Ch.3, Missing:
"If I stay here very long, I might misbehave. Somebody might have to kill me."
-The Missing, 2003
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Judy dreamed. She dreamed she was riding on the back of Luna and they were riding fast. She couldn't remember the last time she rode so fast. Keeping pace with a locomotive, she cut straight through Bunny Burrow, through mountainsides, pastures, and every district in Zootopia. She couldn't help but feel so alive. No small town, or endless farm work, or responsibility of caring for her siblings. She and Luna were free, and she never wanted to stop.
"Judy!" a voice calls out, "Judy!" it calls out again, followed by the heavy pounding on her hard oak wood door, ending the dream. "Mama wants everyone up and making sure everything is set for Pa's trip."
Judy groans as she pulls the quilted covers to the side. Swinging her legs out, and letting her bare feet touch the cold wooden floor. Judy takes off her nightgown and stretches her arms and legs while looking at herself in the mirror.
Looking at her naked self in the mirror, Judy can't help but feel a bit of pride at how well she has grown into her body. Small, slender, and muscular, nonstop farm work helped with that. Her breast, perfect in her mind, not too big or too small. She has noticed a few male mammals that can't help but take a quick glance before turning away in shame. The only thing about her body that brought bother was the scar across her left cheek. Though invisible to most, Judy could still see the faint scar, a scar from a fox's knife a long time ago.
Stepping away from the mirror to her wardrobe, it did not contain much in the way of clothing. There was her nightgown of course and her labor dress to wear while working on the farm. She did have a fancy dress that she did not care much for, but wore for Sunday mass or during festivities and town celebrations. Judy's favorite dress was a regular pale blue one, that she would wear while running errands in town. But the reason she liked it the most, was because it made her feel free, like in her dream. Not tethered down to Bunny Burrow like the other dresses.
Judy pulled the plain blue dress from her wardrobe and slipped it on. Next, slipping her feet into thin white stockings and brown leather boots, that gave a crinkling sound. The last item of clothing for Judy was her Brick Cowgirl hat, which she hung on her bedpost.
Leaving her room, Judy searches for her siblings. The sun had not even peeked over the horizon, the farm shrouded in a thin mist. Judy could see her younger siblings making sure the harvest was in the carriage, her older siblings were leading Bruce, the old stallion, to the wagon. She, however, only stood back and supervised; as the oldest, she figures she did her part when she was their age.
Checking over her siblings' work, making sure they hitched Bruce to the wagon. With everything in order, Judy went back inside to help herself to a bowl of porridge that her mother was cooking.
In the back, Judy could hear her father getting ready, praying, and mumbling to himself. Then the familiar sound of bullets loaded into the 1860 Henry Rifle.
Her father's footsteps grew louder. Judy sat at the family table, finishing off her porridge as quickly as possible. Her father enters with the rifle in hand, going over to the coat rack and putting on his thick wool jacket and round top hat. He looks over at Judy.
"Judy..." Stu starts in a soft and tender voice, "You wouldn't happen to have taken my rifle and gone for some early morning target practice, would you?"
Judy tenses, she tries calming herself, and continues to eat her porridge as if it was her only concern.
"No, Pa," said Judy, hoping there wasn't the tiniest quiver in her voice, "You know I don't use your rifle without your say."
"That's good, the authorities in town were going to execute a mammal yesterday morning. But, he escaped, still had the noose around his neck too. They think he had some accomplice helping him. Some sharp shooter, or at least someone with good aim."
"Sounds like quite a character."
"If you ask me, it's hard to believe that a great marksman like that would acquaint themselves with some, low-level bread thief," Stu walks up behind his daughter. At this point, Judy was only pretending to still be eating, her wooden spoon was doing nothing but scraping the bottom of the bowl.
He leans over her and places a small object in front of Judy: a bullet shell.
Judy took in a nervous gulp. Looking at the empty shell Judy realizes that it's the shell to the bullet she fired, the same casing she fired to cut the rope around that young rabbit's neck, she never ejected the shell. Stupid, careless, why did I not remove the round?
"Next time, eject the cartridge," Stu said, "A fired shell in the chamber could cause rust and jam the lever."
Judy was speechless, this was not what she was expecting. She felt her father lift up her hat and place a loving kiss atop her head. Stu heads for the door. She couldn't help but smile and laugh at her father's unforseen response.
Judy stands up from the table. There's still time to tell Pa goodbye, she thought, running outside. Stu was already settling himself in the wagon, with the rifle by his side. Judy climbs up and wraps her arms around her father, planting a loving kiss on his cheek.
"Don't worry about anything, I'm here to make sure all is in order."
