The ceaseless growl of a car engine rose up in Benjamin's ears, along with a throbbing headache from the tranquilizer, when the cheetah came round in the boot of Cunninghorn's stolen car.
He only knew he was awake because he could feel himself blinking. Not only that, he could feel duct tape across his mouth, and more holding his paws behind him. With that, the memories of what happened at the old jeweler's came rushing back.
Oh God… Oh God…
He pulled against the tape, but he may as well have been bound with steel chains. He had no idea if he was facing the back or the front. Was Bogo okay? Was Commissioner Elba still alive? Who was that feline in the blue hoodie? Where was the car going? What was Cunninghorn planning to do to him? Benjamin had no answer to any of those questions, only imaginations that sent him on the verge of a full-blown panic.
The car was moving at a steady pace- moving upwards. Benjamin could feel the floor of the trunk tilting beneath him, pressing his hip against some painfully protruding thing. The trunk was cold. Was he still in the Nocturnal District? Tundratown? The Meadowlands? Was he in Zootopia at all?
Benjamin stopped struggling when he felt the car slow to a stop. The engine made a brief clanking sound and fell silent. The car trembled when the driver climbed out and slammed the door shut. Benjamin shook with terror as he heard heavy footsteps crunching toward the trunk. With a clunk, the trunk lid rose to reveal Cunninghorn's hateful scowl.
"Ah, you're awake." The rhino growled. "Now I won't have to drag your flabby ass."
He reached in and grabbed Benjamin, his hoof still bloody from where that mysterious feline had stabbed him, and hauled the cheetah from the car. The first thing Benjamin saw was trees. Most of them were fir trees, tall and pointed like spires. They were no numerous and densely packed it was like looking at a wall, silhouetted almost pure black against the backdrop of night. The dirt path, patterned with Cunninghorn's tire tracks, looked bright and dry in the glow from the car's taillights. Benjamin was sure he'd been thrown into a van in the seconds before he'd fallen completely unconscious. The rhino winced and cursed the feline who had injured his hoof, grabbed Benjamin's arm painfully with his other hoof, and dragged him around to the front of the car. Benjamin gasped softly behind the tape.
Finnick had told him about this place the day he'd had his mandatory appointment with the late Dr. Lemming. "Who does he think he is, Dr. Fucking Frill?" Finnick had raged upon returning from the office. "I ain't going to no asylum! No Mount Founder's, no Cliffside, no nothin'!"
The car had stopped beside a stone block covered in moss, and engraved were the words MOUNT FOUNDER'S ASYLUM. Something brown and faded was splattered across the M and O letters, and something had gouged several deep gashes through the rest of the word. Benjamin took in the asylum itself as Cunninghorn dragged him forward. It was a huge building that looked to have been built in the nineteen-sixties, two stories tall and as wide as a football stadium. It was also situated on the other side of a ragged chasm, the result of a phenomenon that thousands of years ago had cut Founder's mountain almost in two. The upper part of the mountain loomed in the distance behind the asylum, the summit faded into the night sky. The dry path crunched beneath their feet as they approached the guardhouse at the end of the bridge that crossed the chasm. Benjamin could faintly hear the river down below and the rustling of the tree round him, but guardhouse itself was quiet.
"Why the hell are the lights out?" Cunninghorn growled when he saw how dark the little building was. He brought Benjamin with him as he stormed up to the guardhouse and stared through the window. It appeared to be empty. Cunninghorn looked at the boom barrier that block vehicle access to the bridge. "I gotta do everything myself, huh?" He returned to the car, shoved Benjamin into the backseat and locked him inside while he looked for a way to raise the barrier. Benjamin stared up at the car's ceiling, praying for a miracle to get him out of this horrible mess, until he heard the barrier rise. Instead of getting him out, Cunninghorn climbed into the front seat and got the car moving. For a while Benjamin saw nothing but stars through the windows as they crossed the bridge, then he saw spiraled barbed wire atop fences of metal bars. Cunninghorn got out the car, got Benjamin out as well, and dragged him up to the wide metal gate. Through the bars Benjamin saw a concrete courtyard bordered by overgrown hedges on both sides, and directly across, the main entrance. Cunninghorn glared at the intercom next to the gate, and waited. Then he drew his handgun, gripped it by the barrel, and started striking the bars with loud clangs. "Hey!" He shouted at the silent building. "Hello? I've got a new lab rat for the doc here! It's the pred that saw Woolton without his wolf disguise!"
Nothing. Not even a peep from the intercom. "Hey!" Cunninghorn shouted and whacked the bars again. "I stole a van, a car, and punched my boss to get this chomper! The least you could do is pick up the fucking phone!" He kicked the gate hard enough to rattle the barbed wire and he didn't get a response. He swore again. "Stupid thing must be broke for real. Come on, lardass. We're going round the back."
