January 5th 2013, 1:30AM
Josie lay in bed, crying softly, trying in vain to drift off to sleep and forget about her sorrows. Although there was a power failure in town from the blizzard, which wouldn't be fixed until tomorrow morning, she couldn't find the willpower to light a lamp, to penetrate the darkness that now filled her empty house. It had been five days now since her son had disappeared, just like her husband. What had been a time of misery and depression following James' disappearance last week, had only turned to utter desperation when she had woken up on New Year's Day to find Jamie gone as well.
She had woken up that morning and gone downstairs to make breakfast as usual, but Jamie hadn't answered her call to come down to eat. She had found his bed empty with no explanation as to where he had gone. When she had found Snitter's kennel empty as well, she had figured he had probably gone out early to take the dog on his morning walk. But when he had failed to turn up by lunchtime, she had started getting worried. Where had her son gone?
She had tried calling him on his cell phone, but had only gotten a warning that his phone was unavailable. Then she had discovered that the briefcase containing her husband's insurance money was also missing, as well as a shocking note Jamie had left on the mantelpiece, explaining where he had gone. On the verge of a heart attack, Josie had immediately phoned the police; only Sheriff Fowler had explained that they had already received another urgent phone call from Tom Shelton, reporting a break-in at his flight club last night and his glider stolen.
Hurrying down to the station, Josie had met with Fowler and Shelton, whom the Sheriff had summoned down for questioning. According to Shelton's statement, Jamie had broken into the flight club hanger in the middle of the night and taken off with the glider, apparently on some insane solo rescue mission to find his father. And just like it had happened with James, the glider had vanished without a trace while crossing over the New Forest area.
Josie had shown Fowler Jamie's note and had informed him of the missing money, which Jamie had apparently taken with him. Surprisingly enough, Tom Shelton, who was entitled to press charges for the theft, had been unusually sympathetic and had reassured her that he would not sue, regardless if the glider was returned to him undamaged or not. But when Josie had asked him to let her speak with Kenny, who had been the last person to see Jamie the night he disappeared, the flight controller had firmly refused, claiming that his son had suffered a great shock when he had heard the news about his friend, and was not to be disturbed.
Although sceptical of Shelton's story, given that Jamie wasn't a troublemaker prone to breaking-in and stealing, Josie had been too distraught to give it another thought. What mattered was that her son had done the unthinkable and as a result, had followed his father to his doom. In spite of the authorities renewing the search in earnest, no trace of Jamie had been found and the boy was soon also given up for lost just like his father.
Despite the Sheriff's reassurance that they would continue to keep Jamie's picture on the missing persons' list for as long as it would take, deep down Josie knew it was only false hope. Because of her stupidity by going to sleep under sedatives that night, her son – her entire family – was gone, leaving her with nothing but an empty house and her work. In other words, she had nothing left to live for anymore; the last remaining remnant of her family was her father-in-law, whom she hardly knew. Although Mike McEwen had promised to continue supporting her in every way, what good was the support of an old man, who served as little more than a reminder of her deceased husband and son?
Her first thought had been to leave town and move away, maybe leave the country altogether; perhaps she could immigrate to France or the United States, remarry and start a new family… Unfortunately, with her husband's insurance money lost when she needed it the most, it was impossible. Besides, the thought of moving away to a strange country, all alone, with no idea of how to start anew, felt too much for her.
And so it had been for several days now that she had sat waiting, not coming out or seeing anyone, praying for a miracle that might bring her family back safely. The lack of sleep and meals was already beginning to take its toll on her; dark shadows hung under her eyes, her expression a void of total emptiness. Finally, tonight she had come to a decision.
On the bedside table sat a bottle of wine and some painkillers prescribed by her physician to help her cope with her trauma. The pills had been removed from their box and were lying on a saucer; she was preparing a simple barbiturate any person with medical knowledge knew how to make, which, in a large dose, would lead to a deep coma and eventually a painless death by heart failure.
