EDITED BY: DrummerMax64
Chapter Sixteen - ...Before the Storm
Another Friday dawned on the city of Zootopia, and the last weekday morning commute was in full swing. Subways were packed, streets were crammed, and the sidewalks were insanely crowded, made worse as more mammals of all shapes, sizes, and species joined the fray. Charles wasn't keen on the crowdedness of his usual walk to the downtown, or observing the blatant prejudice on other mammals' mugs and body language as they passed him by, so he tried pushing his discomfort to the back of his mind. Being exhausted and on edge didn't help with his situation. He attempted to focus his attention on other things, like the weather.
The weather was the usual spring mugginess, serving up a fresh batch of fog to give the city a creepy zombie movie vibe. Charles found himself surveying the area more than usual with the drape of mist around him. While Downtown and Sahara Square weren't affected by it, Savannah Central and the lower elevated sections of the city were shrouded in mist. This left visibility in some areas as low as a mile. For Charles, he was currently in the section of the city where visibility ranged from three to five miles. Mammals viewing the fog from the comfort of other high-rise buildings in the city, or perhaps Zootopia One, the tallest skyscraper in Zootopia, were guaranteed yet another breathtaking view worthy of a photograph.
A chill ran down the tiger's spine. The thought of the staggering height from the top floor left him breathless and cold. The feline quickly began to shake them away. His fears and demons were tempting to toy with him. Don't let them. Breath. That's what he was taught. Shut it out.
For what felt like the umpteinth time, Charles ditched that mindset and focused on something else, something that would make him happy. Something distracting to take his mind off of the laundry list of things he had to do.
Charles looked around and considered his whereabouts, eyeing a Snarlbucks to his left. That location severed as a landmark to the cat, letting him know that his commute to the Gazette was halfway over. He found himself in the outskirts of Downtown Zootopia, where the buildings grew increasingly taller, standing proudly to dot the familiar city skyline. In the corner of his eye, the sun had finally peaked over the horizon and kissed the tops of a few buildings, threatening to blind him if he dared turn the other way. The orange glow slowly ate away at the fog while the feline strode up the street.
Over time, the mist became visibly lighter, Charles noticing as he rounded a corner and through a crosswalk for the final stretch of his trip. The sun was blinding him on his left side through the openings between the buildings, and he radiated with warmth each time. It felt good against his fur after such a lackluster winter. It nearly made him question the decision on wearing a blazer. But, he didn't get to enjoy the sunlight for long.
Minutes later, Charles arrived at his building. He went through his morning routine—greeting the uncaring gazelle named Daryl sitting at the front desk, going into Jim Horkins for his cup of coffee, and stepping into another crowded elevator to go up to his floor. Thankfully, no one he knew was riding up with him, which eliminated any chance at conversation. Charles didn't mind it, of course. He wasn't much for small talk anyway. Every mammal around him kept their glances aimed at the doors. Some were daring enough to take second glances back at the tiger, only to have their gaze shoot back once the feline caught on. Charles smiled and took a sip of his coffee. He noticed that there was a clear divide between him and the mammals surrounding him. Who knew being a predator in a confined space surrounded by prey meant that mammals would be more than accommodating on the ride up?
Floor by floor, mammals shuffled out of the elevator with a newfound pep in their step, and soon Charles was riding the rest of the way alone up to the thirty-ninth floor. Another sip of coffee fueled his energy supply before the lift slowly came to a halt, opening to reveal the bold newstype font of the Gazette logo hung on the wall. He scoffed at it and passed the sign with malice, entering the south side of the floor.
At first glance, apart from the three mammals sitting at their desks eating their breakfasts, the floor looked empty. This was usual, as most mammals tended to arrive at or after nine o'clock in the morning, which, after checking his watch to confirm it, was around thirty-two minutes from now. This was good for Charles. No nosey coworkers to question what he was about to do.
The feline set his coffee down on Edward's desk and motioned past the kitchen and towards the copy center. He emptied one of the nearly depleted boxes of computer paper and carried it with the lid to Edward's desk, where he began placing various items inside—old articles, flash drives, an iCarrot charging cable, various pens and pencils stolen from the copy center, some notepads, a photograph of him, Edward, and Sharla, and a couple of coffee mugs.
Charles held the picture in his paw for a moment and stared at the gleaming faces within the frame. The corners of his mouth raised in turn. He remembered this memory. It was the day Edward and Sharla moved to Zootopia, and they had offered him to come out and walk through Savannah Central Plaza. By Sharla's request, Edward took a selfie of the three of them. Charles cherished that day greatly, a time when the three of them were excited to see what the future would hold for them. It was hard to believe that their arrival was just over three years ago. It seemed like yesterday. He was shocked Edward had gone and framed it.
