's go!" she said, urgently taking Louie by the hand and yanking him into a sprint. "I doubt they'll be down for long."
"You don't have to tell me twice," Louie responded, pulling his hand back and pushing himself to keep up. "Why did we think this would work again?"
"Do you have any better ideas?" Webby asked, turning another corner. Louie rolled his eyes but didn't say anything. "Any luck with your phone?"
He shook his head, breathing steadily. "I was able to get through to Uncle Donald once, but it went to voicemail."
Webby groaned in frustration. Her plan had not been going quite as well as she'd hoped. Not only were they still no closer to finding the way out—which, seriously, should not be this difficult—but the Beagle Boys really could not have caught them at a worse time. Webby and the boys had been stuffing themselves with carnival treats for hours, and she was feeling bloated and sluggish and most definitely not in top form. She was already beginning to feel yet another cramp shooting through her left side, which she knew was probably due to exerting herself so much on a full stomach. Her throat was desert dry; had she even drank actual water today?
And if she was feeling this bad, she could only imagine how the boys were doing. She'd had to hide Huey under one of the food trucks when he'd lost his footing while they were running from two different sets of Beagles and he'd had a hard time getting back up. She'd hoped the stench of grease would cover his scent. He'd apologized profusely after his fall, but he had been so breathless at the time that he had been struggling to get the words out. Webby'd told him to "wait here" and "catch your breath" and "I'll be right back", because it had been about at that time that she'd heard Louie's desperate call for help.
For his part, the triplet in the hoodie looked utterly miserable. Still, he seemed at the very least to be keeping it together better than his brothers.
A sudden thump to their left made Webby spin her head around, and she felt even more disheartened when she saw the small duck who had landed there on the pavement. She'd never seen Dewey fail a three-point landing before, but this time he had missed it entirely, twisting his wing as he'd awkwardly tumbled forwards. Webby noted the shadows under his eyes as he tentatively flexed the wrist he had incorrectly landed on, red hat still in its grip. She didn't know why the boys were so tired today, but they really could not have picked a worse time for it.
Dewey rubbed his shoulder as he got up, shaking himself as if the fatigue were something he could will away if he tried hard enough. He drew himself up to his full height and put his hands on his hips while a grin spread across his beak. "Guess what I finally found?"
"If the answer is anything other than the exit, the Beagle Boys won't be the only ones trying to hurt you," said Louie, checking his phone yet again.
"Geez, calm down, it's the exit," he said. "It's on the other side of the Big Top and kind of, like, hidden behind the ring toss table. But the bad news is those freaky circus guys and the weird mime dudes are guarding it. But, more good news: It looks like Launchpad's got the limo parked outside. I couldn't get his attention, but if we can just get out of here, we're home free."
"Okay," Louie groaned, pinching the bridge of his bill with a huff. "So I guess this is where we are in the plan then," he said, rolling his sleeve back up. "Webby: Go get Huey and head for that exit as stealthily as possible. Dewey and I'll get the weirdos by the gate and any other Beagles we run into to chase us as far from you guys as possible. Then we'll loop back to the exit and make the getaway of the century. Dewey, I truly can not believe I'm saying this, but lead the way."
Dewey flashed a goofy smile and tugged Huey's hat firmly onto his head, probably thinking it would make him more tempting as bait. The two boys then took off in the direction of the large central tent where the main show had taken place, and Webby started running toward where she had left Huey. She turned another corner and nearly ran headfirst into someone, instead shoving them backwards and using the momentum to leap to her left.
"Webby, it's me!" Huey complained, having landed on his tail.
"Oh my goodness," she gasped, quickly moving to help him up, "Huey, I'm so sorry, I thought you were someone—wait, why aren't you under the taco truck?"
"Beagle Boys," he replied curtly, grabbing her wrist and yanking her into a narrow alleyway between two tents and crouching low. It was quiet for a few moments before she heard the wheels, but shortly after that the Longboard Taquitos came into view. Both children held their breath and shrunk back into the canvas behind them, trying to make themselves as small as possible. Webby knew that their cover was entirely inadequate, so they just had to hope that they wouldn't be noticed.
