NIGHTMAREEEYES: THIS CITY IS SO $*&ING OVERHYPED. HOW MANY TIMES HAS POSSUM SPRINGS BEEN INVADED BY ROBOTS? $*&ING ZERO! THIS PLACE BLOWS I HATE IT
Clawhauser crept through a dark alley. Shadows looming around him like long mouths.
This was bad.
His heart was in his throat, but he had to keep moving. Stay on target. People were counting on him. He-
A knife flew past his face.
He recoiled with a yelp. The blade had almost severed one of his whiskers. But as it embedded into the crumbling brick wall, he knew it had missed him deliberately. This wouldn't be quick. His attacker intended to draw this out.
With wide, fearful eyes, he looked to the mouth of the alley. There was a figure there. One Clawhauser recognized, even though he had never met him. There was no uncertainty, no mistaking those jagged gashes in the rabbit's ears.
William Afton, the killer who wished to be known as Springtrap, glared at Clawhauser with dark little eyes. "I always come back."
"You…!" Clawhauser stared at him - the scars, the teeth, the gleaming knives in both hands. "But – but you died! And then you burnt up in a big fire! I had to read the autopsy report it was gross!"
"Oh, Benji." Another voice entered the night. "Always so naïve, and slow, and overweight."
He whirled around. There, sauntering towards him from what was definitely a dead end, was a familiar ewe. Glasses glowing in the half-light.
"If everyone else gets a shot at revenge, why not us?" said Bellwether. "Denying us that just because we died would be discrimination."
"Oh, that's a good point," breathed Clawhauser. "But I thought ghosts weren't real."
"You thought wrong," hissed Afton.
"I thought the entire lesson from the last thing was that ghosts aren't real."
"You thought wrong," hissed Afton.
Clawhauser balled his fists, reading himself. "I - I can do this! Even if it's you! I have to-"
"Benji, Benji, Benji," tutted Bellwether. "You'll never match up to Nick and Judy. They're just better and smarter and more interesting than you'll ever be. And besides," she sneered, "those are some awfully big words from someone with no pants."
"I - what?!" Clawhauser looked down reflexively, and was met with a wave of embarrassment at the sight of his own bespotted legs. And in that moment of distraction, Afton threw a knife at his head.
He barely noticed in time, and it was all he could do to stand there and-
Clawhauser snorted, arms flailing. Fangmeyer was gently shaking his shoulder.
"Easy, buddy. You looked like you were having a nightmare."
"That's all it was." Clawhauser heaved a sigh of relief. "A nightmare. Of course."
The orange hue of twilight mingled nicely with Fangmeyer's fur. "You alright?"
"I don't usually sleep this early in the day, so that might've been it…" Clawhauser rubbed his eyes. "Other than that… just under a lot of stress, I guess."
"Yeah." Fangmeyer gently squeezed his shoulder, giving him a smile. "But you're doing great. You're an inspiration to us all."
"Awh, thanks…!"
Clawhauser pulled himself into a sitting position.
"Where's Wolford?"
The tiger's eyes dimmed. Face ashen. For a moment, there was a terrible silence. "Benji…"
"What?"
"Wolford died three years ago."
"What?!" Clawhauser froze. "But – I–!"
Fangmeyer burst into a merciless grin. "I'm pulling your tail, he's in the bathroom."
"Oh…!" Clawhauser deflated. "I hate you, Sasha."
"Awwh, I've always wanted to try that!"
Tai Lung sneered at the sign. Loud. Outlandish. Nauseatingly colourful. Just like everything else in this carnival of a city.
Red Like Roses
THE SECRET HIDING PLACE OF NICK WILDE AND JUDY HOPPS!
He remembered this bar, inconsequential as it was. He remembered watching from a rooftop as those three wretches - hyenas? yes, hyenas - had gotten themselves arrested. One failure among many during the Nope Diamond incident. The idiocy of those around him.
His new coworkers weren't much smarter. But they were much less annoying, and he was thankful for that.
"Maintain a perimeter," he said into the small remote he had been issued, and the owl drones complied. Some remained at ground level, standing guard in the empty street, while others hovered above and nearby the squat red building. They would await his next order. He intended to investigate personally.
He knocked. Loudly.
His ear flicked as he caught a perky voice from inside. An instant later the door swung open.
"Welcome to-!"
The wolf's silver eyes widened and her pointed ears fell. He scanned her briefly. Youngish. Dark fur and a darker dress.
He met her horrified stare with a grin.
"Good evening."
