Kidnapped!

When the other Brisby children – Theresa, Martin and Cynthia – heard that they were finally going to journey to Thorn Valley to see the Rats, they were all delighted and immediately began packing the stuff they would need for the journey.

In human years, all the Brisby children were little more than toddlers and infants, but seeing as mice age differently to humans, in mouse years, they were considerably older. Theresa was now about 17; Martin was 13, nearing 14; Timothy 12; and Cynthia 9, nearing 10.

"This is going to be a great trip!" Theresa said, as she and Cynthia folded their clothes into a small case.

"Oh, yes!" Cynthia said. When she'd been 4, she'd been quite fidgety, but she had a bit more self-control now that she was older. She and her sister were having no problem packing their things, but with their brothers, it was a totally different scenario.

Martin was trying to prevent Timothy from getting their things mixed up due to Timothy's excitement. Timothy was so excited that he didn't seem to care whose stuff went to whom.

"Timmy, that's my shirt, not yours," he said, as he pulled his shirt from Timmy's case for the third time.

"Marty, does it really matter who carries what?" Timmy said dismissively. "What matters is that we're going to see the Rats of NIMH!"

"You're gonna hurt yourself at this rate, you jumping bean! Cool it or get out of my room!"

"Hey, it's our room too, Marty!"

"Not if you keep acting like you have jumping beans in your pants!"

"Well, you don't seem appreciative enough of this trip!"

"Alright, that's enough, you two," Mrs Brisby said, moving over to help the two brothers, having just packed her own things. "Timothy, I understand your excitement, but you need to calm down or you're going to hurt yourself or your brother."

"But, Mom…"

"But nothing, Timmy. If you don't calm down and behave, you can't go; simple as that."

At this, Timmy's face fell. "I'm sorry, Mom; it's just that… I've been dreaming of this for such a long time; I can't help it."

"I know, Timmy, but you won't be able to go if you hurt yourself. And you need to be careful as to how you arrange your clothes with Martin. They've been mixed up enough, already. So please, save your excitement for when we actually get there."

"Okay, Mom."

"BRISBY! BRISBY!"

"Oh, no," Martin groaned. "Not her again!"

Mrs Brisby went back into the kitchen and sure enough, Auntie Shrew had just come in. Auntie Shrew wasn't really the children's aunt; she wasn't even a blood relative of theirs, for that matter. But she was an old friend of Mrs Brisby when they were younger, so she had agreed to help watch over the children, as a babysitter. She was also self-proclaimed leader of the field. However, she was strict, rather nosey and extremely fussy, with the result that she got on very poorly with Martin; with the rest of the children, she got on okay.

"Ah, there you are, Brisby," Auntie Shrew said. "I see you and your children are preparing to head off somewhere."

"Yes, we're going to go to Thorn Valley and see the Rats."

The Shrew narrowed her eyes. She had greatly distrusted the Rats, considering them outsiders, sneaky and conniving. Even after they had helped save the Brisby home, while she was grateful, she was still glad to see the back of them when they left.

"I suppose it was at the request of your fidgety little children," she said.

"Yes, they've been very eager to see Thorn Valley," Mrs Brisby said "and I see no reason why I should deny them that pleasure any longer. Do you wish to come with us?"

"Hmph! No thank you!" Auntie Shrew said firmly. "I have a field to run, and I prefer its quietness. Who knows how loud it could be with all those rats performing their crazy experiments?"

"Okay, then," Mrs Brisby said. She thought she heard Martin give a sigh of relief. Theresa and Cynthia, however, seemed unhappy.

"Come on, Auntie Shrew," Cynthia pleaded. "It'll be fun!"

"We want you to come," Theresa said. "I'm sure the Rats will be nice and we enjoy your company."

"I don't," Martin said.

"Martin!" Mrs Brisby snapped. "Be nice!"

Auntie Shrew gave a small smile. "I'm touched that you want me to come – aside from Martin, it is – but I really can't, children. Aside from the reasons I've just given, I'm too old for travel. Speaking of travel," she looked back at Mrs Brisby, "how are you planning on getting to Thorn Valley?"

