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DR. SONG TWIDDLED WITH the dials on the short wave, fine tuning the signal until it was so thin that only someone specifically listening on that frequency would be able to find it. Still, caution dictated that he disguise the message as much as possible, to confuse anyone who might stumble across the transmission.
“Brier Rabbit to Snowshoe Hare. Brier Rabbit to Snowshoe Hare. Are your ears pointed?”
Static filled the room. He repeated the message and on his third call, the shortwave cracked. “Snowshoe Hare. How’s the weather?”
“Storm is brewing. Hot and dry as a desert yet clouds are gathering. Got us a sick buck here. Kit is fine, hopping about, checking on the grazing. Buck ran into a hedgehog, was bitten but on the mend. They pop up everywhere nowadays.”
“Same here,” said Snowshoe.” We found us a buck too, one with very long teeth. He talks a lot too. He brings a storm with him I think. Time to send him back to his den and see if he can sort through the weather signals. Maybe he can turn the storm around, with a little luck. Has connections to the weather gods, I think.”
“Does the hare have a name?”
Static fed along the signal for a moment, then cleared. “He says he is called Hotshot. Never heard of a rabbit called Hotshot. Hotshot Hare it is.”
“Well you tell Hotshot to watch for rogue rabbits when he gets back. Some are working for the processing plant, and unless he wants to end up on someone’s dinner plate, he had better lie low. There is one doe there in the main den that might be of help.”
“He has heard your words. He will be nosing around starting tomorrow. We will let him know how to recognize your den,” said Snowshoe. “Hotshot wants to know if anyone has heard from the rogue doe. The one that went to find the Jack Rabbit lair.”
Dr. Song looked to Peet, who shook his head. “No one here has heard from her. I think our buck here wants to go after her.”
“We think she has been gone long enough now. Time to bring her back home,” said Snowshoe.
“Tell Hotshot that his parcel is buzzing with potential. It is even more dangerous than he realizes,” said Brier.
“We have brought Hotshot up to speed. He knows the risks.”
“Excellent. Tell him to meet up with his old den mates in two weeks’ time. Our buck should have mended from the hedgehog bite by then.”
“Understood. A new thistle was discovered, we are sending you one too, in the next litter. Over and out.”
The line went dead and Dr. Song sat back.
Alexa giggled. “You are Brier Rabbit?”
Dr. Song smiled down at the child’s happy face and nodded. “And Snowshoe is someone you know, I think.”
“Really? How would I know them?”
“I believe he may be your father.”
The smile slid from Alexa’s face. “My father is dead.” All trace of humour was gone.
“Your father is missing,” corrected Dr. Song. “There is a big difference.”
Alexa slid off the chair she had been perched on to watch Dr. Song operate the radio. “It doesn’t matter. I hardly remember them anymore. Avalon is the only family I have.” She walked out of the room.
Dr. Song idly spun the dials on the shortwave, thinking. I could get them back together, Alexa and her parents, it could be arranged. But the Gainsboroughs had left specific instructions to the SOS that under no circumstances were they to expose the Gainsborough children to the disease. Dr. Song no longer believed that was possible to keep them safe, merely by distancing them from their parents. They may very well be safer, closer to their parents.
The disease was spreading at an alarming rate. It made the work they were doing that much more vital. If an antidote could not be found in time, their world was doomed, as was every human within it. The toll of the failing ecological systems was being felt in every corner of the world. Already they were dependent on imports from areas away from the epicenter of Solace and Melona.
A heavy sigh escaped his lips as he pushed up from his chair. He shuffled out of the radio room and back to where Peet sat, bending and straightening his leg, testing how the torn muscles of his thigh were healing. He winced and grimaced but his lips were clamped shut and he made no sound. Dr. Song took Peet’s leg and bent it at the knee then pressed his thigh to his chest then pulled it straight again. With this movement, a faint groan escaped Peet’s lips.
“Still tender with deep flexion, eh? Come, stand up.” He offered Peet his arm to steady him as he stood up. “Let’s take a short walk around the outside of the house.” He placed Peet’s shoes in front of his feet, and Peet shoved them in, leaving the laces loose.
