Elba had taken off again. Just before dinner, he'd received a call from an unknown number and disappeared into his bedroom before picking it up. Two minutes later he'd taken off in the car, taking his files with him. He'd had the aura on a mammal on edge as he left, promising to return later tonight. His aura had been infectious, leaving Ben with a sense of dread he'd hoped a hot stint in the shower would ease. He'd told himself it was no longer his business. Whatever Elba was doing, whatever it had to do with the creature in the drawing, he could handle himself. And if the phone calls were any indication, he wasn't handling it alone.

Ben heard Try Everything blare from his phone as he was rubbing the soft towel over his fur and walked out the bathroom to see it vibrating on the bedside table. The draught let in through the still-wrecked kitchen chilled the fur not covered by his clothes. "Hello?" He spoke upon picking up and seeing it was Nick.

"Hey, Benji." Nick sounded strangely relieved to hear from him. "How's the vacation going?"

Ben smiled. When was that fox gonna get it in his big red head that he was forgiven? "Nick, you know that's not what it is! Mayor Elba's here for a very important meeting."

"Meetings. Plural. What did you say Elba was doing again?"

"It's the Zoonited States Conference of Mayors."

"The what?"

"Zoonited States Conference of Mayors."

"Now five times fast."

"Oh no, I'm not doing that again! 'Toy Boat' was hard enough."

"Can't blame a fox for trying… Everything okay over there?"

Ben felt anxiety twinge at his chest like a guitar string. He thought of Sedor. He thought of the drawing in Elba's files. He thought of telling Nick. "Everything's okay… sort of."

"Sort of?"

"Hang on, you first. Those guys still haven't tracked you down?"

"No, we're safe for now… they did nearly catch us at the gas station, but…"

"O M Goodness! That was you guys?! It was on the news, the place was a wreck!"

"It's ok, it's ok, we're all ok…" There was a worrisome pause. Ben stared at the wall in front of him, waiting. Then it came spilling out in a thick downpour of emotion. "No. It's not ok. They killed the cashier before we got here. We found them in the stall. They ambushed us, I got a hold of their gun and… I killed one, Benji!"

Ben felt a cold paw clutch at his heart. "Nick… buddy… say that again."

"I… killed… one of the goons."

Ben's instinctive acknowledgement of the bed behind him was the only reason he allowed his legs to give out and drop him on the mattress.

"I wasn't thinking. They'd killed that cashier. They were trying to kill Judy and they were gonna kill me! Then her parents called and blamed me for all of it and they're right, I caused this, first you now this!"

Nick fell silent. Ben swallowed, his paw tense around the phone as he heard the harsh breaths of a mammal fighting off a panic attack. What would he say?

"Ben?" Nick spoke weakly. "Ben, say something. Please."

The usual phrases passed through his head.

'They didn't give you a choice.'

'It's gonna be ok.'

'It wasn't your fault.'

"I'm a killer, too."

"What did you say?"

The cold around Ben's heart tightened its grip. Did he just say that out loud?

"Oh poop." He breathed.

"What do you mean, you're a killer, too?"

"I- I mean…" Ben felt sick. The memories were coming back. He had to ignore the memories or he'd have a panic attack of his own. "I mean when I shot S edor at the Artic House. Remember?"

"… Holy shit, yeah. But he was wearing his body armor, wasn't he?"

"Yeah, but I didn't know that." Ben felt himself growing calmer from the relief of his lie holding up. "It went down the same way it did with you. This big guy was coming right at me, I panicked and defended myself the only way I could. The gun nearly flew out my paws."

There was a sound that could have been a snigger. "You of all mammals would get their paws on a pawcannon."

"The point is, I was protecting yourself. You were protecting yourself. That doesn't make you the same as them." Ben was well aware that he was parroting words Elba and Bogo had told him every other day when he was undergoing therapy. But they'd worked well enough for him. "Elba and Bogo will understand it was self-defence. They won't let you go back to jail, I promise you that."

"I know… I just don't know how I'm gonna live with this."

"You will." Ben said. If he could live with it, nightmares and all, so could Nick. "I'll help you live with it. Do whatever you're doing in Bunnyburrow and come see me in Florada. You. Me. Honey. Judy. We'll have a real vacation. We'll properly celebrate you leaving house arrest. We'll blast the velvety pipes of Gazelle and Jerry Vole all night. Then when Finnick gets out in a few weeks, we'll do it all again with Dogsmack."

"… Fin would really like that."

Ben felt a yawn coming on. "Anything else you wanna get off your chest? I could really use some beauty sleep."

"Nah, that's about it. Kinda wish I didn't let it all out like that."

"Don't be. I think 'Carrots' likes a sensitive fox."

"I'm gonna hang up the phone now."

"Okay-dokey."

Ben giggled as the dial tone rang in his ear.

Ben woke without a sound, a hum ringing in his ear.

He looked around, taking in the room. No blood. No yellow eyes. Another nightmare. His third one since he found that drawing. Since he saw Sedor in town.

