A/N: A warning that things get pretty dark (darker?) in this chapter. Take care of yourselves, everyone. Hope you enjoy ^_^
Sixteen
Nick had almost made it to Downtown when the truck's gas light came on.
He ignored it at first. There were no other vehicles around to slow him down and he felt no compunction about ignoring traffic laws under the circumstances; those two things alone helped him save significantly on gas. For a few precious miles he even felt a glimmer of his former confidence that he might make it.
Then he hit the first flood zone.
There were no traffic cones or any other signs to warn him. He took a left turn onto Stampede Street and suddenly water was sloshing up around his tires. It was shallow, no more than a couple inches deep, and Nick thought maybe it was just a very big puddle, perhaps a backed up sewer line or a busted fire hydrant or some other mischief caused by the Order. He pressed onward, now at a snail's pace. In the places where there was direct sunlight the road shimmered, making it difficult to gauge the depth. Nick expected to drive out of it in a block or so.
He didn't.
The water climbed steadily higher up the sides of his truck. He could see small bits of ice floating in it, along with various detritus and rodent-sized vehicles—thankfully all empty of passengers. Soon, the water was high enough to hit the undercarriage. It steamed and hissed; the sound reminded Nick uncomfortably of snakes.
It occurred to him belatedly that this might have something to do with the issues surrounding the Climate Wall. Had the Natural Order been responsible for that too? Regardless, he couldn't continue on this way. Low fuel or not, if he didn't turn back he would soon be in danger of getting swept away with the current, and then he really would be stuck.
So he made his way back and took a detour he hoped would get him around the flooded area. It worked—for a bit. Then he came over a rise and saw the tell-tale rippling of moving water.
He reversed and tried again.
Over and over this happened. Sometimes, there was official signage warning him that a road was closed, but mostly he found out only after he had driven up to it.
And all the while, the fuel gauge continued to dip further into the red.
After more than an hour of this, a warning chime sounded from the dash. Nick only had a pawful of miles remaining before he'd be out of gas entirely.
Nick growled out a curse. He wouldn't make it at this rate. He either needed to risk stopping long enough to fill up, or keep driving until the truck died and hope he was close enough to his destination to make it the rest of the way on foot.
The second option was tempting, but also felt like it might be the greater risk in the long run. Better to stop when he had a choice in the location and a quick getaway at the ready than to continue on and find himself stranded somewhere more dangerous later.
After a couple more miles where he assessed his choices, he decided on a larger gas station a little ways off one of the main streets. It had a big parking lot so he'd have a clear view to see if anyone tried to approach him while he was getting gas. All the other pumps were empty besides for a flashy convertible parked at the far end. The low-sitting vehicle was painted a glossy white with matte black stripes along the sides. The driver's side door was ajar; Nick didn't see any signs of the owner.
He pulled up to a pump, killed the engine, and slipped cautiously out of the vehicle. He hovered there for a minute, ready to dive back inside the truck if anyone pounced. When no one appeared, he figured he was as safe as he was going to get and sidled over to the pump.
That's when Nick realized he had another problem: His wallet was missing.
He searched all his pockets, and then went back and checked the truck on the off chance he'd dropped it in there. No luck. Maybe the Order had taken his wallet while he'd been unconscious, or maybe it had fallen out of his pocket at some point. The how didn't really matter; the end result was the same: without cash or card, he wasn't getting any gas.
Nick smacked his paw against the side of the truck. For skunk's sake! Was it too much to ask for one break?
He looked over at the gas station's main building. It looked untouched, at least from the outside. What were his chances there was still a mammal inside running the checkout counter? Probably as fair as his chances of convincing them to overwrite their system or do whatever they'd have to do in order to get him a free fill-up. He was a police officer, but he wasn't in uniform. He was also more well-known and trusted than most foxes in the city, but he was still a fox. Perhaps the fact that this wasn't a normal situation would work in his favor. Zootopia was under siege. Surely any lingering employees wouldn't be such sticklers for policy? Even if they were, how hard could it be to hustle for a little free gas?
Nick pushed away from the truck. Checking the coast was still clear, he sprinted over to the building and ducked through the automated doors. After so long spent out in the hot desert and then in a sweltering jungle, the crisp gust of A/C felt shocking against his fur.
Nick paused in the doorway, taking in his surroundings. He'd half-expected there to be a crowd of animals hiding out, but there was only one. An impressively large raccoon sat slouched on a stool behind the checkout counter, fiddling with his phone. He glanced up at Nick's entrance, saying in a neutral tone of voice, "Welcome. We've got several new soda products in if you're interested."
Nick shot him the side-eye. Who cared about carbonated drinks right now? Was it some sort of subtle warning? Were there Order members lying in wait over in the refrigerated section? Nick glanced towards it, but a rack of shelving blocked his view.
He made his way over cautiously and poked his head around.
The space was empty.
The raccoon had already gone back to messing with his phone. Was he trying to call for help?
Nick approached the counter. Clearing his throat, he asked as casually as he could, "Is there anyone else in here? Maybe someone in the back?"
"In the back? What?" That masked face scrutinized him. "If you're looking for Albert, he's out at lunch. Taking his sweet time, too. It's just me here right now."
Nick raised a meaningful eyebrow. "So there's no one… else in here right now?"
"Just you and me, bub."
