It was nearly dawn. The night sky looked washed of its colour. A few minutes later it started to spit with rain. Water droplets fell on Angus' face and he stirred again. His throat was dry, his mouth was sticky, and if he spoke his voice would be hoarse, so he felt like a drink. Moreover, he hated the rain. It felt too much like the little clumps of earth falling on his flanks back down in the tunnels. So Angus got to his feet surprisingly easily and realised that perhaps he wasn't going to die after all. He felt both relaxed and fatigued at the same time. But that was normal for him.

Angus had surfaced in the corn. The harvest was a long time away so the corn wasn't fully-grown yet. Angus saw the battered top of the ambulance over the ears of corn and his brow furrowed. He knew what it was immediately, but he didn't know why it was where it was. He picked his way through the corn and headed in its direction. The acrid burning smell returned to haunt his nostrils.

When he reached the edge of the corn, there wasn't another rabbit in sight. Angus was weary, having not slept for two nights, so at first he didn't think this was strange. After all, it was dawn, when the other rabbits usually went to bed. Angus was breathing heavily, almost snorting. Suddenly a tiny crumb of earth caught between his whiskers shot up his nose. He sneezed. Then he remembered. The other rabbits couldn't go to bed. Their beds weren't there anymore. For a brief second, he was stuck with the nightmarish image that for some reason, instead of grazing when the warren collapsed, the rest of the rabbits had also been caught underground.

Then what he saw next distracted him. One of the rear doors of the ambulance was open and lying on the ground beneath was a man wrapped in yellow plastic. Angus hesitated. He watched the figure intently. Either his loose yellow clothing flapped in the wind, or he was still breathing. But there was no wind, not even enough to make the corn rustle at Angus' back.

Angus had been this close to a human being once before, not too long ago. He'd been collecting and eating berries in the hedgerow on one of his lonely daytime sojourns when a car stopped at the roadside, a man climbed through the bushes and then urinated all over the entrance to the warren. Angus sat and watched him from beneath some brambles and thought how peculiarly fascinating these creatures were that went into bushes to hide their very natures from each other.

Angus walked over to the yellow man. The paramedic lay on his front, his arms and legs spread-eagled as if he was climbing a sheer rock-face. His face was turned to one side, away from Angus. Angus stopped. He listened to the man's sticky wheeze. He was having difficulty breathing.

Angus got closer, but stayed away from the man's arms. The rabbits knew it was with their hands that humans exerted control over their wheeled beasts. Angus went around his legs, sniffing at the plastic as he passed, then stopped right by the man's visor. It had a strange reflective surface. For a second Angus saw himself looking back and for another second he thought there was a second rabbit trapped inside. But then he looked beyond his own warped reflection and saw the dull, clammy features of a man in pain.

Suddenly something moved beneath the oak tree. Angus saw it out of the corner of his eye. He froze. He swivelled his eyes so hard in its direction they began to ache. Then he heard muffled rabbit speak coming from inside the flaccid hood and turned his head and frowned. Benjamin Bunny emerged a second later.

"Hey, where'd everybody go?" he wondered.

"What are you doing over there?" Angus snapped.

"I was just playin'..." Benjamin muttered. The ambulance was between him and Angus, but then he spotted the paramedic's arm draped out close to one of the rear wheels. "Hey, there's another one!" He hopped over.

"Keep back, Benjamin!" Angus cried.

"Nah, it's all right," Benjamin said confidently, then he ran up the man's arm and bounced up and down on his back. Angus looked aghast.

"You can't do that!" said Angus.

"Why not? He don't mind. He's dead."

Suddenly the man groaned inside his hood. Benjamin leapt straight off and scurried behind Angus, who froze once more. The paramedic's trembling, gloved fingers pawed at the ground. His breathing became deeper and louder. Then he held his breath, tensed the muscles in his arms and reared up. Benjamin ran away, but Angus stayed exactly where he was. The man tore off his hood, threw it aside and cried out. It was a horrible, primal cry and chilled Angus rather than scared him.

The man slowly pulled himself over. He winced and seized his right knee in his hands. Angus noticed the joint was twisted the wrong way round. His left ankle was the same. The paramedic turned himself over, gently whimpering under his breath. Then he slumped back against the door of the ambulance that was still closed. He gasped for air like he was exhausted and he looked intoxicated, his head rocking from side to side before banging back against the door. Before he appeared to lose consciousness again, he seemed to see Angus sitting there. He grinned.

