Alone in the clearing, Katrina sighed as she cast off her little toy stethoscope and sat in front of the car-seat chair that RJ had called home so many times. Somehow, it felt more right to be sitting in front of the chair, rather than actually in it. That was a spot reserved only for RJ, and as he was currently in no state to occupy it, then no one would.

Katrina rubbed her eyes tiredly. None of the Hedgies had gotten much sleep since the storm; all of them were far too concerned for RJ, and deep in mourning for Rob. Too fast, everything had happened too fast. It wasn't enough that one of their best friends was taken from them; slowly, gradually, RJ was falling away as well. Katrina folded her arms and shivered: the night air was cold, and her fur only offered minimal protection. Yet she knew the cold was only part of it.

All was silent in the clearing: there was no breeze in the wind, no sound from the sleeping suburbs. Katrina felt tears stinging her eyes as she tried so hard not to let the sorrow overwhelm her. She and Marissa needed to stay strong, for RJ's sake. Having spent years in an animal-testing lab, the sisters knew a lot about caring for the injured, and if they wanted to have any hope for RJ, then they had to help him out of his coma.

Rarely had Katrina felt so helpless. She had all of this knowledge at her disposal, but she couldn't use any of it. Oh, sure, she knew that RJ had to stay warm, and be supervised at all times, and his vital signs monitored to make sure he didn't — didn't — well, anyway, the point was that there was nothing more she or Marissa could do for the raccoon. Neither of them, nor any of the Hedgies, knew how to get RJ conscious again. All they could do was wait and hope. And Katrina was tired of just waiting.

Suddenly her eyes shot open again. Of course! If they couldn't treat RJ, they would get treatment for him. An idea was gathering rapidly in Katrina's mind, and she stood up resolutely, making for the glade in which the Hedgies were gathered around RJ. If she was right about her plan — and she sincerely hoped she was — then she would need help. She certainly was determined enough, but the fact remained that she couldn't travel that far by herself. She'd need assistance.

Her arrival went unnoticed by many of the Hedgies; however, Marissa spotted her and quickly arrived at her side. She had recognized that spark in her sister's eyes. "Another plan, right?"

"Yup," said Katrina determinedly, and turned to face the rest of the group. Raising her voice, she called, "I have an announcement to make!"

"Yay! Another plan! Another plan!" squealed Marissa, twirling in circles and clapping her hands. Katrina smiled in spite of herself. Her sister, the eternal optimist, could make any moment more cheerful. However, Katrina's smile quickly faded under the somber gazes of her friends. She pulled Marissa to her side; her sister quickly stopped celebrating, though a sparkle of adventure remained in her eyes.

"The two of us are going on a mission to finish what Rob, Hammy and RJ started," Katrina began seriously, and she heard Marissa gasp quietly from beside her. "We're finding Dr. Parker and we'll get him here; he can cure RJ." No one moved or spoke as she looked at each Hedgie in turn. "However, we're rats. And we can't do it by ourselves." Marissa blinked. "So who's with us?"

The Hedgies looked at each other with concern, and Katrina understood: They wanted to help — as families were wont to do — but they also were loath to leave RJ, their leader, in such a vulnerable state. Silence echoed round the glade for several moments as each Hedgie considered. Finally two voices from the back spoke up together. "We're in."

And effortlessly, gracefully, John and Snowy leaped over the remaining Hedgies and landed in front of Katrina and Marissa, smiling. They swept a front paw to their chests and bowed. "At your service, miladies," John said solemnly, though still smiling.

Katrina felt herself blush under her fur. Marissa, however, was totally unaffected, and turning to her sister she chirped, "Cats and rats. An unlikely friendship, isn't it?"

"Very," Snowy laughed, extending a paw. "Here, hop on."

Katrina cautiously took her paw and Snowy slung the rat up onto her shoulders; John made to do the same with Marissa but she suddenly shouted "Wait!" and promptly dashed out of the clearing into the night. Before the three of them had time to wonder what had happened, she had dashed back to them, a newspaper clipping clutched in her paw. "RJ had the address to the SPCA building!" she said, waving it above her. "It's not too far from here!"

