I like to say I believe in ghosts so I don't get haunted by one.
Carmelita had never put much belief in superstition. She knew certain supernatural things existed, of course – the clause in the World Peace Accord of 1971 about banning the production of zombies hadn't been made on a whim, after all – but she was still skeptical of the vast majority of things that supposedly went bump in the night.
Still, even she could feel something distinctly off about this place they had just started trekking through. Beyond the dark sky and the creak of trees and the endless swarms of bugs, there was something else here. Something ancient. Powerful.
Malevolent, even.
Sly seemed to feel it too. He was twitchy and on edge, constantly scanning their surroundings as if expecting an assailant from the brambles or even the water. His hands gripped the straps of his backpack like they were his only lifeline.
"I didn't mean to scare you with what those other officers were claiming," she said quietly, almost afraid to disturb the natural silence of the swamp. "It's not too late to turn back and wait for me at the hotel."
"Oh, it definitely is," he mumbled, sending a sharp look towards a cluster of trees that swayed a little more in the wind than the rest. "We might not have alerted anyone living to our presence yet, but it doesn't mean other things don't know we're here."
"You believe in ghosts?"
"Of course I do," the raccoon replied, like it was incomprehensible to do otherwise. "You don't?"
"Some stories, I guess. I'm a little surprised, though, Ringtail. I would have pegged you as more of a skeptic."
"You haven't seen the things I've seen."
She tilted her head at him, intrigued. "Like what?"
"Like –"
He cut himself off when they came upon a giant spiked wall that looked more suited for a fortress than a swamp. Its gate was in the shape of some kind of bat-like creature, wings spread menacingly as if to encircle any unwelcome guests.
Sly thumbed up at glowing red eyes that seemed to follow their movement despite having no pupils.
"Like that."
The inspector stared at the bizarre barricade. Although the walls were easily ten feet high and without any obvious weaknesses, there were a few cracks in the gate itself, and the wood looked like it was starting to rot in places. When she squinted, something about the closed doorway almost seemed to gleam; a purple shimmer in the reflection of the dim moonlight.
Mesmerized, Carmelita lifted her hand and began to reach out.
"Don't touch it!"
She jerked back, startled by the raccoon's command. "What! What's wrong?"
"It's not safe. Look."
He picked a branch off the ground and tried to press one end of it against the gate. Before it could hit wood, the subtle shimmer suddenly lit up like a flare, and the branch caught fire. Sly dropped the stick to stomp on it until all the embers disappeared.
"How did you know it was going to do that?" The fox asked, startled. "Actually, how did you even know that thing was there? I barely saw anything."
"You have to know what to look for," he said, edging as close as he could to peer through the tiny cracks. "With magic like this, there's always some kind of color that shouldn't be there, and once you've seen it then it becomes obvious. It's like using dust to reveal invisible lasers."
"Huh, okay. You still haven't answered my first question."
"Personal experience. I told you I believe in this stuff for a reason, Inspector."
An awkward moment of silence fell between them as she waited for him to elaborate and he didn't. Eventually she pinched the bridge of her nose in a frustrated sigh.
"Okay, so…how do we get past this…'death barrier'? I left the jetpack back in the hotel room because it'd be too dangerous to use among all these trees, and neither of us has any magical equipment…I think."
She accompanied the remark with a significant glance at her partner's backpack, but he only shook his head.
"Unless you count a change of clothes and some personal effects, then I'm afraid I have to disappoint – oh! Here we go!"
Sly gestured for her to look through the same crevice he was. When she leaned forward to take his place, she could see several candles placed in a semi-circle on the ground on the other side. A significant purple glow radiated off the entire set-up.
"Those right there are what's keeping the barrier up. We snuff them out, and then it's gone. The gate will be easy to get through after that."
Carmelita bit her lip, and looked the entire wall up and down. "I don't like this."
"Don't like what? The spooky psychic fence?"
"No – well, yes but…I'm starting to see why those officers were so nervous about coming here, even if it's not for the reasons they're scared."
"Oh yeah?" He asked, turning to blink at her. "How do you figure?"
"This isn't anything like Mesa, where Muggshot and his men were running around an abandoned city. This feels like we're breaking into an established territory. There's no telling what could set off an alarm. What if turning off that barrier alerts Mz. Ruby to our presence, or you jabbing it with the stick already did?"
