Two days passed since Kiam placed the triplets in his care. Thankfully, after the escape attempt, things were uneventful. Uncomfortable, but uneventful.

Time passed slowly, despite the children always having something to do. A nervous, walking-on-eggshells feeling persisted whenever they were around Kiam and he rarely let them out of his sight. He let them outside to play and help with his garden, but was always nearby to watch them. When inside, he told them stories or prepared food for them. There was always something to do, especially since he had chores for them. They did not mind chores, not at all, mostly due to it giving them something to focus on besides the bear’s attempts to teach them.

He had a lot to say and many things to show them. He rambled endlessly about nature, wildlife, living in harmony with the soil, hunting and farming, how the weak should fear the strong, how modern society was garbage, and his patron ‘goddess’. Bloviating nonstop about the Mutter des Bodens, which made the children increasingly uncomfortable. A Pagan idol right out of the pages of the Old Testament blended with environmentalism. She made the rain fall. She created the animals. Mankind was corrupted by moving away from nature and, in turn, corrupted nature with pollution. Secret knowledge was required to know her, as well as giving up all the trappings of modern society, which caught Xavier as cult-like. That dismayed him even further; being kidnapped by a cult leader. To the triplets, this was increasingly obvious. It was not as disturbing as the other aspect of her mentioned.

Sacrifice. She demanded sacrifice. Whenever the bear talked about that, Xavier felt a cold lump in the pit of his stomach. While Kiam was vague about the specifics, he was sure to assure them that he would never sacrifice his ‘beloved kinder’ to her. That was for ‘lesser creatures’. Hollow assurance that did little to put his young mind at ease.

Animal sacrifice was not a concept foreign to Xavier. The Bible mentioned it multiple times. In ancient Israel, they sacrificed animals to temporarily atone for the sins of the people, honor God, and provide substance for the Levites to live on. Never anything sentient, no humans or animals capable of speech. Only feral things, in addition to cereal and drink offerings. After the cross, that was no longer needed, as Jesus paid their sin debt forever.

When Kiam brought up sacrifice, it brought to mind children passing through the flames to appease Moloch. The Aztecs sacrificing people atop their ziggurats in order to keep the sun rising every day. Sacrifices to appease the jealous and mercurial gods of the ancient Romans. Xavier was only ten years old, but was not so isolated from public discourse to be unfamiliar with common knowledge of the day. Even outside of the Bible, sacrificing living beings, even non sentient ones, to appease gods was viewed as needless at best and barbaric at worst. Kiam would disagree and take being seen as barbaric by the ‘soft handed, malformed city dwellers’ as a source of pride. His deliberate vagueness on the topic made it even worse.

Little conversation occurred between the triplets and Kiam at the moment, as they were on a walk. They had been on several of them with him over the past two days, preferring to roam his forest in the nice weather. That suited the triplets just fine; the forest was far less creepy than being inside that bear’s weird-smelling cabin.

It was nice being outside, even if they could not run away. The first attempt put that idea out of their minds. The bear gave them that attempt for free. He made it clear that the consequences would be far more dire if they attempted it again. The disorienting feeling, the fear of it all, lodged itself so deep into Xavier’s memory he had nightmares about it the past two nights. Everyone had childhood dreams of running from a monster, only to loop back around and come face to face with it right before waking up. A reality for Xavier, one he could not wake from. Kiam called this HIS forest for a reason. He had full control over it, and claimed everything in it. He made sure the children knew this.

An unexpected bonus, Kiam was mostly quiet during these walks. Normally, he talked endlessly in an attempt to teach ‘his’ children everything he knew. During their long walks, he preferred to listen to ‘the sound of nature’ and encouraged the triplets to do the same. They complied, but not to listen to nature. While they whispered to each other about certain things, as children often did, they tried their best to talk to him as little as possible. Kiam was within earshot at all times and saying something to set him off was best avoided at all costs. Since they were not entirely sure what would prompt a rapid degeneration in his mood, they kept it simple and gave one word answers whenever he did speak to them. They heard someone once say ‘children should be seen and not heard.” From how calm this kept the bear, they could infer that he agreed.

Not talking gave Janet plenty of time to work on pinecone deer heads as they walked. Being quadrupedal, she had to wait until Kiam stopped to look around, or admire some plants, or sniff the air. He seemed to do it often, so she had plenty of opportunities. They were not too hard to make. A few twigs, a couple of pebbles for eyes. Bend the cone scales out to stick things in to make an approximation of a cervine head with antlers. She hung them on trees as best as she could as they passed. Yesterday, she managed five of them. Today, she was up to four. Doing it was easy; doing it without Kiam noticing was harder. They were not sure how he would take them doing something unusual. He might even speculate that they were leaving a trail for their parents to find them. Best keep it hidden.