"Let me see that," said Katrina, reaching for the clipping, but Marissa jerked it back sharply, saying fiercely, "Nuh uh. No way." She climbed onto John's shoulders and glared at Katrina. "I will be giving the directions, thank you. I may not be the best but I'm better than some people."

Katrina flushed. "If you're referring to that wrong turn we took during Escape Attempt #4," she began, "that wasn't my fault —"

The rest of her words were cut off as Snowy leaped forward, after John. Marissa had given him the address on the clipping, and he and Snowy now bounded through the forest and burst through the hedge, flooding the four of them with leaves and branches. "Bye, Steve!" said Marissa, turning back to wave at the hedge, and John and Snowy rolled their eyes.

"You've been talking with Hammy, haven't you?" Katrina shouted to her sister as the two cats pounded down the suburban streets.

RJ sank into his past once more, the void around him vanishing (along with his awareness of the dream). Blearily he raised his head and looked around. He was lying down in a meadow, the sun blazing in the sky directly above him. RJ yawned and rubbed his eyes. He must have slept till at least late morning — too late, as far as he was concerned. Where was he? How had he gotten here? Did something happen to —

Suddenly his memories came rushing back to him and he let out a groan. He remembered now: he had stayed out late trying to find more food for the stockpile. Now that Vincent had been starving his family for a good couple of weeks, he, Raymond, Tim and Jill were doing everything they could to make ends meet while still feeding themselves. It wasn't going too well — for one thing, the four of them were always hungry now, and for another, his parents had noticed that RJ seemed very distant with them.

They assume it's because we're all half-starved, RJ reflected as he stood up shakily, trying to ignore the hunger gnawing at his stomach. Reluctantly he picked up the small bucket his parents had nicked for him (they were gathering separately now, rather than together, figuring it'd be more efficient) and looked inside: it was barely half full. RJ resisted the urge to pop a few fruits into his mouth and concentrated on dragging the container behind him, back toward his home.

He must have fallen asleep out here, trying to gather all the food, and his exhaustion had made him sleep through almost half the day. My parents think I'm mad at them, the raccoon realized as he slipped through the fence and back into the forest. They think I think it's their fault we're hungry. Oh, boy, if they only knew...

RJ supposed it was his own fault that he kept staying out late. He had followed his parents and discovered the reason behind their food gathering, and it was this knowledge now that tortured him and pushed him to gather more and more food for the family. A noble thing to do, perhaps, but it was coming at the cost of his own health. RJ stumbled woozily: he was exhausted, both from staying out late and the lack of regular nutrition. He was either very brave or very stupid to try and gather so much food when it was so hard to come by. Probably the latter, though.

A rustling came from in front of the raccoon and he stopped, instinctively jumping behind the nearest tree and pressing his back against the bark. He hugged the food tightly to his chest. There were voices coming from a small clearing in the forest — a clearing that he had been about to pass through, but that was no longer an option as far as RJ was concerned. His ear twitched as he strained to pick up what the voices were saying, and he nearly gasped out loud: He recognized one. It was Vincent.

"...it's not nearly enough," the bear was saying to an unknown accomplice, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "And they won't be able to meet the deadline, it's obvious. Why do you think they call it a deadline?"

"You're not really going to kill them, are you, boss?" This voice was deep too, and noble. RJ recognized it as a stag that he had sometimes seen walking through the forest, conversing somewhat with various critters — though he and RJ had never talked face-to-face. The raccoon had never really bothered to know much about the stag ... so why did it come as such a surprise that he was working for Vincent?

"Nah, not all of them, anyway. But when they're unable to produce the results, then it'll be the entire family serving me, not just the two raccoons. And actually, I might just knock off that youngest brat of theirs — if only to shut him up. The oldest kit, though — he's somethin' special. Got a knack for food. It's always obvious which fruits are his; he picks the ripest and cleanest ones. Got a good eye."

