Carrots rushed down the dirt road.  His brown ears flew out behind him as he approached the huge hole at the end of the road. Carrots smelled the air. This morning it smelled salty, like a sea breeze. 

“That’s funny,” he said out loud.

He hopped in the hole and slid down a chute. When he reached the end, he hopped down a large hallway that had dirt walls and portraits of past Bunny hunters. He turned left into a room with fires that were really made of jewels. Fires were hazardous. He hopped up nervously to the front desk. The bunny behind the desk had black fur and deep crimson eyes. 

“Carrots,” the bunny growled. “You have been slacking off at work. You are two kills short this month. Do you know what this means?”

“What does it mean?” Carrots wondered anxiously. 

“It means that you will have to kill something that will make up for what you failed to carry out. Something tricky, something dangerous. Oh! I know. A black rat snake.” 

Carrots gasped. “Not a black rat snake!” Carrots had never caught a black rat snake. He rarely ever caught snakes. The one snake he had ever caught was a rattlesnake and a small one. And that had been a whole year ago! When he had been three! Or, has humans thought, thirty. Every year of his life has been like a decade of a human’s life. Now he was four, and too old to be catching snakes, much less black rats. He knew too well of how they were seven feet long and squeezed rodents to death. As bunny hunters, Carrots and his working partners understood how getting rid of these animals was improving bunnykind, but he was scared to face one of those horrid beasts.

“Yes indeed,” said the black rabbit, drumming her paws on the mahogany desk. 

“You will in two day’s time. The month is almost up, so you will have to make do without a week. Oh, and your gear is downstairs. You need special gear to battle black rats. And a partner.” 

Carrots gulped. It would be harder to make up for slacking than he had thought at first. 

Carrots hopped slowly down to the basement. The stalagmites glittered on the roof ominously. Carrots had always feared that one day they would all come crashing down right on his head, so he was less than happy to be in the basement. Then he saw the rabbit behind the desk, and he would have rather risked the stalagmites. 

“Hh-hi,” he stuttered. “I-I need to get equipment for b-battling black rats.”  

“Black rat, huh,” said the rabbit. 

Carrots' brains felt like the size of a pea! He had to be seeing things. There was absolutely no way that-

“What did you do?” the rabbit asked sympathetically. “Black rat ain’t even that bad. I battled one of them myself. Just meat and bones. It got no brains! Then again, I got a scar from one. Which is why I died myself pink. To cover up that scar. I’m Sheila, by the way,” the rabbit said in a southeastern accent. 

“I’m Carrots,” Carrots managed to get out. “Was this rabbit crazy? Why on earth did she dye her fur just to hide a scar? Rabbits have doctors,” Carrots practically screamed inside his head. Was he hallucinating? Was every bunny in the world a shade of pink now? Carrots frantically glanced at his fur in a nearby mirror. 

“Phew!” he thought. He still had his brown upside-down mouse shape on his nose and his splotches of brown on his eyes and body. And luckily he still had white background fur, not flamingo pink! Carrots let out a long sigh of relief.  So it was this strange pink rabbit that was crazy, not him. 

“Hello?” Sheila asked. “Hello! I got your gear!” 

“Oh, thanks,” Carrots answered. He picked up the gear and hopped up the stairs as fast as his furry legs could carry him. 

Carrots laid out his gear on his small blue circular bed. He nibbled some celery and sipped some water. He had a shield, an ax, special protective gear, and a backpack full of food, medicine, and tranquilizer. Carrots put it on. He admired his reflection and grinned. Out of the blue, the doorbell shrieked. Carrots shrieked. He tripped over the plate of celery and accidentally performed a flip, thanks to months of Junior Bunnyhunter training when he was a boy. He quickly took off the gear and folded it into a stack on a nearby stool. He grabbed his Bunnyhunter T-shirt and raced up the redwood stairs to the front of his house, which was an elm tree. The rest of his house was underground. When Carrots reached the door, he could not believe his eyes. He tried to shut the door, but it was too late. The rabbit had already walked inside and was putting her pink fur all over Carrots' famous strawberry pie. 