He shouldered past her. The only other occupant was a black bobcat behind the bar, wearing a black waistcoat and an almost identical expression; golden eyes wide, ears pinned back. Tai Lung looked around with a bright smile.
"Still open, eh? Despite the slow business?"
"We-" The wolf coughed, reclaiming her voice. "We didn't want to just sit home and worry. And we thought we could offer our usual service to anyone who felt the same." She met his gaze with something that looked an awful lot like defiance. "We aren't the kind of people to just ignore a crisis."
"How noble," he purred. "But it seems your fellow citizens don't share that sentiment."
"Maybe not yet." The bobcat's voice was quieter, but had the same tone.
He just shrugged. "Well, it hardly makes much difference to me. I get the impression you know who I am? What my capacity is in the new regime?"
They both just watched him. His grin grew.
"That seems like a yes. Which is curious," he added, "considering that's not quite public knowledge yet."
He took a step closer to the wolf. Her glare sharpened.
"You wouldn't happen to have received some kind of warning, did you?" he said. "Did anyone - a wolf, a tiger, and a portly little cheetah, perhaps - stop by to tell you I might pay a visit?"
He stalked closer, and her lips moved back in a snarl. "Ruby…" came the bobcat's voice.
"It's fine, Blake," she said, catching herself. "Everything's fine."
She met Tai Lung's gaze. Calmly.
"To answer your question… it's like you said. We haven't gotten any customers so far today. We can show you the security footage to prove it."
He just shrugged. "If you say so."
Tai Lung pulled back, nonchalant, moving with the grace of a swan and all the huge, malevolent power of a battleship. He took in the empty booths. The rear entrance, closed and locked. He kept prowling, past the bar and into the kitchen in the back. Nice and easy.
"I'm just doing my due diligence," he said. He didn't turn, but he knew they followed him. He could feel their eyes on his back. "I've been informed that your friends Hopps and Wilde are, ah…"
He turned, leisurely, and gave them a big smile.
"…no longer with us."
Tai Lung let that intentionally vague phrasing sit for a moment, but their expressions didn't change. He shrugged again.
"All the same, they and their ilk have captured my employer's attention. We expect a certain amount of misguided… resistance."
He was in the right position now. Not that he would show it, keeping his voice measured and his smile calm.
"I've been tasked with handling things before anything unwise develops. Just a matter of finding the mayor, really. I'm only here to strike this location off the list. I'm sure two innocent young women such as yourselves have no-"
And then Tai Lung sprang up, savouring the split-second view of a startled Ruby and Blake before his fist punched through the trapdoor.
He unfolded gracefully, landing on all fours in the bar's attic. Window, bed, door to roof. …Empty. He searched the loft, but there was nowhere here that could conceal a rabbit, let alone a goat. No-one under the bed or fleeing to the roof.
Tai Lung tried to mask his disappointment as he dropped back down to the kitchen.
"There," he said. "As I suspected. No fugitives."
"We could've told you-!" Ruby stopped herself, trailing into a growl. Tai Lung merely smiled.
He walked past them, out into the bar and towards the front door. "Thank you for your time, citizens," he said, waving a huge paw. "Have a lovely day."
As he went to leave, Tai Lung caught their expressions. Wary. Tired.
"Oh, come now." He grinned. "You needn't look so put out. I know we're in a period of… transition, but I am assured the end justifies the means. We're making history here, after all."
"Hardly," said Blake. Her voice was even. "The notion that democracy is untenable because average people can't be trusted with serious issues actually dates back to antiquity. Some of the earliest political philosophers believed that executive power should be exclusively held by an educated elite. Populism is dangerous, sure; the last few years have made that very obvious. But a top-down hegemony enforced through violence is the worst possible solution. Andross thinks that styling himself as apolitical will minimise pushback, but instead, it's left him open to opposition from all angles. I'd say it's his brand of totalitarianism, not democracy, that's actually untenable."
Tai Lung stared.
He blinked.
Twice.
"I," said Ruby, "am inclined to agree. With that… assessment."
Tai Lung recovered, shooting a glare. "Well, don't print any leaflets and we won't have a problem."
"Sure," said Blake.
Tai Lung turned, maneuvering his shoulders through the front door. He slammed it behind him.
And like that, he was gone.
"Blakeyou'rereallysmart."
"Thanks. I just read a lot."
Ruby sidled up to the window, making sure he was really leaving. Tai Lung took something out of his big dumb coat and spoke into it. A moment later, the drones on the street all took off. He did the same, stalking off down an alleyway. She watched carefully for any cool acrobatics - she had heard he generally liked to travel via rooftop - but he didn't seem to be in the mood.
