16

Nick was back on that strange and echoing dance floor. Everything looked the same. The space was still infinite in its size and yet intimate in its lighting. The floor retained its impossible shine. But this time, instead of being in the center under the spotlight, Nick stood at its edges, mingling with the shadows as he watched Judy dance. Not alone, but with someone else.

Cottontail.

The bunny held her one paw in his own, the other resting at a respectful height around her waist. And he was leading her in a sweeping waltz across the dance floor. His posture was perfect, his movements flawless, and his tux impeccable in both style and appearance.

In fact, the only hitch to the scene came from Judy, who, while determined, was not the most graceful bunny that there ever was. And Cottontail didn't have the height or strength to support her through every stumble the way Nick had. Instead of turning her occasional misstep into an impromptu lift or her faltering into a twirl, they'd both trip, or slow, somehow staying in sync even when falling out of it. Then Judy would laugh in a self-deprecating way or stammer an apology, and Cottontail would wave the moment away with a charming word or a distracting compliment and propel them onward, their steps aligned one more.

A feeling almost like grief wrapped around Nick's heart and squeezed. He wanted to go out there, cut in with a suave remark the would make Judy swoon and send Cottontail packing, but his feet felt frozen to the floor and no brilliant one-liner came to mind. He couldn't miss how happy they looked. How happy she looked. And he knew that if he went out there, he would ruin that.

I should leave.

The thought lingered, and yet so did Nick. It felt like he stood there for hours watching them dance. Unnoticed, unneeded, and worst of all the longer it went on, unmissed.

A paw dropped onto his shoulder. Nick looked over. Marty stood there next to him, as at ease as if he'd been there all along. Nick thought he should feel alarmed by that, but couldn't quite work up the energy to care.

The bunny gestured to the dancing couple. "Woken up now, have you, dumb fox? You knew it was never going to be you anyway."

Nick shrugged off the bunny's paw. "I never said it would be."

"We have to get them back."

Nick looked away. "Just leave me alone."

On the dance floor, Judy tripped, falling into Cottontail and almost sending them both tumbling. But the charming rabbit caught himself, and her, holding Judy close with a murmured, "Careful now," that raised Nick's hackles and made him understand for the first time why wolves felt the urge to howl. Especially when Judy smiled and looked away, shy and happy in a way he'd never seen before.

The paw returned to his shoulder. He'd already forgotten Marty was there, and the touch was an unwelcome intrusion into his pain.

The bunny yanked him around, forcing him to face him. "Wake up! We're running out of time here."

He gave Nick a sharp shake, snapping his head forward and back, and the motion sent a shock of piercing cold through Nick. He shuddered, fur lifting as he broke out into gooseflesh. He was freezing. He was—

"—Being an idiot! You call yourself a cop? Wake up!"

Nick tried to escape the bunny's grip, but Marty was surprisingly strong for a bunny. Probably because he wasn't a bunny at all. He was a fox. A growling, angry fox that wouldn't get out of Nick's face or stop shaking him no matter how hard Nick tried to get away. The cold was getting worse. It pervaded fur and skin and bones until Nick was shuddering from chill of it. Wind whistled around them, unfelt but heard as it whipped around the dance floor, which had gone dark during their struggling. Nick couldn't see Judy or Cottontail anymore. Just Marty, the bunny who wasn't a bunny, shouting into his face for him to—

"Wake up!"

An icy paw smacked him across the face. Nick jerked and lurched upright. Robin watched him with narrowed eyes, breathing heavy and his paw raised to smack him again. "Are you with me now?"

Nick shivered, a violent thing that shook his entire frame and made his canines click together, and nodded. He wrapped his arms around himself in an effort to find some warmth, but there was none to be had when he was already freezing. His slicker might have kept out the rain but it did nothing for the cold.

Robin, he noticed, was wearing a parka.

He took in the room. They looked to be in some kind of abandoned shack. The walls were made from sheets of metal nailed to a wood frame. They wobbled and rumbled with every gust of wind outside. One bare lightbulb hung from the ceiling, stained black from where it had burned out long ago. A furnace sat in the corner, empty except for an icy slush of ash. And everywhere, scattered over the entire room, was junk. It looked like someone had been trying to create their own indoor scrap heap. Broken poles of rebar, chunks of rotten wood, large pieces of construction equipment that had been partially dissembled and left to rust.

On a table to Nick's right were even more bits and bobs, including piles of old newspaper, yellow and crispy with age, and the leftover crusts of a half-frozen and well-aged tuna sandwich.

"Where—"

"Tundratown," said Robin. "Obviously. But where in Tundratown, I couldn't tell you."