“There has to be some sort of mistake,” Carrots said. “There is no way I am working with you, Sheila. I’m an alone bunny.”

“Sure I am!” Sheila spat out some of the Carrots' pie. “By the way, Carrots, your pie is disgusting.”

“It was my grandmother’s recipe,” Carrots replied with a frown.

“Anywho, the Boss told me that because I had already battled the Black Rat, I could give the whole ‘battle a snake’ thing another whirl. I even brought my gear!” Sheila held out an old, musty brown backpack and a rusty copper knife. 

“I used this to kill the black rat!” she exclaimed. Carrot squinted, trying to see the knife better. He took out his moon glasses, which were the opposite of sunglasses, and placed them on his lopped ears. Sure enough, it was a dull, rusty old knife with a rotten hilt. 

“You're kidding!” Carrots said incredulously. 

“I am most certainly not!” Sheila yelled. She crossed her paws. “These babies have been through all the training! I have killed thousands of bounties, maybe millions, with these very tools. So you better shut your fur-covered mouth or they will show you how well exactly they can cut rabbit flesh!” Sheila growled and stomped her foot. 

“Fine then. Show me.” Carrots could feel the animosity building up between the two of them. He ran downstairs and got his ax (which had a perfectly sharp blade). 

“Ready?” he said, trying to sound low and dangerous. 

“Of course!’’ Sheila smirked. “By the way, that voice sounds dumb coming from a bunny.”

Carrots charged. 

Their weapons clashed. 

Carrots swung his axe up and down, side to side. It made a silvery blur as it shot through the air. Sheila wasn’t even swinging her old knife. She kept dodging his blows. Carrots began to feel frustrated. 

“You have to use your weapon!” he complained.

“Why?” taunted Sheila. 

“Because...um...it’s because of...erm…” Carrots trailed off, searching the ceiling of his dirt home to see if there would be some kind of clue. 

 “I’ll use it anyway, even if Carrots doesn't have a reason,” Sheila whispered. She dashed up and cut Carrots on the cheek, while he was still trying to think of a reason why she should use her weapon. Carrots spun around. He might have not been pink, but right now, his face was strawberry-pie red. He had a gash right under his spotted eye, which, in his opinion, was his best feature. 

“You cheated!” he yelled. The ceiling shuddered. A little dirt fell on Sheila’s head, standing out brilliantly against her pink fur. “You didn’t make rules,” Sheila replied. “In bunny hunting, there are only two rules; don’t get killed and obey the boss. The boss told me that you broke the most important rule. One of my friends broke that rule and do you know what? She broke the first rule. That’s the way it works. Break the second rule and you end up dead. So I am going to come with you because I don't want to disobey the boss and be killed. And you better do the same.”

“Fine,” Carrots said. “Let’s kill a snake.”

Carrots and Sheila set off the long winding road. It was dark, and the sky looked like it was made of sapphires. Carrots hopped ahead, not wanting to talk to Sheila. He was still mad about how she had cheated in the duel they had had earlier. Carrots really hated losing. His backpack bounced around, hitting him lightly on the back a couple of times. Sheila hopped next to him, not wanting to be left behind. They came to a  shady fork. They turned left onto a road full of wildflowers. After a while, they were at a crossroads. They went forward. Then the road ended. Carrots frantically looked at the map. Sure enough, he had gone the correct way. Carrots sighed. Why did he have to ruin his freshly groomed fur? Carrots and Sheila gingerly stepped over vines and prickers. The spruce trees loomed over their heads. Carrots felt like they had been on the same path forever.  Was he on the right part of the map? It wasn’t like there would be trail markers here. He felt in his backpack for his compass. 

There was his favorite family photo, his brush, his survivors' handbook, his chewing stick that was grape flavored, his original supplies, his all-natural kettle corn, but not the compass he had added at the last minute. 

“Have you seen the compass, Sheila?” Carrots questioned. 

“I have it right here,” Sheila replied. 

Suddenly an owl screeched a quarter mile ahead. They heard the faint cry of a young mouse screaming,

 “Mama! Mama!” 

Sheila paled, dropped the compass, and ran towards the sound. 

The compass flew through the air, making a whooshing sound.