Luckily, the brightly dressed trio sped right by on their boards, laughing and pointing in the direction they must have thought Huey had run. After a few more seconds of silence, he and Webby finally let themselves exhale.
"Well?" she asked.
"The one with the dumb glasses spotted me when he fell off his board," Huey said, rolling his eyes. "Luckily, he was pretty far away when it happened and they're dumb enough that they feel the need to announce their every move. I'd only been running a minute or so when you bumped into me."
Webby scratched the back of her head and smiled in a manner she hoped looked apologetic. "Sorry about that."
"It's okay, I'm fine," he said. "Have you found the exit yet?"
"Yes, actually!" she said, watching his whole demeanour brighten at her words. "Well, technically, Dewey did. But we found it, and Launchpad's outside, and we just have to get there while Dewey and Louie distract the guys guarding it."
Huey smiled. "Louie got ahold of Launchpad?"
"No, he was already here," Webby said. "Granny must've sent him to bring us home after the show. He's out in the parking lot."
He nodded and his face fell a little bit. "It would be really great if he were in here and not out there."
Webby shrugged in agreement but didn't say anything, simply standing and offering a hand to Huey. He took it and let her help him up, peering out of the odd alley between tents they were currently hiding in before he asked, "Okay, so which way gets us out of here?"
"Dewey said it was behind the ring toss tent, which is on the other side of the Big Top," she recalled.
"Other side with respect to what?" Huey asked her, uncertainty creeping back into his voice. "From here? From where you were then? From where he was when he saw it?"
"Huey, calm down," she said, grabbing his hand with both of hers in an attempt to quell his growing panic. Webby couldn't really blame him; they'd been at this for what must have been at least an hour. "Remember when Louie talked the ring toss man into letting the four of us play for the price of one while we waited for the show to start? It was right by the show's main entrance."
Huey opened his beak to say something, but the sound of feet hitting concrete snapped them both back to attention. They made eye contact and nodded, turning in the direction of the Big Top and away from the approaching sound of footsteps. The shiny yellow and white tent festooned with red flags stood tall, towering much taller than its surroundings and in the centre of the fairgrounds. For the first time since this mess had started, they actually had a waypoint.
They exited out the other end of the narrow space and headed towards their goal, moving as quickly as they could while trying to be silent. Apparently, they had been as far from the exit as they possibly could have been when they'd run into each other. Fortunately, the large open area that they had to cross to get to the Big Top was empty at the moment. The quiet did little to ease her dislike of how exposed they were. She noticed that Huey was limping on his left side and groaned internally, wondering what else could possibly go wrong today. She really hoped that that wasn't her fault. She made a mental note to ask him about it later.
They stuck close together, finally reaching the back of the large tent. Webby had originally planned on sliding them under the fabric yet again, allowing them to sneak undetected underneath the spectator stands. It would have been the perfect cover. Unfortunately, the walls of this tent were much more securely fastened to the ground than the supply one the four of them had hidden in earlier. The glossy material was stretched tightly around a thick metal cable, and that cable was secured to the ground with stakes every metre or so.
Instead, Plan B was going to have to be creeping along the outside and hoping their luck held out. In the absolute centre of the fairgrounds. Fully in view to anyone who walked by. One of them obviously fatigued and with an injured ankle.
Okay, so Plan B was definitely not ideal.
They were halfway around to the front of the Big Top when Webby heard voices coming from the direction they were headed. By the way he froze, Huey must have heard them too. Webby studied her surroundings and her eyes fell on the stand where they'd tried to knock down milk bottles with softballs. She grabbed Huey's wrist and sprinted across the path, both of them hurriedly hiding under the tablecloth. They listened intently as the threatening voices grew closer.
"Am I the only one out of all of us who knows how to get anythin' done?" Webby made out as the voices came into range. Huey gulped as they both recognized the voice as Big Time's. "How hard is it to catch one gosh darn McDuck brat?"
"Don't worry, Big Time," she heard Bouncer say. The ground quaked a little with his every step as the large man walked past their hiding spot. "I'm sure your plan won't go horribly wrong this time!"
