Chapter 4—I'm Out of Here

Nick glanced over his shoulder. A muscular rhino guard wearing a dark blue uniform approached and lifted him into the air by the back of his shirt. "Don't you dare talk like you're gonna escape. I can send you—"

Nick pulled at his collar. "Of course you can. I believe you mean may."

"Watch your mouth," he snapped, flicking Nick's snout and putting him down. "To your cell. No more dinner for you."

Thank my lucky stars, Nick thought as he started forward. The rhino tailed him all the way to his cell, pushed him inside, and closed the door most of the way. "You may not come back out without permission. This's going on your record." He shut the door, leaving Nick in the darkness again.

"Nice going, Nick," he muttered, so softly that it came out more like mouthing than speaking. Ideas spun in his mind of escape routes. "I could…" He shook his head. "No. Or…" He paused for a moment. "That wouldn't." He went silent. His nose quivered a little, and he furrowed his eyebrows. "Is that…?" He lifted his arm and grimaced. "Man, I really need a shower."

Lightbulb.

"That's it," He laid on the bed, crossing one leg over the other.

In the Zootopian Custody Handbook, there is a list of requirements set for all jails to follow. One is a list of activities for all the inmates. He and Judy had gone over that requirements list for the upcoming jail monitoring eligibility test. One of the requirements is a shower facility. If the owner of this facility was smart enough, he would have known about the rules.

He smiled at himself. Now for the next call in, he thought.

Several minutes passed—no announcements. Another ten, then another. Finally, an announcement blared through the speaker. "Dinner has concluded. Please return to your cells. Roll call will commence in ten minutes."

Nick hung his head. Dang it. It was past dinner time. There was no way they'd be calling out now for what he wanted. He stood up and walked over to the dresser, opening the drawers. There was nothing inside. He was about to walk away when he stopped and turned back toward the dresser. There was something black wedged between the bed and the dresser. He pushed his paw through and with some effort retrieved a large card box. He glanced inside it. Instead of cards, there were a few items someone had put there. He dumped them onto the bed and rummaged through the pile.

There were twenty dollars, an employee's ID card, and a small pen. He looked inside the box again and fingered at a piece of paper. It was wedged inside fairly well, but he still managed to take it out with minimal ripping. He found the open, uncreased end of the paper and meticulously unfolded it. It was scrawled with messy handwriting.

To whoever may have found this box,

i spent six weeks in this establishment and gathered up these items, you will not last long. i am writing this as they are coming to illegally execute me for assaulting one of their employees.. please take these items and find a way to esscape.

they are coming for you

JJ Aronolds - fox

Nick set the note face down and looked down at the ground. Considering how poorly written it was, there was little doubt it was genuine. Nick couldn't help but think of someone trying to fake that note. Even if the letter was faked, Nick still had the items. Ideas stormed in his brain of what to do.

Tomorrow, he thought, I'm out of here.

Zootopia Research and Development Department, 7:37 p.m.

"Any luck?"

Judy sat in a chair across the room of the analyzation laboratory. The floors were a white tile and brightly lit by the incandescent lights in the ceiling. Q stood over a large machine, fiddling with the controls. "I don't know if I got it right." He pressed a button, and an alert popped up. "There isn't anything in it."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that all that it's showing is some useless chemical. And no, I can't pronounce it."

Judy took a breath. "Isn't there anybody who can help us?"

"Nope. They close at eight, but the chief analyzer Dan leaves half an hour early."

"So we just missed him."

"Yep." He pressed again. "Still nothing."

She tapped her foot on the ground. "Let me try." She stood up and took Q's place, then she tapped on the screen. "Well, I think I got it."

"Really?"

"Would you like to ignore the substance Zeptoni... Zepto—oh, whatever—and elaborate the results?"

He blinked a few times. "I stand corrected."

Judy smiled a little and pressed the button. A list of information came up, and she tapped the screen three times before the printer whirred and three sheets popped out. Judy took the sheets and scanned over them, eyes lowered. "Any idea what these mean?"

"They're codes—no worries, I don't understand them either. They're meant for the computer." He took them from her and ran from the room to get them processed.

A few minutes later, Q returned with the results. The machine to process the files and numbers was called a Specimen Detection Device, or SDD. Q fortunately had found a guide sitting next to the machine and worked his way through finding who the fur belonged to. It worked by taking the string of DNA code from the fur and matching it to the database.

"Will Jackrabbit?" Judy said, tracing the paper with one finger. "Member of the ZDD."

"DedSec." He smiled. "Figures."