"Peter, no, wait!" Damien began, but the only voice Peter Rabbit wanted to hear was his daughter's. He shoved Damien into the rape and then charged into the warren, all the while shouting his daughter's name.

"Oh, Damien, you should have told him," Eleanor said in a somewhat surly way as she went over to help her mate up.

"I didn't get a chance to!" he retorted, crabbily rebuking any assistance and rolling himself back over onto his feet. Then he stood up, took several deep breaths and sneezed. "Why does he have to be so pigheaded?"

Eleanor chuckled. "Same old Peter, I guess," she said with a wistful sigh, though she didn't sound too disgruntled about it.

"We need to find him," Damien told Peter's companions.

Mark blinked and looked up. Both he and Tom were frozen to the spot in shock. Even William and Elliot, both of whom held secret desires for Peter's only daughter, had been well and truly thrown by this revelation.

"There's something he needs to know," Damien explained.

"It's about Mopsy," Eleanor added.

"Okay," Mark muttered. Then they all headed down into the tunnels. To find him, they only had to follow his voice. Not even the layers of earth between them could completely muffle the cries of a desperate father.

The warren on the eastern side of the road wasn't so deliberately constructed as the warren on the western side of the road. Its tunnels weren't carefully planned and authorised by the patriarch. They were just built, and if they lasted, they lasted, and if they collapsed, they collapsed. They were therefore thinner, dirtier, wetter, and Peter found he wasn't accustomed to running through them.

He ran through the many twisting passages, reaching several dead ends where rabbits had lost interest in building any further, and turning full circle angrily. As he called out to Mopsy, he started waking rabbits in nearby burrows. They poked their heads out of their holes to see who was causing the cacophony and many ran back in again when they saw what they thought was the ghost of Peter Rabbit.

In the deeper part of the warren, the rumour of his return preceded him. That rabbit with the boggling wide eyes Peter had met on the surface was still running around telling everybody what he'd seen. He was having a hard job convincing one group of half-asleep rabbits when suddenly Peter ran past. That was all the proof they needed. Then they joined the growing number of rabbits chasing Peter out of curiosity. Everyone wanted to hear the story of his miraculous survival.

Peter eventually went round in a complete circle. He'd been away too long to know the warren like it was still home. Some of the tunnels he'd known were long gone. He was running around a long curved passage when suddenly Mark, Tom, Damien and the others darted out of a side tunnel and they all collided in a heap. Peter leapt straight to his feet and growled through his teeth at them.

"Oh, Peter, just stop for a minute!" Eleanor cried exhaustedly as she emerged from the tunnel behind them and gave him a stern look.

"Where's Mopsy?" he hissed back.

"She's not here," Damien said, his own voice muffled from being stuck flailing on his back again. Mark and Tom helped him back to his feet.

"Where is she, then?"

Eleanor caught her breath. She also caught Damien looking at her, expecting her to explain. She sighed. "Peter, look," she said softly. "Come back up to the surface with us and we'll start at the beginning, shall we?"

"Tell me now!" Peter cried.

"You need to hear the whole story-"

"I don't want the long answer," Peter snapped. "Give me the short one!"

Damien rolled his eyes. "Fine. Short answer? We don't know where she is..."

"Oh, Damien!" Eleanor barked, screwing her face up at his tactfulness.

"What?" Damien shrugged. "He wanted the short answer. And that's it."

Peter sunk his claws even deeper into the mud. He stopped snorting, took a few moments to compose himself, and breathed deeply. "How can you not know where she is?" he said in a sinister tone. "Is she here or not?"

"She was," Eleanor said. "Until about twenty hours ago."

"And then where did she go?" Peter demanded.

"We were hoping back across the road," Damien said.

"But where did she say she was going?"

"Well, that's the thing," said Eleanor slowly.

"What? Didn't she tell you?"

"Not us, no," Damien said.

"Well, didn't you ask?!"

"Didn't get a chance to, mate."

"She told Tyler," Eleanor added.

"And Tyler told us."

"Your son, Tyler?" asked Peter.

"Yes," they both said together.

"He's gone with her," Eleanor muttered.

That filled Peter with apprehension. He knew the boy. Tyler was the same age as Mopsy. He also had a reputation within this warren most comparable to Benjamin Bunny's on the other side of the road. His never ending thirst for adventure and completely lacking sense of danger always landed him in strife.

"Gone where?" Peter said in a low voice.

Damien and Eleanor paused and looked at each other.

"Roadkill Turnpike," Damien said.

"What?" Peter scoffed.

"That's where they've gone."

"Where they're trying to go," Eleanor corrected.

For once, Peter didn't know what to say. He frowned and swallowed, but his throat was dry from running. "I think," he said distantly. "That maybe we should go up on the surface and start from the beginning..."

The rabbits returned to the surface in silence. The sun was setting now and the sky was orange over the rape field. A large number of rabbits had come to the surface to see Peter's return from the dead, but he could only manage a brief and detached acknowledgement and Damien warned them off following.

