Chapter 5

Judy

When Judy arrived to the police station, the place was humming with activity, filled with reporters that pestered every police officer in the area to answer them about what had happened. There were some ambulances carrying those who had stayed into the ZPD that night, and the bunny was relieved when she saw that Clawhauser and the panther officer (even when she barely knew the second one) seemed undamaged. Unfortunately, on the other hand, Wolford and Fangmeyer didn't look like they were fine, the first wolf bruised and bleeding profusely from his arm, still immobile, and the white wolf presenting a much worse sight, his head swollen and his nose bleeding, his eyes closed and shaking in the stretcher.

Bogo was there, speaking heatedly with a deer Judy didn't recognized. She hadn't see him ever, so he probably belonged to the administration department, since she never set foot in there. As soon as the buffalo saw the rabbit, he beckoned her. When she called her, he knew already, as they officers that had to left returned at about 2:10 and found the ZPD immersed in darkness, his officers unconscious and the deer hidden under a desk, not daring to get out after overhearing the fight between Wolford and Growlson.

They both walked to his office. She felt like a failure. If she had been at home, if she had taken her phone with her, she would have been informed of the things Finnick told her much earlier, which would have meant that she would have been able to draw conclusions before the jailbreak took place. But now, it was late, Nick had taken what he had been looking for, Fangmeyer and Wolford were wounded; just because she couldn't get over the fact that her friend had fooled them all. The chief waited quietly while the bunny told him all the information she could remember from her conversation with Finnick, not mentioning the personal pieces of their chat, of course. When she brought up the Nighthowlers, the atmosphere got heavy.

"We won't be able to find out anything more until Wolford and the rest wake up from the traquilizer dart they took," said Bogo, "which could take a bit more in Fangmeyer's case."

He left his seat and approached the window in his office, looking through the glass with his paws behind his back.

"We found him in front of Wilde's cell, unconscious, after we fixed the energy supply," he grunted, "he didn't look well down there, and the guys in the ambulance thought the same. We police officers and they know nothing about medicine, but we can see when someone is fighting for his life. And Fangmeyer is."

Judy lost her words. She feared the worst.

"Yes, Hopps, it was him. Wilde," he ended.

Something was breaking inside her. It was impossible that Nick, her Nick, was able to kill a friend or anyone. She couldn't breathe, anguish choked her, her chest burned, she—

He put his hand on her shoulder.

"A worker was hidden. He heard a fight between the intruder and Wolford. The first one, addressed by Wilde as `Growlson´, apparently was about to finish off Wolford but Wilde stopped him, stating that killing must be avoided, so we can suppose Fangmeyer's condition was an accident."

Judy calmed down noticeably. There was still hope, her partner saver Wolford, he was no murderer.

"Sir, I—," started the bunny.

"You nothing, Hopps. Go home," Bogo stared at her, letting her know that he would not admit an argument about that last order, "After fixing up this building and my officers, we are going to start an investigation, and if there is one mammal that has had experience with Nighthowlers and Wilde, I want her leading it. But I need her fresh and emotionally stable, understood?"

She nodded.

"Good. Also, I guess that Wilde's friend won't help us anymore," he sighed. "But try to convince him to, if not, tell Deerrick—the deer I was talking to when you arrived— where we can find him. If you don't know, tell him his features and we will try to find that fennec. And don't speak about the Nighthowlers to anyone, we don't want the whole city panicking."

She nodded again, still nervous, and started to go over the door.. She had to find Nick, at all cost.

"And Hopps," his voice stopped her, "I know that you feel a deep-rooted attachment to Wilde, so you better hold those reservations off or I will get you out of this case until we end. Wilde maybe isn't a murderer, but he is a traitor, so keep your cool."

He watched her when she got out of the room after a short nod. Finally alone for the first time since he had arrived to the police station, the buffalo fell in his chair with a hoof on his forehead. "Another press conference in less than four hours," Bogo thought, "that damned fox is going to kill me."

Nick

"Good morning, Zootopia," the well-known face of the presenter of the morning news started like that the first program of the day. "Today, this city has woken up shocked. Even though yesterday we received a hugely unpleasant surprise when Nicholas Wilde, first fox to join the police and savior of the city during the Nighthowlers case, was arrested under horrifying charges, we watched in a bigger astonishment his escape in the small hours after less than 24 hours behind bars. Chief Bogo told us more during the press conference earlier this morning."