Angus dared to move again. He got closer. The man's parched lips were still moving, but there wasn't enough breath in his lungs to carry the whisper. Angus stopped near the paramedic's still hand and watched. The man was repeating the same word at regular intervals. Angus noted how his lips moved. The word had two syllables. Rabbits don't speak the way people do, using their lips and tongues to articulate sounds, so Angus didn't understand him.

Suddenly the hand nearest him lurched, but Angus wasn't afraid. He didn't move. The paramedic opened his heavy eyelids a bit and saw him there. Then he lifted his hand past Angus and reached over his shoulder, trying to find something on the floor of the ambulance. Angus peered past. There was a blue plastic flask just inside the door. The lid was off and liquid had spilled out and splashed across the ambulance. Then the paramedic collapsed in exhaustion again. Angus realised what he was trying to say. The word was 'water'.

Benjamin ran through the hedgerow. He suddenly found the rest of the warren when he broke through the other side. Many were huddled in the long grass along the A12, gathered around the roadside entrance to the warren. They all looked tired and uncomfortable with being outside at sunrise. Benjamin squeezed past and went down into the tunnel. There were rabbits there too, pressed up against the wall and crammed in nose to tail. Nobody spoke. Benjamin heard Peter's voice and headed for it.

"I can't understand what happened," Peter told the elders.

The deeper Benjamin went, the less rabbits there were. When he finally found Peter, he was standing before a dead-end, where the tunnel used to continue but now ended. There were five elders with him. Mark, Tom and Travis hung around the entrance and Nicholas pouted from a safe distance.

"This is unprecedented," Peter continued.

"But this was caused by the crash?" one of the old boys asked.

"I can't see how," Peter said. Benjamin bounded over, ran a circle round him and then backed away from the glares of the grizzled elders of the colony. Peter continued, "We should be safe down here. Obviously, the fault is in our construction. This could have happened at any time."

"But it was precipitated by the crash?"

"I didn't say that. I don't know."

One of the bruisers growled in his throat. He'd remained characteristically silent since they fled from the man falling out of the ambulance and came down here to inspect the damage for themselves. "If Alexander's dead, then we need new leadership," he said in his gravelly voice.

Peter thought he was looking at him, but then he heard a high pitched snort over his shoulder and realised the old bruiser, who was ironically called Hazel, was looking at Nicholas. "I'd also like to be considered," Peter said.

"Would you now?" said Hazel. He lifted an eyebrow and looked around the other elders. They looked back blankly. Hazel could never have a blank expression. He had been injured in a fight when younger and cut his mouth. It had healed, but now he had a permanent sneer. He also had a lazy eye.

"What would you do for the warren?" another elder asked.

"Well, rebuild it, for a start," Peter said.

"That's a given," Hazel said quickly. "What would you do different?"

"Well, I'd build it differently. Bigger. Stronger. We were expanding too fast for the warren to cope. But hey, we're rabbits, aren't we? We just have to factor that into our plans and build accordingly."

"And what about your plans for mankind, Peter?" a third elder joined in. "You were telling us all about them earlier tonight. Do you intend to continue?"

Peter looked across at her. Her name was Genevieve. She was the oldest female in the warren and one of the most respected. The other elders murmured in concurrence with her concerns. "If I didn't think I could represent the majority of rabbits then I wouldn't even contend," Peter said diplomatically.

Nicholas stomped forward. "I, on the other hand," he squeaked. "Will give the others what they need, what they already know they need, and not what they want, or what they've been told they can have, by certain... crusaders." He looked at Peter.

"What is it they need now, Nicholas?" Genevieve asked.

"More than anything else?" Nicholas said. "A place to sleep in safety. Under my leadership we will build the warren bigger, stronger and deeper."

"That's what I said," Peter murmured.

Hazel didn't hear him. "But as I said to Peter," he went on. "That's a given. What would you do differently?

Nicholas paused for a moment. "Well, nothing," he said. "I'd just carry on Alexander's great work and continue his legacy."

"Didn't Alexander's legacy get him killed?" Genevieve asked. She had a lilt to her voice that suggested to Peter she didn't really have any belief that the answer to her own question could be 'yes'.

"No," Nicholas said through clenched teeth. "Peter Rabbit's meddling got Alexander killed..."