Worried that he might have missed something, Charles scanned the desk once again, making doubly sure that he wasn't leaving anything important behind. Going through the trouble of making himself or Anders pick up Edward's miscellaneous items wouldn't be something either of them would enjoy doing.
Charles placed the lid on top of the box and hoisted the container up to his chest. When the sharp clattering of dishes inside the box reached his ears, he quickly and carefully placed the box back down on the desk. He checked on the contents again, worried that he might have broken something, and gave a sigh of relief when he found everything intact.
I should probably wrap the mugs in a paper towel, the feline thought to himself, eyes rolling at his oversight. He grabbed his coffee and started down the aisle.
In the short time between him entering the building and him packing away Edward's belongings, more mammals made their way into the office. Charles made sure to greet two of his coworkers he considered friends, both of whom gave tired and hesitant replies back to him. One mammal he passed, however, didn't seem to share the sentiment if their scoff and turn of the head meant anything. Charles ignored them and continued down. They obviously weren't worth his time.
The kitchen on their floor was like any other in a crowded office building. Outfitted with a freezer, two fridges, two sinks, four microwaves, a couple vending machines, and the coffee maker, it was built to handle an army. Their kitchen also included a few snack bins for packaged food, and a slushy machine to make sure that all new employees gained the 'Gazette twenty' in their first week, which everyone in the office was guilty of one way or another. With the room being the only other connector between the north and south sides in their building besides a narrow hallway near Horn's office, it saw a ton of action. Luckily for Charles, he knew their facility staff kept the kitchen stocked full of everything imaginable inside the many cabinets around the room. Surely a single roll of paper towel wouldn't be missed.
Charles took another sip of his coffee and savored the bitter taste. His mission was almost complete. As long as he didn't get distracted, he would be in and out before lunch, and he would be ready to own up to his confession.
"...We should kick them out of Zootopia."
That line made Charles stop dead in his tracks, just a couple feet away from the entrance to the kitchen, the place where he presumed the voice came from.
"If predators are going to turn savage anyway," the voice continued, "then why don't we just kick them out and protect the rest of the city? Why not just solve the problem now instead of putting everyone else at risk?"
Here we go, Charles rolled his eyes, another prejudicial debate in the office. I bet he won't even be considered for firing.
"You can't just exile entire species of animals from Zootopia," another voice contested, "it would cause nothing but chaos. Just imagine the repercussions of removing ten percent of the city's population. Businesses would shut down. Major positions in the city government would be forced to resign. The tolls on the families would be intense. Almost all the ZPD and the ZFD would lose their jobs, which would mean an increase in crime, which would mean more mammals leaving the city—"
"You're over exaggerating, Kyle," came the other mammal's doubt, "I'm sure it wouldn't get that bad."
"Who's to say that it won't?"
"Who's to say that it will?"
"Look, Shawn," the voice conceded, "I agree, I don't like living in a city where these... savages... could turn any minute, but we just have to face the facts, there isn't going to be a quick solution to this. Zootopia is the birthplace of coexistence. Kicking out predators would go against that ideal, and the public would cause an uproar about it. I was going to recommend trying to split predator and prey up like everyone did in the sixties, but I don't think that would sit well with our government nowadays either.
"We could just control them using shock collars like they do in some prisons."
"Maybe. It wouldn't stir up the city too much, and it solves the problem fairly quickly. But, I think we just need to have faith. Mayor Bellwether will take care of these savages… somehow."
It was then that Charles made his grand entrance. The voice who placed Charles amongst those affected by the Nighthowlers looked shocked, nearly ashamed if the long rabbit ears pinned to the back of his head meant anything. The other, a middle-aged sheep, looked proud, and confident. He glared at the tiger disdainfully. Charles smiled.
"Please," the feline said, "don't stop on my account. I found your topic interesting. You were talking about shock collars?"
"Yeah," the sheep affirmed, "what of it?"
"Well, I think you should know that those collars you recommended, they don't just regulate rage and aggression. They check all emotions. Too much happiness, zap. Too much sadness, zap. Too much pain, zap. Too much love, guess what? Zap. Imagine trying to conceive under those conditions. You couldn't get past trying for a baby let alone having one."
"So?"
"I'm only saying that you would risk the advancement of entire species just because of this epidemic. The hyenas and coyotes are suffering enough as it is. Putting something like this into effect could finish them off for good in Zootopia. Would you feel right playing into the extinction of your fellow mammals?"
The sheep rolled his eyes. "You're over exaggerating. Even if it does happen, there'll be regulations to prevent something like that from happening."
"What about the moral justification? We don't know how mammals turn, and you're condemning them to something that'll control their lives? Why don't we study it further rather than find some easy fix? Maybe then we wouldn't have mammals going at each other's throats. Or do you not care enough?"
