Angus watched Peter's party appear from the warren's roadside rabbit hole and start solemnly along the curb in the other direction. He did not follow them. He could see the body of his grandson as clearly as he wanted to from where he waited, even with his myopia as disabling as it had ever been.

Last night he had gone to his nest and lay there listening to the sounds of the darkness. He could sleep with the clicks and scrapes of his fellow rabbits all around because they were comforting sounds that reminded him that he was never alone. He could even sleep with the squelching of water seeping through the porous soil, because that brought with it such a lovely aroma of damp earth. Most nights, the colony began to stir when the human traffic above began to diminish. Last night, however, Angus could still hear it when he lay down to sleep. Perhaps the other rabbits could sleep through that during the day but Angus had got used to the quiet.

Peter's party reached the body. It was lying in the gutter on this side of the road. In a way, that was fortunate. If it had ended up on the other side of the road they might have had to leave it there until the cars went away again. Everybody would have seen Cottontail's now shapeless form discarded by the roadside. Angus felt the blood rush to his face and was ashamed for thinking about it.

He had finally got to sleep last night when three or four rabbits nuzzled him awake again and all started chattering over each other. Angus snapped at them all angrily and picked on one to explain. He'd told him what had happened: that Peter had returned to the warren alone, and that his family had never made it back across the road alive. Angus had gone to find Peter. Peter didn't want to be found. So Angus had come up here alone to think, or brood, and watch the sunrise like it mattered or something. He didn't know what was going on in the human world. Something was making them behave very strangely. But it was probably beyond all hope that they would stop and realise the effect it was having down here.

Peter didn't touch the body of his son. He led the party to it and he would lead them back, but the other rabbits didn't dare let him take the burden on himself. Cottontail didn't even look like a rabbit anymore. He had the face of one, but it was tight and shrunken against the bones of his jaw. This wasn't Cottontail, as far as Peter was concerned. Cottontail was the voice and the movement, but this body didn't speak and it didn't move. This thing the other rabbits were nuzzling over the curb and out of the gutter now had ceased to have anything to do with Cottontail late last night. But there was ceremony, and ritual, and procedure, and it had to be adhered to.

The rabbit that would make sure of that was Alexander. Alexander joined Angus by the roadside shortly after Peter's party had begun the return journey. As patriarch of the rabbit colony, it was beyond Alexander's responsibilities to get involved. It was his job to turn Peter into a focus for the warren's grief. Angus nodded in acknowledgement as he arrived.

For a short while neither of them spoke, just watching Peter's approach instead. Alexander opened his mouth to speak several times, but the words got lost before they reached his tongue. Only when Peter's party had passed them and disappeared into the burrow with Cottontail's body did Alexander find the courage to change the subject beyond the obvious and unspoken.

"There was another mushroom in the sky earlier," he reported.

"Another one?" said Angus wearily.

"Mildred and Horace saw it."

"Where was this one?"

"A little further over that way this time," he said, rocking back onto his hind legs and gesturing with a forepaw. "These human creatures are acting very strangely about them. It's almost as if they're running away from them."

"Well, if they don't want them, we could always do with some of their giant mushrooms round here," Angus murmured.

"Quite." Alexander laughed falsely. "Quite."

For a while they stood in painful silence. Angus watched the blank, drawn faces of the human passengers in all their cars. They were completely oblivious to their rabbits on the curb, and perhaps that was the problem. Meanwhile, Alexander examined the ground at his feet, ill at ease with what he was meant to say.

"I am sorry for what's happened, Angus," he mumbled.

Angus snorted. "Yes, I bet you are," he said bitterly.

"We should have listened."

"No, you should have listened."

"Yes, I should have, too."

Angus nodded. "So what now?"

"Well, I'm ready to listen to you now."

"A bit late for that, Alex."

"We can stop this happening again."

"Tell that to Peter."

"He's already got enough on his mind."

"Yes, I know," Angus spat. "I was being facetious."

"Oh," said Alexander.

Angus ruffled his coat and stretched his legs out in front of him. All the feeling had drained from his body and he'd developed a heightened sense of awareness. It was a sensation he hadn't felt in years, since his old fighting days. He knew he didn't have the strength to kill Alexander if the leader defended himself, but if Alexander felt as guilty as he looked, Angus wasn't sure he would do that.

"Anyway," said Angus.

"Yes, anyway," chirped Alexander.

"I'll see you later."

"Yes. Of course."

Alexander hopped back to let him pass. Alexander may have been the unchallenged leader of the warren, but he still saw fit to pass deference to the wisest and oldest of its inhabitants. Angus passed him and returned to the rabbit hole without further word. He didn't acknowledge the gesture.