She heard Burger mumble something in response as they kept walking, but he was cut off by what sounded like Big Time smacking his two brothers. He continued to rant at them, but they had been stomping by so quickly that Webby could no longer make out the words. Once the eerie silence of the empty fairgrounds returned, both children let out the breaths they didn't realize they'd been holding.
"What now?" Huey asked, grasping for his Guidebook before remembering he'd, for whatever reason, left it at home.
Webby tentatively peeked her head out from under the tablecloth, smiling when she looked to her left and noticed the ring toss stand only two tables down. In the distance she heard several pounding footsteps and what sounded like either Louie or Dewey jeering at his pursuers. Not liking not knowing which way that chase was headed, Webby decided to opt for optimal discretion as she formed what would hopefully be the last plan for today.
"All right," she said after returning to her cross-legged position under the table. "We're basically home free at this point." She smiled at the small sigh of relief that slipped from Huey seemingly unintentionally. "There are two more stands between us and ring toss. How do you feel about making the rest of the way on all fours?"
"Webby, you took us crawling through the manor vents on the very first day we met," he said, chuckling a little. "Let's just get out of here."
She smiled and looked to make sure the coast was clear before ushering him to the next stand. This seemed to be some sort of shooting game, and Webby briefly considered if anything there could be useful. She picked up one of the air rifles and flinched when the trigger itself fell to the ground with a hollow clink. Deciding these were probably more likely to hurt the person using them than anyone else, she gently put the rusty thing down and signalled to Huey to move on.
The next stand seemed to be more of an information booth, now that Webby got a better look at it. She supposed that made sense, considering that, if Dewey was right, they were right by the main entrance. There was a cardboard box under the table labelled Lost&Found, and Webby had another quick idea. "Here," she said, shoving the box towards Huey. She looked out from under the far end of the tablecloth and, sure enough, the exit was right there. She could see the empty parking lot through the gap in the fence and, for the moment, it was entirely unguarded.
"What do you want me to do with this?" Huey asked, rummaging through the collection of single mittens and lost socks. "It smells so—why is there always a pair of underwear in these things?"
"Just put on scarf or something," she said. "The exit is right there, and it looks like the coast is clear, but I just want to cover all of our bases." She didn't tell him that she was concerned his ankle would slow them down, and that, once again, she was really just trying to give them any advantage that could help them out here. She grabbed a sunhat and a pair of sunglasses missing a lens, and Huey grabbed a toque and scarf. Webby took the toque off and put it back in the bin, instead giving him her glasses.
"Probably a better disguise without a hat," she said. They shared a nervous laugh. "Okay, let's go."
Standing up, Webby looked both ways and listened again. Satisfied, she helped Huey up from under the table and prodded him gently forward. The two of them were off and running, no longer caring about keeping down the noise from their pounding feet as they bolted towards the way out. Webby kept closely behind the boy, just in case someone tried to ambush them from behind. Huey's limp was slowing him down only slightly, and Webby decided she would have to commend him later on how little he was letting his injury affect him.
The dash to the exit was only a minute or so long, but to the children it felt agonizingly slow. They both half-expected a Beagle Boy to jump out at any minute. It was almost surreal when they finally did cross the threshold, both of them pausing to look at each other as if to make sure that that had actually just happened. They had finally made it out and, after all that, the homestretch had really been that easy. Wide smiles spread across their faces, but Webby's fell when she noticed the pained look behind Huey's eyes.
"How's your ankle?" she finally asked, eyeing the limousine parked at the far end of the otherwise empty lot.
"It… hurts," Huey said matter-of-factly, wincing as he slowly lifted his foot and rotated it experimentally, "but it just feels like a bad sprain."
"Sit there," Webby instructed, gesturing to a spot along the fence that was far enough away from the main door that he wouldn't be seen by anyone inside. "I'll go get Launchpad."
Huey stepped forward, likely to disagree, but when his left foot hit the ground a small cry involuntarily escaped his beak. He looked to Webby apologetically and she tried to give him the same look Granny gave her when she didn't want to get her flu shot.
"Okay," he said meekly, "I'll wait here for Dewey and Louie."
Webby flashed him a thumbs up and took off at full-speed to where their getaway car was waiting. Without having to worry about whether or not anyone would be able to keep up with her, Webby ran as fast as she could. She reached the limo in moments and knocked on the driver side window.
