Well, my goodness, it's been so long. I can't believe it's been a whole year since I've updated this story. To those who remember this little story, thanks for coming back and stay till the end for an announcement.

They weren't kidding when they said cities don't sleep. I've been here for a week or two and sleeping is still a pain unless I'm at work where the walls are actually soundproofed, which has made it a pain to stay focused on the investigation when I'm still adjusting to sleeping in the loud city.

We finally have a good lead courtesy of the FBI home office tracing a purchase of an unspecified vehicle to our one and only 'Peter Quill's' at a used car lot. After arriving on the scene with a warrant, Jack and I quickly found out that he bought a 2000 white Chevy cargo van which was never registered almost a year ago, and that the lot was technically running an illegal business.

But what equaled it all out was when the home office informed us that this 'Peter Quill' didn't even exist up until about a year and a half ago on any records whatsoever. Facial recognition for the driver's license photo picked up a guy named Phil on the other side of the country and failed to pick up anything else in the database, so this guy is either a really good hacker, an illegal alien, or something else entirely. But, that's something I can figure out tomorrow.

"Finally, some time to relax," I said blissfully as I belly-flopped onto the bed.

'buzz buzz'

It's probably just a notification.

'buzz buzz'

Wait… is that my….

'buzz buzz'

"Ughhhh." I groaned out as I fished out the vibrating phone from my pocket.

Quickly swiping the green phone icon to the side, I let out a sigh as I leaned up from the bed and put the phone against my drooping ears.

"Hopps," I said into the phone tiredly, my eyes half-closed.

"Savage here, the home office confirmed my theory, Wilde made it out of town a few days ago," Savage said tiredly, a hint of irritation in his voice.

Sighing again, I moved to stand up from my comfy bed.

"You don't need to come in now Hopps, you need your sleep," Jack said quickly, something falling to the ground in the background.

Slowly sitting back down on my comfy bed I pumped my fist with a triumphant smile.

"You sure?"

"Yeah, he got out of town via the train system, so we're just gathering all the information we can at this point," Jack explained.

"Is that all?" I asked as I held back a yawn.

"We're thinking he went west… but that's it for now," Jack said, his voice distant from the phone.

West? There's not much out there other than open fields and medium-sized and small towns for a few hundred miles…well, other than Bunny Burrow.

"Well, I'll see you in the morning, Jack," I said with a yawn.

"See ya then," Jack said, his voice far from the phone again before he ended the call.

Slowly laying back down on the bed, I shook my head in disbelief as my eyes felt droopier than before. I mean, how did Wilde even manage to get out when we were watching? We only want information on why the 'Peter Quill' wants to kill or capture him, nothing else. Sure, we've found out about some of his illegal activities, but if he leads us to the criminal who killed those cops and currently has my brother god knows where then I'm sure the DA will make a deal.

I hope so...

Wait, I haven't called Ma and Pa in a few days, and with Wilde heading west towards BunnyBurrow, it'll probably be the last time I'll be able to call for a little while. Groaning like a child, I slowly brought up my phone and checked my messages, my eyes widening as I just noticed over two dozen messages from my siblings at home.

'Alison is back' 'Alison was hurt' 'Alison got scratched by something' 'Alison was missing all night' were just a few of them.

Quickly dialing up ma and pa's home phone and a little more awake than before, I hoped that Alison was alright. She waved so vigorously when I got on the train to Zootopia.

_Johnny_

Dad quickly dragged me to the basement hours ago after I overheard his conversation with the raccoon, and he even took my phone before locking me in here. He said he didn't want me calling Judy, or telling anyone else in the family what I heard. I screamed and banged on the door for what felt like a good hour before giving up, that was several hours ago, and no one came to open it. So I'm guessing Ma, Pa, and Alison were the only ones in the house. I tried getting out other ways, but this is our tornado shelter for the family and everything is locked down tight. It's probably around eight o'clock, and at the moment, I'm laying down on a big couch that we had down here, and waiting for dad to come and open the door.

"Why are you working for the raccoon dad?" I asked aloud to myself, confused and angry.

I didn't want to believe it when I first heard it, but I knew the answer. It was obvious. Everyone knows that the raccoon has Andrew, and mom and dad would do anything to get him back and out of the clutches of that cop killer. The raccoon is probably threatening to hurt Andrew if he doesn't help him get that fox the FBI is searching for….

"Goddammit." I yelled out "I have to get out of here."

Suddenly, the door to the upstairs flew open with a large crash. My ears perked up and I jumped a little bit. I heard several other voices, and I quickly got up from the couch as I watched in confusion as Stu lead several other bunnies down the stairs, the door shutting and locking behind them.

Seven bunnies in total, 3 white-furred, 1 black, 1 grey, 1 brown. They were all older except for one white-furred and I've never seen them before in my life, but my dad was leading them down here for some reason.

"Is that your boy? The one who knows?" the white bunny about as old a Stu asked curiously.

He seemed to be built like a tank, and the others were in similar shape, but the way he held himself, the way his head stood tall, it was obvious he was in charge of the others. But what really surprised me was the hunting/tactical gear they were wearing, the vests on their chests, and the long daggers on their hips. However, the strangest thing was the little pin on each of their chests, a red cross on a white background, it seemed familiar but I couldn't place a name for it at the moment.

