There was an elastic instant of frigid free fall. Nick's eyes streamed in the cold air, he could see the broken window rising away from him, growing smaller and smaller. He hugged Hopps to him and then they hit the angled side of a snowbank that had built up against the side of the Winter Palace.
The breath exploded from Nick's body in a jagged puff of steam, then he was rolling, the world blurring into a sickening array of colors around him. When he finally, mercifully, came to a stop, he could hear voices above him. Rough, frantic ones.
"He jumped!" Exclaimed one.
"Get down there, follow them!" Snarled another. Nick recognized this as Koslov's, contorted with fiery rage. Nick forced himself to his knees but was almost yanked back down by the tug of the cuff against his arm. Hopps was lying limp, eyes glazed and half open, a bead of blood staining her fur where the dart had hit her. She was completely out of it, Nick doubted that she had even noticed their trip out of the window.
Yanking Hopps' limp form closer to him,he gathered the bunny into his arms and tried to stand before falling to one side, the world swooping unpleasantly under his feet.
"We've gotta move bunny," he wheezed desperately, "come on…" Looking around him, Nick saw that he had tumbled into an alleyway, lined with frost rimed dumpsters and stacks of abandoned pallets. The floor of the alley was rutted with snowmobile tracks and Nick could see a few vehicles of varying sizes parked towards the end. He limped toward them, hauling Hopps along, huffing and puffing as he went.
He could hear traffic, Tundra Town's man thoroughfare wound right in front of Koslov's palace, if he could make it there then he could lose himself in the crowds.
Even as he thought that he looked down to the unconscious rabbit in his arms and shook his head. Outside of an epidemic of spontaneous sudden onset blindness there was no way at all that people wouldn't start screaming for the ZPD at the mere sight of him. And even if they all were blind they'd probably still sense his fear.
He'd have to run.
A door slammed open ahead of him and Nick froze, ice flooding his veins. He hadn't even noticed the door, set in between dumpsters, designed for smaller mammals. An Arctic fox was coming out of it, gathering a coat around herself. She stared at Nick, eyes widening, the door swinging slowly shut behind her. She glanced back at it but made no move to flee, she seemed to realize that that avenue of escape was already sealed.
"You're him," she said faintly, eyes flickering down to Hopps, "and that's…" Nick tried to speak but no words came. He glanced behind him, then stared desperately back at the fox. Her fur had gone spiky with fear, she shook her head slowly.
"Is she dead?" She asked after an uncomfortable moment had passed, her paws falling away from her coat. She was holding a pair of keys, perhaps they went to one of the snowmobiles parked in the alleyway. Nick hardly registered her words at first, then shook his head vehemently.
"I need your keys." He said and the fox tossed them over without hesitation, edging past slowly, with the utmost caution. Nick ignored her and struggled up the alley, leaving her to run the rest of the way to safety. A moment later Koslov's enforcers reached the ground floor. Nick heard the front door of the Winter Palace slam open.
He stared down at the keys and then over to the row of snowmobiles. Two of them were clearly designed for bears, another four for mammals smaller than Nick. That left a single jet black snowmobile parked midway down the row. He slung Hopps across it, then clambered on, jamming the key into the ignition.
The engine chugged, protesting the cold and Nick's rough treatment, but roared to life nonetheless. A bear slid around to the mouth of the alleyway, eyes narrowing as he caught sight of Nick.
"He's here! In the alley!" Nick ducked low and stared at the throttle in his paw. He'd never driven a snowmobile before, had never even thought about it, and now that he was aboard on the controls seemed intimidating and complex.
The bear started forward, reaching into his coat for something, Nick pushed the throttle forward and the snowmobile jerked into motion, glancing off the alley wall with a crunch before ricocheting away, bouncing off another machine in the process. Nick yelped, eyes wide with terror, Hopps bouncing against his lap, the bear racing to intercept him.
He gunned the throttle, the engine shrieked and Nick sped from the mouth of the alley, mere inches ahead of the charging bear, who shouted after them as he skidded to a halt, words indecipherable but unmistakable in their rage.
Then Nick was out in the middle of a blur of traffic, cutting ahead of a ferret on a red snowmobile, nearly side swiping a truck with bulky snow tires. Horns blared and he heard the grind of tires against ice as the truck tried to brake. The driver, a yak in an ushanka, gripped the wheel tightly, mouth open in a panicked shout, then his truck hit the back of the car ahead of him with a crunch and both vehicle's airbags deployed.
Nick slipped around the accident, fish tailing for a terrible moment before darting across a lane of opposing traffic and into an alleyway. For a hopeful moment he thought that he was free, then the ice behind him was lit by red and blue lights.