Angus saw that gesture repeated every time he met somebody in the warren's tunnels. To a veteran like Angus, walking through the burrow was like walking around his own history. The largest and widest of the tunnels had been there since before he was born and the smallest and narrowest might only have been built since the last birthing season. He passed along the largest of the tunnels, then followed an increasingly narrow path that led toward Peter and Beatrice's nest. It was in those tight muddy corridors where there was no swift escape that all the rabbits he met hopped out of his way and bowed their heads. He hoped Peter was getting just as much deferential respect as the rabbits were giving him.

When he reached Peter's nest, he found it empty. This didn't surprise him. If Peter still didn't want to be found, then this would be the last place he would go for some privacy. Another rabbit was also looking for him there.

"Can I help?" Angus asked the young fellow.

"Oh, I don't think so, sir," the rabbit squeaked.

"Well, why did you want to see him?"

"It was about the trip he's taking."

"Trip? Why? Where's Peter going?"

"He, er, didn't say."

"So why does he need you?"

"Er, he needs directions. Yes, directions."

"Directions, eh?" Angus frowned. "You don't sound very sure of that. Hey, wait a minute, just a second ago you said you didn't know where he's going, anyway. How can you help him get there if you don't even know where there is? Hmm?"

The rabbit's nose twitched nervously. "He said not to tell anyone."

"Tell anyone what?"

"Where he's going."

"And where is he going?"

"I can't tell you, sir."

"Oh, can't you now? Could you tell Alexander?"

"No, don't get him! Please!"

"Why not? Where's Peter going?"

The rabbit gulped. "Outside the colony," he whispered.

Angus shot him a glare. All of a sudden he knew exactly who this young rabbit was, though only be reputation. "You're Mavis and Gregory's son, aren't you? What's your name? Benjamin? Something like that?"

"Benjamin, yes, sir."

"Yes, that figures." Angus grunted. Benjamin Bunny had three times been caught outside the forty-metre limit. Each time the other rabbits had looked kindly on him for having such a cute face and innocent demeanour and let him return. "You run along. If Peter wants to talk to you, I'm sure he'll find you."

"Yes, sir," said Benjamin. Then he almost bowed.

"Go on, hop it!"

Benjamin almost ran up the wall to turn round, then he bounded along the tunnel and Angus was alone outside Peter's nest. He frowned to himself. This was puzzling. Peter knew better than to leave the colony, even more so to conspire to that end. It was one thing going home across the road. That was still within the forty-metre limit. But to go beyond the perimeter was something only exiles did. Angus had many questions. Why did Peter want to leave the colony? Why was it a secret? When had he first approached Benjamin Bunny? If it was before last night, had Peter intended to take Beatrice and the kids with him when he went? But if it was only this morning, why hadn't he been around to meet Benjamin?

Angus growled at himself for letting the little rabbit escape so readily. He could have got answers to at least some of those questions from him. He thought about going to look for the blighter, but Benjamin was a friend of Cottontail's and would probably be headed the same way as Angus anyway. Still, another transgression and he would be exiled, just like Mark, Tom and Travis. Benjamin knew this, and Angus knew that he knew it.

As Angus made his way back toward the surface, he felt angry with Peter. With Beatrice now dead, and his three wayward sons as good as, Angus felt like the last member of his family was deliberately conspiring behind his back to abandon him too. Peter, not even the spawn of this colony, was the closest he had to a child.

The warren had four main exits. The slopes up to these holes were located at the four points of a square, the shape and size of the original colony before it was extended. Now there were so many tunnels and nests actually beyond the four points that several unofficial exits had appeared. These were usually small holes, no larger than a single rabbit, and always caused trouble when it rained and water ran down into the warren. There was only one of these holes that had been allowed to remain open, and it was to this that Angus headed now.

The tunnel sloped sharply up toward daylight ahead. Though murky and grey outside, it took Angus a while to grow accustomed to the light again. The exit was located a short hop from a large oak tree. There were already countless rabbits around the base. Tunnelling through the roots of any tree was impossible, so the base of the oak was an ideal resting-place for the warren's dead.

As Angus emerged, all eyes turned toward him. He looked over the faces of those gathered for Cottontail's burial and part of him was sad he didn't recognise them all anymore. Alexander shuffled forward uncomfortably from the front of the group before Angus reached them. He was frowning.

"Angus, have you seen Peter?" he asked awkwardly.

"What?" said Angus, suddenly alarmed. "No."

"Well, nobody's seen him, and he's not here."

"I've just come from his nest. He's not there, either."

"Nobody's seen him since he got back, then. Hmm."

Angus looked over the crowd. He didn't expect to find Peter, but he did expect to find Benjamin Bunny instead. But Benjamin Bunny was nowhere to be seen either. All sorts of thoughts raced through Angus' head.

If Peter was asking Benjamin for directions in the outside world, then it was because he wanted to go secretly...