He led them into a secluded spot where the crops had been flattened into a clearing ideal for secret rabbit meetings. It was close to the warren, but closer to the road. As Damien and Eleanor began their story, they heard a single human vehicle scream past. It was the first car any of the rabbits had seen in over a day.

"Tyler was actually the first to hear her," Eleanor began.

"Yes," Damien went on. "He was out here at the time. He heard her crying out, babbling, not making any sense at all, but loudly, so he went running."

"She'd just come through the bushes," Eleanor continued. "She stopped beneath a tree and started burrowing a hole between the roots. You know how some rabbits react to a trauma. They instinctively dig."

"Yes, so Tyler went straight over-"

"He always did have a soft spot for her."

"Quite, but he would have done it for anybody." Damien sighed. "She still wasn't making any sense. Some other rabbits had appeared by now. Quite a few were up on the surface grazing. Tyler left her with them-"

"And came and found us."

"Yes, he came and found us, so we went back with him. She wasn't digging anymore. She was just sitting there. She looked... she looked dead, Peter. Completely out of it. We couldn't..." He trailed off there.

"It took a while to get through to her," Eleanor continued softly. "We took her down into the burrow. We knew something terrible had happened. After all, where were you and Beatrice and the kids?"

"We asked her that-"

"We couldn't get an answer out of her," Eleanor interrupted again. "We sent all the others away. Sent Tyler up to the road to look for you. He came back quickly. Said there was no sign of you. After that, she opened up."

Damien shook his head. "I can't understand it," he said. "But she believed what she saw. She told us that one of those skinny two-wheeled vehicles had killed her mother and older brother, and that you and Cottontail had vanished beneath the wheels of one of the larger ones. One minute you were there-"

"And the next second, you were gone."

Peter listened to this, feeling light-headed.

"She said you couldn't understand why there was so much traffic on the road at that time of night," Eleanor went on. "But that you were determined to cross. She said her mother wanted to come back her and try again later."

"She blamed me," Peter said under his breath.

"No!" said Damien forcefully.

"No, Peter," Eleanor concurred. "But when Beatrice and Flopsy were killed and then you and Cottontail vanished, her first thought was to come back here. So she did. Oh, Peter, there was no consoling her..."

Damien nuzzled Eleanor as she began to sniffle.

Peter frowned. "So where does Roadkill Turnpike come into this?"

Eleanor looked up and exchanged glances with Damien.

"She was the first to mention that, actually," Damien said.

"Yes, she slept for almost a whole day after... after it happened," Eleanor continued. "Then when she woke up, she said she was over it. You were all dead, there was no bringing you back, so no point dwelling on it."

Mark and Tom had heard that before. Peter fidgeted.

"The next night, she didn't sleep at all," Damien began again. "She was sitting right here, in this very clearing, talking to Tyler constantly. We kept seeing him come out, and taking others back to talk with her."

"We, of course, weren't allowed to," said Eleanor bitterly.

"No, she didn't want to see us," Damien said sadly. "But one of those Tyler took in to see her came out and dutifully told us what she was doing."

"What she was planning..."

"To go to Roadkill Turnpike?" said Peter.

"Oh, no," said Damien. "That wasn't until later."

"No," Eleanor agreed. "It turned out she had had a long dream whilst she was asleep. She was telling it to other rabbits like it was a vision of the future. A future where rabbits are supreme and mankind is... well, gone."

Peter raised his eyebrows. "Go on."

"Well, she was trying to convince people that it wasn't just a fanciful dream but a plausible reality," Eleanor continued. "And that they could make it happen. She had an idea, you see..."

"Ludicrous idea," Damien grumbled.

"Yes," Eleanor said awkwardly. "She wanted to kill humans."

"Poor girl," Damien sighed, shaking his head.

Peter glanced at William and Elliot out of the corner of his eyes.

"Definitely her father's daughter," Mark whispered to Tom.

"Why is that ludicrous?" Peter asked.

Damien and Eleanor looked at each other.

"Well, it just is," Damien said. "Honestly..."

"A lot of rabbits around here," Eleanor went on. "They were very understanding. They knew what she was talking about wasn't possible. But they were sympathetic. They listened. They supported. They consoled."

"She still didn't want to know about us, though..."

Eleanor nodded. "We went to see her in the end," she explained. "She said she had a massive following. The warren was going to rise up and dig a trench through the road that cars would fall in to. Under her leadership, of course."

"So what happened?" asked Peter.

"Well, nothing," Eleanor concluded. "Yes," Damien began again. "When she called upon all her supporters to come down to the road with her and commence digging, nobody moved."

"Nobody except Tyler, of course."

"And it wasn't just because there was still the odd vehicle on the road," said Damien quickly. "Nobody had thought she'd meant it. I mean, it was a crazy idea. They didn't even think she believed it herself, I don't think. They just thought that she was grieving in her own way."

"That's what we all thought."

Damien nodded. "Well, we were wrong," he said apologetically.

"Okay, so where does Roadkill Turnpike come in?" asked Peter.

"Just getting to that," said Damien.