However, being kids, guile was not in their nature. Janet just hung pinecone deer number five when Kiam stopped. He turned his head just enough to look back at her. “What are you doing there, little Janet?” He asked with an upraised eyebrow.

Every muscle in Janet’s body froze. A pinecone deer head dangled from her paw as she held it up to a low hanging tree branch. It swayed in the gentle forest breeze; she was hoping to hang it there without the bear noticing. He noticed.

“….are you going to answer me? I have asked you a question.” The bear’s tone shifted slightly. A little deeper, with an edge of impatience.

“We’re hanging up deer heads. For the…wolves.” Claudia responded. Janet looked at her, confused at first, but only for a second. She knew a good answer when she heard one and nodded quickly.

“…..for the wolves?” Kiam tilted his head. He plodded over to the triplets. Janet and Claudia both fought to keep from backing away. A standard caution from a child who was unsure of whether or not an adult was about to hurt them. As of yet, Kiam had not struck any of them. Raised his voice, sure. Postured and scared them, but not hit them. They felt he was not above it. However, backing away would be a sign of guilt. They were not going to betray anything like that to him. And it was not entirely a lie. They were hanging them up for the wolves, but more for a couple of very specific wolves.

“Uh huh.” Claudia nodded. “Wolves like deer. So we’re putting some up.”

“Yeah.” Janet faked a smile.

Kiam rubbed his chin, regarding their words. Each triplet felt each beat of their hearts. Then, the bear smiled. Then let out a short, merry laugh. “I see!” He leaned down and gently took the pinecone from Janet’s paw. She slipped back from him, perhaps, a little too quickly.

Shifting the wooden bowl of strange, ruby-red fruits into his left arm, he held the pinecone above the branch. “You are hanging hunting effigies, is that it?”

Xavier had no idea what an effigy was. He nodded anyway. “Yeah, hunting effergies. Those.”

“Hah! Perhaps the soft handed ones have not got to you so much yet, yes? While these are not much good without magic, I’m sure the Mutter des Bodens will smile upon such things. She does like the old ways.” He hung it on a branch. “Someday, I will teach you to enchant such things that will draw in all the deer you could possibly eat.”

Xavier’s stomach did a flip. Like his parents, the triplets were pescatarians. With all the sentient deer out there, they could not bring themselves to hunt them down, for fear of accidentally killing the wrong one. Even though they looked different, the risk was too great. They looked just similar enough that mistakes were possible. He did not nod his assent, opting to stare blankly at Kiam instead.

The bear took no notice. “I encourage you to make effigies of other things too, not just deer. It will be good practice as you are learning to be proper predators.” He straightened the pinecone head on the branch. “We cannot stay here all day. Come come, kinder, follow me.” With plodding steps, he continued down the forest path. The children followed.

They wound the rest of the way to their destination in silence. Kiam had nothing to say and the children had nothing to tell him. They did not stop long enough for Janet to make any more pinecone deer heads; lupine nerves still a little too shaken to make them.

The path terminated in a small clearing. The first thing Xavier noticed as they approached was the smell. Rotting fruit baskets; a variety of fruit that was so far past their prime they were turning into liquid. This mingled with something worse that Xavier could almost find familiarity with, but not quite. It was kind of like when they walked by the alley behind the meat market on a hot day. Xavier poked his head in once and the smell washed over him like a fetid blanket. Vaguely, he recalled having to dart back out and fight to keep his lunch from escaping his body through his mouth. Never again. The smells were faint as they approached the clearing, but was overpowering here. Drops of water formed on the edges of his eyes and rolled down his cheeks. Children had strong noses, wolves moreso, and this scent occupied almost all of Xavier’s senses. He could practically taste the decaying fruit and putrefied animal remains.

Blinking away the tears, he looked to his sisters. Their eyes were watering too, but they were not looking at him. Eyes cast upward at something else in the clearing. It was Xavier’s turn to look.

