Eleven Days Escape Time

Day 7.

September 13. 4 days until the competition.

The previous night, after they'd returned home and Wallace had once again transformed into the Were-rabbit, and once again failed to remember Gromit, was kept secure in the basement in a large cage Gromit had originally built for Hutch.

Gromit watched as the monster paced the cage like a wild animal, turning to look at him every once in a while. Hutch was continuing to rebuild the Mind-o-Matic. It was near complete, just lacking some nuts and bolts. Gromit felt lost without Wallace. Hutch wasn't Wallace. He couldn't replace Wallace. Nothing could convince him to love the cheese-loving rodent as much as he loved Wallace. Though he wore slippers, Wallace's tank-top, somewhat sounded like him, and somewhat smelled like him, he wasn't Wallace. And he couldn't replace the hole Gromit felt in his chest while Wallace was a Were-rabbit. He'd turned to look at the beast pacing in the cage. That wasn't Wallace either. Wallace wasn't a mindless animal pacing a cage like a lion at a zoo. He wasn't the Wallace he knew, willing to eat vegetables and carrot juice and lose his ability to invent. The beast that paced the cage had stolen Wallace from him, and that sparked a small rage inside the normally rage-less beagle.

The morning after, he'd released Wallace from his temporary prison and they had both gone to bed after a long night of insomnia.

Gromit woke up around noon. It had been a long time since he'd taken a nap. He headed downstairs to the basement to check on Hutch's progress... but he wasn't there. Gromit looked around the basement, but couldn't find the bunny. Confused, he headed back upstairs in hopes to find him.

After searching the house, he still didn't turn up. Gromit was worried, his brain concocting the worst as he went to wake Wallace. He shook him awake, causing him to grumble sleepily and pull the blankets over himself. "What, Gromit?" He eventually sat up after enough shaking. "How's Hutch doing?" Gromit shook his head no, and tried to pull Wallace up. "Is he even still down there?" Again, no. Gromit ran downstairs to check the garage- the van was gone. His heart raced as he ran out of the open garage door and stood in the driveway. "What happened to the van, Gromit?" Wallace wrapped a robe around himself as he stood in the doorway to the garage. Gromit turned to Wallace, shrugging. "If he took the van, we'll have to find him, before someone else does," Wallace threw on the hat to hide his ears, and he and Gromit headed down the sidewalk quickly, following the tire marks the van had left from turning too sharp.

As they walked in the direction of the van, the sky grew dark from storm clouds. "I hope it doesn't rain on us, lad," Wallace said, looking up at the sky. Gromit suddenly pointed to.. the van! It was crashed against a telephone pole. "Oh, no, my van!" Wallace exclaimed, running to it. He rubbed the smoking bonnet of the van lovingly. "It'll take me weeks to fix this damage." He frowned. "More importantly, where's Hutch?" Wallace peered into the open window of the van, then looking over his back. "What could he even be out for? I knew we shouldn't have left him unattended." The two looked for clues around the van. Then, Gromit felt his body tense up. A bullet casing. He turned and grabbed Wallace, pointing his attention to the casing. "Oh, no.." Wallace inhaled. "You don't think," he began. "That Victor.. from the church meeting.. a-and from the first time we visited Tottington Hall... I got the feeling he didn't like me, and he wanted to kill the beas-I mean..me, rather than us safely capturing it!" He turned to Gromit. "You don't think he's after me, do you?" A look of worry spread across his face. "And even worse! You don't think he has Hutch, do you?" It was all coming together. The man's growing hate for Wallace at the church and at the Hall... Gromit realized they, especially Wallace and Hutch, could be in danger. If he had Hutch, it would ruin their plans of fixing the Mind-o-Matic and ruin their Anti-Pesto name. If word got out that they were tampering and experimenting with rabbits instead of being humane, as they claimed, they would be dead.

***

Victor knocked on the door of Tottington Hall. "Victor! What a pleasant surprise.." Lady Tottington said as she answered the door. "I've captured the beast, my dear," he sneered, pulling on the chain, connected to a spiked collar, which was strapped around none other than Hutch. The small rabbit looked up nervously at Lady Tottington, somewhat scared. "But- I thought Wallace had it under control and in captivity," she backed away from the door. "It must've escaped again, Campanula," Victor lied easily, his dog, Philip, nodding accordingly by his side, then turning to growl at Hutch, who flinched at the sound. "Your 'saviors' must've failed again," he rolled his eyes with a smirk. "If you want something done right, you let me do it." He put his arms on his hips. "Are you going to take it back to Anti-Pesto? Please, tell me you will," Totty started, looking down sympathetically at the bipedal rabbit. "Of course, my dear. He's in good hands."

But he was not in good hands.

Once returning to his home, Victor threw the rabbit into a cage with a slam, closing the door. "You're the perfect bait... Anti-Pesto will come looking for you soon enough in fear of being ratted out.." Victor said as he folded up the green tank-top he had been wearing, and set it on top of the cage, along with the slippers he'd been wearing. "Make any sound, and you're dead, understand?" Victor pointed his gun at Hutch, who silently nodded, pushing himself into a corner of the small cage.