The buffalo appeared on the screen, looking more annoyed than ever, but also terribly exhausted, and Nick could bet that it wasn't because of his lack of sleep. Every journalist in the room tried to get their own questions asked, but Bogo refused to talk until everyone of them stayed quiet, which calmed things down pretty quickly. He cleared his throat.

"A few hours ago, Nicholas Wilde remained as a prisoner into one of the provisional cells placed into the ZPD. About 1:34 the police station was flooded with automatic theft warnings from seventeen different jeweler's situated all over the city. Every single one was false, and were activated by someone remotely. This worked as a distraction for Wilde, who managed to get out his cell and deactivate the ZPD's power supply. Meanwhile, a collaborator entered into the building and incapacitated the present officers, until officer Wolford engaged the collaborator in a fight. One of our administration workers were hidden near there and provided us with useful information we are using to track them down."

The room exploded. The fact that one of the most highly esteemed police officers in the city had been unveiled as corrupt was something that would mark Zootopia for a long time, but knowing that that same officer managed to get out of prison shortly after being arrested was a bombshell. Animals on internet forums were widely commenting it, TV programs were registering record audience ratings and social networks were on fire.

"How did he manage to escape a cell when he was being guarded?" quickly asked a black small mouse whose shrill voice surprisingly rose amongst the rest.

Bogo seemed uncomfortable when he was faced with this question, remaining quiet for a moment, doubting.

"We… We don't know," his face was serious, but his voice conveyed worry. "The officer that was watching Wilde was found unconscious and severely injured in front of the cell. After a professional diagnosis, it was stated that his arm was fractured in two different places and…" he stopped, swallowing hard, his mouth dry. "He had an intracranial aneurysm that broke due to a couple of blows that hit his face. It was completely accidental since the blood vessel was not discovered because of its small size, but some delicate surgery had to be performed. Right now, the officer is in a medically induced coma with the chances of survival being low."

The buffalo left his speaking stand, clearly considering the press conference done. Then, Nick aimed at the small TV in his room and the image faded. He had barely slept during the night until finally desisting from his efforts half an hour ago, when the first rays of sunlight snuck through the window. Right now, he doubted that he would be able to get to sleep for a long time. He had tried to carry out a perfectly clean operation, even reprimanding Growlson when he was careless about controlling himself and, in the end, it was him, he was the failure, the cold blood murderer, the monster! If Fangmeyer died, Nick would never be able to forgive himself.

That wolf was his friend, both of them so similar. A father that disappeared, a home they left, a dark past they could not share… They opened to each other, and he shed his blood to thank him. The plan had to go on, but when everything was where it must to, he didn't want to have a grave to visit instead of a friend, less knowing that it was his paw the one that buried him.

His eyes darted to the desk in front of him, a pack of cigarettes on it. The fox found it last night, inside the suitcase that was placed onto his bed, and that made him think that Growlson was the one who prepared it and forgot it there. Nick did not need it, since he left the habit long ago, when they money it costed had grown too much to be profitable. A premature death was not worth 8 bucks a day. Of course, that was a time he had no real reason to worry about his long-term health, but now he just put that pack onto the desk, waiting for Anna so she could hand it to the hyena.

However, his eyes were glued to that small carton box now. He didn't thought about it, just reacted by impulse, opening the pack with trembling paws. There was a lighter inside. "How convenient," the fox thought, putting one of those things on his lips. The first puff was horrible. He couldn't remember the last time he smoked, but it sure was years ago. The taste made him look disgusted, and the feeling of that little cloud of ashes and chemical components raiding his lungs made him cough. The first puff is worse for ex-smokers than for no-smokers, and made him feel so bad he forgot about Fangmeyer for a second. They, it came back, so he had another one. Another one. Another one.

Two knocks on the door broke his daydreaming. Anna entered into the room happily with a cup of coffee on one hand and some snacks on the other one, her smile disappearing as soon as she smelt the cigarette and saw the fox. Her cheerful gesture turned into an enraged face when she left the food on the desk and snatched the smoldering cigarette end and the pack from his hands and threw them away through the window. Then, she closed the door and looked at her, truly furious.