So they were safe. For now. Nick breathed a small sigh of relief.
"So are you gonna buy something or what?"
Nick had to give the raccoon credit. He was committed to his job and seemingly unflappable in the face of impending anarchy. Or maybe he just really needed the paycheck.
"Yeah, about that… I need some gas." Nick pointed to the old truck outside. "But I've lost my wallet you see and—"
The raccoon held up his paw in a stop right there gesture. "Sorry, pal. This isn't some charity gas station, ok? Call a friend to bring you some money if you're short."
"The phone's aren't working," Nick pointed out.
"Yours too?" The raccoon gave his phone a disgusted look before setting it aside. "Well that solves one mystery. I thought the service in here was extra spotty today."
"Look…" Nick flicked a glance down at the nametag pinned to the raccoon's work vest. "Jerry, is it? I don't think you're grasping the seriousness of the situation here. Even if the phone's did work, do you really expect someone to drive over just to give me gas money with everything that's happening?"
"Hey, it's not my business what's going on in your personal life," said Jerry.
"I'm taking about what's happening in Zootopia."
"You mean the flooding? Last I heard they said everything east of Paddock Circle should be okay."
"I don't mean the flooding."
"Then what? Was there a bad traffic accident or something?" The raccoon craned his neck to look out the window. "Seems pretty clear to me."
Nick stared at him in disbelief. Was it possible he didn't know?
"Do you have a radio around here?"
"You want to buy a radio?"
"No, I want—" Nick realized his tone was bordering on a growl and checked himself. In a calmer voice he said, "Something bad is happening in the city right now. If you listen to the news, there might be an announcement about it."
"I get all that on my phone," said the raccoon.
And right now phone's were useless. Of course.
"Then I'll just tell you," said Nick. "Long story short, some very dangerous animals from the Wildlands have entered the city and are wreaking havoc everywhere."
"'Wreaking havoc'?"
"Mammals are dying," Nick said bluntly. "They're starting fires and raiding stores. It's dangerous to go out but you're probably not safe here. You should find somewhere more low-key to hide until these animals are stopped. But first I need you to let me fill my truck up so I can… go help."
Jerry's eyes had gone comically wide behind his furry mask. "Whoa. This is crazy."
"You understand now, right?" said Nick.
The raccoon nodded.
"Great. So if you could just—"
"I've never been held up before," said Jerry.
Wait, what?
"And by a fox too." The raccoon gave Nick a look filled with judgement. "Way to play into the stereotype, dude."
"I'm not—"
"You could at least come up with a better story. I mean, dangerous animals from the Wildlands? That's way too over the top to be believable." He chuckled. "Wait until I tell Albert."
Nick smacked his paws against the counter. "Albert's not coming back! Don't you get it? Either he heard about what was happening and had the good sense to run, or someone got to him and he's dead. You're just lucky no one's thought to hit up this place yet."
The raccoon's expression went flat at Nick's dire prediction for Albert. He reached for his phone. "Ok, I'm over this now. You need to get out before I call the police."
Through clenched teeth Nick said, "There's no phone service, remember?"
"Oh, right."
"And I am the police." Nick pushed up the ball cap so the raccoon could get a good better at his face. "The name's Nicholas Wilde. You've heard of me, right? First fox officer in Zootopia. I've helped solved nearly every major case the ZPD has had in the past two years with my partner Judy Hopps. You know her, I'm sure. First bunny officer and recently also became my mate. Any of this ringing a bell? We've been interviewed by nearly every major news outlet and gossip column out there."
The raccoon shrugged. "Eh. I don't really keep on top of stuff like that."
Nick closed his eyes and counted to ten.
"You might be who you say you are. But I don't see a badge. And I find it highly suspicious that I can't confirm any of these claims you're making about killers from the Wildland running around," added Jerry.
"Confirmation could kill you," said Nick. "What about the phones? The internet? Your missing coworker? It's after noon. The roads should be clogged with mammals out at lunch, but do you see anyone out there? No, you don't. Because they're all hiding. Like you should be."
"I don't know…"
"Answer this question then: what happened to the zebra?"
The raccoon blinked. "What zebra?"
Nick pointed out the window. "I assume it was a zebra. The mammal whose vehicle is sitting out there by the pump."
"Oh, that zebra." The raccoon leaned back on his stool. "I saw Miss Fancy Stripes pull up. And then… I don't know, something must've caught her eye down the street because she wandered over that way. Hasn't come back yet."
"And how long ago was that?"
"Mmm... maybe a hour or two?"
"And that doesn't seem odd to you? Some rich mammal just parked her car at gas station and left without even shutting the door?"
"Maybe a little. I don't know if I'd call it proof though."
"It's all the proof you want to get, trust me," said Nick. "So please, give me some gas, and then go hide like a smart mammal until you hear otherwise."
"And what if you're lying to me?"
"Then you live, and you can tell Albert all about how you got scammed into believing the world was ending for a free tank of gas."
"Bit dramatic," said Jerry, but he finally—finally!—turned to the register. "How much gas did you want exactly?"
"Preferably enough to fill up the tank."
"And how big's your tank?"
Nick gave him a level look. "Make your best guess."
One of the raccoon's eyebrows went up. "You don't know?"
"Look—"
Behind him, the gas station's automatic doors rattled open.
Let it be a civilian, Nick prayed. Please let it be a civilian.