"How far are we from the main square? Do you know?"

Robin shook his head. "Hard to say. But my guess? Far." He waved to the door before stuffing his paws back into the pockets of his coat. "See for yourself. It's not locked."

Nick picked his way over to it, careful not to catch himself on any of the jagged pieces of metal jutting out from the piles of trash.

The door was little more than a reinforced sheet of metal with a simple bolt and latch. As he reached for it, the whole shack groaned in response to the storm outside. He was already freezing. The idea of opening the door and welcoming in that icy wind, if only for a moment, was almost too intimidating to face. But he had to see.

The latched flipped up easily. Not that he had doubted Robin, but it still seemed a massive oversight on Marty's part. Even if he genuinely meant to give them a chance, surely he wouldn't make it this easy?

He slid the bolt free. The second it was disengaged, the door blasted inward with a shriek of wind and a crash of metal.

The cold was immediate and all encompassing. Nick shuddered and doubled over, hugging his arms so tight around himself it hurt. Snow swirled around him, beautiful flakes of ice that stuck to his fur and sent additional shocks of cold straight through to his skin.

Nick clenched his teeth and looked out.

White. That was all he saw. White below and white above. Only the dappled gray clouds made it possible to discern what was ground and what was sky. Snow covered every surface. It filled the very air, dancing in swirling chaos with the wind.

Nick breathed in. Thin. Very thin. And it wasn't just the cold and wind stealing away his breath. They were high up. Mountainously high.

He squinted watery eyes that were already trying to freeze shut into the raging blizzard and thought he could just make out the twinkle of lights far, far below. Impossible to gauge an exact distance, but it was clear that they were farther out than Zootopia's most remote and exclusive resorts, higher up than anyone would dare build a lift.

So that's why.

He fought to close the door, but the wind was indefatigable and had no desire to give up it's newly acquired space. Robin had to come over and help him. Together they managed to force the door back into position. Nick slammed home the bolt.

They stepped away, both shivering and breathing hard. They shared a look.

"The Corsacs?" asked Nick.

Robin led him back the way they'd come, around a corner so cloaked in shadow Nick hadn't noticed it initially. It was barely more than a niche set into the wall, with an old wooden trestle table shoved against it. And under it, bundled in a pile of winter wear, were the Corsacs.

They were all snuggled together, only their faces visible under all the layers. Marian and Reynard stirred at their approach. Only Todd remained still, cuddled between his siblings, his breathing strained and his gaze half-focused.

"Are y-you here to arrest us?" asked Marian.

Nick didn't like it, the guilt he felt then. He tried to dredge up some of his previous anger to combat it. These foxes might be victims, but they are also responsible for kidnapping Judy and almost getting her killed.

But as he took in their drawn faces and the fine, constant tremors that shook them, all he could muster up was a frustrated sort of pity.

"Actually," he told them, "I came to save you."

"Arrest or s-save, they're close enough at th-this point," said Reynard.

"Please tell me you have a brilliant escape plan," said Robin.

"I might," said Nick. Adding after a moment, "Eventually."

"What about backup?"

Nick checked his pockets. He pulled out the plastic carrot, relieved to find he still had it. But it was impossible to tell if it was still working, or if they were still in range, or if Judy was using it to look for him.

"P-please tell me that's n-not your backup," said Reynard.

Nick tucked the carrot away. "All right. It's not."

Reynard groaned. Nick wasn't sure if it was in response to him or the cold.

"I'm positive someone will come looking for us," said Nick. "The more concerning question is when."

"We can't wait around," said Robin. Dropping his voice he added just to Nick, "We have to get them back. Soon."

Nick couldn't help but agree with that assessment. Marian and Todd especially weren't looking well. They needed heat, liquids, and rest, in that order.

Robin took Nick by the arm and tugged him away. In a lower voice he said, "Do you really have no other plan than to wait around and hope someone finds us in time?"

"Hey, it was a bit spur of the moment, coming here. I didn't exactly have time to write up a detailed rescue mission," defended Nick. "And I don't want to hear it from the fox who did the exact same thing."

Robin's ears drooped. "I left a note."

"Yeah, that your little sister almost got killed protecting."

Robin looked up, expression horrified. "What? Is she okay? What happened? Did she—"

"She's fine," said Nick. "Not even a scratch. They should teach self-defense archery in school."

Robin nodded, but it was in a distracted, worried sort of way. "Good. That's… good."

"Yeah."

Robin rubbed his chin, lost in thought. Nick wrapped his arms around himself and tried to will warmth into his body. Too much longer and they were going to have to join the Corsacs under the pile of clothes.

"How long have you been awake?" Nick asked.