It hit the ground and with a tinkle, the glass shattered. 

The blood-red needle bent in half. 

The whole thing split in two. 

It was completely broken. 

“Hey!” Carrots shouted at Sheila. But she didn’t stop.

Carrots began to panic. How was he going to know where to go without the compass? The map didn't show north and south, east and west, so who was to say he wasn't going backward? 

Then he remembered his compass! Oh, his compass, the one his mom had given to him for his first day of Junior Bunnyhunting camp. Oh, he missed her. And since she died, the compass was the only thing left of his mom. 

Carrots gathered up the broken shards of his compass and put them in his backpack. Then he hopped after Sheila. She was holding the brown baby mouse above a small hole. It scampered off her arm and scurried in its hole. Carrots pretended not to notice her. Instead, he set up his camouflage tent and threw in his camo sleeping bag. He took out his old survivor book and peered at the table of contents. Then he noticed the chapter titled “How To Navigate Without a Compass; From Ground to Gemini. Pg. 213” 

Carrots’ heart stopped. He turned to page two-thirteen. He began to read. His eyes blurred as he looked for the vital information that would save him. Finally, he had found out lots of information on how to navigate. 

“Sheila, I know how to find a way out,” Carrots called. “Follow me. We can use constellations.”

“Nice job!” she replied. 

They hopped down the path, following the stars.

“So,” Sheila commented grudgingly. She hid her hands behind her back.

“So what?” Carrots replied.

“Um, nice call back there with the constellations,” Sheila said.

“You already said that,” Carrots grumbled. He was still fuming over the compass.

“Look, I’m sorry I broke your compass,” Sheila apologized. 

Carrots winced. Way to put salt in a wound. 

“Well, maybe if you had just let the mouse go, I could still have it! What was the reason that you had to get that dumb mouse!” Carrots whined.

“Uh, it was in trouble?-And we shouldn’t just let it die!” Sheila lied defensively. 

Carrots eyed her suspiciously. He wasn’t sure she was telling the truth…

Carrots were hungry. He reached inside his knapsack and picked up an apple. He took a big bite out of it. It was delicious! Super sweet, crunchy, and with a silky texture. It was the sweetest thing Carrots had ever tasted. It was just like high fructose corn syrup with a gallon of sugar mixed in. Actually, it was way too sweet. Carrots' stomachs started to hurt. He groaned. He went into his tent and lay on the sleeping bag. Carrots flipped over on his stomach, then back again. His stomach was mixing around.

Meanwhile, Sheila was sniffing around the food. She sorted it out into two piles. Well, one pile. The “Not Poisoned Pile” had no food in it. 

Sheila got some herbs and water. She mixed it up and gave it to Carrots. 

“I made you a remedy,” she said sweetly, tucking her paws behind her back. 

“How do you know I even need a remedy?” Carrots groaned, massaging his stomach subconsciously.  

“Well, you are groaning, and the food’s poisoned,” Sheila said matter-of-factly, giving Carrots a stern look. 

“The food’s poisoned?” Carrots gasped. “Who would do such a horrible, mean, awful-”

“Okay, okay. I don’t have time to hear you say every negative adjective in the dictionary. Just drink the remedy, so I can save time and not waste another twenty minutes trying to convince you to take medicine, where we could be hunting down the Black Rat Snake!” Sheila spoke so fast, it was a little hard to understand her. 

“What?” Carrots asked.

“Just. Drink. It!” she yelled. 

Carrots felt hurt. “There’s no need to yell,” he said coolly. “I bet every creature in the forest can hear you.”

Sheila slapped her paw on her forehead. She silently picked up the remedy and shoved it in Carrots' mouth. 

Carrots took a gulp. It tasted like poblano pepper. He grimaced. It was way too spicy. But it did kill the poison. He felt a lot better. 

“Sheila,” he said. “There is something that humans call a supermarket.”

“What’s that?

“It’s where humans get their food to eat. They never have to hunt or scavenge because a different human does it for them. In return, the first human gives them Money.” Carrots replied.

“BunnyMoney?” Sheila asked.

“No, leader money.”

“What’s leader money?”

