A short extract from Jack Rabbit – A Rabbit’s Tail, the story of a young police rabbit sent on a suicide mission to retrieve an old rabbit from the Surface.
“Howl! Arrest those rats would you?”
Police Constable Jack Rabbit cuffed the wrists and hind legs of the young hare before him. The young idiot had fallen for the one trick every senior officer in Greater Warren knew. The best way to stop a young hare or rabbit in their tracks was simply to yell. Nature dictated that the youngster would play dead, making them easy to apprehend.
Presently, PC Howl Stubbs squatted beside the two rats he had just cuffed and began polishing his spectacles. The rats had coerced the young hare into helping them steal two thousand Seeds worth of Carrots – street value.
Carrots were not to be taken lightly in Greater Warren. A quick Carrot every now and then was all well and good, but start eating them every day and very soon they become dangerously addictive. Jack had watched his own brother succumb to the addictive nature of Carrots. He had lost everything just to pay for his addiction. Jack had managed to get him into rehab and word was that young Nix Rabbit was well on the road to recovery.
“This is Foxtrot Fifty,” Jack said into his radio. “The thieves have been arrested, over.”
“Roger that, Foxtrot Fifty. We’ll send a retrieval squad down shortly. In the meantime, you’re needed at HQ. Over.”
Needed at HQ? When had Headquarters ever needed Jack Rabbit? Still, there was a first time for everything. He knelt down and checked the cuffs on the hare’s ankles and wrists. They were secure enough. There was no way the little hooligan was going anywhere like that.
“Howl we’re needed back at HQ, come on!”
Jack squatted down and the little mole hopped onto his back, clinging tightly to his shoulders. Howl hated this form of travel, but as Jack reminded him time and time again, Howl’s little legs were no match for that of a rabbit. With Howl securely on his back, Jack began to hop, gaining momentum with each take-off until he was leaping through the air with effortless leaps and bounds. Howl’s thick claws dug into Jack’s shoulders so he slowed down, taking longer, but lower hops. It wouldn’t do to have his shoulders ripped off by a terrified mole. Now that would be embarrassing.
© Jessica Wiles, 2013