"Hm?" said Robin. "Oh, not long. In fact, you were already here when I woke up, so I wasn't sure who had gotten here first. But Marian and Reynard were both awake when Marty dragged us in, and they said it was a difference of a few hours, so…"

"He came back twice, and they didn't try and fight him or anything?"

"They were tied up." Robin waved to a frayed pile of rope tangled up in the corner. "That was the first thing I did when I woke up. Then I checked around, while I waited for you to wake up."

"You call that waiting?" said Nick. His cheeks still stung from where the fox had struck him.

Robin gave him the hint of a smile. "Sorry. But time was ticking, you know?"

"Yeah," said Nick somberly. "I know. Did you happen to see Marty?"

Robin's eyes went hard. "No."

Nick looked around. "I wonder how that bunny managed to get all of us up here."

"Actually," said Robin, "I have a theory about that."

"Really?"

"Yes. I'll show you." He eyed Nick's outfit. "But first we need to get you into some better clothes."

He returned to the Corsacs. Crouching down he spoke softly to Marian. Reynard, who was listening, looked from him to Nick then back again. Marian nodded. Together, she and Robin untangled a few pieces of winter clothes from the bundle. Nick noticed that Robin was careful not to take anything directly covering Marian or her brothers.

He returned and handed the pieces to Nick. "Here."

"Thanks." Nick put them on, zipping his rain slicker over all of it. It might not be insulated, but it would keep what he had from getting wet.

"Where did you find so many clothes?" asked Nick.

Robin shrugged. "Marian says they were there when they woke up."

Nick fingered the scarf now wrapped snugly around his neck and wondered. Unlike all the other junk in the shack, the clothes didn't appear to be forgotten cast-offs. They were unworn, clean, possibly brand new, and the sizes were almost exact.

When Nick pointed this out, Robin nodded. "I also found it strange that I wasn't tied up. Nor were you."

Nick thought. "Marty gave me this big spiel about saving the Corsacs. He mentioned he gave you the same?"

"He did."

At Nick's thoughtful silence, Robin snorted. "You don't think he meant it?"

Instead of answering, Nick said, "You wanted to show me something?"

Robin led him outside. Despite being marginally better prepared for it this time, Nick still cringed as the first blast of cold hit him.

Robin led him around the side of building. Here, with the shack as a windbreak, the temperature was almost tolerable. Robin pointed to two dark parallel lines peaking out of the snow.

"Are those tram rails?" asked Nick.

Robin nodded.

"But I don't remember ever hearing about a bunny tram line coming up this way."

"That because there isn't one," said Robin. "They either go around or under Tundratown's mountains. But I remember my great-grandparents talking about how they used to use trains to haul building supplies and whatever other natural materials where they needed to in order to build Zootopia's landscapes. I think this might be what's leftover from that."

"It's that old?" Nick looked back at the shack. "Then whatever you do, don't eat that tuna sandwich."

Robin barked out a laugh, the sound of which was snatched away by the storm. "I'll try and restrain myself." He patted Nick's chest. "This way. I have something else to show you."

They followed the railway back. It was slow going. Without the building to shelter them, they had to contend with the full brunt of the storm's rage. Nick made sure to keep Robin close and stick to the rail's crossties. If it weren't for that, finding their way to anywhere, even back to the shack, would have been impossible. Visibility was next to zero. They could have been headed right for a fissure and not even known it until they were falling in.

"You actually came out this way all by yourself?" said Nick. He had to yell just to be heard over the storm. Wind buffeted them. Robin hunkered lower and pushed forward, Nick following.

"I wanted to see if I could find anything that might useful. What if we were only yards from help and didn't even know it because of the storm?"

"But if something had happened to you there would have been no way to know," said Nick.

"Why do you think I let you sleep?" said Robin. "If something happened to me, I knew you'd still be there. Marian, Todd, Reynard, they'd still have a chance." He threw Nick a sudden grin over his shoulder. Snowflakes stuck to his canines and melted there. "Even if it was an unplanned chance."

Nick refused to be amused.

Something large and dark loomed ahead of them, appearing out of the swirling snow like a giant's shadow. Though it was crazy to imagine, Nick's first thought was that they had stumbled upon a stranded elephant.

"What is that?" said Nick.

Robin's answer was drowned out by a screech of wind. Giving up, he gestured for them to continue forward.

The darkness ahead of them grew and deepened, the tracks making a straight path for it and disappearing inside.

Not an elephant, after all. A cave.

Robin and Nick stepped inside, brushing snow from their coats. The ceiling towered over the foxes, icicles suspended in deadly wait.