"Nicholas Piberius Wilde! What do you think you were doing!" her voice was angry, but also concerned, "If I see you again with one of those, I swear I'll—"

The fox, entirely frozen, let himself fall on the chair next to the desk, his head between his paws, eyes wide open. The lioness stopped her speech immediately, worried.

"Nicholas, Nicholas… You are no smoker, Frederik told me that," she gave him a loving embrace, caressing his head, "so please, tell me, what is happening?" she looked at him, scared, "Are you hurt? You aren't sick or wounded or something and just didn't tell me, right?"

He laughed sadly when he heard those words, finally calmed again.

"No, no, not at all," he laughed again, "it is rather the opposite."

When he explained her the situation, her frown relaxed.

"Oh, Nicholas, I understand that you feel guilty, but it wasn't on purpose!" she sighed and sat on the bed, since the only chair in the room was occupied, "it would be so sad that a fellow predator died, but we are working for something so much more important. Sometimes, a sacrifice is in order, it is necessary."

He nodded, not wanting to express the opposite. She sighed.

"Nicholas, I… I want to know you. Our group is not just a bunch of mammals that stuck together because of our own interests. We are a family, pursuing a joint goal, a dream. And, as a family, I wanted to tell you. Who I am. Why I am here."

"Thank you, Anna, but it is not really—"

She told him to be quiet sweetly.

"Look, I won't speak about the others, since I don't know if they want you to know about them, but me… I feel bad about you thinking that you are not being trusted, it is just wrong. We are only being cautious."

She rested her back on the wall, still sat on the sheet. Nick was paying all his attention to her, sipping his coffee.

"Where do I begin…? Oh, of course," her face got engraved by pain and darkness, "the bar."

23 years ago.

Not far from here, about ten minutes from here, there was once a grotty dive that closed long ago. It was the meeting point of an old ultra-speciesist prey gang, which meant that my father and me, when we had to go there, we were threatened and insulted. We didn't go too much, but since my mother died twenty six years ago we had to pop in that pub every two months. My father ran this hotel legally back then, but my mother became a compulsive gambler. When a car accident took her life, she left behind a huge debt we had to pay, and that was our rendezvous point.

I remember how the atmosphere was more disturbed than usual that night. At one of the tables, close to the counter, three preys were abusing publicly a forth one. The aggressors were, of course, members of that despicable gang, a bull, a zebra and an antelope, while the one who was being reviled was a little goat that looked completely harmless. They were shouting a lot. From their loud conversation, it was deducible that the goat's son had tried to leave that atrocious organization, and they, being the brave mammals they were, were threatening his mother to avoid that.

No one did anything, of course. This had nothing to do with them, why would anyone intervene? They all continued drinking, taking drugs or whatever they were doing that wasn't looking in the wrong direction. I wish my father had done the same.

He was a compassionate and gentle mammal. It took a lot to avoid him from standing up and interfering. Finally, those monsters left, dragging the goat with them. I knew it broke my father's heart not being able to help, but I had to protect him. Maybe I was selfish, but… He was the only one that I had left. The people in the bar returned to their chatting again when the front door was closed again, and my father and me started to get back to the hotel, walking, since we were near it. I was already forgetting what had happened in the bar. I wish my father had done the same.

We passed by a narrow alley, three or four blocks further away, and both of us heard them: screams. I could see my father's fur bristling, his eyes narrowing. He let go of my hand and I ran after him, knowing he was going to do something crazy.

I saw that damned goat in the alley, being beaten up by the gang members. If I had gone armed, I could have shot all those assholes, and they would have never—!

Anna started to hyperventilate. Nick quickly went to her, worried, but she raised a paw.

"Sorry, it is just, so, so painful to remember."

The fox returned to his seat, still concerned.

"You don't have to—," he started to say before getting cut short.

"But I want to, Nicholas. I just get angry when I talk about those pieces of shit," she caught her breath. "Well, where were we?"

Those three preys laughed when my father shouted at them to stop. Then that fucking bull hit him and knocked him down, and they all started to kick him, the goat laying on the ground, looking at the mammal who saved her with indifference. I commenced crying, and they just laughed.

