Chapter Ninety-Seven
Affixes of Fright
A beam of faint, yellow splashed its light across the internal darkness of the lifeless, dull room; the shadows leapt and danced across the wall, and scurried deftly upon the floor as the flashlight looked about at the dark interior. "What happened to the lights? I thought Snarlov said this place had good lighting."
"I know not, Jefferson. Remain here, and I shall seek out a solution."
"Yeah, sure. Hey," Jefferson added as Leopolde moved towards the door, "don't forget to take photographs for every step you take."
"... You watch your tongue," the lion warned, turning away from his fellow Murder Investigation Officer and pacing down the stone staircase leading in. George Jefferson took a slow breath, turning his flashlight back into the darkness while the sound of Leopolde's footfalls faded.
The tiger sighed to himself, rolling his shoulders and trying to get the insulated, plastic suit he was wearing to sit comfortably. He failed and simply tried to adjust his oxygen tank to relax on his back better instead. The location wasn't contaminated and nor was the air toxic. The air from within the canister was heated, while the insulated suit did perform its function of keeping the deathly cold air of the Tundratown basement from being 'damaging'.
"Creepy damn place," he muttered, his voice muffled by the mask, "cold too. Who'd be nuts-o enough to wanna stay cooped up down here?" The tiger took a step further in the darkness, turning the light down upon the corpse which lay stiff upon the floor. "Guess there's you for a start... that wolf thing... eh, and the officer unlucky enough to be on closest callout to your little murder." His muttered speech turning to a calling, Jefferson headed towards the empty doorway, "Hey, Leo! Found anything yet?"
As though in answer, the beam-lights, which idled inset the walls, glinted into life, hence, Jefferson sighed at the convenience and flicked-off his flashlight, with a re-trace of steps towards the body of the deceased donkey upon the miserable floor. He arched down towards his level, looking over the injuries, clothes and face.
"Alright," he muttered, drawing a notepad and pencil — not an easy undertaking when one's paws were wrapped in half an inch of plastic. "Late fifties, not bad condition. Neck's been, eh... bitten? No— no, clawed completely open. 'Now, for ten points, you have three guesses at who the killer was,'" he mocked. "'Shakespeare?' 'Sorry, not him.' 'Eh, Florence Nightingale?' 'Well it's good but it's not right'. 'Eh, Teddy Roosevelt?' 'I'm sorry, George, you didn't get the star prize.' 'Ah shucks.' Let's take a look at what you could've won—'"
"What've you found, Jefferson?" Leopolde cut-in as he come down the steps, his voice being muffled by his own mask; his plastic outfit creaking as he moved.
"It's, ah," Jefferson stuttered, standing, at his interrupted play-act, "Well, Svelte here— it was 'Svelte', right?"
"Svelte is the name written in the passport the others found in the main room, yes."
"Okay. Svelte's about fifty-five, or something— an onager, I think. His neck's been torn open by some very well-maintained claws. So, given its freshness, more than likely our wolfey friend is the culprit."
"Do not call him a 'friend', Jefferson. Not even in jest. You know what he tried to do to Officer Hopps."
The tiger sobered. "She'll get her revenge on him, right?" he asked, evenly. "Banged up for the attempted rape and murder of an Officer, the murder of this donkey and there's bound to be other things that came out through his interrogation!"
"I'm not sure what the jury will decide. Given the related nature of the attack and of the wolf himself. It may go to an administrative decision exactly what is done with him. They may want him... institutionalized."
"That wolf thing? In a funny-farm?"
"I doubt a normal prison environment would be suitable."
"He's gonna be sent to Blackheath with the others, right?"
"I should expect so. They do have a maximum-security ward for the criminally insane. But in any case, we're getting off subject. Even a junior officer would be able to tell us Svelte's cause of death—"
"Leo, his neck's cut open. Even civilians would be able to figure this one out."
"— So the necessity denotes we may now turn our attention to the investigation of the rest of this establishment."