He sat stiff as a board in his bed. It was difficult to get his breathing under control, but he managed within a few minutes. A sob bubbled up in his chest as the terrible truth became apparent.

The nightmares were becoming frequent again. He had no-one to blame but himself. He never should have snooped through Elba's documents.

He pulled the white cover around himself as he sniffled in the darkness. It was a while before he heard the hum again and traced it to the phone on his bedside table. Beside it lay the loaded dart gun Elba had lent him since they'd learned of Sedor's presence in town. Ben couldn't name the drug inside, but apparently it was some sort of paralytic agent, containing just the right dose for an oversized grizzly. Ben hoped he'd never have to use it.

Elba had texted him: On my way home. Twenty minutes. The text had been sent one minute ago. Ben turned to see the time: 11:11pm. It would be a while before he'd be comfortable enough to go back to sleep, so he might as well get up and wait for the mayor in the lounge.

An impulse prompted him to stop by the bathroom and took a look in the mirror above the sink. His golden fur looked pale in the overhead lamp. The night clothes he was wearing, a long-sleeved green shirt and red pants, could easily pass for outdoor clothes. His fur was slightly unkempt, and his eyes were wet, but his face was a lot cleaner that it had been in dreamland.

The nightmare had taken place in this very room, but the bed had been replaced with an oval of blue flame candles.

Dressed in the fancy servant clothes he'd worn for Pottermass's masked ball, the night he'd met Mansa Bogo, Ben was kneeling within the oval at one end.

Kneeling in the other end, clothed in the ragged black robe it had fashioned to protect itself from sunlight, had been Subject Zero.

In a corner of the room where the candlelight could not reach, blood dripped from the stagnant red pool in the ceiling.

Ben was staring at the creature.

The creature was staring right back.

Without a sound it raised a clothed arm, its claws twitched as they reached for Ben's face. The tip of its index touched his mask just below his left eye, then traced down his cheek like a sharp tear. Without cutting the skin the claw slid down his neck, stopping just above his carotid artery.

Subject Zero paused and tilted its head.

Ben felt no fear as the precious vessel pulsed against the lethal finger.

Then Subject Zero had lowered its arm, sparing the feline, and the candles went out.

Ben raised his paw and traced the same path the creature had traced down his face and throat. He should have been afraid. He should have woken up screaming in abject terror. But he'd just woken up confused from his own lack of fear. And that scared him more than the nightmare did.

Ben wiped the clear tears from his eyes, staring at his reflection all the while, and froze. Only now did he realise that he'd forgotten to tell Nick about Sedor. He gripped the sink and sighed. He'd tell Nick tomorrow.

Ben washed the sweat from his paws and wandered out into the hallway. Unable to bear the darkness, he flicked on the lights as he went, passing the polished wooden stairs leading down to the main hall. He stopped by the tall window that was the centrepiece of the villa. The stained glass overlooking the road was open, the air cool and crisp. Insects buzzed and chirred in the direction of the river, making Ben think with a smile of their reptilian burglar. Across the road was a grey van. No-one was in the driver's seat. Ben didn't remember it ever being parked. It must have shown up while he was asleep.

Ben turned away from the window, finding his way to Elba's room. It was empty and dark, and the desk still had some papers left on it. Ben did not approach the desk, having several reasons to avoid violating Elba's privacy again. He walked to the window and leaned against the windowsill. He had the best view of the corner of the road from here, the one Elba used every time he left for the event.

He wasn't sure how much time had passed before he heard the hum of an engine. The road turned bright as the beam of headlights fell upon it. Should Ben tell Elba about the nightmares? He should tell. He knew he should. If there was one thing he learned in the past two years it was that it was better to talk about it.

He caught a glimpse of Elba's troubled face through the windshield as the car turned and slid into the driveway, stopping just outside the closed garage door. The engine turned off, allowing the insects to be heard again.

Then it happened. The van across the road suddenly came to life, turned and reversed into the driveway, trapping Elba's car between it and the garage. In the car, Elba saw the van's action through the rear-view window. Ben watched with a bewilderment that quickly gave way to dawning horror. The rear doors opened, spilling out three mammals dressed in black and wearing motorcycle helmets. Elba clambered out the car, his firearm already in his hoof, and got off a single shot before the group swarmed him.

Ben ran out the bedroom, stopping to look out the next window when he heard a shout of pain. Elba was being pinned against the car, relieved of his weapon by that point. One of the helmeted goons jabbed him with a syringe. Ben shouted Elba's name in horror.

The mammal that sedated him made a signal at one of the others, then turned their hand to point at the villa.

The subordinate unholstered their weapon and stalked toward the front door.

Elba's other gun. In my bedroom.

Ben quickly recalled the layout of the villa. The front door was five feet from the bottom of the stairs. The top of the stairs stood between Ben and his own bedroom. Depending on the strength of the goon, Ben probably had five-ten seconds to get his gun.

Ben heard the front door being kicked down just before he reached the top of the stairs. Despite knowing better he looked down. The sight of the goon at the bottom of the stairs, firearm in hand, filled him with a different but familiar kind of terror.