The zebra and the antelope approached me, amused. I was so scared, and I could only sob while they got closer and closer to me. They grabbed my arms. They said they were going to have fun with me and my father, with these who dared to meddle in their matters, who thought they could do anything without being punished just because they were preds. The zebra drew a clasp knife.

"Just like your fangs, m'lady," he licked the blade with a devious smile, "which one do you think is sharper?"

He hit my belly and I lost my breath. When I felt the pain in my stomach, the antelope pinned me against. That zebra put his weapon right next to my neck and the point penetrated my flesh. However, their laugh just lasted for a second this time.

The next thing I saw was a golden brown blur that pounced on that zebra.

Somehow, my father had managed to get rid of the bull, whose chest showed the beautiful, deep marks an angry lion's claws can leave in the skin. His face was badly injured as well, and I later found out that he lost his left eye. Nevertheless, it is unquestionable that the zebra got the worst of it. My father, that dumb lovingly mammal, bit his head off and mauled him savagely. He was out of his mind.

Blood was dripping from his mandible, pieces of flesh and fur hanging from his teeth. When he came to his senses, he threw up.

When the police arrived, they found two gangbangers scared to death in a corner of the alley, an old goat who was barely able to breathe, a lioness crying, a corpse and my father, shocked and unconscious due to the beating and the events after it, surrounded by viscera and blood. Three days after, my father died at the hospital because of an internal hemorrhaging. They weren't able to save his life, he didn't even wake up from that dirty bed and I never told him how brave he was, how much I loved him. I wasn't able to say goodbye to the only thing I had left in this world.

And he couldn't attend his own trial, a trial he would have lost.

They blamed my father! Those bastards said he was the attacker. That they, inoffensive prey as they were, just tried to defend themselves! And that vile, degenerate scum of a goat… She supported them! She lied and stated that she was assaulted by `a mad predator' and those preys tried to avoid that he mauled her!

I spent weeks seeing them lie. Seeing how they were branded as heroes, as symbols for the anti-predator movement. I saw alleged professional sociologists and celebrities condemning speciesist violence against prey and organizing rallies to honor that fucking zebra. He became a martyr! I had to go under the radar, since some of this fake pacifists were threatening me. Meanwhile, my father was considered a murderer, a model of the predator oppression, an icon that meant that everyone with fangs or claws was a potential genocide.

The bull, the goat, the antelope… All of them are dead now. If the world is only going to see a predator as violent and dangerous, there is no point trying to be anything else.

Nick's gesture twisted on his face, recognizing his own words, almost the same. Anna didn't notice it.

So I gave them that. After years, I got my revenge in the shape of a knife into their skull. My father was avenged.

The fox was worried now. How was it possible that a sweet and caring animal as Anna cold-bloodedly killed three—or even more—prey mammals? The lioness saw his expression this time, but misunderstood it.

Oh, of course, you must be wondering how I was able to do that, being totally alone. I had to reinvent the hotel business model. As I received the support of a pro-predator gang when the rest of the world was against me, I offered them refuge so they had somewhere to send their members when they had to hide. After that, I opened up to the rest of the criminal predator groups and, finally, to every predator in need of a place to disappear, paying as much as they were able to, helping in the bar or cleaning if not. Gangs pay me so their mammals can stay here and enjoy some extra amenities, so I have a good amount of income. Thanks to that, no prey has gone through the hotel's front door for twenty three years.

I lived like that for years, only worrying about if myself and the hotel, completely disconnected from the outside world, so I didn't witness how this city tried to forget the past, forcing predators to take a step back so small prey weaklings were able to feel safe and powerful. They have repressed us, Nicholas, from the proud kings of the savannah to the lethal hunters in the jungle or the feared rulers of the tundra. And what have we become? We build their houses, we open their doors and we have to wish them a nice day, because if not, they would claim abuse and you will be branded as speciesist! If only we could live equal and peacefully, I would fight for that. But no. They came from an inferior position, and didn't try to make a better world, they just wanted to take the power.

Slaves do not dream of freedom, but of becoming masters. It is sad, it is devastating, but foremost, it is true. So we can accept our place as slaves or we can fight back.

And, two years ago, I made my decision.