"A good tongue, more like. Seems like you've been spying, boss."

"Of course I have," Vincent snapped back, and RJ closed his eyes, shaking with a combination of fear and rage — fear, because it had turned out he was being watched, and rage because of what Vincent had threatened Raymond with. "You don't get to know the best in the business without observing them. See how they work. Learn from them, even."

"So now you're taking lessons from a raccoon?" RJ heard the barest hint of humor in the stag's voice.

"Lessons that I pass onto the others," Vincent snarled. "You know I never have to do the dirty work myself, James. That's the beauty of this operation."

"Operation. Nice term," said James the stag conversationally. "Speaking of which, I have a couple new recruits you may be interested in. They mentioned they'd like to work with you."

"Fine. As long as it's not too many. I don't want to be overwhelmed here," said Vincent, almost as an afterthought.

"Yes, well, anyway, I have two frogs, a kangaroo that escaped from the zoo, three rats —"

"No rats," Vincent interrupted with another snarl. "I don't work with rats."

"But —"

"No rats, do you hear me?" Vincent howled, a tinge of hysteria in the bear's voice. "I loathe the creatures. They're filthy. Ridden with parasites. Any operation of mine is better without them."

"Whatever you say, Vincent," said James smoothly. "Now, to continue, I also have six alley cats and a toad —"

RJ missed the rest because he beat a hasty path around the clearing as fast as his legs would carry him. He barely even noticed that he was taking the detour; his mind spun with what he had just heard. Vincent had set the food requirement for his parents too high on purpose, just so that the entire family would have to serve him forever. His agreement with Tim and Jill hadn't been good enough for him, so he had set a trap. It was an agreement his family couldn't get out of.

But even more chilling, Vincent wanted him. He thought RJ had talent and he was planning to use it. That was why he wanted the whole family's servitude — he wanted to capitalize on RJ's skill. RJ felt his blood boil at the thought. What right did Vincent have to assume RJ would become his servant? What right did he have to "knock off" Raymond? Who did he think he —

In RJ's rage, he didn't look where he was going and he promptly collided with a large mass of fur. "Oof!" both he and his unknown companion said, falling backwards, and the contents of RJ's bucket spilled. Hastily he scrambled to his feet and began shoveling the food back in. "I'm sorry —" he began, but —

"Do watch where you're going RJ," said Tim conversationally as he stood up, also carting a bucket of food. "Nearly plowed straight through me there."

RJ relaxed. "Sorry, Dad. Where's Mom?"

"Oh, off in a clearing somewhere gathering with Raymond," said Tim, waving a hand behind him. "The two of them should be back soon. I just stopped to empty my food bucket so I can refill. Need help with yours?"

"Uh, sure," said RJ. He and Tim finished refilling RJ's bucket, then the two of them scurried up the tree trunk together and jumped into their little living hole. With a grunt, RJ heaved his bucket upward, tilting it, and all of the contents spilled out onto the pile in the middle of their living space, a pile of food that, while large, was not nearly big enough for Vincent.

And it wasn't growing nearly as fast as it needed to.

"This should do it," said Tim with cheery, albeit false, optimism, as he did the same with his own bucket. "We should be all filled up in no time now. Once we do that we can replenish ourselves —"

"Dad. Stop," RJ said testily, and his father turned to face him, surprised. RJ shifted uncomfortably, but he knew the moment of truth had come. "Just ... just stop, okay? I know our situation. I know why we need all this food but we can't eat it. You don't have to pretend to be cheerful. It's hopeless."

Tim dropped his bucket, stunned. It clattered to the floor and rolled away, neither raccoon paying it the slightest bit of attention.

There was silence in the tree trunk for a moment, as father and son stared intently at each other. RJ felt his eyes water, but he was determined not to back down. And finally, Tim spoke. "So," he said, all pretenses of false optimism gone from his voice. "You know about Vincent."