"I know. Jude, the dude," Stu says, calling her by the nickname he would use. "Can't think of anyone better. I know you wish you could be my ride along, how excited you would get, traveling with me. But your mother isn't as spry as she once was and needs all the help she can get with the kits, the farm, and anything else." Stu places his hand on his daughter's soft cheek. "You know, you look as beautiful as your mother when I first met her. You have her beauty, her heart, and her gumption. I'm glad all you got from me was being hard headed. Always try to do the unexpected and show goodness to others." Stu gives Judy one last hug and a kiss to the forehead.
Stepping off the wagon, Judy walks up beside Bruce. She moves her hand across his side in a smooth motion and scratches behind his ear. Bruce lowers his head, allowing Judy to scratch and whispers, "Take care of him, you old stallion.".
Stu whips the leather reins and they start heading out. Judy watches her father grow smaller and smaller until he is no longer in sight.
For the rest of the day, Judy spent the rest of the day riding Luna around town. Of course she ran some errands for her mother if she was going to be out riding. There was one place in particular that Judy has wanted to see: the construction of the railroad.
It was fascinating to think of the craftsmen and engineering behind the railroad. What would take three days to reach Zootopia, could now happen within three hours.
Judy brought Luna to a trot, making sure that they weren't in the way of construction. Several groups working on different things: one group shoveling gravel, another laying down large shaven wood blocks, and the last group moving the heavy steel tracks.
Most mammals were too busy to notice her, though a few would look up at her and take their hats off in courtesy. And a few Judy could feel undressing her with their eyes, those mammals made her feel sick to her stomach. She tries to ignore them and continues on, giving Luna a swift kick to the side to speed up.
A few days pass and Judy's father has yet to return. Though she expected this, he'd only been gone four days at most. During that time, she kept her word: working on the farm, doing her chores, taking care of the little ones, and helping her mother with whatever was needed.
After the fifth day had come and gone, Judy stayed up late, looking out into the distance hoping to see her father riding in. Staying in the barn, as long as she could to take care of Luna. Every now and then, she would look up from her work, hoping to see Stu riding down the road. Before retiring for the night, she would look out one more time before going in.
On the sixth day, her mother asked her to run some errands in town. Judy was glad to do such a task, anything to get out and ride Luna. By the time Judy got back to the farm, visitors had arrived.
A small buggy carriage parked right outside her house, only capable of holding one or two mammals, max. Though, it all depends on their size and what mammal they might be.
Judy gives a hard kick to Luna's side, sending her into a gallop. Oh no, what does he want now? The carriage's paint job was blood red with black trim, the side painted in gold lettering: WELSON BANKING CO. Judy pulls on Luna's reins, making her come to a stop. The driver, a sheep, seemed to be asleep, his hat pulled down over his eyes and legs propped up.
Judy slides off of Luna, who was heaving with heavy breaths.
Running inside, she sees her mother talking with the two uninvited guests: Warren Welson, in a black tailored suit, with black leather shoes, his ears pinned back, turns to Judy to deliver her a smug smile; next to him was his son, Andrew Welson, wearing a similar looking suit, only in a pale gray and a black Derby hat.
Andrew, seeing Judy enter, stood up and took off his hat, wanting to appear like a modest gentleman. Andrew always seemed like a scrawny rabbit to Judy, and she could from early on see that he had a crush on her. Andrew wrings the edges of his hat,trying to get his nerves under control.
"Why, Judy Hopps," Andrew starts in such a shy manner, rocking back and forth on his toes, "It is always a pleasure to be in your presence."
"It's good to see you as well, Andrew," Judy replied. Unlike Darren, she had no feelings of being courted by Andrew or vice versa. In her eyes, he came off looking like a coward. Yet, he did seem to be the only one to hold any compassion for families in Bunny Burrow that suffered under the thumb of the Welson family, it must be the one thing Judy admired about Andrew. In a family of vultures, he was the only one who seemed to have a heart.
"Mr. Welson," Judy says, grabbing his attention, "Would you mind telling me why you have come to, once again, torment my family?"
"If you insist," Warren said, still with that smug smile on his face. Andrew sat back down, but could not help but steal a few quick glances at Judy. "We were in the middle of discussing with your mother the late payment on a loan."
"And as I was telling Mr. Welson," Judy's mother said, "We have had a late harvest. And a late harvest means a late distribution of our produce. And a late distribution of our produce means that there will be a late collection of money to pay the loan we owe, Mr. Welson."
"I hope you understand," Mr. Welson said, "That late payments on the loan could cause great suffering to you and your family."
"If I didn't know any better, I would say that sounds like a threat," glared Judy.
"No no," said Andrew in a slight panic, "We only want to bring this issue to your attention. The last thing we want is for the problem to become worse without your knowledge."