I remember it clearly: it was four o'clock in the morning. I was reading, as I use to do when I am waiting for guest at the reception desk. It was raining outside, and quite strongly. It had been a really weird week, with sunny and rainy days taking turns. I was alone at that time, since John, the badger that was working as barmammal in those days was already in his room. During the day, another worker takes my place at the reception desk, but at night, it is mine, since the most interesting animals check in at night. And the most dangerous ones too.

I was there, relaxing a bit, when the door suddenly opened. Frederik entered the building then, breathing heavily and carrying Mr. W over his shoulder, and looked around, scanning the room to make sure the place was safe. He was not the first one who did that, and he wasn't the last, so it stopped being funny a long time ago. Frederik seemed fine, but Mr. W was wounded, I could see blood on a first-aid bandage, which meant that they had to pay and I wouldn't accept their help as payment, since there was the possibility of a corpse in my hotel, and its cleaning would have been troublesome. Still, they were predators, they needed my help and I am no monster.

Frederik paid and left a generous tip, enough to cover their stay for weeks, but of course, I posed no questions and took them to their room. When they closed their door, I didn't move. It was something I have never done, eavesdropping on a guest, but that time… I had a weird feeling about them, so I remained there, listening.

"This place is safe, but we need a doctor," Frederik said, his voice weak, "then I will start looking for a job in the group that tiger talked us about. We have enough money for now, but after a couple of months maybe—"

Mr. W interrupted him. He spoke slowly, his words vanishing sometimes just to be replaced by coughing fits.

"Thank you… Frederik… But I am not sure if… I am going to make… it."

Frederik hastened to deny that last sentence, assuring him that everything would turn out okay. I can guarantee you Nicholas, that I have never seen him express any emotion but boredom except for that time. He was on the verge of tears, and I am sure that, when you are speaking about Frederik, it is something to consider.

But Mr. W continued talking. He was the one dying on a bed, in a place full of criminals, and he was still trying to comfort his friend. I admired him. He started speaking about his goals and everything he left behind. I was enchanted. There was something about him, about his voice and words that made me want to help, to join them. He said what he desired to do with such a confidence that I was, and I am, completely sure that he was able to accomplish everything he wanted. And he voiced my dreams. At that moment, that mammal was for me a messiah.

Of course, I was surprised and gasped, so the following thing I knew was that I had Frederik on me, pinning me down, my face against the floor and a gun aiming to my head. He always had an acute hearing.

"What are you doing here!?" he shouted.

I was afraid to die there. Frederik probably thought that I was following them, that I wanted to denounce them. At the very least, I could be just a busybody, so my words caught him off guard.

"I want to help you."

I still don't know how my words left my mouth without fear. After all, I was at one step to the grave. But when I saw his expression, I knew I had won. He did something I probably won't see again: he doubted. I know he has trained you, so you had spent some time with him. And, as he taught you how to fight, you two must become a little bit closer. That's how he makes friends, even if he denies it, fighting. It is all he knows.

Anyway, I am sure that you have never seen him doubt. He works masked, so if he does doubt, not many animals are able to confirm it, but it is clear that he is not an unsure mammal. And well, I am not a skilled negotiator, but I had him boxed in right from the start, and he knew that. I really wanted to help, but Frederik couldn't know that, so he had two options. He could kill me and flee, which would result in an almost sure death for Mr. W, or he could let me in and actually help them. It is obvious which his decision was.

His wounds were severe, so much and so many that I was surprised that he was still alive. I knew someone who could save him. You don't work so much time on the dark side of the society without making some associates who owe you favors, right, Nicholas? One of them was a surgeon at the Zootopia Central Hospital, so he was a good doctor, a truly good one.

Mr. W recovered, slowly and painfully, but he did. I spent most of my free time talking to him, learning from him, which reassured me in helping him to make his dream come true. He wanted to take off the mask society had put on itself, trying to hide how prey and predator are meant to fight. Even when I know it is stupid, I want to get back at them. I want to punish, to bring justice, to make them pay for all the pain they caused, but not Mr. W. He did not desire to create chaos nor gratuitous violence, just uncover the truth. Tell me Nicholas, if faced with the same question that you and I answered, what do you think animals would say? Do predators and prey prefer to live a lie that everyone seems to ignore or a painful truth? That's the reason why they need us, Nicholas. To make them see their mistakes, even if they don't want to; to show everyone that you cannot repress the true nature, the instinct.

