5 The Chase

The Chase

It didn't get off to a strong start.  Jacques and Mrs. Trufflebottom had no familiarity with the town, which left them at a disadvantage at every turn.  The visibility was also poor, and it soon became clear that there was no chance of success. 

Yet the fact that their quarry hadn't already vanished into the shadows was strange.  Just when they would reach the end of a road, a swish of a tail around a corner tipped them off that these Angel Marbles were still just a few steps out of reach.

Breathing heavy, Jacques grasped onto a street lamp that looked like it hadn't been used in several seasons.  He scanned from window to window of the neighboring buildings.  "They're just playing with us.  They could have gotten away easily."  He gave it a firm shake for effect before adding, "It sure would help if these things were on."

"All the ones I've seen have been dark.  But that gives me an idea, " she said, leaning close to whisper in his ear.  She kissed him dramatically,  as if that had been her only intention along.

He gave her paw a squeeze, paired with the tiniest of smirks.  He knew what to do.  She pushed her body away from him and spoke again, but this time loud enough to be easily overheard in the storm.  "We need to split up! It's two against three; we'll never catch them this way!"

Snickering was heard from the far side of a stack of barrels on the corner.   Someone had indeed overheard - and did not understand the plan at all.

****

They trotted off after the self-proclaimed Angel Marbles once again, but now armed with the knowledge that they were both the hunters and the hunted.  Their opponents' apparent interest in them might give them an opening,  and the chance to spring a trap of their own. 

Jacques, being the more nimble and agile of the two, made a show of taking to the  roof as soon as he could find the right foothold.  A rain gutter gave him all the climbing holds he needed - and every home had them readily accessible.   Paw-over-paw he went, careful with the slick surface, until he was atop the home.

Getting his weight under him, he straightened; rain spattering against him as he saw Outpost from above for the first time. The town was much larger than it had looked from the road, and roofs pushed back right to the cliff side.  But Jacques could also see something they hadn't seen from the ground - there was light coming from several of the homes.

Kindel had been right -this was no ghost town.  There was life here.  They apparently just kept to themselves.  Those that could, anyway.  Those that didn't have a roof over their heads...

He wanted to find out what was going on here.  He wanted to help these kids, if he could.  But first and foremost he needed to get their supplies back. And all of these things would start by being able to talk to one of them.
Separating himself from his thoughts, which took a concerted effort, he returned to the plan.  By now Mrs Trufflebottom would be in place, and it was his turn to get the attention on himself.  Show time.

*****

A Mousefolk on the roof?   In their quiet town? Keen for this being some sort of trick, they kept a close watch on his companion by the street lamp, ready for her to make a move.  So far she may as well be another part of the scenery for how still she was.  What were they up to?

The Mousefolk had started pacing; marching from the edge to the other and back again.  His paw was to his brow like the lookout of a ship, peering deeply into the city.  What was he looking for?  The Marbles' leader stole a glance - she'd almost forgot - but the Rabbitfolk's robe was still just as visible skulking on the corner.  She snorted.  Were they trying to bore them to death?   What a silly plan.

Jacques was now dancing, an improvised jig he could only hope looked absurd enough to keep watching .  He couldn't see Mrs. Trufflebottom, but he hoped she would make her move soon.

Their leader had apparently also tired of the game.  "You lose, friend!"  She shouted to the roof top.  "We aren't dumb enough to come up there, and we can see your friend on the corner plain as anything.  You can't catch us.  This round is ours.  Better luck next time!"

She placed two fingers in her mouth and gave a shrill whistle, turned, and began to run.

She achieved almost three steps before her face was completely engulfed in a wet, furry fluff.  With a smacking noise she lost all momentum and fell into embracing arms; dazed.

Mrs. Trufflebottom held onto her tightly, but her words were warm - as though between friends.  "Sorry, this round goes to us.  And I think as a prize it's time we had a talk.'

Her captive shook but was held both gentle and firm.  "What?  How?"  The quixotic Mousefolk was descending carefully down the gutter again.  And the Rabbitfolk's robe could still be seen on the street corner -  unmoving as ever.  Carefully draped over the lamp before she slipped away, it had made a useful decoy. 

She groaned.  "Fine.  Follow me. And bring food."

*****

They followed the kids down a long path that must have been one of the more well-traveled routes when Outpost had briefly flourished.  Rather than homes it was lined with storefronts - all of them now shut, many with boarded windows.  They headed in "Soaks of the Sun!" - a bathhouse that clearly no longer contained either of these things.

They took up seats around one of the dried bath basin as the de facto leader drew a small glow from the lamp above.  So this was one of the buildings with lighting as well, it seemed.  She pulled her hood free of her head, revealing two pointy ears not dissimilar from Mrs. Trufflebottom's.  She spoke first, as Jacques assumed she would.  "Did you bring food?"

He half-laughed, and then realized they must be starving to even be asking.  He put on his serious face again.  "No, we followed you straight over, remember?  We can help you get food though."

"Why should we trust you?  You've been chasing us!" Another accused.

"That's right, Meatball.  Why should we trust any of you, anyway?"  The leader asked, a wary look back in her eyes.

"We've been following you," Jacques noticed Mrs. Trufflebottom didn't use the word 'chase' in her reply, "because we think you may have some of our things, and we need them back."

There were murmurs of dissent, but the promise of food may have already won them over.  The leader called them in and the three muttered and whispered and made cryptic hand gestures.  Finally they all nodded at the same time.

"It's settled.  You may have your stuff back, but only if you can beat us in a game."

They shrugged.  There was really no other option.  "Ok.  What's the game?"

"Angel marbles."