"Sure. Seems to be five rooms down here, from what I remember of the blueprints. Lot of electronical equipment in here... talking of which, how'd you get the lights...?"
"There is a fuse box on the wall just outside the hatch. It had flipped itself off."
"Flipped off?"
"Overloaded, I believe."
"Huh. Any idea what might've caused—"
"Something which must have happened directly before the raid started. You reported no activity for the entirety of the time you were watching the location. I doubt someone who was relying on mechanically-heated air to live," Leopold deducted, nodding to the body of the donkey with the air pipes extending out into the next room, "would've been happy with the electrical cut-out for a prolonged period of time."
"So," Jefferson said, "just before the raid hits, something causes the electronics to overload."
"Something directly related to the presence of the ZPD officers outside the door, no doubt."
"And it causes a power surge. Like... from a short-circuit? Like a piece of equipment getting smashed up?"
"That would appear to be a satisfactory course of deductive reasoning. I will look over these machines; you will look inside the other rooms; get an idea of what the function of this place might be."
"Eh, right." As Jefferson paced from the room, he heard the lion behind him start to pull and poke around with the various computer consoles. They appeared to be expensive pieces of equipment, though not to any extent 'new'. After the first room they had entered into — accessed via the concrete steps connecting to the clearing and the street outside — was a small, rectangular corridor. Through one doorway: a room with a table lied. George shuddered but not from the cold. His eyes focused upon the thick straps, which waited on the table with the bindings that would keep a mammal pinned in place, while stains of blood were etched upon its surface and the bleak wall nearby.
"He was a creepy old quack," Jefferson muttered, pacing to the table and touching a paw, gingerly, upon the iron buckle of one of the straps. "Guess he's the guy who fixed-up that wolf's jaw after Hopps smashed it with a hammer. Eh, heck..." He turned, slowly... his eyes fixing upon the cabinets and shelves; the tools and saws and jars of... 'floating things'…
Jefferson didn't remain in that room much longer.
...
Through the distances of weary thought, a notion came into being. From the surrounding grayness, the shell of dull nothing, which came as a barrier between reality and dreams — a wall, a cage within the limbo of thoughtlessness without vividity nor imagination — came a slow, drowsy thought. A sense. A scent in the air. An inclination of unease. The scent carried heaviness that grew stronger on the cold wind, mixing it with the essence of the salt and the rust and the dirt of the abandoned building. The disgruntling wind was blowing icy water through the cracks in the rusted, metal walls, while the scent of unease was brimming with resilience.
A sound like silk falling; as quiet as the footsteps of an avalanche, of small stones bouncing down an endless mountainside. The endless grey grew darker; shadows drew together and formed a face. It smiled... with dead, pale eyes and a gaunt, heartless grin.
It breathed slowly out, the air twisting from the noiseless voice, the scent of the breath like decay and stagnant bog water, and with a sound like the dying breaths of a repugnant fiend. It reached out its long paw and its cold touch pressed upon Judy; upon Judy's brow while she lied hunched and shivering in the darkness. His paw tightened about her and her vision was blurred by hot crimson — his claws biting into her skull, dragging scars deep and crooked.
The wolf spoke out to her, his voice drawn and harsh, "Judy... Judy—"
"Judy!"
With a flinch, the rabbit's eyes seared open to the sync of the door. Wolfard's paw jerked back, while Judy's voice rose to a thin whisper of an outcry, her gaze locked with the wolf's eyes. "Get off her", shouted a familiar voice, a sensation of motion, a weight pushing harshly against Woflard's chest.
The blur of disordered motion ended with Bonnie grabbing Billy by his coat and tugging him away from the wolf. Wolfard's confusion darted between the three rabbits, whlist holding at his midsection where the buck's heavy push had sunk in. Flo waited and watch in stillness and in silence, her expression calm, but her eyes scurrying around just as the wolf's. Judy's head inclined slowly, and she looked about at the faces gathered around her.