"Well, we appreciate your concern for our well being, Andrew," Judy said, wanting to be sympathetic with the only good Welson, "Shame your father lacks such concern. It's been six days since my father left for Zootopia. It should be no surprise if he returns in a few days time. Then you'll get your bloody money."
"If that is so," He packs up the papers into his black leather bag. "Then we will see you ladies in four-no, how about in three days." Warren turns to his son. "Let us make haste, we have a few more stops to make before the day's end."
Warren and his son, gather their things before heading out the door. Before Andrew leaves the Hopps' home, he turns to talk to Judy. "W-W-Well," Andrew tried to say, trying to control his nervous sputter, "It's always great to see you, Judy. I only wish the visit was under better circumstances."
Judy did not respond, upsetting Andrew a bit. Yet, gathering what little dignity he has, leaves the Hopps residents.
The next few days seem to be long and frustrating to Judy. Every morning and evening she would look down the dirt road from their house. Expecting to see her father returning from his trip. She would spend her evenings taking care of Luna as long as she could, cleaning and brushing her mane and coat. On the eighth day of her father's trip, panic and worry were building up inside her. It has never taken Pa this long to make his trip to Zootopia. Maybe he just got held up, there was that storm that came in through the North East. That could have caused the roads to be harder to travel on, she hopes.
The ninth morning, Judy runs outside to see if her father was riding down the dirt trail. Only, he wasn't. This isn't right, she thought, He's never been gone this long. Judy couldn't wait for her father to come home any longer, it was time to take matters into her own hands and bring her father back home, wherever he may be.
Judy ran to the barn, grabbing a leather saddle, she has never taken Luna on such a long trip before. Most of their excursions involved riding around Bunny Burrow making errand runs; so there was never any need to put a saddle on Luna before.
The only clothes she would be bringing were her pale blue dress, boots, and her ivory Brick hat. But there was one item she needed if she was planning on traveling the road by herself.
Judy runs inside and goes to the dining room cupboard, the noise wakes her mother. "Judy, what are you doing?" Bonnie asked, concerned.
"Somethings wrong," Judy said, not even looking at her mother. No, it's not here, she thought. Judy closes the drawer and looks up. Of course, she thought. The safest place for it to be: on top of the cupboard, so the little ones don't get a hold of it.
Reaching up on her tippy toes, Judy runs her hand across the top of the cupboard; pulls down a single barrel shotgun, one perfect for her height and stature. The weapon was to be a secret that only Bonnie knew about, for the most extreme emergencies.
"Something's wrong," Judy repeated. "I'm going to get father and bring him home." She scanned the top of the cupboard again, finding a casing of shells; She empties the entire box onto the table, scattering rounds. She grabs a handful of shells and shoves them into her pockets, and loads another into the shotgun's barrel.
"Judy," her mother starts, pleading, "Think about this, you're going to get yourself hurt."
"Mama," Judy said, "If I don't go, I don't know what might happen to Pa. I have to try." She hugs her mother. "I'll be home before you know it, promise" Judy said.
Letting go of her mother, Judy, shotgun in hand, ran outside to where Luna waitied. She jumps up and slungs her leg over Luna's saddle and tightens the leather straps on her brick so it wouldn't fly off.
"Come on girl. Let's go save Pa." With a kick from her boot, Luna sped down the dirt road.
However a certain buggy stopped her in her path, the Welson Banking buggy, pulled by two stallions and its red and black painting.
I have no time to argue over loans and payments. Still, Judy had to bring Luna to a complete stop. The door to the Welson buggy flings open revealing Andrew, to her surprise, clean and snazzy as always. He ran towards Judy, waving his hands high above his head, and the social convention held her hostage to hear him out.
"Judy!" Andrew called out. "Am I glad that you are the first Hopps I came across."
"What do you want?" Judy demanded, every second spent speaking with this nervous jittering fool, dwindling her odds of finding her father.
"I came here to collect on your payment, and it's only me," he said with glee as if a kit accomplished a task on their own. "I was even able to convince my father to give you more time. That way, your family would have the money well insure, and-"
"We don't have your money," Judy says, cutting Andrew off mid-sentence. Andrew's happy expression turns into worry confusion.
"But, but, you said your family would have the money well in hand," Andrew said, "I even convinced my father to give you an extra day to have the payment. What am I supposed to tell him when I return?"
"Tell him he will get his payment, tell him that," Judy tries to keep her anger out of her voice, "Tell him that one way or another, your father will get his... his damn payment."
Judy raises Luna's reins and starts moving past the Welson Banking buggy. "There are more important things at hand right now," said Judy. Trotting past the carriage, Judy gets Luna moving with a quick kick, racing down the path her father has taken for years.