It wasn't a civilian.
It was the Jackal.
He spotted Nick and those mean little eyes lit up in delight. "A little birdie told me they saw you come in here. I thought for sure they were making a poor joke at my expense." He laughed and held up his paws. "I almost feel bad about killing them now. Ah, well. Hindsight's a beast, as they say."
Nick stared at him. The Jackal couldn't be here. He should be behind bars down at the station awaiting trial. There's no way any judge would have approved bail, so how?
The Jackal grinned at Nick's stunned silence. "Hello again, funny fox."
Three more animals entered to flank him. It was the same trio that had been with him before. The moose, hippo, and bear were still wearing the tan jumpsuits of inmates. Only the Jackal has found a change of clothes. It was another suit. This one had a more modern cut with none of the fine tailoring; it was too broad in the shoulders and too wide around the waist. Flecks of blood stained one of the cuffs and there was a tear along the left shoulder seam, making Nick suspect the Jackal hadn't just snatched the outfit off a clothing rack somewhere.
"Do you know these mammals?" asked Jerry, and Nick jumped. He had forgotten about the raccoon entirely.
The question pulled Nick out of his shock. Leaning over the counter, he urgently asked, "Is there another exit out of here?"
"Uh, there's one in the break room," said Jerry. "Why?"
"Because you're going out it. Right now."
"I thought you wanted gas? Now you want me to leave the store?"
"Yes."
"Oh, I see. Now that your pack's here, you think you can get away with more, huh?"
"They're not my—" Nick snapped his mouth shut. He was hyper aware of the Jackal at his back, listening to their every word.
This conversation was getting them nowhere. He needed to take a different tack. Pointing a thumb back at the group, Nick asked, "Do you see what they're wearing? Not the swanky tool in front, but the others?"
Jerry looked them over, and Nick saw the moment when he recognized the prison garb. His eyes grew huge. He gave a jerky nod.
"Still want to hang around and argue with me?" Nick asked him.
The raccoon shook his head.
"Then go."
Jerry snatched up his phone and was off his stool in one fluid movement.
From behind them the Jackal said, "Sending your friend away without introducing us, funny fox? You Zootopians sure have a strange idea about how manners work."
Jerry, curse him, half-turned back as if genuinely concerned he might be being rude.
"Go!" Nick ordered, putting a snarl into the word, and the raccoon scurried off through a door marked Employees Only.
The Jackal turned to the hippo. "If you would be so kind as to retrieve our new friend before he leaves?"
"Leave him alone," said Nick.
The Jackal smirked. "You're free to try and make me."
The hippo rounded the checkout counter. Nick leapt over it, grabbed the barstool, and swung it at the hippo. But the stool was heavier than it looked and Nick fumbled it as his muscles protested the lift. Instead of striking the hippo's back like he'd intended, the swing went low, cracking into the back of the animal's knees instead. However, that turned out to be fortunate because the hit cause the hippo's leg's to buckle and he overbalanced into a rack of snacks, taking it all with him to the floor. Metal clanged and chip bags popped like firecrackers beneath the hippo's bulk, releasing the scents of powdered seasoning into the air.
Distantly, Nick heard the slam of a door.
The bear suddenly appeared like giant from over the counter. With one huge, furry paw he ripped the barstool from Nick's grasp and with the other he grabbed Nick by the front of his jacket, hauling him up and then slamming him down against the dirty laminate floor, knocking the air from Nick's lungs and pinning him like an insect to a cork board. Nick could do little more than lay there and wheeze as the bear bent over him until his muzzle was a hairsbreadth from Nick's face. That giant maw opened, revealing fangs as long as Nick's forearm, and Nick had the gruesome thought that if the bear bit down now he'd pop his head like a grape.
"Stop."
Those fearsome jaws snapped shut an inch from Nick's nose.
The Jackal sauntered over into Nick's eye line and crouched down beside him. He shook his head at Nick pityingly. "Still making foolish choices, I see."
"Weird," croaked Nick. "I was going to say the same thing about you. You know engaging in a jailbreak before you're tried will add a significant amount of time to your sentence."
"Funny fox, we are our own judges and juries now. If you want me punished, you're going to have to find a way to do it yourself."
Nick forced himself to relax against the bear's smothering hold. In the most insouciant tone he could muster he said, "Eh, maybe later. I'm pretty comfortable where I am right now. You know, you could make a killing as a weighted blanket," he told the bear. "They're all the rage in Zootopia right now."
The bear curled his lip at him, giving him another peek at those deadly fangs.
"Or maybe a dentist," said Nick. "Laws might be for lemmings but oral hygiene is still a must, am I right? How do you keep your teeth so white out in the Wildlands? You got some sort of secret, all-natural toothpaste that you use or—"
The Jackal grabbed him by the muzzle. "Funny fox, you're just embarrassing yourself now."
The hippo had finally managed to untangle himself from the chip rack with the moose's help. The Jackal sent him a disgusted look. "Though not as badly as some."
He released Nick and stood, cocking his head to the side as he pondered. "What should I do with you then? I wasn't expecting this opportunity to come quite so soon."
"How about we all take a nice, relaxing walk back to the station?" Nick suggested with exaggerated sweetness. "You can introduce me to all the new friends you made there and show off your macaroni art from crafts day."