And if Peter wanted to go into the outside world without anyone knowing, then perhaps it was because he wanted to return...

And if neither of them were here now, then in all likelihood it was because Benjamin Bunny was helping Peter make his escape...

But of all the times to choose to leave, the funeral of his own son, when all hearts and minds would be with him and he would be missed if he was not there. It was the perfect distraction - half the warren was here - but he'd never get away with it. His only hope was if Angus got to him before he crossed the boundary.

"I'll go and look for him," Angus said uneasily.

"Well, yes, we can all do that," said Alexander.

Angus could hardly tell him how bad an idea that was. Peter might still get away with this, but he definitely wouldn't if Angus blurted it out. Alexander began to divide the warren up and give all the gathered rabbits a place to look. Angus looked across the field toward the A12. By his reckoning, had Peter left the warren as soon as he'd got back from fetching Cottontail's body, he would already be close to the perimeter by now. Angus didn't have a moment to lose.

Not waiting for Alexander's instructions, he charged back down the rabbit hole and bounded through the tunnels. The obsequiousness of his fellow rabbits hopping out of his way helped him get from the nearest of the four points to the furthest in next to no time. He burst out beneath the hedgerow and looked all around, his legs seizing up and lungs on fire. He wheezed, gasping hoarsely for air, then he started to run again, leaping paw over foot, determined not to stop until he reached Peter or the boundary, whichever was closest.

Running through the long grass, he suddenly collided with Benjamin Bunny. The little rabbit hopped back in shock. He'd been creeping back on his belly so that nobody would see him. Angus glared at him. Benjamin looked in the direction he'd led Peter, then balked with a squeak from Angus' low growl.

Angus saw Peter from a distance. He still had black oil in his coat. He wasn't in any particular hurry, but he was about to hop further than he should. His limbs couldn't take it, but Angus forced his body to charge this final stretch.

"Peter! No! Wait!"

Peter stopped when he heard him call. He didn't look like someone anxious to escape. Angus had never been to the perimeter before, but he had a sort of awareness that with a single hop Peter would be exiling himself.

"Peter, stop. Where are you going?" Angus wheezed.

"I'm going where you should be going, Angus," Peter said.

"What? Where should I be going?"

"To see Mark, Tom and Travis."

"Them? Peter, why ever for?"

"Because their sister is dead and they don't know."

"They're exiles. You will be too. Just come back."

"If you cared as much for your sons as I did for mine then you wouldn't give a fuck about Alexander's stupid rules, Angus," Peter spat. "Some things are more important. You should come with me."

"Peter, I can't. Neither can you. Think about this."

"I don't need to think anymore, Angus. I'm going. And now you know and now you have to tell Alexander. In which case, I guess this is goodbye, then. He'll never let me back in, will he?"

Angus wanted to tell him that wasn't true, but it was. He wanted to say something that would stop Peter hopping over the boundary. Then suddenly he just did it anyway. He didn't go any further, not just yet. He just sat on the other side and stared back across this invisible divide between them.

"I won't tell them," Angus whispered. "You could still sneak back in."

"No, I can't," Peter told him. He smiled beatifically.

"Yes, you can." Angus was desperate. "They might never know."

"Angus," Peter said slowly. "Alexander's right behind you."

NOTES:
This was the hardest chapter to write, primarily because it's not about the next great plot development, it's more about joining the dots in the direction of it. I couldn't really leave poor Cottontail out in the middle of the road and have Peter go off to see Mark, Tom and Travis without a word. These chapters, then, sink or swim on the strength of its narrative voice. I chose Peter's father in law Angus, because his representation of opposition to Peter makes for interesting narration. It also generates a little mystery as to what Peter is up to, rather than just reporting plainly how Peter goes about it.

I ended up rewriting the second half of this chapter, from the point where Angus meets Benjamin Bunny (who I think is another character from Beatrix Potter, though can't be sure). In the first version, Peter simply turns up late at Cottontail's burial and everyone's suspicions are raised. I think the chase to find him and Angus' internal conflict over whether to shop him in makes for a more interesting read, though. In this chapter I also wanted to establish more firmly that the mushroom cloud seen in the first chapter wasn't a one-off, and that the events in the story take place against a backdrop of nuclear war.

The names of Mavis, Gregory and Mildred I just plucked from thin air. Angus, however, was the name of my first pet mouse, an albino I got in the summer of 1993. When I was in the shop the bloke serving said he was a girl, but I can't remember his original name. His partner in crime was Bartholomew (originally named Agatha because the guy in the shop thought he was female too - hope this problem didn't apply to humans too), who outlived both him and his replacement, Skippy. Similarly, Horace was the name of a white mouse my parents had before I was born (partnered with Boris). Alexander was another name plucked off a book spine.