"I was thinking of having Jeremy and Viola fly us there," Mrs Brisby said, though she couldn't supress a shudder. She'd always been afraid of heights and still didn't really know how Jeremy had talked her into letting him fly her to the Great Owl. Even so, flying was the fastest way to get to Thorn Valley and Mrs Brisby knew she couldn't let her fear ruin this trip of a lifetime.

Auntie Shrew didn't like Jeremy much, either. She'd always been put off by his clumsiness and lack of social skills. "Why should you ask that klutz of a crow?" she asked. "From what you told me, he proved more of an annoyance than an aide two years ago."

"Yes," Mrs Brisby admitted, "but he's still my friend and I'm sure living with his new mate may have helped him improve on his clumsiness."

"Well then, you go and find him, if you wish. I'll stay here and help the kids finish packing," Auntie Shrew said.

"Okay," Mrs Brisby said. "Kids, be good for Auntie Shrew until I get back, okay? And Timmy; Martin, behave yourselves."

"Okay, Mom," Timmy said.

Mrs Brisby headed pass Auntie Shrew and out of the door. But as she began to make her way towards Jeremy's tree, she again got the funny and uneasy feeling that she was being watched. For a moment, she thought she heard the rustling of leaves, but then again, a little breeze was blowing through. She soothed her thoughts by reminding herself that Auntie Shrew was there to watch the kids while she was gone.

They'll be fine she thought before heading off.

How very wrong she was…

The mysterious rat hiding in the shadows was watching her leave, grinning.

"So, Mrs Brisby has now left her children to visit that silly crow friend of hers. This was easier than I expected; I didn't even need to draw her away from her kids. However, it seems she's beginning to suspect my presence; looks like now is my chance to move in. That shrew won't be any trouble at all. He, he, he."

Mrs Brisby made her way across the field towards Jeremy's tree, which wasn't that far away from the lee of the stone. It was a smart oak tree and the nest Jeremy shared with his new mate, Viola, was up on one of the lower branches, set below the leaves. As Mrs Brisby reached the tree roots, she looked up and saw the nest. It was made up of a lot of string. She could see no sign of Jeremy or his mate.

"Jeremy!" she called. "Jeremy, are you there? Is anybody home?"

"Hello?" said a female voice in return. Viola Right – that was her full name – poked her head over the side of the nest. She was something of a foil to Jeremy; whereas he was clumsy and socially inept, Viola was careful, patient and very polite. She had soon become good friends with Mrs Brisby and had even taken to calling her 'Betty', which was short for Elizabeth.

"Ah, Betty, it's you," Viola said, spreading her wings and flying down to greet her. "And what brings you here on this fine day?"

"I was hoping you and Jeremy could fly me and my kids to Thorn Valley to see the Rats of NIMH," Mrs Brisby said. "Where is Jeremy, by the way?"

"He's out looking for a morning flight and I think he wanted to drop by and see you," Viola said. "Anyway, I thought you were afraid of heights. I'd hate to be the cause of any discomfort, Betty."

"I know," Mrs Brisby said. "But my children are so excited to go and I cannot let my own fears impair their enjoyment and flying is the fastest way to travel there."

"But which way is Thorn Valley," Viola asked. "Jeremy always forgets whenever I ask him where it is."

"Justin told me before he left that it was south of the farm, nestled somewhere in the mountains," Mrs Brisby said. "Hopefully… it shouldn't be too long a flight."

"Well, we'll discuss it with Jeremy when he gets back," Viola said. As if right on cue, Jeremy's voice called out to them.

"Hey Viola; Mrs Briz! Hello!"

Jeremy came swooping down towards them, though not without bumping into a few branches and getting entangled in the strings of his nest, resulting in him dangling above them upside down.

"Oh, great!" he said. "Not again!"

Viola and Mrs Brisby giggled. Jeremy's clumsiness never ceased to amuse them.

"Anyway, how are you, Mrs Briz?" Jeremy asked.

"Jeremy, I told you before; just call me Elizabeth," Mrs Brisby said. "But anyway, I'm fine. I just came to ask you and Viola a favour."

"Really?" Jeremy said. "What about your house guest?"

Mrs Brisby was puzzled. "House guest? I wasn't expecting any guests."

"You sure? When I was flying over your home, I saw this guy wearing some dark cloak heading towards your home and I just assumed he must be a guest visiting you. Thought I heard a scream, but it was probably just my imagination."