"Stop right there!" A magnified voice echoed up the alleyway. Nick gunned the engine and the snowmobile leapt forward, the front skids leaving the ice for a moment before crashing back down, rattling Nick to the bone. A ZPD interceptor, treaded like a tank, was growling after him, just barely small enough to fit in the alleyway. Dumpsters and trash cans were shoved aside in a chorus of squealing metal, then the interceptor was out and right behind Nick.
Nick swerved to the side, running up onto the icy sidewalk, the treads of his snowmobile grinding against concrete, leaving a bouquet of pale sparks behind him. Pedestrians scattered, leaping out of the way. A pair of rabbits in matching pastel winter coats jumped back against the front of a bakery, staring in horror at Hopps' intent figure as Nick zipped past. Traffic had stalled, snowmobiles and cars alike scooting into other lanes, clearing a path for the ZPD interceptor. Nick could practically feel the heat of its engine on the back of his neck.
His heart was racing, the wind bringing tears to his eyes. How had things gone so wrong? He had known that Koslov likely wouldn't be pleased to see him, and for good reason…yet…he really hadn't expected the bear to try and put him into the ice machine.
Even thinking about that ominous little chamber brought fresh chills over him. Even Hopps had known exactly what it was, such was the ice machine's reputation. It was strange, how part of him felt surprised by Koslov's attempt to kill him, and how another insisted that it had probably been inevitable. Especially considering what the bear's thoughts on foxes had been revealed to be.
"This is your final warning fox," the magnified voice growled from the interceptor, "stop now or else we'll put you down." Nick hunched over the snowmobile's controls and swerved to avoid a newspaper stand. A moment later the stand exploded into a whirl of flying paper and magazines. The interceptor had clipped it, swerving to try and knock Nick off of his vehicle.
But why would they do that? Nick thought, panicked. Why would they try and do something so overtly violent when he still had Hopps on the snowmobile with him? But even as those thoughts swam through the electric sea of panic in his mind, a darker, clearer answer presented itself. He glanced down at Hopps, at how she was draped, unmoving, over the front of his seat. The ZPD, Nick realized, thought that Hopps was dead. And they were coming for revenge.
Up ahead a small sea of pastel shaded umbrellas bloomed into view, a sidewalk cafe, blocking Nick's path. The interceptor backed off of the sidewalk and swerved to avoid hitting a parked car.
Mammals stared at the approaching snowmobile, a few starting to stand up, expressions caught between uncertainty and growing realization and fear. Then Nick ducked under the velvet rope cordoning the cafe off, and smashed a metal chair aside with a bang and a crunch of breaking plastic. The front of the snowmobile was beyond ruined now, the headlights and front grill shattered entirely. The interceptor veered away, forcing a car off of the road, before arcing back towards Nick as he cleared the stunned cafe, heart in his throat and vehicle smoking, but otherwise intact and unharmed.
An officer was leaning out of the front passenger window, Nick realized, a stun-gun in his hooves. He was close enough that Nick could see his eyes behind the pair of reflective sunglasses he wore, and the cold grimace of hatred he wore on his face. He said something, the roar of the interceptor's engines robbing whatever it was of any sort of coherence, then Nick hit the brakes and the interceptor roared ahead of him as he skidded and spun, the stun-gun discharging harmlessly into a wall.
For an awful moment Nick thought that he had lost control entirely. He huddled over the controls, pressing Hopps into the seat so that she wouldn't fly off, and shut his eyes. Then he came to a halt with a crash and a bang that nearly threw him off of the snowmobile.
They'd come to a stop against the front wall of a bar, the rear of the snowmobile having taken the brunt of the damage. He pressed the throttle but the engine merely chugged and died, smoke rising gently from the ruined front end of the vehicle.
"No…no…" Nick muttered, twisting the key in the ignition. The snowmobile sputtered and he heard the engine growl for a moment, then it went dead again. A ram had appeared in the door of the bar, something bulky held in one hoof. He grimaced as he raised it and suddenly Nick could see that it was a stun-gun, a civilian model. This one had a little drawing of a snarling fox on the side, to demonstrate exactly what it was designed to be used against. He twisted the key again but the engine still refused to start. Hopps twitched slightly in her drug induced sleep, the ram took a step closer, eyes wide and face locked into something akin to a rictus of both fear and anticipation.
"You…vermin." The ram hissed, and Nick ducked down as the stun-gun fired with a white flash of electricity. The prongs embedded in the Plexiglass windshield, stopping dead, the plastic around them browning and sizzling. Nick turned the key again and heard more sirens coming, the interceptor approaching once more, accompanied by other vehicles. The ram stepped closer but Nick bared his teeth and the mammal stopped, the look on his face turning entirely to fear.