Robin followed the tracks back. It wasn't a very deep cave. It ended at a solid wall not twenty feet in. But it wasn't the wall they had come to see. On the last stretch of tracks sat the strangest vehicle Nick had ever seen. It almost look like the bed of a truck without the cab—low sides, no top. It sat low on the tracks, four dented wheels with a connecting crank on one side that might have been an emergency brake.

There was a small bucket seat in front. Nick inspected the controls. No wheel, just several buttons and two levers, one labeled with a F-N-R, the other 0-20mph.

"Don't get excited," said Robin. "It doesn't work. But I think Marty might have used one that did, or something similar to it, in order to get us here."

"There are a bunch of tools and equipment in that shack," mused Nick. "Think we might be able to use any of it to fix this?"

Robin raised an eyebrow. "Possibly. But unless you're a secret technician on top of being a hustler and a cop…"

"Former hustler," corrected Nick. "But point taken. So I guess fixing vehicles isn't covered under your job description of philanthropist either then?"

Robin was unruffled. "Unfortunately. But if we survive I might think about adding it to the list."

"You do that."

Nick climbed into the driver's seat. He tried pressing some buttons, and when nothing happened he smacked it. "Nothing."

"You mean hitting it didn't magically fix it?" said Robin. "I'm shocked."

Robin scowled at him. Grabbing one of the levers, he yanked it into neutral. There was a grinding noise and then a click. The vehicle wobbled under him.

"Well, there's no way we can carry the Corsacs all the way to town," he said, hopping out and going around to the back. "But maybe between the two of us it'll be possible to push it."

"Push it?"

Nick gave the back of the vehicle a tentative shove. The wheels rocked along the track. "Yeah. I think it'll work."

"You're joking," said Robin. "This is your plan?"

"Once we get it going, it should be similar to riding a bike. As long as we can keep up momentum… And we should be going downhill most of the way…"

"A bike," said Robin. "This is nothing like riding a bike."

"You got any other ideas?" asked Nick, cupping his paws together and huffing into them. His paws had been half numb even before touching the frozen metal.

"Unfortunately, I can't say that I do." Robin looked at the vehicle and then at Nick. "There's something else, though."

"Is there?" Breathing wasn't working. Nick tried rubbing his paws together.

"I can tell there's something bothering you that you're not saying. What is it?"

Rubbing wasn't working either. "Right now, there are a lot of things that are bothering me," he said. "We really don't have time to run through them all."

He clapped his paws together, both to change the subject and to try and force some feeling back into them. "How about a test run?" he said. "We can push this back, see if we can even make it that far. That way if it works, and we decide to do it, we won't have to make a second trip out here to collect it."

"If only the rest of your idea sounded so reasonable," said Robin, but he joined Nick at the back of the strange cart vehicle, and together they braced to push.

"Ready?" asked Nick, and at Robin's nod, said, "On three."

"Three," said Robin.

They both shoved. The cart resisted for one muscle-straining moment, and then gave, rolling forward with much creaking and groaning but smooth despite all that.

They pushed it out of the cave, and even with the wind blowing against them it wasn't unmanageable. The cart blocked the worst of the wind from striking them directly, and Nick was right that once they got it moving it took very little effort to keep it in motion.

They brought it to a stop outside the shack and hurried inside. Nick couldn't feel his nose or his paws anymore, and he was distressed at how little difference there was in temperature between inside the shack and outside. It was like a thermic illusion. The sudden absence of wind and snow made it seem warmer, but really, the only difference was wind chill. The room was still below freezing.

Only Reynard was awake when they rejoined the Corsacs. Marian was sleeping fitfully against him, Todd no more than a curled up lump in his lap.

"How are you?" Nick asked Reynard.

"I s-stopped feeling my tail two hours ago," said Reynard. "So, not great. I don't sup-suppose your plastic carrot brought backup y-yet?"

"Not yet," said Nick.

"Well if you could maybe t-tell it to hurry? Because Todd's not d-doing so great either, and I like him even more than my t-tail, if you get what I mean."

Nick did.

"Have you—" Reynard stopped.

"Have I what?" asked Nick.

"It's j-just… Craven. We haven't really been able to… is he doing okay? We heard he was found, but not w-whether…"

"He's still in the hospital," said Nick. "He hasn't woken up yet. But the doctors are optimistic." Maybe they were. Nick hadn't spoken to them directly.

Reynard leaned his head back and closed his eyes. "You're lying. You're j-just trying to make me feel better. We r-really must be screwed."

"Don't count us out just yet. Robin and I have thought of an idea—"

Robin crouched down next to them. "Don't feel obligated to share credit now. I give it all to you."

"Generous."

"It's what I do."