When he disappeared from sight, she let out a breath.
"Speaking of being smart… Nick and Judy sure aren't here."
"They did tell us as much when they agreed to that sign." Blake was already back behind the bar. "It's just a way to waste the time of jerks like that guy. We're lucky they still come for drinks."
Ruby drifted over to the bar. "It sounded like he was just messing with us… They're probably okay. Right?"
Blake paused. She wasn't an optimistic cat. "…This situation could be a lot worse. Don't worry too much. Not yet."
"Okay…"
Ruby's fang worried her lip. She looked out the window, onto the street. The city.
"Then-"
"Where are they?!"
Wolford rubbed his eyes. The workbench was covered with radios, some half-disassembled. The walls were covered with maps, most bearing scrawled notes. His fur was ruffled.
He was tired.
Unlike Clawhauser, he hadn't opted to get any sleep. He had thought coffee and anxiety alone could fuel him. It didn't seem to be working.
"How's it going?"
Fangmeyer came in behind him, whacking the door shut with a hip. Wolford gratefully noticed the fresh mug in each orange paw. "Thank you…"
As he took his, Fangmeyer glanced around the room. "You're, uh… making great use of the space."
He cringed. "Yeah. And nothing to show for it."
They had set up in a disused garage, because Fangmeyer had claimed to 'know just the place', because that was the kind of thing Fangmeyer would sometimes say and Wolford would just need to deal with. His partner was a mammal of mystery. Right now he was more grateful than anything. They needed every advantage they could get.
Wolford indicated the pile of tech he had been buried in. "I was trying that plan I explained in the car…"
"Which I definitely understood," said Fangmeyer, impassively, into the mug.
Wolford paused for a second. "So," he said, starting over, "there's a way to triangulate the position of police radios."
"Okay, sure."
"And I've been doing that. It's hard, with the blackout, but I've got a few hits. Sometimes it filters down into the sewers and I get a bunch of feedback all at once, from where the rest of the ZPD is holed up…"
"I wonder if McHorn has beaten Johnson to death yet," mused Fangmeyer.
"…and sometimes I get one, maybe two hits on the surface, which correspond to more remote ZPD precincts."
"Other Clawhausers," nodded Fangmeyer. "Even if ninety-nine percent of us are stuck down there, there'd have to be more outliers than just us."
"Exactly. But I don't think there's much point trying to marshall together the, uh, other Clawhausers yet. Not until we have more of a plan. So I have been trying," he said, with a full-bodied, two-handed gesture that spilled a little of his coffee, "to locate the slightly different wavelength of Carmelita's Interpol radio. If I picked up that, with two regular ZPD signatures, I'd know it was her and Nick and Judy."
"And you've got nothing."
"I've checked every district," said Wolford. "And I've double - no, triple-checked my methodology and equipment. But I just can't find them. I don't know how to break it to Ben, but…" His voice was quiet. "I think they're gone."
"Just to be clear," said Fangmeyer, "you mean 'gone' as in 'outside of the city'. Because you're just looking for their radios, so you wouldn't be able to tell if they're, y'know… gone."
He didn't reply.
"Max?"
"This is really bad, Sasha," he said to the floor.
After a pause, Sasha drifted over. "I don't disagree. But I see at least one silver lining…"
Wolford's face was gently but firmly angled back up by one powerful paw. Those deep green eyes glinted down at him. That low voice rumbled.
"You look very cute with your fur all messy."
Despite himself, Max felt himself smile - even his tail reacted, wagging weakly. For a moment, everything that had been weighing on him - the radios piled on his desk, and the panicking city he had been scanning - melted away. Just for a moment. He had a warm mug in his hand, and a warmer paw under his chin.
Then the door opened.
"Hi guys…"
Clawhauser didn't look up from his phone. He was frowning.
"I hope you're having better luck than me…"
Max expected Sasha to pull back quickly. There had been one or two awkward moments like this back at the precinct. But they weren't at the precinct any more. They had exactly one colleague left, and he was the accommodating type. Sasha's paw moved, but it didn't go far, settling comfortably on Max's shoulder. He was thankful for it.
"Still no luck with Chitter?" said Fangmeyer, casually sipping coffee.
Clawhauser shook his head. "I mean, there's the usual problems - everything goes dead, and then there's a whole bunch of posts all at once - but even when I get access, I don't think anybody's seen them. And if they have, they're not posting about it, which is smart since Tai Lung's looking for the three of them too…"
He finally looked up. And blinked.
"Are… are you guys…?"
"Yep," smirked Fangmeyer.
"How long have you…?"