Taking the saucer of tablets, she ground them to powder with a teaspoon. Then she added the powder to the bottle, preparing a large quantity of the lethal narcotic. Making herself comfortable in bed, she poured herself a large glass of the mixture. Picking up the glass of homemade poison, she stared at it, hesitating at what she was about to do.
Her mind reflected on her childhood, when once before in her life, she had suddenly, and without warning, found herself alone in the world when her parents had been killed in that car crash when she was ten. Only then, she had met Alan and his gang, who had helped her cope with her loss and start over. But that was a long time ago; Alan and her old friends were now just as dead as her husband and son, leaving her with only one way out of this misery fate had cast her into.
Her hand trembling with anticipation, she brought the glass up to her lips, muttering a silent prayer under her breath. Her mind was racing; half of it was screaming at her to get a grip on herself and stop this madness before she regretted it, while the other half was urging her to get on with it and end her misery once and for all. Hopefully, it would be no different than going to sleep… for eternity. And her husband and son - and Alan of course - would be waiting on the other side. Yes, this was the best way.
Almost as if in a trance, she sat up and took a sip; her throat muscles instantly contracted, refusing to swallow, as she struggled with the mental battle in her mind. Should she do it? Although it could take several glasses of the mixture before it acted, she didn't think she'd be able to stop once she started. And once it was done, there would be no turning back… Banishing the thought of the possibility of her son or husband returning after she was gone and finding out what she did, she braced herself, preparing to swallow…
Suddenly, she was caught off-guard by a loud pounding on the front door downstairs. Snapping out of her suicidal trance, she spat out the deadly mixture, which splattered against the mirror atop her dresser on the far side of the room. Horrified by what she had been about to do, as if only now realising she had actually been attempting suicide, she jumped out of bed, hurrying to get a kerosene lamp that sat on her husband's bedside table.
Hurryingly lighting the lantern, she rushed downstairs to answer the door. Who could it be at this hour? She had had several unexpected midnight visitors in the past, often pet owners with sick animals, but this didn't sound like one; even from the top of the stairs, she could hear a desperate male voice, which sounded vaguely familiar, shouting, "Hallo! Anybody home? We need help, hallo!"
Her mind racing, she fiddled with the keys by lamplight, trying to unlock the door. Could it be Sheriff Fowler, having arrived with some good news? Maybe they had found something after all? But then again, why did the voice sound so desperate? Cautiously opening the door ajar, but keeping the chain latch engaged, she saw several figures on the porch. The outline of a tall man standing nearest to the door was visible against the darkness of the street, with five other curiously short people – or so they seemed - behind him. To add to Josie's confusion, those 'short people' seemed to be wearing the most peculiar human-sized rabbit-ear caps she had ever seen, that no person in his right mind would ever wear out in public, and even seemed to crouch like rabbits… What was all this about? Some idiot's idea of a midnight fancy dress surprise perhaps?
"Hallo? Who are you sir and what do you want, calling at this hour…? Oh, my goodness!" Josie gasped, shining her lantern through the crack to get a better look at her visitors, only to encounter the most incredible and just as chilling sight imaginable: standing on her porch was a man with such a ghastly appearance, he looked as if he had just escaped from a war zone.
Wearing nothing but a pair of shredded, mud-caked, and bloodstained trousers and t-shirt beneath his anorak, the stranger's face and arms were lined with multiple scratches and bruises, including one particularly nasty one on his left forearm, staining his anorak sleeve red. But the man's haggard appearance was nothing compared to that of his companions; and it wasn't related to injuries.
Josie's jaw nearly dropped level with the floor in amazement as she stared dumbstruck at the four giant rabbits standing at her door. Nearly human-sized, with expressions that expressed not the instinct-like nature of normal animals, but human-level intelligence, like their companion's, these strange creatures were all staring at Josie in a pleading way, as if asking for her help. The scarring and bruising covering their bodies marked the aftermath of some rough struggle. Sure enough, the man – apparently their leader – spoke again.