The pointed suggestion only made the Jackal laugh. "Aw, funny fox, were you hoping to rejoin your fellows at that joke of an institution?" He gave Nick a pitying look, though delight sparkled in his eyes. "I hate to be the one to tell you this, but there's no one waiting for you there. The Natural Order destroyed it. The ZPD has been cast to the winds."
It suddenly felt as if the bear were pressing down on Nick with all of his weight. He couldn't breath. "You're lying."
"How do you think we got out? We're just cleaning up the stragglers now." The Jackal snapped his claws at the moose. "Show him what we've got so far."
The moose reached into the pockets of his prison jumpsuit and pulled out a pawful of badges. They spilled out onto the floor, the clatter of each one a stab to Nick's heart.
"Not that we need them for anything, but it makes the game more interesting if there are collectibles, doesn't it?" said the Jackal.
The badges didn't have names on them. They could have belonged to anyone. Somehow that only made the pain of the loss worse. As if by not knowing who specifically to mourn, the grief spread to encompass every possible officer.
Was Judy one of them? Nick desperately wanted to know. But self-preservation stopped him. The Jackal would lie regardless. He'd give whatever answer he felt would hurt Nick the most. Nick already felt like he was being held together by a thread spun entirely from the possibility of seeing Judy again. Lie or truth—the wrong answer could snap it.
"Let me up," he told the Jackal.
"And why would I do that? I still owe you for ruining my plans before. Didn't I say? You need to have something to back up that mouth of yours, or be prepared to face the consequences."
"You're the one who's going to be facing the consequences if you don't release me," said Nick. "I'm kind of a big deal to the Natural Order now. Or did your little birdie not tell you that before you killed them?"
It was a shot in the dark. There was a decent chance the Jackal didn't know. But then Nick saw the bear, moose, and hippo exchange looks over their leader's head, and relaxed. Whoever that poor, stupid messenger had been had told them enough.
"You over-exaggerate your significance," said the Jackal, which was as much of an admission as Nick knew he would get from him.
"Think so? I got my commands from the big snake himself. But then, you've been a bit… out of the loop these past few days, haven't you? Not surprised you haven't heard." Nick shot him the most condescending look he could manage while being held prostrate. "Or maybe you're just not important enough for anyone to bother sending you a heads up."
The blow that came was expected. Nick turned with the hit, narrowly avoiding a broken nose. It glanced off his cheek instead, snapping his head sideways and popping something in his neck.
"You don't think I'll kill you?" whispered the Jackal. "What that snake doesn't know won't hurt me."
See, this was why Silos was short-sighted when it came down do it, thought Nick. Because when the loyalty of your followers was built up entirely on fear and might, the moment you weren't around to enforce it they turned on you. It made implementing any kind of lasting system near to impossible.
Plus, it made it so much harder for honest foxes like himself to bluff their way out of messes, which was just annoying.
"You think you're the only one the little birdies are flying to?" said Nick. "The Natural Order is prowling all over this city. You're that sure not a single other member saw you follow me in here and won't report it to Silos?" He tried to whistle, but he couldn't get enough air to manage it. "That's some confidence you have there. At least I'll die impressed."
The Jackal growled, a furious, sub-vocal rumbling that promised Nick a slow and painful death. If it had been just the two of them, Nick might have felt more scared. But the Jackal's henchmammals were there too, and whatever else their skills, their poker faces needed work. Which was how Nick knew even before the Jackal made a curt gesture to the bear that he was going to let Nick go.
Nick clambered to his feet, brushing off the invisible grime of gas station foot traffic. The Jackal watched him coldly. "Silos may have given you a task, but you are not one of us."
"Your distrust breaks my heart. Really," said Nick. "Just answer one question for me honestly, if you can stomach it. Was Robin Swift with you at the police station?"
"Why? Worried we killed the friend you betrayed? You really are a funny fox."
Nick refused to rise to the bait. He waited, trying to ignore the moose beside him who was scooping up the badges he had dropped and was stuffing them back into his pockets. Nick itched to snatch the badges away; a useless gesture that would serve no purpose except to give the Jackal more ammunition against him. He fisted his paws behind his back and focused on the Jackal, who was watching him with a considering expression.
Finally, he answered. "You friend was released that morning. He was long gone before the Natural Order arrived."
He could be lying, but the statement rang true to Nick.
Nick took a deep breath. Ok. Ok then. That changed some things.
He was already halfway out the door when the Jackal called after him. "Don't run too far, funny fox. Remember that we have things to settle between us after all this is done."
Nick stopped. He turned back. His voice was colder than the mountains of Tundratown as he said, "Who's running? Once I've done what I need to, I promise, I'll be back to deliver your punishment myself, just like you want."
The Jackal's grin was vicious and eager. "I look forward to it."
It was only after Nick had exited the gas station that he realized he still needed gas.
Instead of heading for the truck, he made for the striped sports car instead. The key fob was in the cupholder. When he started up the vehicle he saw there was a little over a quarter of a tank left. Not great, but better than going on foot or taking the time to look for another car to steal.
As he pulled up to the street corner, he hesitated. To get to the police station he needed to turn right. Nick didn't want to believe what the Jackal had said was true, but the jackal himself was compelling evidence, and if Nick took the risk and the mangy cur was being honest, Nick wouldn't only be wasting his time, but possibly risking his life as well.
All those badges…
Nick went left.