“It’s pieces of paper that are green and have pictures of humans on them.”

“So you're saying that in return for hunting humans get pieces of paper?” Sheila asked in disbelief. 

“That about sums it up.” Carrots replied. 

“Humans are weird,” Sheila said.

“Look, if we steal from the humans, we can have healthy food and not starve. I saw one just this way! Follow me.”

They got up and snuck through the trees. Soon, they saw a metal building. It said, “TimeShoppe.” Sheila and Carrots snuck in through a ventilation chute. They put cardboard boxes on their heads and hopped to the fruit aisle. They grabbed a plastic box of strawberries and a spotted banana. Then a worker noticed two boxes lying on the floor. He tried to pick up the boxes and put them away. Then he saw Sheila and Carrots. 

“Run!” Carrots cried. 

I got the food!” Sheila shouted in response. She put the food on her back and bolted for the door. The worker was shocked. 

“Rabbits!” he yelled. 

“Where?” another worker asked. 

“Why is one pink?” asked a customer.

“Are they rabid?” another customer yelled and hopped on a display table. 

Carrots and Sheila zoomed in between the humans’ legs. The big glass doors were open. They were going to make it! The doors snapped shut. Carrots and Sheila hopped up and down, but they were too light to activate the motion sensor. 

The sliding doors at BunnyHunter Headquarters were a lot smaller.

Carrots told Sheila, “We must be too light.”  

 Then a family ran by and screamed “Help! Rabid Rabbits!” and the big doors swung open. Carrots and Sheila ran as fast as they could and hit the road.

Carrots walked down the mossy road. Sheila hopped along.

“So, what was the deal with the mouse?” he asked Sheila.

“Oh, nothing,” she said harshly. Sheila looked at the ground.

“It’s okay,” Carrots found himself saying. “Saving the mouse was nice of you.”

“I don’t like it when child animals are picked on,” Sheila explained. “It’s not fair. Just because they are small doesn’t mean they should always be the first ones being hunted.”

Carrots thought about this. He hopped down the grass. Sheila hopped behind him. The trees were dead now and the grass was a parched yellow. A beat-up sign said, “You’ve arrived at Raptor’s Road.” Carrots nervously hopped to the dusty brick road that crossed their path. The raptors were circling ahead. There were all sorts of Raptors. There were owls, hawks, eagles, vultures, and more. 

“Hide!” he hissed to Sheila. She nodded.

They ran to a Fraser Fir with long branches that swooped down and hid them from view. 

“What’s the attack plan?” Carrots asked.

“No attacking, running. We’re gonna run like crazy and not stop until we are safe.”

“Good idea.” Carrots complimented. 

They crept to the edge of the road, barely hidden from view now. 

“On the count of three,” Sheila explained. 

“One,” Sheila counted. Carrots stretched.  

“Two,” Sheila counted. Carrots got ready to spring in the air. 

“Three!” Sheila yelled. Carrots made a mad dash across the road. His legs pumped as he sprung across the road four feet at a time. Adrenaline rushed through him.  A hawk swooped down and tried to catch him, but Carrots jumped up and swiped at his chest. The hawk fell on the bricks, making a satisfying smack! 

 He did this again a couple more times. Meanwhile, Sheila was doing the same. The air was full of the smacking sound. However, Carrots knew he could not keep that up forever. He needed to get away from this awful road. He began to run at thirty-two miles an hour, his top speed. He turned left, then right. He went in a couple of loopy-loops. He ran in logs and behind trees. Finally, Sheila and Carrots lost the pursuing raptors! 

“We made it,” Sheila panted. 

Carrots had never been as grateful his entire life.

Carrots and Sheila peeked at the map, and then looked up. Sure enough, they were there. The entrance to the Black Rat’s Cave. It was in a tree. A high, thick oak tree with dead limbs dangling off the edge. About fifty feet up there was a hole the size of a basketball. 

“We can’t climb,” whispered Sheila. “We’ll have to see if he will come down,” Sheila shifted from side to side.

“Okay,” Carrots replied. He hoped the snake would not go for him first. Maybe Sheila could do it on her own?

