Meanwhile, Richie and all the other humans were saying their farewells. Hook and Janice both shook Sam and Taibul's hands, before embracing Emma and Angela, whispering words of encouragement and luck. After that, it was Richie's turn. She wished them all the best, hugging each one tightly, fearing it might be for the very last time, until it was Janice's turn. Both women stood facing each other awkwardly. There was plenty of friction between the two of them, there nearly always had been. It was unnecessary. They both loved Peter, one as a best friend, the other as a lover and a confidant. Neither had really seen this. Neither had budged an inch. But here they were, after everything they'd been through over the last day, violence, desperation and that love for the hockey playing dragon thrusting them together, an invisible bond linking them in their desire and determination to get him back at any cost.
"Are you going to be okay?" asked the diminutive bar worker.
A beaming smile broke out across Richie's face.
"It's nice that you're worried for me. I'd be far more concerned about where you're going if I were you."
"Oh I am. But I need to see him. Need to have him back. You see I love him with all my heart. It's as simple as that."
"I know," whispered Richie, stepping forward to hug her friend. "I love him too. Don't worry, we'll get him back. I have something to do, but I'll be there... I promise!"
Looking deep into Richie's eyes, Janice could see that she meant every word she said. Giving the lacrosse player a nod, she stepped back to join the others.
Richie strolled up to Hook, marvelling at how well he was coping with the giant, heavy water pack attached to his back.
"You're stronger than you look," she said, smiling.
"So are you. But now we know why... pesky dragon! I always knew there was something special about you... wouldn't have guessed in a million years that it would have been this though. Who would have thought it, eh?"
They both burst into laughter. When the moment was over, Richie's face took on a serious edge.
"Look after them," she uttered. "Never give up hope, no matter how desperate things appear."
Hook embraced her uncomfortably, given the huge weight on his back, and replied,
"I will, I promise."
With that, the humans turned and headed off to their respective groups, who by now had all gathered to leave. Richie turned to see Tank waiting off to one side and strolled purposefully over to him.
"So this is it then," he announced.
"I guess it is," she replied.
"What the hell are we doing Rich?" he asked, shaking his head. "The whole world's gone to hell, relying on us to save it."
"Yeah," she said, smiling. "Who'd have thought it?"
Tank stepped forward and wrapped his tree trunk arms around her. She embraced him back, for all she was worth.
"We'll get both Peter and Tim back," he whispered.
She nodded, her head rubbing up and down on his well defined chest. Pulling back a little, she gazed up into his face, lost in so many thoughts.
"I'm so scared, Tank," she finally admitted.
"I know. We all are. But what can you do but listen to your own advice. For as long as we've known each other, you've always been the strong one, fearless, imaginative. Use each and every one of those well honed qualities today, and we'll get through this, meeting up again on the other side. A dragon couldn't wish for a better friend," he said, once again holding her tight.
She started to cry. All the time, both groups looked on, not knowing what to make of things.
Thirty seconds later, it was over. They parted, knowing looks in their eyes, Richie adjusting Aviva's laminium dagger that was secured in the makeshift holster in the small of her back. Tank marched over to his group. All together, each and every one of those departing quietly exited the nursery ring, past the tors guarding the only available way out. Once outside in the darkened streets and alleys, they split up into two discernible groups. As this happened, Richie bounded off down the main thoroughfare, slipping into the shadows, like a hand into a glove, a foot into a shoe. In the blink of an eye, she was gone. Once the two groups had split, they crept off in different directions, none of the individuals looking back at the others, thoughts firmly focused on the mission at hand, and travelling unnoticed through the eerie streets of war torn suburban London.
Earth's surface. Salisbridge, England.
Arriving home from work a little later than normal, he turned his key in the lock, strolled inside and laid his briefcase on the kitchen table. Glancing around the place, he found it more than a little odd that things remained totally unchanged from when he'd left the house much earlier on in the day. Not usually one to pry, curiosity tinged with worry made him go and knock on his roommate's bedroom door. After banging quite hard three times in a row and calling out his name, the normally reserved insurance worker named Gavin did something so unthinkable, it sent a shiver down his spine and made his head swim. Turning the handle, he opened the door and poked his head inside. In the midst of a tidy bedroom with everything 'just so,' rugby memorabilia adorned almost every free space. Magazines sat on the bedside table, photographs sat piled on the window sill, shining awards adorned the dark brown wooden shelves. Gavin had seen the inside of Hook's room before and so none of it came as a surprise. What was odd though, was that there was no rugby kit either dirty or clean, lying about, that and the fact all of the rugby player's work suits were still hanging up untouched and the bed clearly hadn't been slept in. Something seemed totally and utterly wrong. Vowing to give his friend until the morning to turn up before he thought about a further course of action, the insurance worker strolled back into the kitchen, his thoughts having turned to what he'd be having for dinner.
Five miles away, another bewildered being knocked frantically on a front door, puzzled at the lack of a car outside.
'Normally he'd be long back from work,' she thought. Drawing her phone once again out of her handbag, she hit send on the number she selected. In big bold letters the name SAM appeared at the top of the screen. Listening intently, she waited patiently, hoping to hear his voice. It wasn't to be. Just like the other dozen or so times she'd tried in the last twenty-four hours, the phone went straight to voicemail. Ignoring the chance to leave yet another message, she hit the cancel button and headed back across the road towards her car. Worried that something untoward had happened to her boyfriend, Susan climbed into the driver's side and thought about contacting the police. After a moment or two of thought on the matter, she decided against that course of action. It wouldn't be totally unusual for him to be caught up at work would it? And what would the police do? Very little probably, since as far as she could tell, he hadn't been missing long, if he was even missing at all. And so still more than a little concerned, she punched the button to start the engine, slipped it in gear, and sped off up the road towards her house, thoughts firmly focused on what to do next.
With the evening shift over half an hour in, the restaurant only had a couple of diners in it, both of whom were just tucking into a stack of poppadoms and the side dishes that accompanied them. One of the waiters behind the bar finished writing down the takeaway order. No sooner had he put the phone down, than it rang again. Picking it back up as he passed the previous order off to one of his colleagues, he politely asked how he could help, before grabbing his pad and a pen. Off to one side, just out of sight of the diners, hidden away in front of the door to the kitchen, two waiters, one much older than the other started to chat.