Miraculously, he made it to Robin's neck of the woods without having to take any more detours. He pulled over to an empty spot near the curb and got out.
For a moment he stood there on the grass, feeling the sun on his face and listening to the rustle of leaves. The forest looked just like it had the last time he had visited. There were even a couple small white butterflies fluttering above a patch of weedy looking wildflowers. Nick was beyond being soothed by the peacefulness of the place, but he did manage to dredge up a weak sort of relief that at least it remained untouched, if only because Judy loved it and it would break her heart to see it destroyed.
He could still picture the joy on her face the first time they had found this little bit wilderness in the middle of the city, so similar to her childhood home in Bunny Burrow. They had come to find Robin, and she had been so certain they had the right location, unlike Nick. When he'd continued to voice his doubts, she had suggested that he go back to the police station while she went on alone. Nick, still recovering from the previous nights' abduction scare, had said to her with an embarrassing amount of vehemence, "Forget it. I'm not leaving you."
The way her gaze had softened then... Before she had pretended nonchalance—for his sake, the Great Turtle take his worthless hide. Even as a thoughtless reaction, or maybe because of it, his words had meant something to her.
The butterflies and flowers before him blurred. Nick cursed and rubbed at the sudden burn in his eyes.
His words had been a lie.
He might not have left her then, but he'd fled like a coward later, physically and emotionally. And even now, after claiming to have become wiser, Nick found himself standing here alone while the city fell to madness around him, with no idea of where his mate was or how she was. What could be a stronger indictment of his failures than that?
He was so lost in his self-recriminations that he almost didn't hear the twittering whistle coming from the trees.
Nick snapped his head up, muscles tensing, and spotted a figure in a green hoodie lean out from behind the trunk of a gnarled oak and gesture to him. The hood was pulled up, casting the mammal's face in shadow, but Nick would recognize that irritating grin anywhere.
Robin had made it home after all.
Nick loped over, watching Robin watch his back as he came. When Nick drew close enough, the fox caught him by the arm and pulled him deeper into the cover of the forest.
He shoved the hood back, taking Nick in. He looked delighted if a bit poleaxed to find Nick standing on his front lawn. "Well I declare! Nick Wilde. Returned by his own two feet. I don't know why I still continue to be surprised."
Nick nodded in wary greeting. "Robin."
"How did you get here? We thought for sure you had been snatched by the Natural Order."
"I was. They took me to some ruins in the jungle, farther out in the Wildlands. That's where I've been."
Robin nodded thoughtfully. "We suspected that might be the case. That jungle was the next place we were prepared to search before all… this… happened and things started spiraling." He gave Nick a serious look. "I hope you know we weren't about to give up on you. None of us were."
Did the fox have to be so rat-bitingly sincere? Nick gave another awkward nod. "Thanks. But honestly, I'm glad you didn't get a chance to go there. Things might have gone worse if you had."
"Was it really bad there?"
"It sure wasn't summer camp for the Junior Ranger Scouts."
"Ah, of course. That was a dumb question for me to ask. I'm sorry."
Robin took a deep breath. His expression folded into something carefully neutral, but Nick still saw the hope that lingered in his eyes. "This might be a dumb question too, but I have to ask. Although... I think I already know the answer to it since you're here alone. But by any chance was Craven... out there too?"
Nick hesitated. It wasn't that the question was unexpected. In truth, he had been going over exactly how he would answer since the moment he had left Craven behind. But knowing what he needed to say and actually saying it were two very different things, one being infinitely harder than the other, and it took everything Nick had to hold Robin's gaze as he answered. "I'm sorry. They kept me separated from everyone. If he was there I didn't see him."
Robin's expression didn't change but the hope in his eyes guttered. Inwardly, Nick cringed with guilt.
"I'm sorry," he said again. It was a wholly inadequate response. Robin gave Nick a brittle smile as he waved away his apology, an act of clemency Nick didn't deserve the slightest.
"I knew it was a long shot but I had to ask. At least we can still be hopeful that he's out there somewhere doing okay."
"I'm sure he is," said Nick. The reassurance sat bitter on his tongue. He suspected poison would have tasted sweeter.
Thankfully, Robin rallied quickly. He looked Nick over with renewed focus. "So, are you going to explain how you got away?"
Nick had prepared for this question as well.
"I managed to break out of the room the Order was keeping me in after they all left for Zootopia. I followed their trail back, but I've been having trouble finding anyone since returning."
"And by 'anyone' of course you mean 'Judy'."
"I don't suppose you know where she is?"
"Sorry, my friend. She sent us a warning about the Order attacking the city before communications went down. We haven't heard a word since."
It was Nick's turn to deflate. Robin gave him a sympathetic pat on the back. "Have faith. You'll find her. In the meantime, forgive me for saying so, but you look dead on your feet, my friend. Judy might not be here, but it is a safe place you can stay and rest while you figure out what you want to do. In fact, I insist on it."
Nick gave him a wane smile. "I have to say, I wasn't sure what kind of greeting I would get after what I did to you at Ortu's place. You're a more forgiving sort than I thought."
Robin pointed a claw at him. "Oh, I definitely still owe you for that little stunt. But until we find Craven I'm reserving judgement on what sort of punishment you deserve. Besides, right now we have more immediate things to worry about. And I think we could both use each other's help right now."