"...Sorry," the rabbit mumbled.
"Grow a spine, Kyle. Don't let someone like him force ideals down your throat."
"You're one to talk," Charles pointed out, plucking a roll of paper towels from one of the holders on the island. "He's scared. Like everyone else in the city, he's scared that he might get attacked, or be in the line of fire. He has every right to be. And you know what? I'm scared too." This gained a sullen reaction from the buck. "I'm scared that I might turn and hurt someone I love. I'm scared for my friends. I'm scared for everyone around me. I'm scared for this city. Fear isn't one-sided. It goes both ways. Don't let someone like him tell you otherwise."
"Excuse me?" the sheep sputtered.
"You're excused," Charles grinned, turning to leave.
"Damn savage."
The feline shook his head and ignored the comment, continuing down the aisle towards Edward's workstation, paper towel roll in paw.
Whether he liked it or not, the sheep's prejudice got under his skin. It was similar to his experience back at the Snarlbucks near their office building, yet it felt different. Normally, he wouldn't think much about bigots or their mean-spirited attitude. It wasn't something he needed after living most of his life with prejudice against those who he loved thanks to his mother, so he did his best to avoid it as much as he could.
And life decided to throw him another curveball, just after beginning to recover from the last one. With the increase in attacks on predators in the city, and the prey population scared out of their wits that there isn't any change happening, more and more mammals who believe in that age-old bigotry came out from the woodwork. What made this fact increasingly frightening was that others were starting to believe them. That's what made this situation with his coworkers different. Charles wanted to believe that Kyle didn't know any better, that the sheep had shoved his ideals down the rabbit's throat, but he couldn't tell. Maybe his apology was genuine. Maybe he didn't have a single mean bone in his body. There was no way to tell for sure, and if Charles was being honest, he wasn't keen on finding out.
What he did know was this: Protests were on the rise. Hate was spewing from the depths of Zootopia, dividing the city. Soon the damage might become irreparable. Knowing that he had the answer right in his paws, it was difficult to watch, difficult to endure.
All Charles had to do now was hope their small group could find whoever was behind the attacks. At least then the city could go back to some semblance of normality.
Speaking of which… the feline thought, pulling his phone out and dialing a number.
While the phone rang, he concluded his walk and began wrapping Edward's more fragile belongings, holding the smartphone to the side of his head with his shoulder.
"Hello," the voice on the other end finally picked up.
"Hey, Tommy," Charles lightly spoke, "how's my big ol' sweetheart doing?"
"Awake and ready for duty."
"You don't sound like it. Did Wolford take you to get a cup of coffee yet?"
"We're at Snarlbucks right now. I'd bring you one, but we're with the precinct in Tundratown right now assisting with an investigation."
"Sounds like a lot of fun. You freezing your tail off yet?"
"What do you need, hon?" his boyfriend dodged.
"Well, other than bugging you for a bit, I wanted to ask if I could get another peek at that report on the missing mammals again."
Silence followed his question. A few seconds later, Thomas quietly spoke.
"I... can't do that, Charlie."
"What?" Charles said, closing the box and properly holding his phone. "Why not? The information is available to the public now, isn't it?"
"It was going to be. But, as of today, the ZPD are treating it as an open case. There hasn't been any leads on how predators are going savage, and more keep turning, so the chief reopened the case until a solution is found. Because it's open—"
"You can't tell the public anything about it."
"Exactly. I'm sorry, hon. Under normal circumstances, I would give you the report in a heartbeat, but right now I can't. The chief is already super stressed as it is, and if I go against a direct order, you can imagine how he would react."
"I hear you," the reporter sighed, nodding his head.
Charles only spoke with the cape buffalo known as Chief Adrian Bogo once in his life. The two met the night Charles was detained on one of the station platforms in the Rainforest District, when he reached his mental low. Instead of seeing a cell that night, the feline was whisked away with the help of Thomas Fangmeyer—which also turned out to be the first time both felines were formally introduced—to the head office of Precinct One. Upon arrival, Charles was met with the scruffy chief of police. At first glance, he understood that the chief was no-nonsense. The tiger recalled that the deep British tone in his voice nearly mimicked his own Mammalian one, and he was incredibly fit.
That night, after offering Charles a cup of coffee, the chief explained to him that he wanted to help him 'get better.' He didn't ask why Charles did what he did. He didn't treat the conversation like an interrogation, it felt personal, heartwarming in a way. It wasn't demanding, the talk feeling more like a plan of attack for the future. He didn't push the subject past that, but he did push Charles to seek further help for his condition. 'He would be there for him,' Adrian told him, and that 'he would help in any way he could.' And he was. Bogo set the future reporter up with a psychiatrist in Savannah Central, Doctor Melanie Snoutworth, and put him on the path to recovery. Without a ride, Fangmeyer agreed on a direct order to take him to his first sessions, eventually blossoming into something more.