The engine sputtered to life and Nick forced the battered snowmobile forward, not liking at all how many of the needles in their gauges were beginning to flutter and dip. Siren lights flowered into sight, reflecting from the icicles and snow, turning the world red and blue. There were officers on snowmobiles now, and further behind them Nick caught sight of a polar bear in a suit keeping pace. Koslov's goons were still about, keeping tabs on the whole chase.
He took a corner, nearly colliding with another snowmobile. The ox driving the thing swerved, putting himself directly in front of the ZPD. The interceptor swerved, shaving a few hairs from the hapless ox as it rushed past, before skidding onto the sidewalk and slamming into the front of a department store, shattering the plate-glass windows and scattering the shoppers inside.
The streets narrowed, traffic thinned, Nick could see he was passing homes now, interspaced with more personalized businesses than the big ones on the main drag. The net from a net-gun cracked against the back of his snowmobile and Nick forced the ailing machine to move faster. He could see the officers gaining, their faces grim and hate filled.
"Murderer!" A goat shouted, his voice shrill with fury. Nick ducked a stun-gun shot and swerved away from the ZPD. They were herding him towards the more thinly populated part of Tundra Town, he realized with a hint of alarm. So that they would have more room to maneuver. Nick forced himself to think.
He couldn't keep going like this. The ZPD was too close, too persistent. He needed to do something to negate their superiority in speed and mobility. Just like in the park.
He forced his fingers from the throttle and braked, hard but not enough to spin him out of control again. The treads screeched against ice and concrete, then he was turning, scraping down a narrow alleyway, the legs of his jumpsuit snagging against bumps of ice and other protrusions.
The goat tried to move to follow Nick but was moving too fast, his snowmobile glanced off of the edge of the alleyway and spun away, leaving one of its front skis behind.
He was somewhere residential now, moving alongside a hill that funneled down toward the main road once more. Beyond that was the border between Tundra Town and the Rainforest District. Nick could see more red and blue lights glowing down there, the ZPD coming to set up checkpoints and end the chase once and for all.
There were still ZPD vehicles behind him, growling up the slope, fish tailing on the ice. Even with snow tires the four wheeled ZPD interceptors were having a tough time keeping up with Nick's snowmobile.
Nick glanced down at Hopps, wishing desperately that she was awake. If she was then this whole thing would have been at least somewhat bearable. The ZPD would have been more cautious, he would have been allowed more chances to escape. But instead she was still draped silently over the front of his seat, ears limp and eyes blank.
Even as he thought that a flash of red and blue in the corner of his eye made him veer to the left, just barely avoiding the probing stun baton of a ZPD officer on a snowmobile. He stared over, eyes wide, then the officer was moving over again, trapping Nick between the guardrail and his stun baton.
"Die." The officer snarled, and plunged in, stabbing his baton at Nick. Nick ducked away, the baton just barely tickling his whiskers, then their snowmobiles met and with a hideous squeal of interlocking treads, ground to a halt. The officer was flung away, a surprised look crossing his face before he went tumbling down the street. A moment later Nick's snowmobile met the guard rail with a shower of sparks and he left the machine with a yell, Hopps flying after him, still serenely drowsy even as they spun through the air, over the guard rail, towards a hard and unforgiving ground.
Nick snatched Hopps to him and shut his eyes tightly, tail tucked firmly between his legs. Then he hit the ground and the world dissolved into a shower of stars.
...
For a beautiful moment the air was full of ice crystals, the sun shining through them, turning the sky into a kaleidoscope. Then he hit the ground again and the colors turned once more to stars. They were bouncing down the slope, tumbling head over tail, the sky and earth blurring into a sickening continuum of nonsensical input.
Then suddenly they were over nothing but thin air, falling and falling, Nick's heart in his throat. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to prepare to meet the ground once more.
But instead of cement or ice or snow, Nick felt himself crash down into a yielding mass of something. Hopps bounced away and then suddenly, blessedly, they were still. Nick let himself lay still for a long moment, the world spinning about him, new aches and pains flaring from every corner of his body.
He was lying in a mess of cardboard boxes, Hopps curled next to him, still locked within herself by Koslov's tranquilizer. For a moment he was unsure of what had happened. Then he felt the world bump and thud beneath him and registered the growl of an engine.
They, he realized with a jolt, had fallen into the open bed of a garbage truck. Burrowing into the boxes and bags, dragging Hopps with him, Nick allowed the daylight to become nothing more than a few slivers of white, then shut his eyes and watched it become nothing at all.