Which was all infinitely fair and logical reasoning. Nick still thought he would have preferred being shunned.
He followed Robin through the woods to the ancient tower house he called home. Four heads swiveled in their direction as they entered. Marian was on the couch with Todd. It looked like the kit had been crying. They both looked over, startled. Vixie froze mid-pace across the room, her paw going to what looked like a real crossbow strapped to her back. Reynard, who was nearest the door, raised a single eyebrow at Nick and said, "Whoa."
"Whoa, indeed," said Robin. He gave the younger fox a light shove towards the kitchen. "While you're recovering from your shock, please see if you can't find something for our friend here to eat. I've a suspicion he might be a tad peckish."
No sooner had Reynard gone than Marian appeared in her brother's place. She threw her arms around Nick's neck and yanked him down into a teary hug. "Thank the Great Turtle you're okay! We were so worried about you. What happened? We feared…" But she let the words trail off as she pulled back. Her paws fluttered over his arms, chest, and throat. "Are you hurt anywhere? Do you need anything? Oh! Here, come sit." She grabbed his paw and tugged him over to the kitchen table.
"Really, I'm fine," said Nick, warding off her attempts to check him over more thoroughly after she'd maneuvered him into a chair.
Reynard set a plate stacked with sandwiches in front of him and Nick's stomach rumbled, suddenly ravenous at the smell of processed bread, of all things. Nick didn't even check to see what they were filled with before stuffing half of one into his mouth. It turned out to be peanut butter and jelly. He would swear he'd never tasted anything more delicious.
A glass of water was set down beside him. Nick shoveled the other half of sandwich into his mouth then picked up the glass, draining it in five big gulps. Reynard's eyebrow did that thing again, but he collected the glass and refilled it without comment.
Nick ate two more sandwiches in quick succession. Marian watched him with her brow furrowed. "Didn't those awful animals feed you anything?" she asked him, her voice hot with indignation on his behalf, and Nick had a half-second to feel touched by her concern before the question triggered a memory of what they had fed him. The memory surged up, swifter that he could block it. Instantly, instead of bread he could smell the rich scent of the stew, and instead of peanut butter and jelly he could taste the gaminess of meat on his tongue.
Nausea sent his stomach lurching, sudden and violent. Nick was barely aware of leaving his seat. He made a half-dash for the hallway, realized he didn't have time to find the bathroom, and instead bolted out the front door, ignoring the voices calling after him.
And that was how, for the second time in a pawful of days, he found himself on his paws and knees outside, vomiting into some bushes.
By the time he was done, his headache had returned and he felt twice as awful as he had five minutes ago. His hat lay in the grass beside him, thankfully unsullied, and he grabbed it and jammed it back on his head, ridiculously grateful for that little bit of concealment.
From behind him he heard Robin say, "I should thank you. I was feeling the exact same way about those rose bushes but the wedding landscaper insisted on having them. You've done me a favor by making my point for me. Although, maybe a bit too literally."
Nick sent a baleful glare over his shoulder at the fox, who had followed him out but stopped a short distance back, giving him space.
"You should be more disgusted with yourself for having a 'wedding landscaper' in the first place," Nick told him.
Robin chuckled. "You may be right about that. I hired them to help take some of the pressure off of Marian, but I think I only made things worse." He glanced over at the porch where Marian and Reynard were watching from the doorway. In a quieter voice, he said to Nick, "I'll tell you, I have the sneaking suspicion that Marian secretly hates all this wedding planning business."
"And how long did it take you to figure that out?"
"Not before writing the first check to I Do, Scenery and Lawn unfortunately."
Nick's stomach roiled threateningly. He took a deep breath, focusing on the smell of roses and grass. "You know what your problem is?" he said.
Robin's voice was dry. "No, but I know you'll enjoy telling me."
"You're too busy trying to give Marian everything you think she deserves instead of what she actually wants."
"Is that so."
"It's a common rookie mistake to make as a mate. Don't worry, you'll learn."
"As you did?" Robin guessed.
Nick tugged the brim of his hat lower over his eyes. "I… might still be learning," he admitted.
"I fear that may be true for both of us for years to come."
Nick had never heard a fear voiced with so much contentment before.
"Feeling any better?"
So his reprieve from questions was over. Nick grudgingly let his mind drift away from the topic of Robin and his foolish wedding plans. The Memory was still there, lurking in the back of his mind. But it had retreated far enough that he could acknowledge its presence without feeling overwhelmed by it. As long as he stayed vigilant, it shouldn't be able to take him by surprise again.
"I'm fine," said Nick.
"You realize that's the third time you've said that since you've gotten here. I'm starting to wonder if I should believe you."
"Don't be a mother hen about this, Swift. I'm fi—"
"Fine, yes. So you keep repeating, ad nauseam."
Nick groaned. "Please don't say nauseam."
He got to his feet, caught off guard when the ground swayed beneath him. Robin was suddenly there, a firm grip under his elbow.
"Are you really not going to tell me why you're like this?"
"Well, my mother says I was born with a special kind of character…"
Robin gave a put-upon sigh. "All right. I'll leave it to Judy to sort out your stubbornness then. Think you're safe to come back inside or would you prefer to tarry with the roses for a while longer?"
Nick assured him that he was good. They returned to the others on the porch. Marian was wringing her paws together as they all filed back inside. "Are you all right? Are you sick? Do you feel feverish? They didn't poison you with anything, did they?"