That's what we are going to do, what we always wanted to do, but we didn't know how. We created a web. We prospered, saving money and resources, but still, we needed something, a catalyst. Even when our group was small, our contacts were numerous, but our true purpose was a mystery for everyone but me and other three people. But we needed a way to make our goals tangible, and it remained as a question mark for us.

Until you appeared.

Nighthowlers opened up a new option for us. Suddenly, we had a way and someone in to help us put our paws on it. Mr. W… He was so happy when he saw how you arrested that damned sheep and, at the same time, gave him the key to a new world. Even Frederik smiled once. You gave us all, Nicholas.

Of course, we could have taken the information without you, but it had to be you. You know how much he loves drama and theatricality, and the fact that it was a fox, the species considered as the most dishonest, the one that showed everyone the truth of this rotten world was just perfect.

And you did it. You took that chance, and we will make sure that you are always remembered for that as a liberator.

A hero.

Anna stayed immobile, her paws on her lap, looking at Nick with shiny eyes, amazed, as if a god had descended from the heavens bringing a good tiding. Nick left his cup on the desk, not knowing what to say.

"Anna, I…" he had a knot in his throat, "I am sorry about your father."

Her smiled became sorrowful. After some seconds, she stood up and embraced him lovingly, taking him off guard.

"Everything is okay. It is the reason because I am who I am. I know every one of you because of that. I fight because of that," the lioness caressed the fur on his head softly, just like his mother did when he was a child, a lifetime ago. The knot inside him got bigger.

They hugged each other, in silence. She, feeling the memories she had just brought back crawling on her back, harming her, but also lighter than ever. He, overwhelmed by her maternal presence, thinking about that old vixen, giving him a scout uniform, begging him in desperation to not leave her alone when he left the hose to never come back. Thinking about her, dying alone in a hospital bed dying of a lung cancer, death he could not mourn until six months later when he found out.

Neither of them let the other one see their tears.

Judy

The hospital room was in silence. Every silence is different for the rest, and each of them shows different things, depending of the situation. The expectant silence at an awards ceremony, the calm silence after a tiring night, the happy silence shared between a couple when their gazes meet. The one that is present next to a sickbed is, however, special. It isn't a lonesome silence, but the combination of a huge amount of them, separated by the beeping of a machine. It is terrifying and heavy, to think that any beep can be the last one.

That was the silence that surrounded Fangmeyer's room. His chest rose and fell uninterruptedly; and that was precisely what Judy was fearing, that from one second to the next, her partner stopped being a living being to become a mere dead husk of a mammal, whose lungs only moved thanks to a breathing machine.

And the worst of all was that he was there because of Nick.

She couldn't understand it. She still remembered the next day to the first time the wolf and the fox decided to hang out together, Nick's euphoric smile telling her how he made a friend. His serious gesture, days later, confiding her that, even when the wolf was as shameless and joker as him, hid equally or even more then the fox about his past. Maybe that was the reason they got along so quickly, because both of them tried to avoid the rest getting to them. Maybe that was the reason, Judy didn't know, Fangmeyer started to treat her differently when he noticed how much she meant for Nick.

Sitting next to the fallen wolf, she had waited for the rest of the visitors to leave, unable to look at them in the eye. Although it was Nick the one who betrayed the rest, she was the one who opened the doors of the ZPD for him, and guilt consumed her. She held back the tears, looking at the comatose wolf. There: she made a promise: Nick's mistakes would be her mistakes too. She had to stop him, she had to save everybody, not allowing him to hurt someone else.

From now on, she would not doubt. She would not feel.

Her duty was to elucidate Nick's acts. To capture him and bring him to the justice. And, until then, she had to keep her mind away from her heart. His words, she taking ownership of them now, reverberated inside her head while she left the room:

"I am doing all of this for you."

Well, here we are again. This summer is killing me, it seems like I can't get anything done. I won't stop writing until I end this story, tho.

Thanks so much for reading! I finally decided that Fangmeyer is going to be somewhat important just as an emotional resource, so he will be given a background. However this doesn't mean that he is going to have weight on the story, since, as you can see, Nick is going to be the axis of the events. Nothing else for now, stay tuned and enjoy the summer!