Charles would like to imagine sometimes that the chief planned it out that way, knowing that the two of them would get together. In reality, it all came down to blind luck. The kind of luck that somehow played out in the feline's favor.
"That Cape buffalo should really take a day off for himself."
"Tell me about it. We've been trying to tell him that for years. It's like he buries himself in the job." A pause. "Listen, I hate leaving like this, but I've got to get going. Wolford's probably trying to guess my drink right now, and I'd rather not get espresso like last time. If you do manage to find something related to the case, let us know. I might be able to get in good with the chief if you do."
"I'll be sure to tell you if I find anything."
"Thanks, babe."
"No problem, Tommy."
"I'll talk to you later. Bye! Love you!"
"Love you too, hon."
The call disconnected. Charles leaned against the desk and blankly looked at his phone. Anger was beginning to well up.
We just lost our most crucial source material, the tiger rehashed. Great. Just perfect.
Before he had the chance to fully stoop in his annoyance, roars of laughter could be quietly heard bouncing off the walls. What made it strange was that it came in the direction of Horn's office, which was now in clear view. As it ended, a pair of smiling sheep walked out of the door, Horn herself stepping outside of the office to see them off before closing it behind them.
Now that she's free, I can finish up here, he thought, looking around. I hate being in this building.
In less than twenty seconds, he was out from Edward's empty desk, down the aisle, and opening the door to Danielle's office. The gazelle didn't appear to acknowledge his presence. Her eyes were glued to the paperwork on her desk and whatever was on the screen of her computer monitor. He immediately saw through her scare tactics. When he shut the door, the flick of her ears gave that guise away. No turning back now.
The reporter walked straight up to the desk, placing his smartphone screen-side up in front of the paperwork she was looking at.
With a pause, she glanced over at the phone, seeing its unlocked screen and the application it showed.
"What is this?" she asked.
"It's the recording." When Horn's expression remained unchanged, he explained. "I'm letting you delete it."
Upon uttering those words, Charles intently watched his boss, hoping to gauge some sort of reaction from her.
This part of the plan was more or less a crapshoot. The recording on his phone didn't mean a thing now that one of the attacks was so close to the building. Charles knew that. He suspected that Danielle knew that too, but he needed to know for sure. So, he came up with a test to prove it, using the recording as bait. If Horn deleted the recording, it would prove she was still openly worried about others finding out about her motives. If she didn't delete it, then that would prove it wasn't necessary.
Danielle stared at the device for a couple of seconds, looking blandly at the recording. Her hoof slowly went towards the phone, stopping just above the screen. Charles tensed up.
She grasped the phone without picking it up, pushed the power button on the side, and went back to her paperwork.
"I sincerely hope that wasn't all you wished to talk about. My schedule is booked from now until the end of the day. If you were planning on wasting anymore of my time, I suggest you start packing your things."
Charles held back the grin that nearly showed on his face and stuffed the phone back into his pocket. "Actually, there was something else that I needed to discuss with you going forward. I'll make it short and sweet so you can get on with your day."
She set down the paper in her grasp and cupped her hooves together. "I'm listening."
"I know you don't like the idea of having predators in the office because of the incident with Kristy. You don't want to have another. I'm proposing that I would be able to work entirely mobile, and send in my work via email so that I don't ever have to step foot in this office—"
"Granted," she quickly agreed, cutting him off.
"I wasn't finished."
"Well, get on with it then, Charles."
"It's about Edward," he mumbled, checking behind him. A couple mammals passed by the room.
"Pensive are we?" she noticed. "What about him?"
The tiger leaned in on the desk towards Danielle, now in a hushed tone.
"I need you to promise me that you'll put in a good word for him, and recommend him to any job he gets outside of this company. Moreover, I also need your word that you won't reveal his marriage. He's agreed to walk away from the company willingly, and I think he deserves the right to come out on his own terms rather than being slandered."
"You talk as if I hate the mammal."
"Well, you haven't exactly been kind to him. You shut him down on everything he's done for the Gazette in the past year, essentially fired him after his mother's death, and threatened to put his marriage in the spotlight and defame him in the midst of the city's current chaos. Would you like more, or would you like to look past the last five days?"
The gazelle calmly got up from her seat, without making eye contact, and waltzed over to the coffee and tea station along the wall. She popped in one of the single-serve packages into the coffee maker and placed a mug under the spout, the machine whirring to life.