“Black Rat Snake! Hello! Come down where we can see you!” Sheila shouted fiercely. 

A crash came from inside the tree. “Just a second!” it shouted. Then a snake poked part of its body out an open window.

First ahead with gleaming gray eyes. Then along the body with an underside of dirty green and white. But the snake, if Carrots looked closer, was wearing tiny glasses. It had a little baseball cap on that read, “Slithering Beauties”. And if Carrots looked closely enough, he could see through the window it was carrying a tray of chocolate milk and strawberries. 

“Oh, guests!” the snake cheered. “It’s been a while since I had company! Well, except for that annoying black rabbit that keeps bothering me. I hide, of course, but she never gets in my tree! But you don’t look like her! Yes, one of you is brown and white, and the other is pink! Hmm, that's a bit odd. But very cool! My name’s Slinky, by the way. Would you like to come in? The elevator’s on the other side of the tree!” Slinky asked politely. The milk sloshed around in its glasses. Far away, birds twittered. 

“Should we go up?” Carrots asked Sheila. Carrots were thinking yes. The snake seemed nice, and Carrots was starving for some fresh strawberries. As if it was agreeing with him, Carrots' stomach growled like a motorcycle. 

“It could be a trap,” Sheila reasoned, shifting uneasily.

“Well,” Carrot argued, “if it is a trap, then we can get to the snake easier and be more prepared. We can store our weapons in our pockets and if he starts trying to advance, we can jump out and cut him in two.”

Sheila shuddered. “I hope I don’t get stained by his blood. I do not want polka dots on my fur like you.” 

“Hey!” Carrots complained. “These are spots, not circles, making them not polka dots. Anyway, a good plan? Let’s drink chocolate milk-I mean, carry out orders!” 

They gathered up their best weapons and hid them in the side pockets of their coats. Then, Carrots and Sheila stepped into the wooden elevator, and slowly inched their way up the tree. 

“Ready?” Sheila asked.

“Ready!” Carrots responded.

“Hello! Glad you came! I have lots of good food, comic books, and interesting stories to tell! Come sit down,” Slinky said, leading them into the pristine, woodsy apartment. Carrots sat down on a wooden armchair with a “Slithering Beauties” checkered print pillow. Sheila sat on the wooden couch with the same pillow.  

“So, any requests for stories?” Slinky asked, passing around the refreshments. “There was the time I rescued a scarecrow, the time I rescued a man-made out of tin, or the time I rescued a pack of flying monkeys!” 

“Actually, can you tell us about that rabbit you saw before that kept bothering you?” Carrots asked, giving Sheila a meaningful glance. They communicated the same message; Was this the Boss?

“Sure thing!” Slinky said with a grin. “The rabbit keeps dropping by with a dagger, near my house. It keeps killing all the predatory animals nearby. It wants me, too.” Slinky looked sad.

“Keep going,” Sheila urged.

“Well, one day, I poked my head out the window, just a tiny bit, and I asked what she was doing. And she said that her motto was to-what was it? Oh yes, to ‘kill all predators of rabbits.’ Then she took out her lasso, and I quickly stuck my head back in because I didn’t think she knew that I was vegetarian.”

Carrots gasped. That was the Boss’ motto!
“What did the rabbit look like?” he asked. If the Boss knew he was so nice-

“Black with red eyes,” Slinky said. “Why?”

“That’s our boss,” Carrots said.

Slinky’s jaw dropped. 

“You, you work for her? Are you going to kill me? I’ll squeeze you!” Slinky said, his voice shaking. Slinky slithered around in circles, muttering. His tail swooped around and knocked over the refreshments. The strawberries and chocolate milk went flying and hit the walls. Sheila hid under one of the wood chairs, but Carrots leapt up in the air and tried to catch the food in his mouth. 

“We did work for her, but Slinky, you seem so nice, and we don’t want to hurt you. We can just tell the boss that maybe you can be an exception. Right, Carrots?” Sheila said calmly from under the chair. Carrots nodded, his mouth full of strawberries. Suddenly, Sheila gasped. 

“What?” Carrots garbled.

“Why, hello,” a new voice cackled. 

Carrots spun around. It was the boss. 