RJ nodded feebly; words failed him at this point.

"And you know what we have to do with the food we gather."

Another nod.

"Well then," said Tim quietly, placing a hand on RJ's shoulder, "you should also know that it's not hopeless." RJ raised his eyebrows, not saying anything, but Tim continued on. "Any problem can overwhelm you if you look at it from one side like that. But when you start looking for different ways to solve it — that's when it stops being hopeless."

Tim dropped his hand from RJ's shoulder, picked up his bucket and headed for the entrance to the den, leaving RJ alone with his thoughts. At the last minute Tim turned around from outside and smiled at his son. "Your mother believes in you, RJ. I do too. How can that be hopeless?"

And then he was gone.

And though RJ didn't know it, that was the last time he would ever see his father alive.

The young raccoon sat down inside the den and rested his hands on his knees. He raised one and massaged his forehead. It sounded like his father was asking him to think outside the box. For lack of a better term, anyway. All right, RJ was willing to do that. The question was, where to start? He needed food. They all did. They needed lots of it. It was the only way they could ever hope to please Vincent.

When his family really needed food, they would scavenge in fields owned by humans. The humans deserved this, however, because they were stealing the animals' food. Well, okay, they weren't stealing, but they were obliterating. Wiping out whole areas of the forest just so they could have more living space. Space for houses, supermarkets, restaurants, gas stations, airports — wait a minute!

RJ suddenly brightened; an idea was dawning on him. The humans were erasing animal food ... but they were coming up with their own! They had entire buildings stocked full of the stuff! Much more than they needed, but that was beside the point. Humans had food, and RJ's family didn't. They needed it more than the humans. And that, in RJ's opinion, settled the matter.

He'd have to steal from the humans directly.

"So, you know the way?" said Snowy from beside John as the two of them continued through the streets of suburbia, having slowed to a fast walk to catch their breath. Marissa was sleeping on John's shoulders; Katrina was a little more alert, but was still extremely tired. She yawned as she rubbed her eyes to try and wake herself up a little.

"Yeah, we just have to go out the main entrance and go around a couple turns," replied John. "We should be nearly there by now..."

The foursome rounded a street corner and spotted the main intersection at the end of the road, framed by the sunrise on the horizon. Katrina couldn't help remembering the last time she had seen a sunrise like that: She had been on board a falling helicopter, had about thirty animals crowded around her, and heard explosions peppering the air around them. Yet for some reason, she felt less secure — less happy — right now, than she had then. Maybe it had been the euphoria of finally escaping the lab, maybe it was the fact that she had had a solid leader to follow, but now — now all she could find was anxiety and loneliness. She had her friends with her of course, two of whom she had known her whole life. And all of them were very loyal to each other. But she couldn't help feeling that the four of them were, for all intents and purposes, alone.

Very alone.

This feeling was further amplified when Snowy suddenly halted, about halfway down the street, and raised a paw. "Sssh," she whispered. "Do you hear something?"

Three pairs of ears twitched. John reached onto his back and gently shook Marissa, and she twitched hers halfheartedly as well. The sound was coming from the house to their left. Whispers. Drifting through the still morning air.

At a silent signal from John, Snowy crouched down on the ground into the stalking position that cats could hold like no other animal. Slowly she and John inched forward, across the glass of the front lawn, through the shrubbery planted in front of the house, until finally their ears had guided them to underneath an open window. Katrina dared a quick look above her into the house, but she couldn't see the two humans that were talking to each other. She could hear them, though. And their voices were thick with emotion.

"...been looking all over the area. The neighborhood. The school. All the local hangouts — Andy, he's just ... just ... gone." The woman's voice sounded caring. Concerned. Anxious. And heartbroken. Katrina heard her sob softly.

"They'll find him, Rebecca," came Andy's reply. The woman's husband was attempting to soothe her, but his voice shook. "The police, they're — they're good at what they do. They'll rescue him in no time. He'll be back soon. You'll see."