Mrs Brisby's heart plummeted. "The children!" she screamed and without another word, she dashed off back towards her home as fast as she could. Viola took off and followed her, leaving Jeremy behind.

"Um, hello, ladies," he said. "A little help here…"

Mrs Brisby raced home; not caring with her hands and feet got cut or stung or if she felt exhausted. Why had she not alerted Auntie Shrew to be on the lookout, when she had suspected the presence of something wicked? Had she learned nothing from her experience from the Rats and Jenner? If something terrible had happened to them, she'd never forgive herself.

At last, she reached her home, and found a horrible sight. The door had been wrenched off its hinges, as if someone had tried to open it forcefully.

Viola landed behind Mrs Brisby. "Oh no," she said.

Mrs Brisby hurried inside and her fears were confirmed. The house looked like it had been ransacked. The table had been overturned; the packing cases lay on the floor, their contents strewn everywhere; hot cinders had been knocked from the kitchen stove and had set fire from a few clothes, which had now been reduced to ashes. There was no sign of life anywhere.

I'm too late Mrs Brisby thought. Then… no! It can't be true!

"Theresa!" she called. "Martin! Kids, can you hear me?"

There was no reply.

"Kids!" Mrs Brisby called again, tears beginning to well up in her eyes.

"Brisby," said a weak voice. Mrs Brisby whipped around. Auntie Shrew lay slumped against the wall; she had been stabbed in the chest and blood was dripping from her fur.

"Auntie Shrew!" Mrs Brisby cried, running over to her. "What happened here?"

"Some evil… rat," Auntie Shrew wheezed. "He… came for… the children…"

"Who was he?" Mrs Brisby asked desperately.

"Didn't say… his name," Auntie Shrew gasped. "But he said… something about… revenge… Brisby, I tried… to defend the children; I tried, but he… was too strong for me. He… stabbed me… and then went for the kids. He… got Theresa… Martin and Cynthia… Timmy made a run for it and the rat… went after him. No doubt he's… been captured too…"

"No," Mrs Brisby whimpered, tears now streaking down her face.

"Brisby… I'm so sorry, old friend… "I failed you…"

"No, it's not your fault; it's mine. I should have warned you. As I was leaving the house, I suspected someone's presence, but I just shrugged it off!"

"Brisby… you must find your children… go to the Rats… they can… help you… save them…" And with that, Auntie Shrew breathed her last.

Mrs Brisby dissolved into tears, sobbing uncontrollably into her cape. Her children had been taken away and it was all her fault. She felt empty; deprived of purpose; wretched.

"What kind of mother am I?!" she wailed. "Kids, I'm so sorry! Jonathan, I'm so sorry!"

She didn't know what to do. Auntie Shrew had said to go to the Rats, but why bother? How could they help her now?

"Mom? Mom, are you there?"

Mrs Brisby's head jerked upwards. It was coming from outside. Was that who she thought it was? Could one of her children still be okay?

"Timmy?" she called. "Is that you, sweetie?"

Timothy came staggering through the door, soaking wet; his arm dripping blood; his eyes wide and his face white with fear.

"MOM!" he cried, running into her arms and beginning to cry loudly into her shoulder. Mrs Brisby held her younger son tightly.

"Oh, Timmy!" she cried, also crying, but softly. "You're alright!"

"Oh, Mom, it was… it was horrible!" Timmy sniffled. "This evil rat came… sniff stabbed Auntie Shrew… sob captured Marty, Theresa and Cynthia… sob came after me… sniff it was so scary!"

Mrs Brisby stroked her son's back gently. "Shhh, it's okay, Timmy; it's okay. Mommy's here now, shhhh!"

Relief was sweeping through Mrs Brisby; Timothy was safe, at least.

For a few moments, they stood there; the mother hugging her crying son tightly, stroking his back for comfort. Finally, Timmy calmed down.

"Tell me, Timmy; how did you escape?" Mrs Brisby said, wiping his tears away and lifting him into her lap.

Timmy sniffed, took a deep breath and then said. "I made a run for it, hoping to find you and that evil rat came after me…"

"Just one quick question, Timmy," Mrs Brisby said. "What did the rat look like? Did you see his face?"