"Yeah that's Johnny, I don't want him going to the cops or my daughter so I'm keeping him locked down here," Stu explained as

I raised a brow in confusion and was about to ask a question but my dad quickly cut me off with a harsh glare that told me to shut up and to stay where I was. A little annoyed, I watched as the seven of them quickly descended down the rest of the stairs and centered around a table near the stairs, one of them pulling out a map and rolling it across the table.

"Come here Johnny, you already know about all of this," the white rabbit in charge said with a wave of his hand, his eyes on the map on the table.

"And you are?" I asked curiously as I stayed in my spot.

His ears seemed to twitch before he turned to me with a smile on his face, his eyes and posture seemed friendly enough.

"The name's Wilson Bryer, I'm from Deerbrook," he introduced himself with a nod.

My dad was about to cut in but I quickly asked another question before he could cut me off again.

"Why are you guys here?" I asked quickly, wondering why our basement was filled with strangers.

"Well Johnny, me and my… crew, here are going to catch that fox for your family," he said with a smile as he crossed his arms over his chest.

A shiver went down my back for some reason, but he still looked friendly enough, and I quickly looked at dad with a questioning glare, hoping for an explanation. I mean, he's working for the raccoon and now he's gathered together a hunting team? What the hell?!

"We're going to get Andrew back Johnny, and we can't go to the police for it," Wilson added.

I glared at him "Why not?" I asked as I crossed my arms.

Wilson looked at Stu who looked uncomfortable before turning back to me "Come here and I'll explain it to you."

I looked at him suspiciously and stayed in my spot, I mean, what person just shows up out of the woodwork with a skill of catching foxes? Any sane animal would call the police, but Wilson just seemed amused by my refusal to walk up to him and he simply leaned back against the table.

"Do you know why that raccoon has your brother?" Wilson asked, his smile gone and a calculating look taking over his features.

"Yeah," I said slowly "He's holding him hostage to get that fox."

"Exactly, but do you also know he's watching your entire family?" he asked with a raised brow.

"What?"

"Every phone call, text, email, and picture you take with your phone is picked up by the raccoon. If any of you try and go to the police, or if the police even make a peep about this, the raccoon will know about it," Wilson explained.

"He's watching us?" I said with a little surprise, totally forgetting about that kind of stuff.

I looked at dad for confirmation and he nodded, a cold chill going down my spine.

"Yes, so until we get the fox and get your brother back, you can't tell anyone about this," Wilson said firmly, his imposing frame and voice leaving no room for argument.

I wanted to think it over more despite how logical it sounded, but he leaned forward and his eyes hardened, waiting for a quick answer.

"Yes, sir," I said with a curt nod.

He smiled again and place his hands on his hips "Good."

_Nick_

My eyes shot open and I quickly jumped up from my sleep, a low whine emanating from my throat as I looked around me for something, anything. A low tone played loudly in my ear and I quickly covered my ears as I spotted no one around me in the dark. It was a constant tone, like a low beep, and god it was aggravating.

"What the hell? What is that sound?" I said through clenched teeth, my eyes searching through the dark tree patch I was in.

The tone didn't get quieter, nor did it didn't stay constant, but sure as hell got louder. A chill ran down my spine as I continued to look through the darkness, still spotting nothing.

"Time to go," I said hurriedly as I quickly bent down and grabbed my backpack, flattening my ears with a wince as I slung it over my shoulders.

Covering my ears again, I tried to see if I could spot anything in the dark, but still, there was nothing. This isn't good, not good at all. Someone's doing that on purpose, and last I heard they don't serenade the crops with low tones in the country.

"This ain't-"

When suddenly, it stopped.

The silence that followed was earth-shattering, not a sound of a bird or bug anywhere, and it immediately felt like a hundred eyes were staring into my soul and no matter which way I looked, I couldn't see the eyes.

"Shit."

It's probably too short for your liking, but I originally started this chapter off with something way too out of the blue. but I really liked it. Couple that with life, writers block, laziness, and other things like that, and I got myself a big plate of nothing done over the past year. If you ever read a story by J Shute called The Evacuee (Dark Halloween Version) then maybe you can guess what it might have entailed with what's in this chapter, and maybe I'll release that cut part at a later date if anyone's interested.

It sucks I haven't updated, but, it's coupled with some unfolding thoughts I've had about Fanfic for a while. So, I got a question if anyone wants to answer it.

What does a quality story look like on this platform? Years ago I started reading stuff on here when I was 12, and its only gotten easier to pick out the bad fics, but I can't help but notice (at least to me) that this platform is getting worse to some degree. Anyone else notice that? The quality of stories in my view hasn't gone up over the years, and it seems to only go down with every cliche and single chapter fic that's dumped here. Maybe I've just absorbed too much and should move on to something else in life, or maybe most of the people on this site are illiterate children who can't write worth a damn or craft a decent or unique story? I don't know, so I ask you, what does a quality fic look like on this platform?

Anyways, I'll try and update sooner, but life is what it is. Cheers and have a good night wherever you are!