"What are we going to do?" Rebecca gasped shrilly, and Katrina knew she was weeping. "Our son — our only son — missing — where is he? What has he done?"

"Nothing worth getting — getting upset over," Andy said, trying to sound cheerful, but he was beginning to break down as well. "He'll be fine. He's been gone from home longer than this, you know it."

"But that was on school trips! He's never been out by himself, on the streets, alone!" Rebecca was losing control now, her weeping growing stronger. "Andy, what if he's — if he's —"

"Don't even think about that," her husband said firmly, cutting her off, and Rebecca's sobs stopped abruptly. The animals outside heard slight shuffling sounds and knew that Andy had wrapped his arms around his wife. "Rebecca, please listen to me. Everything will be all right. Rob is —" his breath caught. "He — he knows things. He'll find his way home. He always has." There was an uncomfortable pause, then Andy cleared his throat, swallowing a sob, and added, "And he always will."

Katrina's vision was blurred and her eyes were stinging. Blindly she lowered herself to Snowy's ear. "We need to leave." There was no response from the cat. "Now!" Katrina gasped, pleadingly, imploringly.

"We have to let them know the truth," John whispered as he bowed his head, tears leaking from his eyes as well. "They can't go on like this."

"It's not our place!" Katrina gasped, raising her paws to her head, willing the emotion to subside. "We can't possibly tell them —"

"Then who else will?" said Snowy, suddenly fierce, her eyes blazing as she whipped around to face Katrina. "We're the only ones who know what happened to him. We're the only ones that can ever tell anybody!"

"Stop arguing," came a soft voice from atop John's back, and silence abruptly descended on the foursome. Marissa had curled herself up into a ball, and she was shivering. "Let's just go," she choked. When there was no response she began shaking harder. "Please," she added, voice broken.

There was no sound or movement for several moments, then Snowy suddenly turned around, away from the house, away from the end of the street, away from their current direction — and she began running. Running faster than she ever had before. Katrina grabbed onto the cat's shoulders as she heard John follow behind her, and hoped Marissa had the sense to do the same. The two larger animals turned corner after corner, seemingly without rhyme or reason, and Katrina knew they were running to escape their feelings as much as their location. And she also knew that no matter how much any of them tried, their emotions would catch up to them eventually.

Snowy and John continued to pound through the suburban streets, never slowing and never stopping. Block after block they ran, turning corners without slowing down or pausing to figure out where they were going. Katrina raised her head as they hung a sharp left — and suddenly a familiar sight loomed in front of them. The hedge was at the end of this street. It obviously wasn't the place they had just left, however; the layout was different. It must be the opposite end, Katrina figured.

Suddenly she glimpsed something, an unfamiliar object placed just in front of the Hedge. She looked at it a little more closely and suddenly, in an abrupt tone, she said to Snowy, "Stop."

When the cat did not respond, Katrina lowered herself directly into her ear again, and shouted, "STOP!"

Snowy suddenly skidded to a halt, nearly throwing Katrina off her shoulders; and behind them they heard John do the same. Katrina expected Marissa to yell in alarm, maybe even laugh and make a joke about it, but when she turned around her sister had a blank, mute look on her face, clutching John's ears as she peered through them. She was focusing on the object in front of the Hedge. Her voice came out in a strangled whisper. "This is bad."

Katrina turned around, and she took a long, hard look at the object. It was a sign. A large, white sign with large, red lettering printed on it. Katrina felt a nasty feeling growing in the pit of her stomach as she read it.

Things were very bad.

FUTURE DEVELOPMENT ZONE

El Rancho Camelot Estates

Be prepared in the coming months for the sight of a new local landmark!

THE "KNIGHTS OF THE ROUND TABLE" SHOPPING MALL!

The epitome of perfection will loom from the center of Camelot, as customers will at last have a place to talk, laugh and shop with their friends. Call 1-888-226-3568 for more information!

Clearing away of the forest area to commence in one weeks' time.

Construction to begin in three weeks.