He reached out to Marian, his teasing air fading into concern. "Marian, my darling, I need you to wake up now."

He gave her gentle shake. Marian whimpered and tried to burrow further against Reynard. Robin persisted.

"Come on. Open those beautiful eyes for me, sweetheart. You can do it."

Dark lashes fluttered open and met his own. "R-Robin?"

"That's right. I'm here."

Tears welled. "I'm so c-cold, Robin. I'm so tired and cold."

"I know, darling. We're working on it now."

"A-are we?" asked Reynard.

Robin sighed. "Nick does have a plan. Of sorts."

"And on that fantastic introduction…" Nick sat back. "Basically, we have two options. We can either wait here and hope that my partner and the ZPD find us in time, or we can try and save ourselves."

"S-save ourselves how?" asked Reynard.

"Robin found transportation. It's not ideal, but it just might get us to help before we all freeze to death. But it will be a risky trip. There are a lot of things that could go wrong that we won't be able to anticipate—"

"W-whereas if we stay, there's only one way things could g-go wrong," said Reynard. "Wonderful."

"We can't stay," said Marian. It was barely above a whisper. Everyone looked at her. Her gaze fell to the unmoving lump that was Todd.

"Then we go," said Nick. "Simple as that."

No one looked particularly relieved by the decision.

"If I could have a word with you?" said Robin.

Nick followed him away.

"Tell me what's bothering you," said Robin.

"This again?" said Nick. "I told you—"

"And I don't believe you. Now, you can't get Marian and Todd and Reynard out of here without my help, and I'm not going anywhere until I know what you're not telling me."

"It's nothing," said Nick. At Robin's look, he said, "Fine. It's not nothing. But it's not anything you need to know. It doesn't change what we have to do."

"Then you shouldn't mind filling me in."

Nick gritted his teeth around a growl. "Fine. You want to know what's bothering me so badly? That we weren't tied up when we got here. That's what's botching me. That we were left coats, and possibly even that terrible bit of transport. Almost like Marty wanted us to leave."

"So maybe he really is giving us a chance?" said Robin. "Is that what you're getting at?"

"Or at least the illusion of one," muttered Nick.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Think about it. The Corsacs are wanted criminals right now. Supposedly kidnapped. But if they're found dead here, or anywhere out there, unrestrained, dressed for the weather, on the move, hale besides that deadly bit of hypothermia they've got, everyone is going to think they ran. That they weren't kidnapped after all. That they were evading the police and just too dumb or unlucky to make it."

"But with you and I with them…"

"You mean Marian's ex and a newbie cop? Both of whom are also foxes? They'll just think we teamed up. You'll be the gullible boyfriend who couldn't let go and I'll be the crooked cop who chose his own kind over justice. The story practically writes itself."

Robin, who had been rubbing his forehead as if Nick was giving him a headache, dropped his paw. "You're right. It is bothersome. And it doesn't change anything. It's not like I'm going to tie Marian and her brothers back up and leave them for dead just so the world will know they were victims. I'd rather they'd live as criminals."

"Well, hopefully we'll all live long enough to prove them wrong," said Nick.

Robin looked at him. "All of us? The last time we spoke, you didn't seem too sympathetic about what happened to Marian or her brothers."

"Really? You're going to waste time getting on me about that now?" said Nick. "Look, I'm not saying they don't have a lot to answer for. But I'll admit I was wrong to write them off. Even a fox can be wrong once in a while."

Robin smiled at that, but then he sobered again. "You're partner. Judy."

Just the mention of her name sent all sorts of thoughts and feelings zinging through Nick. Guilt and worry. Longing. Watching Robin with Marian was difficult in more than one way.

Nick looked at the other fox warily. "What about Judy?"

"If something happened to us, and Zootopia thought we're guilty, what would she do?"

Nick thought about it, feeling both proud and pained as he said, "She would try everything she could to prove we were innocent. She'd never give up."

Robin nodded as if he'd suspected as much. "Then we will try too," he said. "Try anything. Isn't that how the song goes?"

Nick groaned. "Figures I'd get stuck on top of a frozen mountain with a Gazelle fan. And here I thought our circumstances couldn't get any worse. If you start singing, I won't be held accountable if you somehow fall into a fissure."

Robin laughed and clapped him on the back. "Don't worry. I'm more a bluegrass fan myself."

"You're not making it better." But if the fox was feeling optimistic enough to tease, then maybe things weren't as dire as they felt. Or maybe Nick wasn't the only one who was skilled at putting on a false front.

Either way, two could play the game. So Nick slapped on his cockiest smile and rejoined the other foxes. They had a rescue to plan for themselves.