At first, he was not sure what he was looking at. A large figure of some sort, made of bundled together branches, hay, plant stalks, and all manner of miscellaneous plant fibers. Looking at it closer, it was shaped like a human. A human with the wrong shape, but still a human. It was very tall, towering over Kiam by a good five feet. It had large arms made out of tree branches, with the branches extending out into a semi-circle. It gave the appearance of attempting to wrap its arms around the clearing. Even worse was the ends of the branches looked uncannily hand-like. The branches broadened and terminated in five extremely long digits. The figure’s feet were roots that extended into the ground, but it did not look like it grew from the ground. Rather, the roots extended from it into the earth. Placed there like an unsightly parasite that was rooted to the forest and attempting to either take it over or drain it of life and replace it with its own.

The limbs were disturbing enough. Then Xavier got a closer look at the body and head. The body was not all plant matter. A glint of bone, a tuft of fur, and a paw caught his eye. Woven into the trunk was an amalgamation of animals. Through wide eyes, Xavier noted a wolf’s pelt, a random assortment of legs, antlers and hooves, entire squirrels and partially decayed rabbits.

His eyes finally settled on the head. A bear’s skull sat atop a wooden orb carved like a human face. The features were blurry, but that might not have been Kiam’s intention. Xavier could not bear to look at it long. Looking at it too long made him feel an overwhelming sense of wrongness, so he pulled his eyes away. His stomach lurched and churned. Through it all, he saw Kiam. He was smiling. Of course he was smiling.

“Hush, little kinder. You may watch, but papa must do this ritual properly to honor her. I will not abide distractions.” He spoke and held aloft the bowl of fruit. He said something in a language the children did not recognize. Before their eyes, the fruit shriveled away, as if being drained of life.

Claudia and Janet screamed. Xavier still heard them, even though he was screaming too.

“It’s been four days. Four days and that’s all you have?” Marcus tried to temper his anger into simple disappointment to avoid screaming at the detective. So far, it was working, but took considerable effort.

“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to calm down.” The detective replied in the tone of a bored schoolmarm. “I understand your frustration, but getting angry at me is not helpful. Rein it in.”

Marcus was not angry yet, but that statement got him closer. He looked down at the diminutive chipmunk standing on top of the table in the interview room. His office was far too small for Marcus to even stick his head in comfortably. Even for a chipmunk, Detective Kite was short. The purple paisley shirt was too big on him and the off-red tie too long. Every time they encountered him, he was wearing bright colors. It was almost distracting, but they were too polite to say anything. Right now, however, Marcus felt the urge to bite him. He suppressed it. The wolf took in a deep breath and let it out.

“Sorry, detective. Hoped you had good news. Disappointed that you haven’t…..” Done your jobs, Marcus thought. “….found anything. Even a clue.”

“I don’t understand….” Diane cut in. The white wolf sat close to Marcus. Very close. Plenty of room in the interview area, but she wanted to stay close enough to her husband that their fur touched. After losing the triplets, she never wanted to be far from her loved ones. She was not even comfortable leaving Ronald and Cecilia home alone. “You’ve been combing the forest for days. There are no clues? You must’ve found something!”

“I’m getting to that, if you’d just let me speak.” The chipmunk huffed. He looked from Diane to Marcus with a scowl that might have unnerved his underlings, but only exasperated the wolves. He was not going to talk to them unless they gave him undivided attention and only spoke when necessary, so they kept silent and let him go on.

“Like I was saying, we’ve been combing the forest with whatever officers we can spare while avoiding disrupting the general population.” Kite held up his paws and nodded sagely. “Nothing so far, but we’re confident we’ll find more later. Thank you for coming in. We’ll call you when we have something.” He turned to trot off the desk and go back to whatever he was doing.

Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

That was it? No, unacceptable. Marcus was not letting him walk away like that. “Wait, I have more questions.” The chipmunk paused and looked back at him. His face was small, but the glower was unmistakable. “Please. Just a few more minutes of your time.”

Detective Kite almost turned around again. He looked like he was about to say something dismissive and go on his way. It might have been his conscience, or that Marcus was a very rich, prominent member of society, but he decided to stay. Not gladly. He let out a long, weary sigh; really selling the whole ‘I’m wasting my time on you because I’m a good person at heart’ thing.

“Okay, Mr. Avery. I can answer your questions. It’s my civic duty to help grieving parents any way I can; especially when their children are still out there, being lost or kidnapped or whatever.” That was forced, but Marcus would take it. People were not machines; one could not program them to have a good attitude. He sat down on the table and looked up at him. “Go ahead.”

Temper your words with the spirit, Marcus. Getting upset with someone dismissive of your plight will not help. “Where’s your team looked?”