"I just ate too fast," said Nick. "Sorry I scared you."
Her relief was palpable. "As long as you're okay that's all that matters. Don't worry, there's plenty to eat whenever you'd like to… try again."
She said it so kindly. As if failing to eat food like a proper adult mammal without making yourself sick was an understandable thing.
Nick mumbled a thank you, gravitating towards the couch without much conscious thought. He felt like the truck he had abandoned: depleted of all energy, runnning on fumes.
He collapsed back onto the couch's worn cushions. As he did so, he became aware of Vixie and Todd over by the window, watching him with grave kit eyes that made him suspect they had seen his little upset outside. Great. He felt like he should say something reassuring, but right now he was having trouble reassuring himself convincingly.
If you can't reassure, distract.
Nick pointed at the crossbow strapped to Vixie's back. "Is that what I think it is?"
The kit puffed out her chest in pride. "My brother says I'm old enough to have it now."
The brother in question cleared his throat pointedly. She heaved a dramatic sigh but recited dutifully, "I must be very careful with it. I must do proper mainten... maintenast... uh, keep it working and clean. I must never let anyone else use it—especially strangers, other kits, or Todd." At this, Todd stuck his tongue out at her. She stuck out her tongue back at him before continuing, "Ferther-more, I must only use it in extreme emergencies, and only if I can't run, hide, or... or, um... Oh! Or otherwise defend myself." She beamed at him.
Nick raised a questioning eyebrow at Robin. He sighed. "I know, I know. But she's a crack shot and I trust her to be responsible with it. With everything that's happening right now I'd rather she have it than not, just in case."
"Well I don't like it," said Marian, coming to stand next to Robin with her paws crossed over her chest. "Kits shouldn't be in a position where they need to use a weapon. Ever."
"I will do my best to make sure it doesn't comes to that, my darling," said Robin.
"No reason to worry while we're hiding out here in the middle of nowhere," said Reynard with more than a trace of bitterness.
"It's just for the moment," said Robin in a tone of forced patience that made Nick think they'd had this argument at least once already before he'd arrived. "Once the others get here we can assess our options and go from there."
"We don't even know where they are," said Reynard. "It might take them hours to get back, if they even make it."
"They'll make it."
"And what if it's too late by then? Every minute we wait something could be happening to Craven. Those Natural Order curs are in the city right now. You could at least let me go out and—"
"Absolutely not." To Nick's surprise, the vehement reply came from Marian. She shot a warning look at her younger sibling, looking as furious as Nick had ever seen her. "Don't you even think about leaving this house right now. We stay together. No one goes off on their own, do you hear me?"
Like Craven. The words hung in the air between them as they stared each other down.
It was Reynard who looked away first. His acquiescence might have been because of Marian's unexpected ferocity, but Nick thought it had more to do with the tears building in her eyes.
"Your crew's out walking around in this?" Nick asked Robin, mostly to fill the awkward silence.
"Little John and Will went to pick up Scarlet. We're expecting them back any time now."
Marian brought Nick a fresh glass of water which he gratefully sipped at. She took a seat next to him on the couch and Todd came over and cuddled up on her lap. She started flipping through tv channels. "Just in case the news manages to get a message out," she explained.
Vixie took up point by the front door like some kind of miniature guard, trying out different poses with her crossbow. Reynard retreated to a chair in the corner, ostensibly to give himself space to brood. Robin flitted in and out. He'd disappear outside or upstairs, returning every now and then to check on them before disappearing again. For all Robin's insistence about waiting for the others, Nick thought Reynard wasn't the only one having trouble staying put.
Nick sipped his water and did his best to tune them all out. He needed to figure out his next move. He'd found Robin and the Corsacs—and if they made it, Robin's team—but there was still the problem of where to go from here. If only Judy were with here to help him. He was doing his best to make the right decisions, but so much weighed on every choice. He needed her cleverness and wisdom. If anyone could see a way through this nightmare he felt trapped in, it was Judy.
The constant channel flipping was making him dizzy. Nick closed his eyes to block it out, but instead of that helping him focus on his thoughts he instead found himself noticing the softness of the couch, the sounds of Todd's tiny snores where he napped against Marian and the clicks and thunks as Vixie fiddled with her crossbow. There was a clock ticking somewhere, a hollow tok-tok-tok that you only heard in really old mechanical pieces. Even Robin's restless footsteps were rhythmic in their constant approach and retreat, approach and retreat...
Nick didn't purposely doze, but when he next opened his eyes the beam of sunlight through the front window was coming in at sharper slant. Reynard had given up on brooding for a book. Marian was in the kitchen with Todd and Vixie, overseeing either a late lunch or an early dinner, Nick wasn't sure.
"Did you have a nice rest?" she asked him when she saw he was awake.
"How long was I out?"
"Not long. A couple hours. There's a free bedroom down the hall if you'd like to lie down somewhere more comfortable."
Nick didn't have time to lie down. He had to make a plan ASAP and it had to be the right plan or he'd fail and then Silos would win and then everything and everyone he cared about would be destroyed. No pressure.
"I'm fine," he told her.
Footsteps, light and fast, suddenly came from down the hall. Robin appeared, looking alarmed. His gaze whipped over everyone as he said, "What's wrong? Who's crying?"