"Sorry to disturb you ma'am, but I need your help at once! My friend is dying!" It was then that Josie noticed by her lamplight, a fifth giant rabbit wrapped in a jacket in the man's arms. This one, in contrast to his companions, was unconscious and looked very ill from some unseen injury. Undoubtedly, they had read her infirmary sign down by the garden gate and had come for help. Although utterly at a loss as to what was going on here, at the sight of that sick rabbit, not to mention the obvious signs of hardships amongst the rest of the group, she could not just turn them away now.
"All right, come in," she said, ushering them all inside, out of the blizzard raging outside. She led them down the hallway to her infirmary. Hurrying into the garage next door to fire up a small emergency generator her husband had installed for just such an occasion, she stepped back into the infirmary and lit up several lights mounted on stands, illuminating the room.
The artificial light shone upon her visitors' dirty faces, confirming that her eyes had not been playing tricks on her back there. As a veterinarian, Josie could easily tell an animal from a fancy-dress costume; these strange creatures were as real flesh and blood as they were impossible to imagine. The man was bending over the unconscious rabbit he had placed on the examination table, as another fierce-looking rabbit with a peculiar tuft of fur between his ears spoke to him.
"Are you sure that was wise Alan, coming here?" he whispered in a human voice and good English, as he stared suspiciously at Josie, "She may be McEwen's mate, but how do we know she is trustworthy? What if she decides to sell us out…?" Josie had barely enough time to accept the fact that she wasn't dreaming, before she was struck by a new wave of amazement, as she recognised her visitor.
At the mention of the name Alan and her husband's name, her eyes darted back to the man and she gasped. It was him all right; standing before her was non other than her old boyfriend Alan Alexander Johnson himself! Although it had been nearly fourteen years since they had lost touch, the familiar handsome face behind the horn-rimmed glasses was unmistakable, the toothbrush-like moustache and trimmed hair he had substituted for his old ponytail not having changed him much.
Her mind flashed back to that shocking news report she had read in the paper the other day, that Alan's disappearance had been a suicidal plane crash; although she had been grieving for her husband and son at the time, she had felt outraged to hear such cruel words about him. Although she had known Alan to be a daredevil at times, who would scare her senseless with his antics, she had also known him to be honest and caring, never murderous or suicidal. The very fact that he had shown up on her doorstep, accompanied by a bunch of giant humanoid rabbits, completely dispelled that yellow Press story. And, by the sound of it, he was the key informant who could put her on the right trail to find her husband and son.
Alan, on the other hand, currently out of his mind with worry for his long-earned friend on the table, hadn't recognised her…yet. Seeing her hesitation, he shook her shoulder to regain her attention, "I'll explain what's going on later. Right now, I need you to concentrate on your patient!"
Getting to work in earnest, Josie struggled frantically to reverse the poisoning the runt buck had suffered after being hit with a strychnine dart, according to Alan's explanation. Although she still had no idea what was going on, or where these strange rabbits had come from, she now knew for a certainty, her search for her husband had only just began…
March 15th 2791, Cowslip's Warren
Centuries away from his mother, Jamie and his band were following Mr Robbins away from the ruins of Newtown Churchyard and into the woods, towards another warren where Robbins had found shelter after getting separated from his companions. As they walked, Jamie finally got to hear the full story of his father's fate.
Mr Robbins was a video documentarian, who had hitched a last-minute ride on Johnson's Cessna on that fateful day, eager for some footage of the New Forest dead zone, not realising he had been embarking on the flight of his life. Just like it had happened with Jamie, the plane had encountered the Aurora and, in an instant, they had found themselves stranded in this crazy future world.
With their pilot dead from a mid-flight heart attack, Johnson had managed to make an emergency landing on the outskirts of Sandleford. Like Ash had explained earlier, the Owsla had caught them trespassing and brought them before the Chief Rabbit for questioning. It had been then that MacEwen's chopper, which had also run foul of the Aurora, had shown up, only to meet a disastrous crash landing, destroying Sandleford in the process.
Some of the Sandleford survivors, along with Johnson's party and Jamie's father – the only survivor from the chopper crew - had regrouped and set off into the wilderness, in search of a new home. With Johnson in the lead, they had crossed the Enborne River, heading south towards the downs, where they hoped to find shelter. Unfortunately, they hadn't gotten far.