"Hey, nice hat!" Launchpad greeted cheerily after lowering the glass.
"Launchpad, we have to get going, now!" Webby said. She moved to open the back door, grunting in frustration when it was locked.
"Whoa! No can do, fancy-lady-I've-never-met-before. Mrs. B sent me to pick up the kids, and they're not here yet. I'm sure they won't mind if we give you a ride, though!"
"Launchpad, it's me," Webby said, throwing the hat to the ground. She kept pulling at the locked handle.
"Oh, Webby! Hi! Sorry about that, but you know what they say: Never blindly trust a person in a hat."
The door clicked open and Webby jumped into the back seat. "Launchpad, you wear a hat."
"Yeah, but I know my hat. It's a known hat."
Webby rolled her eyes. "Come on, we have to get going. The Beagle Boys are chasing us."
"Oh no!" he said, starting the engine. "They all wear hats!"
Webby smacked her forehead. "Yes, that is the main concern here," she said sarcastically.
"Where are Dewey and his brothers?" Launchpad asked, now speeding the car towards the fairground entrance.
"Huey's over there waiting, and th—"
"I dunno, Webby. I'm, like, eighty-seven percent sure that none of the boys wear glasses."
"It's a disguise, Launchpad," she said. "Dewey and Louie'll be here in a second."
They pulled up beside the young duck, miraculously without crashing, and Webby helped Huey into the back seat.
"Hi Huey! I like your scarf. Bold fashion statement at this time of year."
"Thanks, Launchpad," the young boy said, laughing with what was probably more relief than anything else. "Can you get us a little closer to the entrance?"
"Sure thing!" he said, throwing the car into reverse. Predictably, they backed up right into a light post. Webby smiled. I thought it was odd we hadn't crashed yet. Still, this put the back door right next to the exit, so all they had to do was wait.
They didn't have to wait very long before they heard frantic footsteps headed their way.
"Start the car, start the car, start the car!" they heard, the familiar voice getting louder and closer with every repetition. They turned to see Louie running, rapidly looking in every direction as he did so. Once he crossed through the exit he all but leapt into the car, buckling himself in and slumping down into the cushions.
"I think I lost 'em," he said, panting. "Watched a bunch of them 'follow me' into the Big Top while I snuck out under the game stands."
"We did the same thing," Webby said, relieved to know that he probably hadn't been followed.
"Where's Dewey?" Launchpad asked.
"Give him a sec; he was right behind me," Louie said. "Took the long way around the merry-go-round. He'll probably have a whole pack of Beagle Boys behind him though, so be sure you're ready to move."
"Yes sir, Louie sir!" Launchpad answered, keeping his hand on the gear shift.
And so, they waited. But no one else, Beagle or otherwise, came out of the fairgrounds after Louie reunited with the group. Launchpad instructed them to stay in the car while he went to go get Dewey, and the children continued to wait with bated breath, refusing to allow what ifs to creep into their minds. It wasn't until the pilot returned, discarded red hat in hand, that Webby realized something had gone very wrong.
OH MY FREAKING GOD YOU GUYS, I DID IT. IT'S DONE. Nearly four months; people, I am so sorry. I have such a hard time writing action, and this chapter needed me to do that, so I just kept hitting creative walls. Normally I get a piece of writing out in one or two sessions, but Chapter 5 here is the result of at least a dozen writing sessions. I am quite proud of how it turned out, though, so I do hope it was at least somewhat worth the wait.
I had a lot of fun writing in a bunch of different Beagle Boys, but I feel like I probably overdid it, so sorry if that's the case. Also, when I started writing this we had only ever seen Louie with a phone, so I'd just assumed no one else had one yet. Oh, and Launchpad was so much fun to write! I don't really have a lot for him to do, plot-wise, but I hope I can keep finding ways to use him.
Again, I am so so sorry for how long it took me to get this done. I'd say I'll try to get the next one up quicker, but I tried that last time, and look how that turned out. Thank you so much to my beautiful reviewers: You are all magical souls and I treasure all of you. Thank you for keeping me believing that people actually want to read this crazy little idea I have.
Lots of love until next time, and happy holidays!