"I never said that I hated his work, Charles, let's get that straight," she admitted with her back turned. "In actuality, he was one of the better writers on the floor, if not the best. Sure, he isn't a 'Lemmingway' by any means, but he certainly has a talent for pouring his soul onto the page. Based on what he's given me, I'd assume he's been stressed, pensive, and shattered. It reflects badly on the page. When predators began going savage, I had to analyze the situation. Putting Snow on the spot was merely another judgment call I had to make. As I said before, I'm not scared. At least, in a personal sense."
The machine clanked and clunked, then finally went quiet, and Horn began preparing the cup for consumption.
"Look through the blinds for me, if you could. Humor me, please."
Charles did as he was told without question, pulling down on one of the thin plastic blinds with his claw, revealing the entirety of the floor.
"What do you see?"
Unsure of the point, he answered, "I see… the office space. The rows of desks. Mammals coming in for work…"
"You know what I see?" she asked rhetorically, now standing next to him with her coffee in hoof, looking through the blinds herself. "I see liabilities. Those mammals, working on the floor, doing their jobs? They're defenseless. If such an attack occurs on this floor, they are the first in the line of fire. They are my employees, Charles. I can't imagine what would have happened if Kristy had turned inside the building. A handful of resignations, a couple lawsuits and injuries on the side, and a company in chaos." She snapped the blades of the metal she was looking through shut, motioning towards her desk. "You see, the savagery itself isn't what scares me. It is the ramifications of it that follows after such a event that frighten me the most. Understand that I don't specifically hate predators. Think of it as taking precautions to prevent something drastic in the workplace."
"Have other predators in the office received the same deal as I have?"
Horn stopped and leaned against the back of her desk. "For those who actually do fieldwork and write, yes."
"And those who don't?"
The rise of the corner of Horn's mouth was more than enough to answer his question. She made her way back to her office chair, the furniture yelling its dissatisfaction with a loud creak. "Edward will have my word that he can look to me for a recommendation, or a reference if need be. And since he walked away instead of giving me another lackluster story, I'll give him the added benefit of not revealing his little secret."
Charles sighed. "Thank you."
With his task complete, and his will to remain in the office completely drained, he started towards the door, giving the handle a turn.
"It must be difficult for her," Danielle spoke without looking up, grabbing the reporter's attention. "Knowing that the one she loves, or even her friends, could turn any minute. I wonder how she's holding up?"
Whether slamming the door upon exit was a good idea or not, Charles couldn't have cared less.
o o o
Edward was sat at the foot of the bed in his pajamas, still somewhat groggy from his early wake-up call. He felt awful. Physically speaking, he felt fine. In a mental sense, however, he was far from okay. His aimless gaze was still processing what his wife had told him a few seconds prior. He never expected anything like this.
"Edward," she had said to him, "when I told you that I could never be afraid of you, know that I meant every word of it. I love you with all my heart, and there's no changing that, regardless of what happens. But, I think we should… or rather need to discuss this now before we don't have that chance. I'm scared, Eddy. I'm scared of losing you, and what you might become. I know you're one of the kindest, sweetest mammals on the planet, and I know you don't want me to get hurt either. That's why I'm thinking we should come up with some form of plan if things do go south."
The wolf was struggling to think up a proper response. Maintaining a clear head was becoming increasingly difficult for him these last few days. He felt it best to break down her idea to get a better picture.
On one end of the spectrum, he was hurting. Her words were like daggers whether she meant for it or not. The thought of his own fears realized, and those fears being shared by his wife, fueled the melancholic cloud looming over his head. It was clear she was looking at him differently. Did Sharla see him as some sort of monster?
The other end of the spectrum, rather than sweeping the thought away as hearsay, understood where she was coming from. She didn't have the knowledge he had about Nighthowlers being the source of the recent attacks, and he recognized that. To her, Edward becoming savage was a real possibility, a threat, and instead of ignoring the issue, her idea of tackling it and creating safeguards against it was her idea of saving their marriage and solving the problem at the same time.
Part of him wanted to fight the idea outright. He wanted to ensure her everything would be okay and that there was no way he could turn.
But he couldn't. Cursed with the knowledge of what was really going on meant that she couldn't know. No matter what, he had to maintain the lie. Bringing her into the loop meant putting her at risk. There was no way he would do that to her, which meant he would have to let her idea run its course.
Edward was still in a seriously disheartening position. Even with the knowledge, it felt morally wrong. It was wrong. No one should have to be subjugated to this fate, both living in fear and feared for who you are. It wasn't right.
The wolf shook his head and dispelled the mental debate. Fighting with himself wasn't going to get him anywhere.
"What did you have in mind?" Edward finally asked, forcing the corners of his mouth into a half-smile. "Something like pepper spray and a taser, or more along the lines of physical self-defense?"