"Wer, wha—?" She rubbed sleepily upon her eyes, her vision misted and her thoughts slowed. When she opened them she found a wolf stood before her. Not a white, blood-stained wolf, but a wolf she knew and cared for. A friend. "Wol... Wolfard—"
"Don't worry Judy," Billy shot, "you're safe. You're protected from wolves li—ouch, Mah!"
"Oops. Sorry, sweetie," Bonnie said, releasing the buck's ear. "Judy hon," she continued with a gentler tone and turned to the bed-bound Hopps, "what's wrong, what happened?"
"There wa— it was him. Saw him. The wolf. Sp— spoke to me." Caution growing, Bonnie changed to the hare stood behind her.
At noticing the inquiry for answers, Flo removed her glasses and cleaned them upon her sleeve as she played for time to think. She repositioned them upon her small, white snout and paced, between the doe and the buck, towards Judy where she lowered herself close. "Jim," she said to the wolf behind her, without even looking at him, "what were you doing with Hopps before we came in?"
"Huh? Nothing! I wasn't doing any—"
"So what were you doing?" Flo persisted calmly.
"I... I just— she was twitching was all, kept making fists in her sleep and groaning. So I went up to her, tried to wake her."
"Tried to wake her how?"
"Just saying her name— I didn't touch her, I swear!"
"Didn't your mother teach you not to swear?" Flo joked sweetly. As the wolf rolled his eyes, the hare leaned, softly, towards the figure in the bed. "Judy, may I have your attention, please?"
It took energy but, what little focus she presently had, Judy focused it upon the hare knelt beside her. "N-Niic—?"
"Nick is away currently— I believe Chief Bogo needed to speak with him. How're you feeling?"
"Hm. Uhm-hmm?" Judy nodded, though barely moved her head. "I'm..." The words 'I'm better' faded from the rabbit's mind, a wave of tiredness wiping across her, her capacity for thought leaving her as though having leaked out to the empty expanses of her mind.
"Judy? Judy." Flo glanced to the others within the room, sighed tersely and moved in close to the rabbit's ear. "Miss Carrots."
Judy's consciousness pulled back from the empty space and managed to focus back upon the hare. "Hm?"
"What happened, before we came in? Did you hear anything? See anything?"
"Remembered. I... I remembered th— that night, when... 'all this' happened, I... it wasn't like it was, it was different."
"Different? How?"
"I heard it speak. It— 'him'… the wo— the one who..." breathing slowly, Judy steadied herself. She closed her eyes for a moment, faced up to the word and overcame it with the strength of her will. "The wolf who attacked me; who put me in here."
"He didn't speak to you before?"
"No," Hopps declared, her vision clearing and her mind picking up speed a little. "Don't think he can. No 'savage' from the reports before could speak. Jack tried to, before he..." Her movements abate and delicate, Judy shifted towards the nurse. "Jack, he... is, alive? I didn't... didn't dream that."
"He is alive, Judy."
"His con— his contit, con'judit— uh... how is he?"
"I would rather talk about you right now," Flo advised. "How vivid was what your saw? Was it like a dream, with many details which have become unclear to you now? Or was it very vivid and seemed to blend into where we are now?"
"I... was— like the second, like... fading into here and now."
"Did Wolfard trigger what you saw? In your opinion."
The rabbit switched to the wolf stood at the foot of the bed; the wolf looking back towards her, his expression soft but laced with no small amount of concern to the contents of her incoming words. "I don't— I don't know, for sure, I... I don't know."
"You seem more lucid, at present, than normal. Would you mind describing your symptoms to me?"
"Erm. Like... my paw?"
"We can start with that, yes." Nurse Flo then took Judy through a range of questions and a few short tests. She took Judy's pulse, looked into her eyes and ears, tested the nerve endings of the paw with the broken wrist and asked her about any pains in her head or down her spine.
"What about your lungs? Any trouble breathing?"
"Nh— no, jus'... have pains in… just the pains in my stom-ach." Judy winced with the closure of her eyes that didn't open after that, her breaths finding a slower rhythm.