On the way, they had camped out at the ruins of Newtown Churchyard for the night. That very night, Johnson, accompanied by his friend Derek Shaw, had taken off without explanation. Little had the others realised at that point, that there were in for trouble. Sure enough, the very next day the group had been ambushed and attacked by another group of hostile rabbits that Johnson had brought back with him from the forest.
"We were all caught unawares, captured and dragged off," Robbins explained, "Those bandits, which said come from some hidden warren called Efrafa and regard themselves as self-appointed masters of this land, had been set upon us…by Johnson!" Jamie gasped. Perhaps those stories questioning Johnson's sanity, which had upset his mother so much, had been true after all?
"I barely escaped with my life," Robbins explained, gesturing at all the mauling that covered his body, "I made it to this other warren and have been hiding there ever since. I was out looking for food and saw your glider coming in. Close shave, was it not?" he said, pulling back his jacket, revealing a holster in his belt, with an expensive-looking service revolver tucked inside it.
"Yes, thanks for that save, Mr Robbins," replied Jamie, remembering the mysterious gunshot that had saved their lives, "But, hang on…! He added, suddenly fuelled with suspicion, "Since when do journalists carry guns? And on a plane nonetheless?" Robbins froze in his tracks, realising the cat was out of the bag…again. But, for the second time in one day, he was able to salvage it, as he calmly explained by taking out his leather wallet and flashing a badge. Jamie recognised the crest of the British Secret Service Bureau.
"You are a government agent Mr Robbins?" he asked in surprise, "And what are you doing here?"
"We had reason to believe that Dr Johnson was involved in selling out government secrets to international terrorists, so we have had him under surveillance for a while now," explained the man in a cold voice, "And after what happened the other day, I am pretty sure we are dealing with a raving psychopath who belongs in an institution for the criminally insane. Either that, or he's been bought…again. Frankly, given his traumatic background, there's nothing to keep a man like him honest for long…"
"How many of our warren where with you when this happened?" asked Ash, eager to learn exactly which of his people had survived the destruction of Sandleford. Robbins gave him all the names he could remember, several of which Ash identified as friends and Owsla comrades, or just simple acquaintances or neighbours. His companions looked shocked and outraged at this realisation. Jamie however, couldn't help but feel that something just didn't add up to Robbins' story.
"You said Johnson sold you out to some hostiles?" he asked, "But why would he do that?" By the sound of it, Robbins and his companions had teamed up with the homeless Sandlefordians, like he had done with Ash and his friends, because it would benefit both parties and give them all a better chance of survival. Johnson betraying them like that didn't sound like something that was in his best interests, given his situation. Robbins however, didn't seem to have the faintest doubt whatsoever.
"That fellow is mad as a Hatter, kid," snapped Robbins impatiently, getting tired of Jamie's questions, "For crying out loud, he even confessed to have murdered his family last year, when his wife discovered his secret allegiance! It was only because of his slimy accomplice Shaw, who admitted to have forsworn on his behalf at the trial that he got away with it then…" Jamie frowned; he had heard the details of that trial on the news. But there was something else he had to know.
"What about my father?" asked the boy, dreading the answer. If this Johnson fellow was a traitor and a killer, perhaps his father had ended up another of his victims, like his wife and daughter? Robbins paused for a moment, as if deep in thought, before explaining in a more sympathetic tone.
"Your father was among those captured alive," he finally admitted, "I suspect he's still being held prisoner by those Efrafans, along with the others. That's all I know." Although obviously not the best of news, Jamie was utterly relieved to learn that his father was still alive and that his search was still on.
Robbins led them towards the entrance to the warren. Hearing them approaching, a large rabbit – apparently the Chief - with bushy white fur, emerged from the run to greet them. Jamie was half-expecting their host to gasp in surprise and fear at the sight of the two humans standing outside the entrance to his home; to his utmost surprise however, the rabbit simply flashed them a chilling grin, a faraway look in his eyes.