"...Something like that," the ewe hesitatingly mumbled, which confused the wolf for a moment. Was she expecting a fight, or some defiance? "We don't have to go into specifics right now, I just thought I'd throw it out there."
"No, it's okay. It's important to you. If our roles were switched, I'd feel the same way. I couldn't live with myself if I hurt you." The wolf jumped off of the bed and motioned to his wife, taking a paw into her hoof. "We can visit one of those home security stores later today if you want. That way we can get the easy stuff out of the way."
"Are you sure?"
"I'm sure. I want you to be safe, hon. If having these things makes you feel protected around me, then I think it's a no-brainer. I'm all for it—"
Before he could finish, the phone in his pocket began to ring, cutting him off a few words early. Edward pulled the phone out and saw Charles's name and picture on the screen.
"It's Charlie," he said, leaning down to kiss the side of the ewe's face. "He's probably got my stuff by now." Edward tapped the green button and brought the phone up to his ear. "Hello?"
"Hey Ed," his friend replied. "I've got your things. I'm heading to Savannah Central right now, so I should be there in about forty-five minutes."
"Forty-five minutes," he inquiringly repeated, the ewe in turn lifting herself off of the couch and to their dresser. "Sounds good. We'll make sure to be there."
"I'll see you then, Ed."
"See you later."
Getting ready after the call felt surprisingly more awkward than normal. Neither husband nor wife spoke past the occasional question, and maintained their silence up until the point of departure twenty-five minutes later. It was tense, embarrassing even. Edward felt that they shouldn't let the issue divide them. So, he offered her something that they hadn't worn out in public since their wedding: their gold rings.
When Edward handed Sharla her ring, she was rightfully puzzled. Refusing to wear them was something they'd both agreed to even before their proposal. With views of interspecies couples still as bad as they were, and now with the whole situation of savage predators, they felt it wise not to add more stress to their lives, and stave off Edward's insecurities.
With Edward losing his job, and the state of the city pushing down on him, to him it didn't matter anymore. Horn was going to reveal their relationship to the readers of the Gazette and put them in the limelight anyway. Why hide it?
The gesture felt right. It was something both Edward and Sharla needed. They needed to be strong. Even if what Sharla was doing wasn't morally sound in its entirety, it was important for her to feel safe.
They could get through this. They just needed to hold on.
When he saw the smile light up on her face, even if it was just a small half smile, it warmed his heart. She took the ring and wore it proudly on her middle hoof, relishing in its golden splendor. Edward put his own ring on and gave her a peck on the lips in turn, another longer kiss following.
With both sheep and wolf ready to depart, they made it out of their apartment complex and down the street toward Savannah Central. Their walk was quiet and uneventful, edging on boring at times. It didn't help that every time Edward looked down to Sharla he saw this aimless stare that could only be described as otherworldly. He'd never seen her so lost. Was this how he looked the past week? She seemed so melancholic, so lost. It was very much unlike her.
Edward instinctively reached for her hoof with his paw, the ewe reactively jumping when they entwined. She looked up to the wolf, who was trying to form some caring words in his head. Admittedly, she was better at this than he was. Before he had the chance, she got close to him, wrapping her hooves around his arm as she cuddled it tight. After kissing the top of her head, Edward retained his focus, the two of them strolling down the sidewalk together side by side, passing by street after street, and eventually reached the morning crowds.
The more they passed the random hecklers showing some sort of displeasure with the act of affection and other mammals who looked at them differently, the more Edward realized something surprising: he didn't care. After years of worrying, suddenly it didn't matter what they thought of them. That fact was what fueled the grin on his muzzle. Edward revelled in the moment.
Although, his confidence didn't last long. The moment they stepped foot near the district's center just outside of the park, he felt his anxiety start creeping in. Instead of letting it fester like he normally would, he decided to take it in stride as they made their way through the park, ignoring the growing number of protesters near the Natural History Museum.
Sharla spotted a bench off in the distance, the seating located under a tree in a secluded spot near the police station. It seemed like a good place to hunker down and wait for Charles. It was safe, and if they got into any trouble they could walk straight to the ZPD and file a complaint.
The married couple sat down together, Edward's arm over his wife's shoulders. It was like their university days all over again.
Edward went ahead and texted their location to the feline, thinking it would make it easier to find each other in the crowds of Savannah Central. It was similar to trying to find a needle in a haystack.
The wolf and ewe waited patiently for their friend, eyeing the many mammals that were traversing the paths, resting on the grass, and circling the outskirts of the park. The day itself was beautiful. Take away the protesters and Edward might've called the setting peaceful.
The protesters are on the other side of the park, Edward observed, letting out a calming breath from his nostrils. We won't be bothered here.