"Pains? Around the intestinal tract, or... Judy? Miss Hopps?" Tilting her head to one side, Flo observed the rabbit's condition. "Average duration of consciousness appears to be improving," she noted to herself. "Slowly, of course. But she is recovering."
"Ehm," started Bonnie, "hey, nurse. Judy was... just, she seemed so 'not there' to start with. And then it was just like talking to our Judy again… Now she's... what happened?"
"I wouldn't like to wake her," Flo stated, turning to the door. "We can discuss this in the corridor."
"I'll stay here, Ma; make sure this wolf don't—"
"Billy, hon, I really don't think—"
"It's... fine, it's... fine." The wolf looked between the bunny and his mother, while, unnoticed, Judy's eyes pulled slowly open at hearing Billy's voice; she watched the three of them carefully as she lied upon her back in between the white sheets, but then her eyelids lowered once more. Rest, she needed... rest.
As her beating heart took the advice, the rhythms within started calming so that she partly slipped to the realm of the wakeful. Darkness grew behind her eyes, and she became only partly aware of what was happening without. There were voices, a movement of air. The air beneath the sheets was warm, soothing. She heard a door open and footsteps move away. The air smelt of disinfectant — not a natural smell, but reassuring for its attachment to 'cleanliness' at least.
The darkness behind her lowered lids growing yet further, a sense of calm began to wash over Jud—"
"Judy!"
She jolted, her peace smashed by the hammer of Billy's voice, the spike of sudden volume sending a paroxysm of hot searing down her spine. She hissed, her paws clenching, her head twisting towards the lights above as her lips pulled back, her bared teeth gritted as she sought control over the throbbing affliction.
"Hey, Judy," Billy said with a lesser voice, "you okay? I was talking but you were listening none."
"Yeah," she shot, "just a broken wrist and a fractured skull and a bruised spine, I'm fine!"
Billy stared at her blankly for a few seconds — then he smiled. "Oh, good. You know, they got foods down at the caff downstairs. I got myself a bun, and the jam in it was from the Northgate place!"
"Really?" she grunted.
"Yeh. We came over in one them taxies, cause Ma said Dad'd be needing the car for the farming. And, and, and it was too far for us to walk none, on account of Zootopia being a big place. Bigger than it looks in the pictures, don't you think? An' maps are always mislyding 'bout the size of the place."
"Hm," she sighed.
"I thought 'bout drawing up some of my own maps so I's could make 'em the right size of real life. But if I did that, there would't be no point of the map, cause it'd be the same size what it was in real life and you could just walk there. Or get a train, I guess, or—"
"Billy! Billy, please, you... don't have to talk so loud." The volume of Judy's own, distant voice was in stark contrast to Billy's own. "I'm glad you and Mom got here okay, I really am. And it's nice seeing both of you again, even if... ehm."
"Well gosh darn, Judy, it's nice seeing you 'gain to. Been a long time since we've had the chance to sit an' talk like this. How's your head now? Better yet?"
"Yeah," she dismissed, "yeah… You mentioned the Northgate place. How are things down there?"
"Oh, eh... Mister Northgate got himself another couple of combines. They've already ploughed most of their land for next season; we're still getting paws together to start ours. Gonna be a close fight this time. The Hopps' Farm'll always win out though. Ain't none farms what make 'em good as we does."
"Should have that as your slogan," Wolfard muttered, thus, a scowl formed on Billy's initials. No whispers or mutters could go around a rabbit's hearing.
Billy shifted to say something but Judy managed to create the needed interruption, "Oh, I thought you'd gone out." Her voice brightened a tone now that she knew she wasn't the only person in the room with an IQ of more than one digit.
"I'm still here, yeah," Wolfard said. "Flo's just outside the door if you need her. She's just talking to your mom about, eh... well, you. Ho— how are you, anyway?"
"She'd be better if it wasn't for y—"
"Billy, just..." Judy growled softly at her brother. "Not every predator is out to get you."