"Welcome, welcome friends," he chanted in a sickly sweet, sing-song voice, which gave Jamie the creeps, "Greetings all. It's so nice of you to call. Well, well, well, back so soon my good friend Robbins? Ah, I see you've brought some new friends along to embrace my hospitality. How charming," he added, staring at Jamie and his group, faces unfamiliar to him, with a slight frown, "Although I do hope they prove more…grateful than their predecessors…"
"Ah, yes, thank you Cowslip," Robbins said hastily, cutting off the rabbit Cowslip's speech. Jamie was wondering what the rabbit had been referring to, about having had some ungrateful visitors in the past, before Cowslip ushered them below ground, into his warren.
They ventured down the run, into some sort of underground grotto, which seemed to be the warren's main chamber. Resembling a massive air pocket in the ground, the chamber was held up by the roots of massive trees that stood on the hillside above the warren. The walls were embedded with some strange coloured stones, which Jamie recognised as shattered fragments of brick, concrete, porcelain, glass and other man-made materials, which was all that was left of his long-gone hometown, now nothing more than a layer of shattered, fossilised fragments tucked beneath the earth, where the warren now penetrated.
Lying comfortably around the chamber were several plumb rabbits, staring mildly at the newcomers. They too, Jamie noted, had vague and blank expressions in their eyes, almost as if in a trance, hardly acknowledging Jamie and his friends, much less the fact that he and Robbins were humans. However, he failed to notice a pale ginger doe, with a worried expression on her face, try and get their attention as they walked by; a stern glare from Cowslip, who was following right behind, made her fall silent and she resumed his trance like everyone else.
Surprisingly enough, the warren seemed to have plenty of vacant burrows, which Cowslip eagerly offered up to his newly arrived guests. Even better, there was plenty of food to spare, something Ash and his friends had been craving for, as they hadn't eaten since before the destruction of their home warren.
Half an hour later, with Celandine, Willow and Nightshade having drifted off to sleep, exhausted from their ordeal, as well as their journey, Jamie went aside with Ash and Robbins, to discuss their next step. Now that Jamie knew his father could still be alive, he would have to find him and fast. It was his only hope of finding a way back home again. And with that madman Johnson on the loose out there, made it all the more imperative to act without delay. Mr Robbins seemed to be thinking along the same lines, as he outlined his plan to his new companions.
"Our best bet of getting back is the same way we came in; by flying. For that, we'll need to retrieve the Cessna that brought me here," he said, "Unfortunately, Johnson is already one step ahead of us; he has retrieved the plane and taken it back to the hostiles' warren for safekeeping."
"We saw the plane from the woods," Jamie said, remembering trying unsuccessfully to signal it that morning, "But if Johnson has it, then why hasn't he tried getting back already? Does this mean we can't get back at all?"
"No, at least I don't think so," Robbins admitted, "In my professional opinion, Johnson has found the perfect place of refuge in this world. If he goes back, he knows he will be hunted down and arrested for murder; over here, he is out of reach from the law for good. What about your glider? Can it still fly?" Jamie shook his head.
"Batteries are dead," the boy explained sadly, "That glider is grounded for good…" He didn't need an experienced aviator to tell him his glider wasn't going anywhere; without the electric motor or some other means of producing thrust, there was no way to take off again. Although it could glide without power, if given the right winds, it couldn't possibly defy the force of gravity and take flight without power. Robbins however smiled as he pulled out a peculiar gadget from his pocket.
A pair of high-voltage points protruded from the sneaker-sized black object that Robbins held in his hand. Jamie had seen several versions of that nasty artefact on television, but never up close before: it was a Taser, or stun gun, undoubtedly another gadget from Robbins' Secret Service arsenal.
"This little baby saved my skin the other day," smiled the man nastily, hitting the safety switch to produce a spark between the points, "I believe its cell will make a fine alternate power source to get your glider airborne again." Jamie felt his hopes rise; although he didn't know much about electronics, he knew the Taser definitely had a high voltage source, probably sufficient enough to get the glider motor running again.
Borrowing Jamie's Swiss Army knife, Robbins got to work taking his Taser apart, to extract the battery. Soon, the cell-phone sized cell lay clutched in his hand. The easy part was done; now it was time for the hard one.