At least, that's what he hoped, until someone tapped him on the shoulder.
The lupine tensed up. Anxiety slowly crept over his shoulder like a shadow. He prepared for the worst, turning his body to meet whoever was behind the bench.
He looked at the mammal, sighed, then smiled.
"Hey, Charles," Edward greeted the feline, seeing the box tucked under his arm.
"Hi Charlie," Sharla followed.
"Hey guys," the tiger greeted, setting the box down in the empty spot next to Sharla. "Might I say that you two are looking exceptionally adorable today. What's the occasion?"
"We thought that we shouldn't care what mammals think. With everything going on—Horn, the attacks, our story—doing what's best for us is top priority. And I wouldn't have it any other way."
"Edward's confident? And he's open? You've got to be pulling my leg. This had to be your idea, Sharla."
"Nope," she shook her head, "this was completely Edward's idea."
Charles looked at the lupine, flabbergasted. "Who are you, and what have you done to the real Edward?"
The three friends shared a laugh, gaining the attention of a few mammals. Edward was the only one who seemed to notice.
"Mind if I steal your wolf for a minute or two, Shar?" Charles eventually asked. "I've got to talk with him about story details."
"Sure," she said, "but don't run off and marry him. I don't think his heart could handle another marriage."
"No promises!"
Charles took Edward and their conversation a number of feet away from the bench near a tree. Sharla wasn't the type to eavesdrop on a sensitive conversation, but for the Nighthowler attacks, an extra layer of caution couldn't hurt.
"Anders is looking into the shops around the city," the feline hushly revealed. "He told me he started working on the contact sheet again at around five in the morning. At least, that's what the document says."
"Did he get any sleep last night?
"Personally, no. We stopped working around the same time you left. He probably got home at around three-thirty. But, given that he texted me instead of calling me like he normally does, I don't think he slept at all last night."
"That's crazy. Poor guy."
"Tell me about it. The fact that he's willing and able to stay up like that, it means a lot. I don't think we'd be able to solve this without him.
"We couldn't. His information-gathering skills are the best. I bet he's on his third cup of coffee right now."
"I'd wager he's on his fourth. But," Charles shook his head, getting back on topic, "that aside, here's where we're at. Right now, he's starting work on contacting stores and getting what information he can. After I'm done here, I'm going to try and visit some of the locations personally to take some of the load off of Andy. I was thinking we could work together on this one. You're way better at interviews than me."
"I'll see what I can do," the silver wolf muttered, his paw brushing the back of his neck. He could feel his ears begin to fall. "Sharla and I've got something to do once I drop off my things."
"Oh. Well, text me when you're free and we can meet up."
"Sure," Edward nodded. "Is there anything else that's come up since last night?"
"Actually, yes," the tiger grimaced. "The report for the Missing Mammals case is open again."
"What? I thought it was going to be public info?"
"That's what I thought, too. But, they didn't figure out the solution to how the predators are going savage, so we can't use it as a proper source in our findings unless we want Tommy to get in trouble, or worse, lose his job."
"Biscuits… How are we supposed to write the report without that source? Do we just run it like that anyway?"
"I'm not sure. We didn't sign any non-disclosure agreement, so we won't get in trouble ourselves, but I don't want to get Tommy in trouble either. If the information is going to the ZPD alone, then I think all parties should be fine as long as we show our compliance, but we'll have to wait and see."
"Well, we've got plenty of time now that we don't have Horn to worry about."
For a moment, Charles went wide-eyed, then he turned away from the wolf, his orange ears pinned back. Edward couldn't help but notice.
"What's wrong?"
Charles stood in place silently, opening and shutting his maw repeatedly before he finally spoke. "Earlier today, I spoke with Horn."
"And?"
"Well, I asked about the state of your job, and... I made a deal with her."
There was a slight pause. "A deal?"
"Yes. I thought that she treated you unfairly, so I took a chance and reasoned with her. She promised to put in a good word in to wherever you decide to go next. Whether it be at ZNN, the Zootopian Times, or the Post, she'll vouch for you. I even got her to not tell anyone—"
"Wait. You said… my job. Didn't you?"
Another wayward glance.
"Charlie, what's going on?"
The tiger sighed.
"Remember when we were brought in the first time?"
Edward nodded.
"Well, before that, she pulled me into her office for a separate meeting. She told me about the story, and how I would be assisting you with it. What she didn't tell me… was about how the security of your job was at stake. I found out when you did. When I questioned her about it, she told me about how she was trying to save her company. It was all she cared about. I tried to blackmail her—"
"Why didn't you tell me about it?
"I—"
"You should have told me," the wolf said, his voice raising in volume. "We're best friends, Charles! You can't just keep that kind of secret from me! I had every right to know!"