For a few seconds before the rhino dragged him back to the car, Benjamin spied another guardhouse on the other side, so close to the left wall that Cunninghorn didn't appear to have spotted it himself. From what little the cheetah could see, the lights in that guardhouse were also out… as was one of the windows, which lay in frosted pieces beneath the frame.
Benjamin was thrown into the back once more as Cunninghorn brought the car down the narrow tarmac road that ran around the building. Eventually the brick walls became chain link fences, and when the car stopped it was surrounded by them. Cunninghorn pulled Benjamin from the car and into a small square yard. One wire fence separated them from the edge of the chasm; the other side was so dark it was like staring at the edge of existence. Cunninghorn threatened to break his arms if he didn't remain beside the car while the rhino went to close a heavy looking gate that marked the transition from fence to brick. He couldn't reach the bolt from his side, so he left the gate without locking it. He grabbed Benjamin and strode to the door that was built into the side of the building and struck it with his fist. "Hey! Anyone home? I need to talk to Dr. Slothfeld!"
Benjamin stared up at the rhino and feared what the rhino would do if this Dr. Slothfeld ignored him any longer. Cunninghorn was definitely starting to get ticked. Benjamin could feel in the way his hoof tightened around his arm like a thumbscrew. At this point he wouldn't have dared to make a sound even if he wasn't gagged. Cunninghorn muttered violent things under his breath and tried to open the door. Turning out to be unlocked, it opened to reveal large, dimly lit storeroom.
"Sunavabitch!" Cunninghorn whirled round and took out his mounting frustration on the only thing in his reach- Benjamin's face. The cheetah hit the ground hard, tasted blood, and fought not to pass out as Cunninghorn stood over him, muttering under his breath.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck! Okay, calm down, Frankie… you just picked the wrong door, that's all… gotta find the right one…" He hauled Benjamin to his feet and set off down the fenced passageway. They went round a corner and into another small yard which had two doors. One was built into the building, and the other was built in the fence separating them from the dark forest on this side of the chasm, and the mountain summit beyond that. Cunninghorn went to the building door, raised his hoof to touch the intercom beside it, and stopped.
Splattered over the intercom and brick was a faded dark brown substance, just like what was staining the stone sign back at the bridge. A breeze passed Benjamin's face, and his nose caught a whiff of old, rotted dried blood.
It was at that point that the desperate Cunninghorn could no longer deny that something was horribly wrong, and Benjamin could feel his own fear growing closer to fever-pitch. Without a word the rhino pulled out his gun and dragged Benjamin back down the passageway. When they were back at the car, Cunninghorn looked at the dashboard.
"Where the fuck is my key?" He snarled. He searched himself, just to make sure he hadn't brought it with him, then went into proceed-with-caution mode. He scanned the immediate area for threats, looked inside and around the car, and finally checked the storeroom he'd mistakenly knocked on. When he saw the storeroom was clear of threats, and anything that could be used to cut duct tape, he shoved Benjamin inside. "You keep quiet, fatcat." He shut the door behind him.
When Benjamin didn't hear the door lock, he debated with himself for a moment. Should he try to escape now, or go along with what his captor wanted? He remembered walking into that penthouse and finding Bogo half-dead on the floor with a slit throat. He felt a stirring of hatred, true hatred in his gut, and decided the time had come to get out of this awful duct tape.
Cunninghorn, the most extreme pred-hater Benjamin had ever met, had forgotten one very important thing; most of said preds had claws. With the rhino no longer around to catch him in the act, Benjamin got to work. It hurt like heck to twist his paws just enough to reach the tape around his wrists, but he managed. His shoulders ached as he brought his paws back to his front and remove the gag, allowing him to spit out the blood that had been collecting in his mouth since Cunninghorn had struck him. "You hit like a girl." He muttered after wiping his face. He looked around the storeroom; aside from crates and shelves, he saw a forklift, bottles of weed-killer, bug spray and other small products the asylum staff would need to keep the forest from creeping back in and reclaiming the grounds. Benjamin glanced at the door, but didn't hear any sign of Cunninghorn coming back, and walked to the shelves holding the sprays. Benjamin picked up a spray bottle of insect repellent. It wasn't rhino repellent, but it would do.
His plan was stupid, but simple. Wait by the door until Cunninghorn comes back, spray his eyes the second he shows his face, and run. Get back across the bridge, take off down the road, and hope that it was a straight shot back to the city.
Benjamin sprayed once to make sure it was full, and turned back toward the door.
Gunfire, sharp and rapid and coming from the door, froze him in place. In the midst of the spurting of bullets there was another sound that was either the car revving or a guttural roar of fury. More gunfire, then the sound died away with a sharp shriek of pain.