“How did you get here?” Carrots exclaimed. 

“I hopped, of course.” the boss said. 

“So I hear you have decided to betray us, Carrots and Sheila. Well, I don’t want word to get out that some of the animals we hunt don’t want to hurt us. So now I will have to eliminate you.” the boss said, a cruel grin lingering on her fur-covered mouth. 

“What do you mean?” Carrots asked. “Can’t we work with Slinky? He can help us achieve our goal! Right, Slinky? Carrots looked at the boss in disbelief. 

“Sure thing!” Slinky said, trying to squeeze himself under the bed. “ I don't like other predatory animals anyway.”

“It doesn’t matter,” the boss sneered. “He is still a snake and all things that are natural hunters of bunnies are bad. Besides, I didn't come here to debate this, I came to finish a job and punish the ones who failed.” 

“So be it,” Carrots and Sheila said, glaring at the boss. They drew their weapons, in Carrots' case an axe, but Sheila still had not gotten her old rusty knife replaced. 

“Uh oh,” Carrots thought. “The only damage that thing does is give rabbits tetanus,”

But Carrots had forgotten how he had gotten cut with the knife. And how it had hurt. Carrots swung his axe at the boss, and she jumped on top of the axe! 

“You cheated!” Carrots complained, swinging around his axe.

“Don't you understand, pea-brain?” the boss taunted, tap-dancing on top of the axe while swinging around a spear. “There aren't any rules when it comes to ways to fight! You're too predictable! Other animals know the way you think because you aren’t creative and always do the same thing, instead of something that will throw them off guard!” The boss laughed. “You were my worst bunnyhunter ever!” 

Carrots gasped. The words stung like a wasp, and those word-wasps didn’t sting once each. 

“Too predictable,” the boss’s voice echoed in his head. “No rules,” Carrots’ vision doubled. His legs started to quiver. 

“No,” he thought. “I have to stop her from killing Slinky.”

Carrots pulled up his courage and focused. He stopped shaking, and he saw only one axe with a rabbit perched on top. Carrots heard the boss's word in his head, but they were different. He saw them as a strategy. He dropped his axe on the coffee table and jumped on one side.The boss was so surprised that she didn’t move. She went flying across the room, for Carrots' idea had used a trick he had learned from the see-saw. If someone sat hard on one side, the other would go flying. The boss landed on a pile of sticks and was knocked out. Sheila went over to her and put her in paw cuffs. 

“Well, that was exciting,” said Slinky. “Would you like a ride home? I’m rather fast, and I hate to think of you dragging that mean old rabbit all the way back to your house. If that’s what you will do, anyway. Maybe that way you can convince her to be nice with the promise of release up for grabs. Besides, it would be my pleasure, since you saved me from that ‘Boss’ of yours.” Slinky went around his house, tidying up and putting on a long, dark green zippered coat that was a bit like footies, that is if the footies only had on foot and had a ski mask attached to his neckline. 

“That would be great,” Carrots exclaimed. He had been thinking of the suggestion Slinky proposed. (The one withholding the boss prisoner), and did not want to drag the boss all the way home. 

“Fine with me,” Sheila shrugged. She had put ropes around the boss now, too. 

Carrots, Sheila, and Slinky picked up the boss and went down the elevator.  Carrots and Sheila put the boss on Slinky’s back, and they climbed on Slinky’s back too. 

“Go to number eight, Blackberry Avenue,” Carrots instructed.

And Slinky was off! He slithered really quickly and the landscaping beside Carrots’ eyes was nothing but a blur. Finally, they were at Carrot’s house. Carrots and Sheila said goodbye to Slinky, and he sped off. They heaved the boss into Carrots’ basement. Then they waited. They played cards and ate bananas. After a while, they could hear the boss yelling. “Get me out of here now!” Carrots and Sheila ran down the glass spiral staircase and started convincing her to be nicer to some animals and that not all of them were that bad. In the end, she agreed, so desperate to escape the dank smell of Carrots’ basement. Carrots were tired and Sheila needed to dust her house, so she headed home, and Carrots’ lied down on his bed, ready to sleep and dream about his amazing adventure.