This was met with confused looks from everyone.
"No one's crying," said Marian.
"I swore I heard…" He tipped his head, ear swiveling as he struggled to recapture the sound. The others also cocked their heads, trying to hear, even Vixie and Todd.
After a few silent seconds, Nick heard it too. A faint, high-pitched sobbing. "It's coming from outside." And it was growing louder.
By the time Robin had crossed the room and thrown open the door, the crying had reached the porch. Little John, Will, and Scarlet stood there. Finnick was at their side, and in his paws was a shrew who was crying her eyes out.
"Fru Fru?" exclaimed Marian.
The little mammal looked up, blinking away tears. At the sight of the fox she wailed, "Marian!" and held out her tiny little paws. Finnick held her up, and Marian ran over and scooped up the shrew, hugging her close. "Fru Fru, my dear, what's wrong? Where have you been? How—"
"Oh, Marian, it's awful! I don't know what to do! What do I do? She's dead! Judy's dead!"
Everyone in the room just… stopped. As if time had frozen them. Everyone except for the crying shrew, and Nick, who rose from the couch with the slowness of one who wasn't sure they'd be able to stand. He felt as if someone had cut him open, torn out every nerve and muscle and ligament, and stuffed him with cotton, leaving him feeling too light, numb, and smothered. It clogged up his ears, making everything sound muffled, even the silence. It pressed in around his heart and lungs and made his voice come out a hoarse croak. "What did you say?"
The sight of him startled Fru Fru out of her hysterics. Her sobs hitched on a gasp and she covered her mouth, tears running from her eyes unchecked as she stared at him in horror, shaking her head. But she didn't—couldn't?—answer him. She just kept shaking her head as she silently cried.
"Someone, for the love of—" Nick looked to the others crowding the entryway. "Explain."
Will took a few stiff steps forward and cleared his throat. When he spoke, it was in the crisp, flat tone of a lawyer imparting bad news to his client. "Little John and I had gone to the bar to get Scarlet. Judy was there with Fru Fru and—" He glanced over at the small fox. "Finnick, was it? We were leaving the building together when a cat appeared and—"
"Not just any cat," cut in Scarlet. The words were low and furious. Her eyes, Nick noticed, were red-rimmed and swollen as if she had done her own share of crying on the way back. "It was my thankless employee, Ciara. Apparently she's been a spy for this Natural Order this entire time."
Ciara. The serval they had met before. The one who's music Judy had been so enamored with. One of the Order. Nick knew these were important facts, but his brain was encased in cotton and he didn't seem able to properly comprehend anything.
"It's not clear what happened," said Finnick, speaking up for the first time. His voice sounded gruffer than normal, but his gaze was steady when he looked at Nick. "It's true the cat snatched her, but it doesn't mean Judy is dead."
"By the throat!" cried Fru Fru, and Scarlet went pale beneath her whiskers. "You saw how l-limp Judy was! Don't act like that animal just grabbed her."
"There's still a chance she's fine," insisted Finnick.
Fru Fru gave a wet scoff before her emotions overcame her again and she buried her face in Marian's paws.
In a faint voice Scarlet said, "If you'll excuse me for a moment?" and disappeared up the stairs without waiting for a response from anyone.
After a moment, Will followed her.
"Robin, uh, a word?" said Little John.
The two stepped outside. Nick watched them go, wondering if he should care what they were talking about and finding that he didn't. He probably should, but then, he should probably be feeling and thinking a lot of things that he wasn't right now. Marian was still trying to console Fru Fru. Reynard had gathered Vixie and Todd close and was talking to them in a low, gentle voice. Now that was how you reassured a kit.
Finnick came over and held something out to Nick. It took Nick a long minute to realize 1) what it was, and 2) that Finnick expected him to take it.
Nick picked it up with numb paws. It was a tranquilizer gun, police issue.
"She dropped it when she was taken," said Finnick quietly. "Figured you might want to hold onto it for now."
Nick checked the chamber for no real reason he could say and saw that several darts were missing.
The small fox gave him the side-eyed. "Glad to see you made it back in one piece. An interesting story for another day, I'm sure. With lots of alcohol to go along with it."
Nick sucked in a breath. He hadn't been doing that, he realized. Breathing. He didn't know for how long he had not been doing it, except that even now, sucking in big gulping pulls of air, it didn't feel like enough. He fell to one knee beside his friend. Finnick gave him a couple rough smacks between the shoulder blades. "Hey-hey! Don't you dare pass out and leave me stuck in this house to deal with all these these crazy mammals by myself. I'll chew your tail off."
"Finn," Nick said on a rasp. "Is Judy really...?"
Finnick smacked his back a few more times. "I know what that shrew said sounds bad. But I meant what I said. We don't know anything for sure. That crazy bunny of yours is tough. I've seen her make it through worse. Don't give up hope yet."
As if hope was something you could keep as long as you believed hard enough. But in Nick's experience, hope wasn't anything so supportive and docile. Hope was a trickster beast that came and went as it pleased, regardless of your feelings about it. Sometimes it hung around when it would've been a mercy if it left you, and sometimes it refused to show no matter how hard you pretended it was there. And sometimes, it walked with you sweetly right to the end, before revealing that it had played you for a fool all along.
Nick wasn't sure how much longer he could stand to keep playing the fool. Even for hope. Even for Judy.