"Edward, trust me, I wanted to tell you. You don't know how much I've wanted to. Keeping this from you was the hardest thing I've ever had to do. But…"
"But what?"
"I couldn't."
The lupine was appalled. He nearly screamed, "Why not?!"
"If I told you, she would have fired me on the spot."
"You're joking!" Edward crossed his arms and shook his head. "So, let me get this straight. You mean to tell me that you egged me on and forced me to quit my job for a story that I put my all into, just so you could keep your job security?"
"I know it looks bad, Ed, but please try to understand—"
"No, you understand," the wolf growled, now on the brink of tears, "I trusted you. I thought that we could get through this, together. I thought that we could solve this, become heros, and maybe… maybe then I could…"
"Could what?"
"Forget it. It doesn't matter anymore." Edward flippantly waved his paw. "I guess I should just get used to losing everything, shouldn't I? I'm so pathetic. So… weak. The moment something goes right…"
"Ed, don't think like that."
The wolf didn't even let the feline finish before he was off. In a teary haze, Edward started back down the way he and Sharla came in at a brisk walk, uncaring about the mammals passing him by with confused, curious stares.
Sharla rushed over to the tiger's side, the two of them watching Edward's body disappear further into the distance.
"What's going on?" she asked, wondering what the commotion was all about. "Charlie, what happened?"
All Charles could muster was a depressed shrug.
"I messed up, Shar. I messed up bad." He let out a sigh. "I'll take Ed's stuff back home with me and drop it off later when things have calmed down. I've still got my key."
She hesitated.
"Go. Be with your hubby. He needs you. I can take care of myself."
With that, she ran after Edward, leaving the tiger alone to stoop in his misery. He knew something like this would happen. He counted on it. However, no matter how much he prepared for his friend's reaction to the news, it didn't stave away the pain. He felt so heavy…
Charles shook his head and attempted to recollect his thoughts. Right now, he didn't have time to sulk. Although he wanted his day to be over, he wasn't finished yet, and based on what they still had in line for their investigation, there was still much to be done.
He took the box from the park bench, looked back at the protesters across the park with a sigh, and forced himself toward his apartment.
Once he was away from the heart of the city, the feline pulled out his phone and dialed Anders's number. He picked up on the second ring.
"Hello?"
"I'm ready for the first hit. What's the location?"
"Oh, uh… 1350 South Antler Street. I'll text it to you in a minute."
"Spectacular. You're a miracle worker, Anders."
"I aim to please."
"I'll go there when I drop off something at my place."
"Sure thing," Anders said hesitantly. "Are you alright, Charles? You sound like a million days of bad road."
"A long night will do that to you. You don't sound too good yourself. But yeah," Charles frowned. "Never been better."
o o o
Standing in front of the wide pane of glass, Dawn observed the sunset that painted the partly cloudy sky over the city of Zootopia, the gleam of the sun nearly blinding her as it bounced off of the buildings. To some it could be considered a beautiful setting, but she couldn't possibly relish the thought.
Before she was mayor, to the city, she was just another mammal in the crowd. Another sheep straight out of law school looking to make a difference in a city where prey mammals were treated like they were underappreciated and underestimated. Like most mammals, she grew up believing in the mantra "anyone can be anything." She wanted to be more. She wanted to help mammals, help the city. Instead, she found herself struggling to make ends meet, ending up as running mate to a lion who treated her like everyone else.
Lionheart used her. He used her to sway the sheep population into voting for him, and when he finally made it into office, he bossed and pushed her around like she was nothing. Unless you were strong and loud, what voice did you have? Who could blame Dawn for taking action when she finally had enough? He didn't deserve that job, and she wasn't going to sit around taking the brunt of his shit.
So she contacted one of her old friends in the Meadowlands, and they devised a plot to take the job right out from under him, and on top of that, bring all predators down to where they rightfully belonged.
Thanks to Judy Hopps, Dawn was one step further to making that dream a reality. Lionheart was in jail, predators were feared, and she was mayor now. Mayor Dawn Bellwether. It had a nice ring to it.
A faint buzzing sound brought the ewe back down to reality. She went over to her desk, impulsively adjusted her glasses, and pulled out the disposable phone sitting in one of the drawers. It buzzed in her hoof as she glanced at the caller ID, then brought it up to her ear when she confirmed who it was. She was annoyed.
"I thought I told you not to call me unless it was an emergency, Doug."
"Yeah, yeah. I know. After Woolter told me how you grilled him for calling you during work hours, I wouldn't dream of it."
"That was different."
"So I've been told."
"Then why are you calling me right now? This better be important."
"It is," he assured. "We've got a problem, Dawn. Someone's onto us."
The ewe went bug-eyed. "Mutton chops."