Benjamin stared at the door, paw tight around the spray bottle. "Cunninghorn?" He whispered.
He listened, but he heard nothing more. He tentatively stepped toward the door, holding the repellent in both paws like a real gun. His lip quivered as he contemplated leaving the storeroom. He put a paw on the wide flat handle and hesitated one more time. He debated with himself until he agreed that he couldn't stay here, or the mammals that resided in this terrible place would find him for sure. He pulled the door open a crack and peeked through. He saw nothing through the gap, and heard nothing but the sound of the river at the bottom of the chasm.
Benjamin stepped out and looked around the fenced yard. The understanding that he was alone brought him little relief, especially when he saw the shattered window on the car, and blood spattered on the ground among the little jagged balls of glass. The cheetah took four steps forward and jumped at a sudden crackle coming from behind the car. Then he heard whispering, muted and coming from the same direction. It didn't sound like Cunninghorn, but Benjamin had no intention of getting any closer and seeing who it was. He aimed the quivering bug repellent at the car and started toward the heavy gate, moving around the car and avoiding the glass and blood. For some reason he imagined Carlton Woolton behind the vehicle, blood spurting and bubbling from the ragged remains of his throat as Sedor pinned him down, muttering to himself as he watched the ram die.
Benjamin was almost to the gate when he saw the source of the whispering- a police radio lying on the ground beside something small and rectangular. "Oh, thank goodness." He said softly, relief flooding through him, and walked over to the device. On closer inspection the other object turned out to be Cunninghorn's empty gun. Ammo casings lay on the ground, more than a dozen of them. Benjamin pocketed the gun and picked up the noisy radio, which didn't seem to have a very good signal. From what little he could hear through the crackling, someone was calling to 'all units' about Nick Wilde and a police officer missing in action. Benjamin felt a jolt at Nick's name. "Hello? Hello, can you hear me?" The officer speaking didn't seem to hear him. "How the heck do you use this thing?" Benjamin started pressing buttons, when a crunching thud shook the ground behind him.
Benjamin spun round, crackling radio in paw, and stared at the wall of black that had sudden dropped down between him and the gate. He blinked, and the wall turned out to be a hulking beast in a black coat, black hat, and bone-colored plague doctor mask.
Oh shit.
Sedor Valentino brought into view a massive cleaver coated in red and brown, the sight freezing Benjamin like a deer in headlights. Then the massive bear stiffened and made a startled snort behind the mask. Almost as if he was surprised to see him. Then the moment passed and the bear lunged at him.
Benjamin cried in terror, raised the repellent and started spraying. The irritating chemicals didn't reach Sedor's eyes, but covered the lenses enough to send the great grizzly reeling. Benjamin didn't wait for him to recover his sight. He spun and ran.
Halfway down the passage he heard thundering crunching footsteps rapidly gaining on him. He turned his head. He caught glimpse of Sedor charging at him on all fours. He ran faster. His lungs protested. He reached the wire door at the end of the passage and hit it with all the momentum he'd mustered. Thank God it opened! His momentum pivoted him all the way to the other side of the door and he slammed it shut right as Sedor reached him. The wire door pulsed inward from the blow, bashing the cheetah to the ground. Feeling bruised all over and tasting fresh blood in his mouth, Benjamin scrambled to his feet and ran to the heavy gate opposite the door. It was identical to the other gate, except it had hoop handles instead of a bolt. He pushed it open with a screech and glanced at Sedor. His heart skipped a beat when he saw that a trio of wolves in motorcycle helmets had joined him in tearing the wire from its frame. Benjamin leaped onto the dark grass clearing where the fence lights didn't shine, pushed the gate shut and pulled at the bolt. Compared to the other gate it was rusted and stiff from lack of use. There was a crash as Sedor and the wolves ripped the wire to the ground, giving the cheetah the adrenaline surge needed to yank the bolt into place. For good measure he pulled out the useless gun and pushed in into the rectangular hook handles beneath the bolt. Thick metal spikes lined both the top of the fence and the top of the brick wall bordering the asylum's grounds. Please, please, God, please let it be enough.
He backed away, hyperventilating, as the wolves stepped over the remains of the fence and approached the gate. They tried to squeeze their arms through the bars to release the bolt and gun to no avail. Then Sedor pushed them aside and rammed the gate with the force of a truck. Benjamin shuddered with each blow. When the gate didn't give, the great masked bear roared in rage, an infernal scream that reduced the feline to tears, then stormed out of sight, leaving the wolves to struggle to reach the bolt. Benjamin was not relieved to see him give up. He would return. He always did. Why couldn't Benji have listened to Pottermass and stayed away from the back area?
Benjamin turned tail and staggered into the dark forest of Founder's Mountain. This was a dream. It had to be. Not even Honey could believe in this. But when was he going to wake up?