The elders all looked around each other blankly again. Peter felt his blood hot up. He just wanted to bury a claw or two in Nicholas' scraggy fur coat. Nicholas was the safe option. Peter's argument was based around his own perception of the warren's future. Nicholas' campaign was based around his own perception of Peter. The elders stopped looking at each other.

"We must see if Angus is still alive and hold a council of rabbits," Hazel announced. Both Peter and Nicholas knew what this meant. Alexander had only came to power immediately prior to Travis, Tom and Mark's exile, so the seven elders required to form a council were probably the same ones.

"I await your decision in earnest," Peter said, stepping out of their way.

"I put my entire faith in your wisdom," Nicholas added.

The five elders left solemnly in file and Nicholas tagged on behind like he was already one of them. As soon as they were gone, Mark, Tom and Travis came over and Benjamin started running around Peter again.

"If you lose..." Mark began. He didn't need to finish.

"Yes, I know," Peter said. "And I'll be out with you."

"Who would want Nicholas as leader?" said Travis. "He's a whining runt."

"Travis!" Mark and Tom cried together.

"What? What? I said 'runt'!"

Peter chewed his tongue philosophically. "I figure if they choose him over me it'll be for the same reason they chose Alexander over me last time round," he said. "They saw Alexander as a younger version of themselves and they see Nicholas as a younger version of Alexander."

"A much younger version," Mark added.

"Quite," said Peter.

"Too young."

"I think you'd make a great leader, Pete," Benjamin said with a sigh. He stopped running in circles and sat down, his body swaying in circles as his head swam. "I'd pick you over Nicholas any day."

"Unfortunately, you don't get a say in it this time," Peter said.

"Why not? Am I too young?"

"Yes. Most of us are." Peter frowned. He'd never really thought about how unrepresentative rabbit elections were. "Only the seven eldest rabbits get to pick the next leader. They're assumed to be the wisest and have the best interests of the warren at heart, I suppose. Anybody can stand, but the final choice is theirs."

Mark smirked. "I remember there were thirty seven candidates last time."

"Yes." Peter remembered it too. "Though it was really only between me and Alexander in the end. You're too young to remember that, aren't you, Benjamin?"

Benjamin nodded happily.

Just then another rabbit bounded down the tunnel and skidded to a halt in front of Peter. "Quickly! Come and look!" he said between gasps for air. "You just have to see this!" Then he turned round and started running again.

Peter ran after him. The others followed. "What is it?" he called.

"It's Angus!"

Rabbits were already sleeping along the edge of the tunnel to the surface. The noisy rabbit leading them skidded again by the roadside and turned round and went through the hedgerow. Few of the rabbits Benjamin had seen in the long grass were still there. They were now on the other side of the hedgerow, watching Angus.

Peter broke through, closing his eyes to the leaves and branches of the hedgerow. He too skidded to a stop when he reached the other side and saw where Angus was standing. He gaped. There were dozens of rabbits standing in silence on the edge of the cornfield. Even Benjamin stopped bouncing in shock.

Angus stood on the paramedic's right shoulder. He dipped his head into the ambulance, lapped up some water from the floor, then leant back on his hind legs. The paramedic's head was tipped back. Angus dribbled water into his mouth.

NOTES:
This chapter took almost a week to write, but then, I do have perfectly valid excuses for that. It wasn't really complex. Like the last chapter, it's more a case of getting to a certain point in the next chapter or two that turns everything on it's head. Having a break from writing and taking it at less of a breakneck pace also made it easier to write 1500 words in one morning.

My skewed rabbit democracy is based on the US electoral college, which decides the results of US general elections. Someone did explain this to me but it makes absolutely no sense (they were also trying to justify it at the time). The US government doesn't trust it's people to make the 'right' choice, so it sticks a bunch of civil servants in the way that vaguely represent different states and they decide who becomes US President. Usually they vote the way of the public. In 2000, Bush and Gore came so close (Gore only got a five figure majority) the electoral college result was different to the popular vote. Despite what people say, Dubya isn't an illegal president, because the electoral college is protected by American law - he just isn't a democratic one.

The name Hazel is taken from "Watership Down". I think it's the lead male character, voiced by John Hurt in the animated movie. The line "I said 'runt'!" is lifted directly from "Family Guy" and is said by Brian the dog in the same context. Out of place, maybe.