“I could use some fresh air.” Together they stumbled out the door.
***
ALEXA WATCHED THE PAIR stumble out the front door and as soon as it closed them, Alexa scurried into the radio room. She had been watching Dr. Song operate the wireless unit and was confident she knew how to do it. She flipped the power switch and then spun the tuning dial until she found the exact frequency she wanted, one she had memorized by heart. The unit glowed green, indicating the unit was ready to transmit. Alexa took a deep breath, then picked up the hand held mic and pushed the button on its stem.
“Alex- I mean Alice in Wonderland, to Nivens, come in please.”
The short wave crackled and hummed.
“Alice In Wonderland to Nivens, come in White Rabbit.”
Silence.
“Alice in Wonder-” the radio receiver flashed and the voice of a young man reached her ears.
“White Rabbit is down a rabbit hole. This is March Hare.”
Alexa peeked out the window. Dr. Song and Peet were just rounding the corner of the garage. “March Hare. I need to visit the last rabbit hole that Nivens and I went to, together. There are some special carrots there that are needed for a friend. Could you have Nivens meet me at the entrance to the hole in two days’ time? This is the hole underneath the lavender patch.”
“Understood, Alice. We will send some other rabbits along to help you forage. By the way, a rabbit close to you has been found in the next den over, she was found in one of our rabbit holes but ran away. We think she may be sick. She ran into some hunters.”
Alexa’s pulse raced with alarm. “Is she ok? She is a reckless rabbit. Always sniffing at traps.”
“We don’t know. We are trying to find out. She is running with the wrong colony. There are many predators running wild in the forest nowadays. But the hunters are the worst. We avoid them as much as possible. They are snatching rabbits right off the runs. We are doing our best to learn their plans.”
“Understood. I will meet up with Nivens at this hour, tomorrow. Over and out.”
Alexa turned off the wireless and put the chair back the way it was. She ran out of the room and to the kitchen, where a window displayed a view of the rear of the house. Peet and Dr. Song had just passed by and were almost to the third corner of the house. Alexa grabbed a bag from under the sink and began shoving food into the cloth sac, then ran back to her room and shoved it into the top of her back pack with all her belongings. She shoved it back under the bed, then went back to the living room, just as the door was opening. She held it wide while Peet limped into the room. His face was ashen and he looked like he was about to throw up. He limped over to the couch and sank down into it, his eyes closing with exhaustion. Dr. Song lifted the injured leg, dragging a groan from Peet. He rolled up the pant leg and examined the area of stitches. They had torn and a fluid seeped from where the skin was supposed to have healed. The area around the bullet hole was red, the tissue inflamed.
“Damn!” The curse was incongruous, coming from the squat doctor. “It’s infected! I’m sorry Pete, but I don’t have any more antibiotics. We need to bathe and clean this once again. You were too long without treatment and infection was already present by the time I got to you. Alexa, fetch my medical bag, please.”
Alexa slammed the door and ran to fetch the medical bag. She knew it was low on all the necessary supplies. She had been watching the doctor treat Peet for a week now. It was why she had to go. She knew of a stash of medical supplies, and if Peet was going to recover, she needed to bring some back to the Doctor. No one else seemed to be supplying him with any. She rushed back into the room and watched as Dr. Song pulled out the last of his antiseptic cream and some clean bandages.
“Warm water, Alexa, and in the cupboard beside the sink, there is a jar that is labeled ‘Beeswax Ointment’. Bring that, also, please.”
Alexa did as she was bidden, returning with the bucket of water and a clean wash cloth, the jar of ointment tucked under one arm.
Dr. Song began to wash the wound once again as she watched. She had the routine down now and handed him the items Dr. Song needed before he asked. As she went about the chore mechanically, her resolve firmed. She would gather the supplies Dr. Song needed and make contact with her friend at the same time. It was time for her to join the fight and do something. I may be twelve, but I am no longer a child, she thought.