Leaving the rest of their companions to their slumber, Robbins, Jamie, Hannah, Snitter and Ash, hurried out to return to the glider for the repairs. Laying out the contents of Jamie's survival kit on a tombstone, from which they would have to improvise the tools they would need, they got to work.
Using the screwdriver from Jamie's pocketknife, they opened up the cover of the power unit encased in the fuselage beneath the motor assembly. Inside they could see two 12-volt rechargeable batteries, wired up to a voltage multiplier, which automatically converted the low-voltage DC the batteries produced to a high-voltage AC at the frequency the motor required.
On Robbins' instructions, and with Hannah handing Jamie tools and components, they disconnected the dead batteries from the assembly; then, using a strip of snare wire from Jamie's kit, they cut it up into strands for a pair of short power cables, which could withstand the power surge. These in turn were soldered to the flat Taser battery terminals and the other ends screwed into the power sockets of the capacitor where the batteries were usually wired. The newly rigged assembly was securely strapped together with duct tape, preventing the likelihood of turbulence disrupting the circuit on take-off and causing a crash.
An hour and two scorched index fingers later, the glider was ready for testing. Would it work? Although the capacitor was designed to withstand a wide range of electrical frequencies and was fitted with safety fuses to interrupt power surges, there was no guarantee that it would work. Although the battery was of a similar voltage as the original, it was drastically smaller in size and seemingly unlikely to power up a device of that size, converter or not. Or, worse still, if it was a misfit, it could cause a short-circuit or a power surge that would blow the fuse, rending the motor beyond repair.
Switching off all unnecessary systems, to compensate for the load on the small battery, Jamie prepared for a test start. Taking a deep breath, on Robbins' command, he hit the starter switch. He half-expected to see a burst of sparks shoot out from under the switch, where the fuse was, but it didn't happen. Instead, the motor gave a whirring sound and begun spinning; not as good as with the original heavy cells, but enough for one more take-off. Quickly powering down, to conserve their precious few minutes, if not seconds, of power, Robbins announced the glider ready for flight.
"Let's go get the others," Jamie said excitedly. The time had come to resume the search for his father. "It's time to hit the road again…" But Robbins stopped him.
"Sorry kid, but I can't let you come with me. It's better if I go alone," he said, his voice firm, "You simply don't have the experience for such a dangerous escapade; I, on the other hand, have had years of intense, professional training…"
"But it's my father out there!" Jamie protested, "I must come along, at my own risk if I have to…!"
"The weight of another passenger would overtax the glider motor and the hostiles' warren is several miles south of here; the less weight, the farther it will get without power. Also, I need you and your friends stationed on this end, to cover my back…so to speak."
"How to you possibly expect us to cover your back by hiding here, while you are off on your own, fighting our fight?" Hannah snapped incredulously. Ignoring her, Robbins explained to Jamie.
"I need you to keep a signal fire burning for several hours every evening outside the warren, until I return. Since we have no communication, I'll need some sort of homing signal to help me find my way back with any survivors. Also, I need you to start clearing a runway for the Cessna; if I can retrieve the plane, I'll come back for you." But Jamie was still far from reassured.
"What if something goes wrong? What if the hostiles return for another attack while you're gone? I don't even have a weapon…" Although irritated, Robbins explained.
"Keep your glider distress beacon on all the time," he instructed, "This way, I'll be able to track your signal on the Cessna's radio. If trouble arouses, turn it off and I will know there is trouble. Also, it will give us a better chance of being spotted by another rescue party that may come looking for us." Although still disappointed at not being allowed to join in the search, Jamie finally gave in, realising he would be of more help here than out there, where he'd probably be a liability to Robbins.
"Don't you worry son," replied the man reassuringly, "If your father is still alive, I'll bring him back safely. And I'll give that miserable bastard Johnson his just deserts at the first opportunity I get…" He turned to look at the setting sun.