"This was when she first brought it up," Eleanor agreed. "We were all standing in the bushes and I think she was honestly surprised that nobody really supported her. Of course, we tried to explain..."

"Yes," Damien said gruffly. "Personally, I think she'd been living on the other side of the road for too long. Couldn't understand how we couldn't have a war because we don't have armies because we can't have generals because we don't have a leader." He sniffed. "Simple as that." "Quite," Eleanor agreed. "But she said that there were rabbits at Roadkill Turnpike who had been locked in a perpetual war with mankind that had been going on forever and would last until the end of the world..."

"As if we hadn't heard," Damien muttered.

"Yes, but it seems like she believed the myth..."

"She couldn't understand why we didn't want to join in."

"And this is when she left?" Peter asked.

"No," Damien said quickly. "Not straight away, anyway."

Eleanor shook her head slowly. "I don't know what made her leave in the end, Peter. I tried explaining that Roadkill Turnpike doesn't actually exist, I really did, but somebody else that she trusted more than any of us had already put that idea in her head and she wasn't going to let anybody shake it."

Peter narrowed his eyes. "Who?"

"I blame Tyler," Damien growled.

"Tyler told her about Roadkill Turnpike?"

"No. Don't listen to him, Peter," Eleanor warned. "But with all due respect, I don't think it was Tyler who convinced Mopsy to leave the warren. I think it was the other way round. I think it was Mopsy who convinced Tyler..."

"Yes, well, anyway," Damien went on. "The pair of them sneaked out at first light early this morning, didn't they?"

"Mopsy didn't tell anybody, of course," Eleanor went on. "But Tyler told a couple of friends. When we couldn't find either Mopsy or Tyler a few hours later I guessed what had happened. Tyler's friends confirmed it."

"Did anyone see them go?" Peter asked.

"Not that we know of," Eleanor replied.

"But did you get the impression she knew where Roadkill Turnpike was?"

"Actually, yes." Eleanor frowned. "But she didn't tell us."

"Okay, now this is what I don't understand," Peter began slowly. "Beatrice and I never told any of our kids any of the stories we were told about the place, but if Mopsy thinks she even knows where to find it, then somebody else must have..."

"Yes, that figures," Eleanor cautiously concurred.

"Well, it wasn't us," Damien said.

"Who could it have been, though?"

"That's what I'd like to know," Peter said through his teeth.

Off to the side, Mark cleared his throat. "Actually, I have an idea..."

Peter shot him a look. "What?" he snapped. "You?"

"No," Mark said quickly. "But close."

Tom rolled his eyes and sighed.

"What?" Peter turned on him. "Who?"

"It's obvious," said Tom.

"Angus," said Mark.

"What?!" Peter hissed.

"Mopsy's grandfather?" said Eleanor.

"It makes a lot of sense, actually," Mark said.

"He told us lots of stories about the place as kids," Tom pointed out.

"No, that's not what I meant," Mark continued.

"Then what do you mean?" Peter snapped.

"It makes sense because, quite simply, he believes it's a real place, too."

"He does?" Even Tom was surprised.

"Yes," Mark went on. "Don't you remember, Tom? It's not just a story, he used to tell us. He thought we thought he was lying rather than just telling a story. I wouldn't be surprised if your kids heard the same things, Pete."

"Mopsy certainly trusted him," Tom added.

"Maybe a little too much," Mark muttered to himself.

Peter frowned. "Did Angus ever say tell you where Roadkill Turnpike is?"

Mark raised an eyebrow. "I thought you didn't believe in it..."

"That's neither here nor there," Peter said sharply. "If Angus believes it exists, then he must also have a pretty good idea where. And if Mopsy believes him, then isn't there a chance she's gone looking for it in that direction?"

Mark hesitated. "You might have a point."

"Of course I have a point." He paused. "Well?"

"He might have mentioned something," Tom mumbled.

"We didn't pay that much attention," Mark added gloomily.

Peter shook his head and scowled at them. "Then I don't really have much choice, do I?" he said with a resigned sigh. "There's only one rabbit who can help me track Mopsy down." He stood up. "And that's Angus."

NOTES:
Another rather talky chapter, but it came together more easily than previous ones. The last 700 words took some extensive rewriting, though, and another 200 were lopped off the end, never to be seen again. They effectively made Peter look desperate to get over to the other side of the road right away, and Mark and Tom convincing him that's a bad idea because it's now dark and the rabbits will all be awake. It just didn't have a suitable note to end on, unlike this one, which suggests possibilities for the next chapter.

This chapter is also notable for two other reasons. Firstly, for the first mention of Roadkill Turnpike, and secondly, for crossing the 50,000 word count doing it. This chapter and the next form an introduction of what Roadkill Turnpike is before we get there in about 5000 words time.

Even though I knew Mopsy had survived the crash all along, I never toyed with the idea of writing her story concurrently. Not only would that take away the surprise of her survival, but it would have been pretty redundant. Her story is much like Peter's. Peter is also the main character. Prioritising the search for his lost daughter over waging war on mankind is meant to be my attempt at softening up Peter.