At the top of the stairs was a woven chair that had been placed to make the place look more cozy. Ben threw it down the steps and ran without seeing if it did anything to slow the goon down.

Elba would be bundled in that van by the time he got to the bedroom made him feel terrified to the point of nausea.

Sedor, you bastard! I knew this would happen, why couldn't you just leave us alone?!

A gun went off. Something shattered, probably the tall vase at the bottom of the stairs. So the goon was using a single-shot weapon. Less bullets meant less chance of him being hit. If he could just get to that dart gun…

The dart gun was still there on the bedside table when he bashed into the bedroom and grabbed it, grabbing his phone for good measure. The door slammed open behind Ben. He threw himself over the bed, hitting the carpet hard enough to bruise his elbows. Somehow, he managed to press the three keys he needed. The voice of the police dispatcher only got two words out before the goon in the helmet caught him.

Ben threw the phone, hitting the goon in the shoulder and throwing off his aim. The bullet hit the floor beside Ben's waist as he scrambled to his feet and grabbed for the goon's pistol. They spun as they struggled, and Ben nearly got the air knocked out of him as he was smashed through the fragile door of the built-in wardrobe. Ben suddenly found himself in darkness, surrounded by clothes. Right in front of his was his own dim reflection in the visor of the motorcycle helmet. All Ben could think about was the firearm they both held, and the goon's agonising grip on his wrist, keeping him from using his dart gun. Ben gritted his teeth as he fought to keep the firearm's barrel from turning toward his throat.

Then he saw the unbroken wardrobe door. Installed in the inside of the door was a couple of elegant but sturdy hooks intended for coats or dresses. With a surge of strength Ben forced the goon's wrist up and forward then jammed it into one of the hooks. It would keep the firearm away for seconds at best. With that tiny window Ben lashed out, punching his attacker's shoulder and spinning him sideways. The goon kept his grip on Ben's other arm, partly dragging him out of the wardrobe interior. With adrenaline surging through him Ben used his free paw to grab the dart gun and pry it from his other paw. His arm swung up and thrust the needle into the gap between the goon's blacket jacket and the helmet.

Ben had once asked Elba how a dart worked, and his explanation had been simple. The dart worked almost exactly like a hypodermic needle, the difference being that the plunger relied on the momentum of its discharge to administer the drug within.

This up close and personal, Ben could see the plunger descend through the clear window that ran down the length of the dart. The goon struggled against the hook his other arm was stuck in, still trying to shoot Ben, but the paralytic was already in effect, leaving the limb too weak to free itself. Instead, with an adrenaline surge of his own, he used his free arm to grab Ben by the throat. Ben set his jaw and held his breath, fearing that the sensation of being choked would become a fatal distraction. The memory of Cunninghorn's big hands around his neck bubbled up but he pushed it back, focusing his attention of the scumbag trying to throttle him right now.

He felt the goon's grip weaken, pulled the hand away from his neck and sucked in a breath sharp with tension. The goon slowly slid down the unbroken wardrobe door.

He pulled out the dart to avoid giving the goon the full lethal dosage and looked at the plunger. It was halfway down. He hoped it would keep the goon down but not dead.

After throwing away the goon's pistol, Ben knelt down and pulled off the helmet. The dazed expression of a wild boar tilted toward the door. Ben looked down the rest of his body, and realised that he wasn't looking at a gangster. The black clothes were too uniform, more militarian than urban. The jacket was unmarked, but it was partly unzipped, exposing a hint of white on the clothing beneath. Ben cautiously pulled the jacket further part, and saw a white word emblazoned over the heart of the goon's chest.

"Nest?" He whispered.

Footsteps, coming up the stairs. Someone must have decided the first goon was taking too long. Ben ran to the door and locked it shut before running onto the balcony. Right below the balcony was the roof of the lower floor. He climbed over the glass rail and slid down the roof into the flowers below. It was a painful descent, but no less painful than being thrown through a wardrobe door. There was another pain in his side, building up as the adrenaline began to wear off, like a hot iron rod being pressed against his flesh. He briefly looked down to see a bloodstain in his shirt. Crud.

He fled across the garden and clambered over the metal fence, the same one the alligator had scaled so it could invade their kitchen. Only afterward did he realise that he'd left his phone in the bedroom.

Elba. You have to be alive. If they wanted you dead, they would have just shot you.

He ran along the top of the steep bank overlooking the river, then forced his way into some thick bushes. He stayed there in the near pitch darkness, a paw over his mouth in case they heard his sharp, heaving breathing and hammering heart.

Eventually, seconds, or maybe minutes later, he saw the flickering pale circle of a powerful flashlight across the river below. He watched it dance across the surface, then freeze over a pair of glowing orbs just above the water. Ben felt the blood drained from his face.

Oh God… not you too…

No, not Subject Zero too. The eyes were too small and far apart…

The eyes of the alligator shone slightly red in the glare of the flashlight before it moved on, swimming farther down the river. The flashlight's beam disappeared soon after that.

Soon after that, Ben heard the rumble of a van driving away. They had gotten away with their real prize.