"It's going to be dark soon," he said, "I suggest we sleep here tonight and I'll set off at first light, so I'll have a whole day's worth of sunlight to travel by." They turned and headed back to the warren to get some shut-eye. Lost in thoughts of his father's fate, Jamie didn't notice Snitter suddenly start barking and growling in the direction of the forest, almost as if they were being watched by some unseen spectator he alone could scent…
That night, Jamie drifted off to sleep, thinking about his future. Although relieved to have finally found a safe place to stay, not to mention having picked up his father's trail, there was no way as far as he could tell, of getting back to his home time, even if he did find his father. Never again would he enjoy the pleasures of Classics Illustrated comic books, of the Internet, of television, of bicycles, of flush toilets, of fast food, of his mother's love and devotion…
Forcibly holding back a tear, reminding himself that it was pointless dwelling on things that couldn't be changed, and that he would need all his strength if he wished to survive now, he drifted off to sleep, haunted by nightmares of his father being killed by Johnson, who then morphs into Robbins and then a gigantic one-eyed rabbit with a fierce stare…
After waiting several hours to ensure everyone in the warren was asleep, Robbins got up and headed back outside, where he met Cowslip, who was waiting to bid him farewell. Unbeknownst to Jamie or his group, Robbins had been scheming against them from the start, and was now ready to set his own plans in motion.
"You know what I expect you to do?" he asked his associate, keeping his voice to a minimum, in case someone below was awake and eavesdropping, "Woundwort and I don't need any unwelcome… liabilities on the loose, while we take care of Johnson and his friends." Cowslip, who had worked as Robbins' accessory on a similar occasion, not so long ago, nodded with an evil smile on his face.
"Never you fear my dear Robbins," replied the sly rabbit in a voice that sounded much like the hiss of a deadly snake about to strike, "Our young friend will soon go the same…dignified way as my peaceful, foolish people. You will never see him again. On one condition though…" he added, his expression suddenly cold and serious.
"Name it."
"I understand your friend General Woundwort is after those ithel and their hlessil sidekicks that tried to deceive me. In exchange for relieving you of this…hindrance you wish to be rid of, I ask that you personally see to it that the traitors Strawberry, Nildrohein and Silverweed, who fled my warren in cowardly betrayal, are dealt with…properly."
"Don't give it a second thought pal," replied Robbins with a similarly cold sneer, remembering the rabbits that had deserted and joined Johnson's party on his last visit, "Woundwort and his army will soon make short work of the lot of them once we catch up with them. If they are lucky, maybe they'll get a mass unmarked grave for their remains to go in, once we're through with them!" Robbins and Cowslip chuckled evilly.
Bidding Cowslip farewell, Robbins turned and left the warren, heading towards the edge of the woods, to meet with his secret associates, whom he knew, had been watching them all afternoon but had remained out of sight, without intervening, as per his instructions, awaiting further information on the newly arrived strangers.
Robbins crawled into a secluded spot under some bushes, which was already occupied by three mean-looking rabbits. The first was gigantically large in size, with tar-black fur and a pair of sinister mismatched eyes; one was glaring red like a burning amber and the other milk-white, dead from an old conflict blow that had also left the ugly scarring on the creature's face, which expressed raw power and naked hatred. The second rabbit had similarly dark fur, but, in direct contrast to his master, was a sickly weakling in size, with an evil, blood-curdling sneer on his face. The third was a well-built buck with brown fur and deep green eyes, yet, in direct contrast to both his companions, merely had a stern, rather than an evil, expression on his face, indicating a warm heart suppressed by a strict code of blind loyalty.
"Well, Robbins? Who are they?" asked the leader rabbit General Woundwort, who had recently enlisted Robbins as his ally, after the traitorous man - rather than Johnson - had betrayed and unsuccessfully attempted to murder his companions. It had been only by a complete stroke of luck that an attacking hawk had interrupted his plans, nearly killing him in the process, yet making Johnson's party believe he was dead, allowing him to withdraw and plot revenge from the shadows. By coincidence, he had also met the same Efrafan Wide Patrol, led by Captain Vervain, which had had a previous confrontation with Johnson, making them as vengeful as Robbins, and finding himself some willing allies in the process.