Timmy shook his head. "No, Mom; he never took his hood down. But he sounded so scary. He almost reminded me of what you said about Jenner. But it couldn't be him; he's dead.

"Anyway, I ran as fast as I could; in fact, I ran faster than I expected. The rat couldn't catch with me. Then, as I was passing the stream, he threw a rock at me and it hit my arm." He gestured at his still bleeding wound.

"Does it still hurt?"

"Not too badly, Mom. But I would like it to stop bleeding."

"Here, I'll get some bandages." Mrs Brisby lifted Timothy off her, set him on a chair, draped a towel over him and went to find some bandages. Thankfully, the first aid was still where she remembered; under her bed. She returned to Timothy, and began unrolling bandages. "Go on."

"Well, I jumped into the stream, hoping to hide there," Timmy said, as his mother began to bandage his wound, "but my blood gave me away. He dived in after me; he almost got me. But then, Jeremy dropped in; literally. He fell into the river and kept the rat distracted long enough for me to get away. I climbed out of the stream and hid. The evil rat looked around for me, but he reasoned I'd been swept away by the stream and so he left… taking Martin and my sisters with him." Tears welled up in his eyes again.

Mrs Brisby finished bandaging her son's arm and took his hand.

"Timmy, did the rat say anything about where he was taking the others?"

"I don't know," Timmy said. "I think he mentioned NIMH once or twice; maybe he's taken them to one of the traps left by NIMH."

Mrs Brisby's blood turned ice cold and her face went pale as a ghost. When the agents from NIMH had found the Rats had disappeared from the farm without trace, they had left traps behind should they return. Mrs Brisby knew where each one of them was and she thought she knew which trap her children might be in.

"You stay here!" she said quickly to Timmy. "I'm going to go and see if I can save them!" And she hurried off before Timmy could say anything else.

She passed Viola as she dashed out across the field.

"Betty, what's going on?" Viola called after her, confused.

But Mrs Brisby didn't reply. She was determined to reach her children in time.

The nearest trap by NIMH was near the stream and because Mrs Brisby knew this field like the back of her paw, she could find it in very little time, though she was getting tired from all these running.

Mrs Brisby reached the cage to find Martin, Theresa and Cynthia trapped inside.

"MOM!" Cynthia cried. "We knew you'd come!"

"Help us!" Theresa wailed.

"Get us outta this thing!" Martin said.

"My dear children!" Mrs Brisby panted. "It's gonna be okay! I'm going to get you out three out of there! Everything's going to be fine; I promise."

"Mom, there's a latch on top of the cage," Theresa said. "Undo it quickly!"

Mrs Brisby scrambled up the side of the cage to where the latch for the cage was. It was a lever that made the doors open and close. She took hold of it and began to push it as hard as she could. However, the lever had become rusty due to lack of maintenance and was stuck.

"It's stuck!" Mrs Brisby said desperately.

"Come on, Mom!" Theresa said encouragingly. "You can do it!"

Then, they heard voices. Mrs Brisby looked round; two men in white coats were approaching. She'd forgotten that today was the day NIMH agents came to the farm to check up on things. Each cage was connected to an alarm bell and it must have alerted them to their capture.

Mrs Brisby pushed as hard as she could, but the lever still wouldn't budge. She was sweating now; not just from effort, but from fear. If those agents got her children, they were lost.

"Mom, it's too late!" Martin said. "You'll never get this cage open in time! Go; save yourself!"

"I'm… not… leaving you!" Mrs Brisby grunted, continuing to push. This time, the lever moved, but only by a few centimetres; it had to move all the way for the cage to open.

Then, suddenly… "Look, Joe, there's a mouse on top of the cage!"

"Get it then, Al!"

Mrs Brisby instinctively dived out the way before a hand could grab her. She fell to the ground and gazed up in terror at the two men in white men, whose faces were in shadow.

"Hmm, it's a field mouse, Joe. Shall we take it with us?"

"Nah, it doesn't look much worth! You get the cage."

The man named Al bent down and picked up the cage.

"NO!" Mrs Brisby screamed and dived forward to grab it; she was determined to not let them take her children, no caring that she was up against two big humans.

"Oi!" the man named Joe said and he swatted her away.

Mrs Brisby hit the ground hard and she felt that her bottom had been badly bruised. But she ignored this; she looked up again to see the two scientists carrying away her children.