“Why?” The detective’s eyes narrowed.

Ignore his irritation. This was important. “We’re searching for them too. If we know where you’ve looked, we can cover more ground.”

“You’re looking too?” Detective Kite frowned and tilted his head. “No, don’t do that anymore. You’ll get in our way and undermine the investigation.”

“We won’t get in the way. You said you didn’t have enough officers.” Diane added.

“I never said that.” The chipmunk responded.

The wolves looked at each other. He was technically correct. Diane spoke up. “You implied it. Said you were using the officers you can spare. That means you don’t have enough, right?”

“That doesn’t matter for a bunch of reasons.” Detective Kite shook his head. “For one thing, we do have enough officers for the most part. We’re hiring more as we speak. We just have to be careful, because we want a diverse force.”

He held up two fingers. “For another, we don’t want to cause a panic among the good people of Pleasant Valley. If we had the entire fleet of officers out pounding through the woods, people will get nervous. They might think their kids will be next. Or their husbands or wives or lovers or whatever else. They might even think the police can’t protect them and that’s bad.”

“Thirdly, we have to think of community outreach. In the past, the police have disproportionately affected disadvantaged communities. Seeing a lot of officers out there might make the horses shift uneasily in their pens and the wolves….” The chipmunk looked at Diane and Marcus, cleared his throat, then looked away. “I mean…other wolves, they might get scared seeing all those uniformed officers running around. We have to think of them too.”

“I don’t think that….” Diane began before the detective cut her off.

“But don’t worry. We have a lot of officers doing community outreach these days. I’m sure you’ve heard of our ‘toys for knives’ program.” He puffed up his chest. “And the ‘do your makeup with a detective’ initiative. That one was my idea.”

Marcus made a decision. He would do everything he could to never learn more about the ‘do your makeup with a detective’ initiative. “Are all of those really necessary? I mean, what if whoever took our kids comes back? What if….” Marcus felt his heart speed up. “What if he’s hurt them? We haven’t heard anything from whoever did this. No ransom, no calls, no letters….”

“It is kind of weird….” The detective rubbed his chin. “But, if he hasn’t done any of that, that probably means the children are fine. For now. It wouldn’t make sense for someone to just take kids and not ask for something from the parents. Usually, it’s someone who is doing it for money. Kidnap some rich guy’s little brats and….” He looked up at Marcus and his face turned a little red. He knew he said something offensive, but Marcus was too focused on things that actually mattered to be offended.

“But, what if he…..” Marcus began, only to be cut off again.

“How do you know it’s he?” The chipmunk raised an eyebrow.

Wait, was he getting angry over Marcus assuming something about the evil person who stole his children? What kind of detective was he? “I don’t.” A slow ripple of heat spread behind Marcus’ eyes. Anger. Not productive, but hard to stop. “I was implying that whoever it is might be insane and might not fit your profiling. What if….”

“Unlikely. Everyone fits a profile.” The chipmunk rolled his eyes. “There’s a category for every type of criminal. I wouldn’t expect to know that, not having a master’s degree in criminal justice. I did my capstone project on child abuse in religious communities, so I think I know a little something about kidnapping.” He smirked. “And you should know how dangerous it is to falsely accuse someone of a crime, considering you were on the receiving end years ago. I read your case file too. That mob wanted you dead for something you didn’t do. Forgot it already? Do you want to set some random guy on fire because he might have kidnapped your kids?”

Marcus peeled back his lips and showed his teeth. Now he was angry. A callously indifferent detective, one who should have been out there looking for his kids, was trying to tell him that he was the bad guy? Simply for saying that the kidnapper might have been a bad person who was beyond the chipmunk’s narrow worldview to fit into an academic box.

Diane was a good wife. She spoke before Marcus could tell the chipmunk exactly where he could stick his ‘master’s degree in criminal justice’. “We both know you’ll find the right…..” The detective was one of those. Do not use too much gendered language. “…person. The one responsible for this. What can we do to help?”

The chipmunk seemed mollified. He crossed his arms. “You can go home and wait for the kidnapper to contact you. Then call us. That will give us the lead we’re looking for. Nothing else. This is a police matter now. We’ll handle it. You have two other kids who need your attention. I’d focus on them. It’s what I’d do if I had any kids.”

Marcus still felt like screaming at him. Maybe not the right thing to do, but it felt justified. Diane was not finished. “What about those flowers I brought you? The ones from the park.” She asked.

