A Prey Among Predators

In his office, Clayton is typing on his computer with his glasses on. Next to him, also behind the table, Brett is in his own chair, munching on beef jerky. The creaking of the door opening sounds.

Coming through the door is Lias and Elias, who have Nolan in the middle, holding his hands. Nolan instantly halts at the sight of two predators. His ears flatten with wide eyes ahead.

Brett’s eyes fly open; he stuffs the bag of beef jerky behind the desk, out of sight. Clayton spins to the three and pulls off his glasses.

“I’m glad you came...Patrick,” Clayton tells him.

Nolan stays frozen.

Lias, noticing his petrified stance, dips his head to look at him. “No worries, honey, they won’t hurt you.”

“They’re not hurting us.” Elias looks around, then lands his eyes back on him. “See?”

Nolan shifts his eyes and peers around. Clayton keeps a flat, irritated look at him; his ears are sticking out from the sides of his head, flatten. Brett aims his eyes down with a guilty expression.

Elias lets go of Nolan to approach the chairs in front of the desk. He pulls out a chair and pats on its backrest.

Lias guides Nolan with a soft pull of his hand to the seat. Nolan climbs into it and settles down, letting go of his hand.

“You’re good alone or do you still need the deer?” Clayton asks with a tone matching his exhausted expression.

Nolan peers over his shoulder to look at the two deer friends. “I...I think I’ll be fine…,” he squeaks out softly.

Clayton nods at them.

Lias lays a gentle hand Nolan’s shoulder. “We’ll be in the scorekeepers’ booth if you need us.”

The two deer then exit and close the door behind them. Clayton, from looking at them, turns to Nolan.

“Okay, listen—” The coach slams the sides of his extended hands on the table, pointing his fingertips at him. “—we’re in a tight situation here and you’re the only one that can help us.”

Nolan blinks at him with a blank stare.

“You follow?”

Nolan flicks his eyes to Brett.

Brett throws his eyes to Clayton, grabbing his attention. “I think he follows.”

Clayton huffs and turns back to Nolan again. “Howdy told me the situation with Hart. Hart didn’t do it; he was framed. But in order to make sure he was framed, I need help figuring out who would frame him. And since you hung out with him the most, you should know who framed him.” He leans back, his interlaced fingers on his desk. “You have an idea?”

Nolan gapes at him as his mind grapples with the question. As his mind churns for an answer, pressure sinks against his shoulders. The stares of the predators pierce through him, igniting apprehension within him.

“Um…”

His ears press against his back; he begins to thump his foot on the carpet. Thump, thump, thump, thump...

Brett turns to his friend. “We can-we can just BAIL Hartsy out; Hartsy should know the answer—”

Clayton whirls to Brett with narrowed eyes. “Do you think we have that money just lying around to get him out?!”

THUMP, THUMP, THUMP, THUMP…!

Brett throws a glare at the direction of the thumping’s source. “Who’s making that thumping sound?”

“He’s in distress—” Clayton leans closer to try to gain eye contact with Nolan. “Patrick, listen, I’m sorry for what we are asking of you, but we need to get our goalie back—”

The door flies open, causing the two friends to peer up. At the harsh sound of the door opening, Nolan springs into the corner of the desk and wall and balls up within the shadows.

Captain Skinner halts in the doorway and holds up a paper with writing, an official stamp and a signature. “Police department, remain calm. We obtained a search warrant to search the premises.”

Clayton flies to his feet, gawking. “For WHAT? What did I DO?!”

The police captain steps into the room, letting Officer Dubois and Officer Dubé march into the room and pass by him.

“Nothing.” Captain Skinner tucks the search warrant into his holster. “Hart escaped and we’re searching through possible places he might have gone.”

“He ESCAPED?!” Clayton shrieks.

Brett gapes at him. “No way!”

“Yup. We found his cell empty late this morning.”

Officer Dubois, who is kneeling by the front corner of the desk, points to shadows. “I found an eastern cottontail usagimimi under here.”

The police captain looks down at him. “Bring him out—”

Clayton plants his hands on his hips. “Aw, that’s just Patrick; let him be.”

“He’s the usagimimi that was with me at the scene of the crime,” Brett explains.

“More the reason to bring him out.” Captain Skinner juts his stubble-covered chin at the officer.

Officer Dubois stares into the shadows before turning to his captain. “He’s not budging. Should I use force?”

“For Darwin’s sake, let the rabbit be; he’s traumatized!” Clayton exclaims, throwing his hands in the air. “He doesn’t know where Hart is and we don’t know either!”

Officer Dubé makes his way back to his captain from the back of the room. “No signs or scents of Hart here.”

“Okay.” He turns to Officer Dubois. “Come on, Dubois.”

Officer Dubois rises to his feet and rejoins his team at the front of the room.

“Thank you for cooperating with us,” Captain Skinner tells the two. “If you see Hart, report his location to us immediately.”

He then whirls around and marches out of the room; the two officers follow him out, shutting the door behind them.

The room falls into a much-needed silence. The two stare out with blank looks.

Clayton then collapses onto his swivel chair and breathes out, “My dog…”

Brett peers down at him with concern. “Is...Patty okay?”

Clayton runs his hands through his hair and ears. “Let the rabbit be. What we need is to find Hart.”

“To turn him in or have him play? He’s a fugitive now, y’know.”

Clayton drops his hands and stares ahead with irritated exhaustion. “I don’t know…!”

Brett shuffles away from him, across the room, to a plastic container by the corner. Scribbled on its side are the words “LOST & FOUND.” Brett swoops over and pulls out Nolan’s jacket. He turns around and sniffs it while returning to the coach.

Brett lowers the jacket from his nose and holds it out to him. “This is Pat’s jacket. It’s what I used to track Carter down at the aquarium.” He stuffs it against his nose and inhales with closed eyes. “Ah, that’s him.”

Clayton snatches it and closes his eyes as he breathes deeply into it. Relaxation flows into his face. “Perfect.” He opens his eyes and stands up. “Let’s get going before he goes too far.”

He rounds his desk and breezes by Brett. Brett follows him before stopping by the doorway and peering by his shoulder.

In the shadows between the desk and the wall is Nolan, who is still in a ball.

“We’ll be back…!” Brett shoots him a grin.

He then slips out of the room, takes the door knob, and pulls the door toward him to close it. However, it halts as it hits an obstacle.

Brett peers up.

Nolan now holds the door, gazing at him with mustered-up resolved. His ears have slightly risen.

“You wanna come?” Brett asks him.

“I should.”

Brett smiles warmly. “Awesome! Come along…!”

Brett pushes the door open to wrap his arm around his shoulder and leads him out. Nolan closes the door behind him.

Notes