Judy races Luna down the trail as fast as she could. Stopped only to give Luna some rest and water, or ask any travelers for sightings of her father.
By day's end, Judy came up empty. There were only a few travelers along she encountered and none of them ever seeing any rabbit that matched her father's description.
The sun's light was leaving the land and replaced by darkness. Judy needed to give Luna a break; in fact, sleep would do both of them some good, but rest was not an option. It was still a two day ride to Zootopia at most. Though, Luna was a faster traveler than Bruce could ever be. If Judy and Luna were to travel straight for Zootopia, they would make it there with more than a half-day to spare. Her father could be anywhere between where she was and Zootopia.
Judy dismounted Luna, trying to speed through the trail at night could bring harm to both of them. She rifled through her gear and pulled out a lantern. It took some adjusting, but Judy pulled it off; in one hand she held Luna's reins and the lamp, the other hand held the single barrel shotgun, lowered at her hip, but ready to use if necessary. She shivers from the cold country air. They kept themselves at a steady pace; shining the lantern in all directions. Judy walked all night, with no luck on finding her father.
By dawn, a thick fog concealed the trail, so thick that Judy could only see an inch in front of Luna. The frustration of this cost her more precious time finding her father. Nevertheless, they moved forward.
Judy must have ridden for hours and the fog had still refused to ease up. Up ahead, she could make out a shadow in the mist. She squinted, What is that?
They approach the shadow slowly. Judy raises the shotgun. The closer they got, the more Judy could identify. It was a supply wagon carriage, more importantly it was her father's wagon carriage.
Sliding off of Luna, wanting to be ready for the unexpected. Approaching the wagon she could see it no longer hadBruce hooked up.
Not paying attention, she stumbles over something large and heavy. Laying on the ground was a dead llama dressed in a heavy black fur coat. Clenched in the llama's hands was an old hunting musket. Though a ghastly sight, at least it wasn't her father.
From above, came the loud screeching "caw" of a crow, it swoops down, landing in the back of the wagon. Listening, Judy could hear the loud screeching of other birds, not only one crow then. Judy points the shotgun up into the air and fires, the loud blast sends them flying.
Fearing the worst, she jumps up to see the back of the wagon. Whatever attracted those scavengers, was something dead.
To Judy's horror, it was another dead mammal, but not her father. In fact, the dead mammal was another llama, though this one did not clutch any weapon. What was horrifying was that the left side of the llama's face was gone, blown off by some blast. The vultures and crows have eaten well, if the ripped holes in his chest and stomach were any indication.
Standing atop the wagon, Judy scans the area. The thick mist was starting to clear, giving her a better view. There were a total of five dead mammals, including the one in the back, scattered around the wagon. Empty casings littered the carriage and ground. Where do I even start?
Ejecting the fired shell and slipping another scatter bullet, Judy examined bodies. A large llama clutching a small flintlock pistol, a Jackal looked upward with a bullet hole between his eyes. The strangest of all was the coyote, it looked like it had been smashed or trampled on repeatedly. It looked like the death of these mammals, minus one, were made in quick speed and reaction. A skill something she knew her father to have. Yet, nothing told her where her father could be.
She spotted a trail of blood leading up to the rock sloops, the grass looking as if something dragged along. Up ahead appeared to be another flock of crows and vultures. Judy fires another round, scattering them.
She looks down and bursts into tears. Laying on the ground, was their horse, Bruce.
Judy found a bullet hole in his neck and another in his abdomen. The worst was that the crows and vultures made a good meal of him. The flesh ripped away from Bruce's skull and ribs. One crow or vulture had pecked out Bruce's left eye.
Kneeling down, Judy ran her hand of what was left of their draft horse, he didn't deserve such cruelty. A crow lands in front of Judy, gives a loud screech, then begins to peck at Bruce's ear, ripping a piece off.
Grabbing hold of her gun, she swings it hard at the crow, hoping to smash it. Her swing misses and the crow flies off, but not before giving a few more loud "caws." It felt as if the damn bird was mocking her grief. "Your horse is dead, caw! I ripped flesh from his ear, caw! Too bad, so sad, caw! Caw!"
Why must Death be so cruel? Even after he takes the lives of the ones we love, must he degrade them like this? Focus, drying her tears away.
The blood trail extended up toward the rocky ledge. Judy reloads the gun and follows the blood trail. The fog was still a bit thick, so she treads lightly. She calls out to her father. Nothing.
A low grunt came from the side. Judy swung around, ready to fire. She follows the grunting noises and stops when she sees a figure, lowers the gun to her side. Judy couldn't help bursting into tears again. "Oh, Papa."