“Hm?” Another head tilt from the chipmunk. Then it hit him. “Oh, those things. They’re just normal flowers. No drugs. No poisons. Nothing. The lab couldn’t detect a thing on them.”

“But, they opened right before I lost consciousness. Something isn’t right about them.”

“If there were any drugs, the lab would’ve found them. You’re probably misremembering it. Trauma can do that.” The chipmunk shrugged. “You probably fell asleep because you’re a tired mom with too many kids. The guilt you felt about losing them got attached to some flowers you saw before you fell asleep. It happens.”

“I’m telling you, there’s something about those flowers!” Now Diane was the one riled. “I’m telling you….”

“And I’m telling you they’re normal flowers.” The detective scowled. “Don’t blame this on me. I’m not the bad guy here. You’re guilty you let your kids get taken, but that’s not my fault.”

Marcus was still angry, but he felt it sort of….fade. For some reason, he felt bad for the little chipmunk. He was inept and useless and did not even know it. How could someone get mad at a clown? He chuckled and shook his head. “You don’t know anything.” He said simply.

Detective Kite blinked. “What?” He asked.

“Let us know if you find anything. Have a nice day, detective.” Marcus nudged his wife, indicating it was time to go.

“….all right. I know that look.” The chipmunk stood up and shook a finger. “If you go looking for your kids, stay out of our way. If you interfere with police business, I’m not above locking you up. This is my case and I won’t let you mess it up for me.”

“We won’t.” Was all Marcus said before walking out.

Cecilia and Ronald were waiting for them in the lobby. The wolves collected them without a word. Once they were out of the police station, Diane hugged her husband tight, not knowing what else to do. The squirrels did the same; children knew when their parents were hurting.

“They’re not going to help us, are they?” Diane stated.

“No, but they’ll think they are and feel good about it.” Marcus growled. “Can’t believe it’s come to this. If you can’t expect the police to help, where else can you go?”

“I know Someone who can help….” Cecilia looked up at her mother with a smile.

It only took a half second for them to know to Whom she referred.

Marcus chuckled. “When everything else is exhausted, might as well ask the most powerful being in all the universe if He can help.”

“The God who would leave the 99 to go after the one will help us. I know He will.” Diane responded. “We’ve been praying every night, but we should pray right now. All of us. Together.”

“It’s good to be able to pray in public again…..I missed it.” Ronald smiled.

Marcus nodded. “Yes. Not in front of the door, though. We won’t get in anyone’s way. But now is the right time.”

The four of them slipped out of the way and knelt on the pavement. They felt the Lord’s presence. The Holy Spirit, the councilor and comforter. Some would have said they should have waited until they were at home. They wanted to speak to God right now, while everything was still fresh in their minds. They bowed their heads and Marcus spoke.

“Heavenly Father, we come before you as a family. Broken and hopeless, we humbly plead with you in our time of need. Please, Father God, send someone to help us. Someone to get our children back. Guide us and comfort us, and watch over our lost children. Keep them safe…..” They continued to pray as a family. Praying with all of their hearts and keeping that hope. Praying for strength. Praying for help. They knew it was in God’s hands.

David’s body burned. His arms burned. His legs burned. His chest and head burned. Everything around him burned. The heat washed over him, every part erupting in pain as the flames danced across his skin. No matter how much it burned and how badly it hurt, no matter how much time passed, his flesh was never consumed. The flames never diminished and, somehow, he knew they never would. In this lake of fire he would stay. The flames would never be quenched; not tomorrow and not for all of eternity.

David’s head snapped upwards and his eyes opened. Springing to his feet in a blur, he looked around to gauge where he was. Eyes wide and staring, it took him several seconds to remember. The same alley he went to sleep in, curled against a comfortableish wall, partially obscured by some dumpsters. Far enough out of the way to reduce the likelihood of any foot traffic disturbing his sleep.

It was that dream again. Second time this month. David shook his head to clear the remnants out. Months ago, he listened in to part of the sermon at Nathan’s church. David never attended; he saw no reason to. Any God that allowed this much evil to operate was either too indifferent to warrant worship or too weak to do anything about it. He refused to acknowledge such a God, no matter how much strength the belief gave his friend. It was his policy not to comment on it, as the imaginary was irrelevant to his fight against evil. The one part that mentioned eternity in a lake of fire stuck with him, despite his best efforts to dispel it. A fitting end for evildoers, but not a hero. He was not sure why he kept dreaming about it. Ignoring it was difficult, but doable. Push it out of your mind, hero. Think about what matters. The bear. The victims. The punishing of those who did evil. That is your purpose, not speculating about the afterlife, if there even was one.