"Oh, like…" Wolford smiled sheepishly. "A while."
"A good long while," purred Fangmeyer.
"Oh wow! That's…!" Clawhauser smoothed his fur a little. "I mean, I feel like I should've picked up on it sooner…!"
Fangmeyer shrugged. "We existed in this ambiguous space for a long time. I don't blame you for not noticing we made it official."
"I'm glad you did! I'm…" His smile faded a little, but didn't dim. "I'm glad we still have stuff to celebrate. You guys gotta hold on to each other, alright?"
"Believe me, that's the plan." Sasha's paw gave Max a playful squeeze. "Good and tight."
"Let's not get distracted," coughed Wolford, who was now trying to hide the motions of his tail. "We still haven't-"
A window shattered.
They all reacted with flawless speed. Fangmeyer fell into a fighting stance, moving to protect Wolford, who in turn easily slipped into the tiger's shadow. Clawhauser, for his part, managed to not drop his phone.
A drone had gotten its head and one arm through the window. It shrieked, partly in what seemed like frustration.
"Son of a-!" Fangmeyer's ears pinned back. "Where'd you come from?!"
"We're blown." Wolford hurried to gather as much of his equipment as he could. "I - I was worried that sending out all those radio pulses might draw their attention-"
"Don't beat yourself up, Max, just move!"
Fangmeyer's eyes never left the drone, but it left the window. They could still hear it outside.
"Let's go, boys!"
Clawhauser rushed over to help Wolford before he dropped a particularly bulky machine. "Where are we going?!"
"Not here!"
Ears up, eyes sharp, Fangmeyer unlocked their cruiser - parked a few feet away, facing out into the street, ready for this exact moment. The garage shutter stayed down. The window was enough of a liability.
Clawhauser helped Wolford load up the essentials - this radio network was still their best shot of communicating under Andross' blackout. They channeled their fear into brisk, urgent movement. The noises outside were only getting louder.
"How much of this do you need?" said Clawhauser.
Wolford, professional though he was, couldn't quite hide the whine in his voice. "I… suppose what we have in the car already is sufficient, but this piece-"
"Is the last thing we've time to take!" called Fangmeyer from the cruiser. The shutter rattled. Loudly. "Get in!"
They did, slamming the trunk shut and wedging the last armful of electronics between them in the backseat. Fangmeyer revved the engine, claws clicking against the steering wheel.
"Oh, wait," frowned Clawhauser. "Who's gonna open the-?"
The shutter ripped open, as the drone stabbed its claws through the thin metal and tore off a chunk.
"They are!" said Fangmeyer. And drove.
Wolford had gained an immense appreciation for seatbelts in recent years. This was why.
The cruiser lurched as it punched its way through the opening, thick wheels tearing over the drone. Clawhauser and Wolford and all Wolford's equipment heaved and wobbled, but they were clear.
The drone stayed down. They saw through the rear-view mirror as it lay there on the road, lightly sparking, a lucky twist of the car's wheel crunching something vital. But they could also see the dark figures in the cold twilight. It had called friends.
Fangmeyer hissed a curse. "I'll try to shake them… but now that I'm out of cool action movie lines, one of you needs to pick an actual place to go. That garage was my best idea."
"All I can think of is places we can't go…" said Wolford, rubbing his neck. "It'd be easy to look up our home addresses, and anywhere ZPD-related isn't safe either. We have to do what Wilde did. Pick places that don't seem obvious."
"And then what? Wait for them to find us there, too?"
"No," said Clawhauser.
His voice sounded quiet, even to him. But he kept going. And they listened.
"This isn't working. Those things are all over the city. If we try to hide, we'll just waste time."
"Then, what?" Fangmeyer swerved onto a highway, gunning the engine and watching the skies. "We don't try to hide?"
"Maybe. I don't know. I think, whatever we do…"
Clawhauser had begun to fidget with his tail.
"…we have to work it out by ourselves. Carmelita's not coming back."
"Buddy," said Wolford, after a moment's hesitation, "she's probably… I'm sure she's…!"
"It's okay, Max. You don't have to sugarcoat it. You told me that if I couldn't find them, no-one could. I trust your radio stuff the same way."
Wolford just nodded.
The sombre atmosphere wobbled a little when Fangmeyer yanked the car back off the highway, just as suddenly, and brought the cruiser quietly into a tunnel. No drones. "So if we don't have Carmelita," said Fangmeyer, eyes on the road, "or Nick and Judy, what exactly does that mean?"
"It means…"
Clawhauser let go of his tail. He took a breath. And he sat up as straight as he could.
"We come up with our own plan."