After making a hasty agreement, his new associates had brought him back to Efrafa before General Woundwort. After convincing the evil warlord that Johnson was a grave threat to his power and meant to bring trouble on Efrafa, Woundwort had enlisted his help to overthrow his lurking foe, in exchange for immunity from his wrath, which was the usual fate of any outsiders that run foul of the General's patrols, particularly humans.
On the man's directions, they had returned to where Robbins had last seen his companions-turned-enemies. However, instead than finding Johnson's party, who had since pressed on, they had spotted Jamie's glider on the horizon. Not missing the opportunity, Robbins had instructed his associates to take cover and remain out of sight, while he went to investigate and report back after dark.
"Well, General," he said, slightly stressing the title as if it were something distasteful, "It seems our newcomers are just a lost kid from my time and another bunch of outcasts he picked up. Nothing of importance to us…"
"Nothing of importance?" snapped the skinny rabbit incredulously, "You know the General's stature law: 'any outsiders that see an Efrafan or any other rabbit in the servitude of General Woundwort, henceforth belong to Efrafa, at the General's pleasure, regardless of rank or nationality.' Need I remind you, it is furthermore a capital offence to attempt to conceal strangers…?" But his master cut him off.
"I can speak for myself Captain Vervain. You hold your tongue!" barked General Woundwort and his runty Captain of Owslafa instantly fell silent. He turned to Robbins.
"What is that…young ithe doing here? What does he want?" he asked his human ally and spy, who explained that Jamie was Major McEwen's son out looking for his father, whom they were currently hunting down to kill, along with the rest of Johnson's group.
"That ithe is the son of one of our enemies?" screeched Vervain, "Then he is another potential threat that has to be eliminated before he becomes a liability…!"
"Already taken care of," interrupted Robbins arrogantly, "You really think I was dumb enough not to have thought about this contingency already? However, I think it would be a waste of our time going after him directly; Johnson has already got two days start on us, he knows about Efrafa, and intends to confront us before we do him. That stupid little weasel on the other hand, doesn't realise he is on the brink of a meat grinder over here; I have given specific instructions to Cowslip to make sure his savage custodians pick him up on their next visit, which won't be very long coming, given that Johnson foiled the previous one. Saves us the trouble…"
"I agree with Robbins," added Captain Campion grimly, yet frowning slightly at Robbins' cruel plan of leaving a child to suffer such a terrible death, "By the sound of it, that young ithe is just a lost wonderer, who knows nothing about us; he can go his way. The outsiders however, are a far greater threat to us, given that they know we're coming for them and might be setting up defences right now to fight us when we do." Woundwort seemed to be thinking along the same lines as he turned to his companions.
"Then we better get moving at once," he said, getting up, "Our next stop is Watership Down. And on the way," he added with a slight growl of irritation, "Robbins can take his time to explain why he dragged us all the way out here for nothing. As I recall, I expected him to lead us directly to the outsiders, without making any pointless detours on the way." Robbins however, who had been expecting this topic to come up, the moment he had realised Johnson and his friends had long since fled Cowslip's warren, smirked.
"I would hardly call it a pointless detour General," he smiled triumphantly, "As of this moment, we have a further advantage over the enemy; a little token entrusted to me by that gullible little twerp. Right this way." He led his companions to the edge of the graveyard, where Jamie's newly repaired glider sat waiting for tomorrow's flight; except the flight was now taking off ahead of schedule.
With Woundwort seated in the comfortable passenger seat in the back, and with Vervain and Campion strapped down onto the wings, Robbins prepared for take-off. Now running on its improvised replacement battery, the glider taxied across the deserted field and soared skywards, heading south towards Watership Down, in the hands of its new owners.
Author's note: I remind you that this event is taking place around the time Alan and co had discovered the HAB. In the first story, Robbins returns to salvage the cores in the original timeline; this is set in the new timeline Alan and co created by travelling back in time and changing the future. On a side note, to avoid the proofreading problems I had with my previous story, I have gone back and ended the first chapters, as well as added a few extra scenes in chapter 2. Enjoy and PLEASE REVIEW!