Feeling restless and wired after a nightmare induced adrenaline surge, he decided to forgo breakfast until his stomach settled. He picked up his backpack and slung it over his shoulders before walking out of the alley. No matter how unsettled he was, he never forgot his backpack. It contained all his possessions, so leaving it behind was not an option. Behavior like this was common to any homeless person.

David rounded the corner and checked the sky. The sun was just starting to come up and the street lights were still on. It was early enough the streets were deserted. Most still occupied their beds; not ready to give up on sleep and face the day. Day five into occupying this realm and he had a feel for the rhythm of the world.

The food was all right. He had some salmon steaks the previous day; purchased with some money from this world gained through selling a small gold disc. Nathan gave him a couple of the nondescript, two-ounce discs to trade in. Common practice dictated one did not want to go to a new world with money and coins bearing markings from other worlds. Too suspicious and unlikely to be accepted as legal tender. Nearly every world valued gold.

What David liked less about the salmon steaks was what they were seasoned with. The only store open at night was one that only served marinated meats. The lemon/black pepper/chipotle/turmeric/grapefruit blend left a film in his mouth. It had the mass-produced flavor of cheap jerky. Unpalatable, even for someone who could safely eat rotting food. He turned and walked into a nearby laundromat. They always had public restrooms where he could wash out his mouth.

Empty, but not quiet, the laundromat had no people but televisions left on at high volume. David looked from left to right and sniffed the air. Detergent, dryer sheets, old linen, new linen, bleach, body soil, dander from various animals, but nothing fresh. Alone, good. Alone meant no threats.

The bathroom was in the back, judging by the sign on a door with ‘all species restroom-men’s’ written on it. On the way to it, a news bulletin on the nearest ceiling-mounted television caught his attention. Sometimes, the local news was a good source of information, but those incidences were rare. Still, no harm in listening and something in the back of his mind told him this was important.

On screen was a female otter with wavy black hair and a red bow in it. The bow was her only article of clothing. In this world of sentient animals, clothing rules were pretty loose. The long headfur was more than a little unusual, so David assumed this was a wig. She was standing in front of a park. Swing sets and a slide were behind her. No children. She spoke into a microphone with an 8 written on it.

“I’m here at Mercer Park, the last place where the Avery triplets were seen before their disappearance.” She made a sweeping gesture at the park, pointing out the place where the triplets would be if they were not kidnapped. “It’s been over five days since they went missing. The only question is, why?” She walked to the side and the camera followed her. She was now standing in a spot where the forest and field were in the background. No playground equipment to be seen. “Why would the children run away? How could Pleasant Valley’s most successful, prominent citizens let their children out of their sight long enough for them to run away? Why would children who have everything run away in the first place?” She adjusted her hair. David swore he saw the entire hairline shift, as a solid unit, on top of her head. “Marcus and Diane Avery, the children’s parents, have a different theory. They believe their children were kidnapped. Being prominent figures in Pleasant Valley’s prosthetics and robotics industries, that cannot be ruled out. Police are pursuing the investigation, but currently have no leads, motive, or suspects in the case. The investigation is ongoing, and it’s certainly possible that a former business associate or customer could be responsible. No one is that successful without making enemies or stepping on people to get where they are.”

She gestured downward. The cameraman, as if taking that for a cue, moved the camera down. Scattered at the otter’s feet were several red flowers with gold accents. That mattered more than the wig. As if realizing the mistake, the cameraman snapped the camera back up to focus on the newscaster.

“With no evidence, however, one can only speculate. Were the children kidnapped? Did they run away? Was there an accident and the Averys are covering it up? No one knows for sure. But, you can be sure that we’ll do everything we can to expose the truth behind this heinous crime. I’m Katrina Courtney with Channel 8 news. Back to you, Francis and Morgan.”

Flowers. Familiar flowers. Familiar flowers and missing children. David would recognize those flowers anywhere. Those flowers could have been native to this world, but unlikely. Even if they were, this was the best lead David had to go on at present. The fake-looking otter mentioned Pleasant Valley, so that was where he would go.

He checked a generic road map he picked up for free at a convenience store. David could not read words very well, but could read maps. If he started walking now, it would take a day and a half to get there. One day if he hurried. It was time to hurry.

He folded up the map and promptly left the laundromat. Everything else could wait. Time lost meant kids lost and a hero should always prioritize saving children.