"I'm just here to protect you, Judy," the young buck reminded, earnestly. "I'm here to protect you and to protect Ma, and that's all I'm gonna do. And that wolf... and I mean that wolf, the one who did this... I don't care how darn strong he is, or how scairy. If I was there when that wolf was hunting after you or Ma..." He looked Judy straight in the eye, his amethysts locking with hers "I'd sooner die a hundred times then turn my back an' run." Judy held her attention for a moment longer, but then she changed it to the white sheets below her with a sigh and the lowering of her eyelids.
"But you only get to die once," Billy added, "I know that much for sure. Don't matter to me though, not at all. Cause family is the most important thing there is, and I ain't ever gonna let none say I didn't do everything I could to protect us. To protect my family."
Judy blinked towards the ceiling. "It's a tough place here in the city."
"Yeah, everyone barging and shouting. No patience, no time for others. Don't know what you see in this place. Life as a farmer ain't so dull."
"I just... wanted to do good, and still do. I want to do the best I can to help... to help everyone."
"Yeah, but... people are chumps. You remember them types of 'friends' I used to have back when we were young?"
"Billy, those mammals you used to hang out with... most people are nothing like them."
"They are, Judy, they are. Just replace the old school yard with a court or something, an' replace mugging a couple of loners with raping the crap out of a weaker country's resources and crap. And you've got modern politicians and politics for ya!"
"Bh, Billy," Judy started, surprised to hear Billy talking about anything on the level of global politics, "that's just the typical knee-jerk reaction to Zootopia's taxing policies. Now, we provide those 'weaker countries' a lot more than what we take through taxes. They get industry, business, healthcover, s—"
"My point is, Judy, that everyone 'out there' are just... they're mostly just in it for themselves. They selfish and crap. Not like family. Family is just family: not trying to get one over everyone else, least we shouldn't be. Just here to help our family, and we— wh, we're..."
Billy sighed and thought for a slow moment. "We... we gonna need to take over from Pa sooner or later, Judy. His health is good, but he ain't a young buck no more." Her attention spiked and she raised her expression to look upon her brother. "We're the oldest, us two. Eldest, anyhow. I teased you when we were younger and mocked you that I'd get the farm and you'd get nothin'. But I din't know what I was saying, didn't realize how much I needed family back then. Won't manage it all on me own… can't do much at all on me own."
"Billy..." Judy cleared her throat, trying to sound less 'touched' and heartfelt; reminding herself of who she was talking to and to expect jerkery in every word. "Billy, what're you getting at? You think I'm gonna just... get up out of bed and go back to the farm?"
"No, Judy, no-no, you're just... it's, you know..."
"What?"
"W-wh, wh— well it, it's..." Judy reached out her paw towards her brother and tried to keep herself from smiling at him — tried to feel as little 'affiliation' as possible to him when he stepped forwards and took her paw in his.
"Come on, Billy," she encouraged calmly; smiling softly at her brother as she looked at him through drowsy eyes, "just take a breath, it's alright." She chuckled softly and the buck followed her advice. "You're so strong and independent when there's people around," she teased. "Wonder if anybody knows how much of a little cub you are when it's just us two."
"Shud'up, Judy," he mumbled, half smiling toward her, even with a voice cracked with distress. "I'm worried is all. Don't want to say nothing to Ma none. She already worked to over her ears in stress. But, with all the Northgate stuff, an' the weather we had, and with Pa getting older and you getting 'ttacked, I... I just can't stop thinking 'bout—"
"Oh, Billy," Bonnie scorned with the opening of the door, "what're you doing pestering your sister— don't you know she needs her rest?"
"Mh, Mah, I'm just—"
"Now, I'll hear no arguments, you let her sleep."
"— yes, Mah."
Author's notes:
Hesitance jumps around your mind,
Grooms decision thus chosen blind.
Your thoughts most succulent of snack,
All delivered by luscious feedback.
So don't hide like a tiny shrew,
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