"No, you can't!" she cried and ran after them. Her whole body now felt exhausted and her muscles were crying for rest. But she couldn't stop now.

She reached the two scientists within moments. "Stop!" she cried. "Those are my children!"

But to the scientists, they just heard squeaking. Joe looked back down and saw Mrs Brisby.

"Hey, it's that mouse again! She's following us! Go away, you little pest!" And he kicked her away. Mrs Brisby landed with a splash in a puddle; pain shot through her back and she could barely sit up again.

"Joe, maybe you should get that mouse; we might as well, seeing it's following us," Al said. "I'll take the others to the van." And he walked off with the cage to the van that was parked in front of the Fitzgibbon's home.

Joe moved forward and reached for Mrs Brisby. She was too sore to run for it; she was trembling in fright.

Then, Viola came swooping down and snapped her beak at Joe, cawing loudly. Joe swatted at her.

"Get off me, you stupid bird!" he shouted, but Viola was pecking at him. "Ow! Stop it!"

When Viola didn't stop, he turned and began to run after Al.

"What is it?"

This pesky crow is trying to peck my eyes out; get to the van, now!"

The scientists both ran for it, Viola chasing after them.

"MOM!" Mrs Brisby heard her children screaming out to her, but there was nothing else she could do for you. She only hoped Viola could save them. However, a few moments later, she heard the starting of an engine and the sound of a van driving off and assumed the worst. This was confirmed when Viola returned to her, without Martin, Theresa or Cynthia.

"I'm so sorry, Betty," she said guiltily. "They got in the van before I could stop them. I failed."

"You did all you could, Viola," Mrs Brisby sniffed, as fresh tears trickled from her eyes. Three of her beloved children were now going to suffer the terrible cruelty of NIMH and possibly subjected to awful experiments, like the Rats were.

"Mum!" Timothy arrived on Jeremy's back. Jeremy was trailing strings behind him.

"Did you…?" Timothy began, but his mother shook her head.

"Mom, what are we going to do now? Auntie Shrew's dead; our home's been wrecked and Marty, Theresa and Cynthia have been taken away by NIMH!" He looked positively distraught at this point.

"There's only one thing we can do now, Timmy," Mrs Brisby said, as she got up, wincing. "We have to go to the Rats at Thorn Valley. If your siblings have been taken to NIMH, the Rats are the only ones who can help us rescue them. After all, they came from NIMH; they can help us get there."

"You really think they can help us save them?"

Mrs Brisby smiled. "Of course, they can. They helped me save you from the plough, didn't they?"

Timmy sniffed. "Okay, Mom. We'll go to them, then. I am coming with you, right?"

"Of course; no way am I leaving you behind!"

"Betty, you're hurt," Viola noted.

"That doesn't matter now," Mrs Brisby said firmly. "What matters is that I get to Thorn Valley as soon as I can."

"But… what about Auntie Shrew?" Timmy said.

Mrs Brisby thought about her old friend. Shrew might be fussy and a busybody, but she'd still been a good babysitter and she had helped her when trying to save Timmy.

"There's nothing we can do for her now, Timmy," Mrs Brisby said heavily, a tear in her eye. "We'll leave her to the other field animals to bury her, but we have to get to Thorn Valley ASAP."

"But what about my things?" Timmy asked

"I'm afraid there's no time to repack. Besides, the Rats can provide us with what we need when we get there."

"Okay, Mom."

Mrs Brisby turned to Jeremy. "Can you fly us to Thorn Valley, please?"

Jeremy smiled. "Am I allergic to cats?" he said. Then, he realized what he'd said. "Dragon's not anywhere near here, is he?"

"No, Jeremy," Mrs Brisby said, rolling her eyes, as she climbed onto Jeremy's back behind Timothy. She then turned to Viola. "Viola… you stay here and tell everyone else what happened to Auntie Shrew; tell them she's dead. Make sure she's properly buried."

"Okay, Betty, I will," Viola said, as she got ready to fly off.

"Alright, Jeremy," Timmy said. "Let's get going."

"Oh, and Elizabeth?"

"Yes, Viola?"

"Be careful, won't you? And good luck to you both. I hope you find your children safely."

Mrs Brisby nodded. "Thank you and we will; I promise you that."