The raccoon got a funny kind of look on his face. "Don't tell me you're starting to have second thoughts already."
"I'm not. I just…I wish I had come better prepared. I don't have any experience with anything supernatural."
"That's why you've got me," he said sincerely. "I might not have all your confidential Interpol knowledge, but I've been around the block. I guarantee that whatever we encounter here, I'll probably know how to deal with it."
"You can't guarantee something like that, Ringtail. Not when we're dealing with someone like Mz. Ruby."
Sly shrugged in the most nonchalant concession she had ever seen anyone make in her life. Carmelita wanted to grab him by the shoulders and demand to know how he was so sure about any of this. How could he act so unfazed by something as outlandish as psychic booby-traps but then be scared silly by something as mundane as a plane ride? Why was he so confident he could handle all these supposedly-supernatural hazards? What kind of 'personal experience' did he have that made him wary of ghosts, or recognize glowing barriers and how to remove them?
The kind of personal experience that she needed, apparently.
The fox made a face and gestured towards the obstacle before them. "Okay, well, what do you suggest we do here? We're still stuck. I can't even touch the gate to try and get to those candles."
He was staring at the top of the wall, where trees towered over it on both sides like specters.
"I have an idea."
Before she could say anything, Sly began scaling the nearest tree. Once he was high enough to see over the gate, he started edging out onto a branch that looked far too thin to hold him.
"What are you doing?!" She called, afraid with each step he took that the branch would snap and he would plummet.
"Just trust me. I've got this."
The raccoon inched forward carefully with a level of focus that she suddenly didn't want to risk breaking. When he reached the end of it, he eyeballed a branch hanging just over the top of the gate from a tree on the other side. Carmelita's heart leapt into her throat as she realized what he was about to do.
"Don't –!"
Sly jumped.
He landed on the other branch in a forward crouch, arms pinwheeling as it bobbed up and down dangerously under his weight. After several terrifying seconds of bracing for the worst, he found his balance and looked back at her.
"Told you I've got this." His voice was steady but she could still see the nervous flickering of his tail.
The fox pursed her lips as he climbed down the other tree and disappeared from sight behind the gate.
It only took a minute for him to extinguish all the candles on the other side, and the strange, shimmering barrier dissipated like smoke. Carmelita tentatively pressed her palm against the now-normal gate. When it didn't zap her, she pushed hard at it until the wood splintered enough for her to slip through.
Sly was leaning against the base of the tree he'd jumped to when she joined him on the other side. The fox glanced up at the branches above them, which looked even more precarious than the ones on the first tree.
"How did you do that?" She asked him.
He shrugged. "Gymnastics."
"Ringtail, I've taken gymnastics. I've never seen anyone do anything like that."
"Advanced gymnastics."
The inspector shook her head and decided it wasn't worth the energy. "Well, whatever it was, it was impressive – and you got us in safely. Nice job."
Sly paused in the middle of turning towards the path ahead. At this angle, she couldn't see his face.
"My pleasure," he said at last. "Let's get going before someone notices the barrier is down."
"Good idea." She wasn't exactly keen on finding out what kinds of things Mz. Ruby or her hired men were capable of after that entire display.
Past the barricade, the swamp started showing real signs of someone living there. Paths had been carved along the hard ground for vehicle use, man-made structures began popping up here and there, and lamps were scattered all over to provide just enough light to see what came next. It probably looked different during the day, but in the middle of the night it was both the perfect example of covert operations and brought a supreme sense of dread that the two of them were not supposed to be part of it.
Inspector Fox turned off her flashlight, afraid of drawing unwanted attention when they really didn't need to use it anymore. It was just in the nick of time as a bobbing, moving glow suddenly broke around the corner of a nearby building. Sly pivoted on his heel and practically pushed Carmelita flat against the wall as they hid and waited.
A large brown rat shuffled by with a lantern atop a large walking stick. He yawned as he walked, just far enough away that the two trespassers were not caught in his light. Carmelita could see the white flash of his teeth before he covered his mouth with a hand.
Neither of them moved until the guard was well past them. She could feel the raccoon's fur puffed like a blowfish where his arm was stretched across her shoulders. The familiarity of the position made her smile despite the situation.
"We've got to stop meeting like this," she whispered once they finally felt safe enough to pull away from the wall. Sly blinked at her, then jerked his arm back as if she'd burned him.
"Sorry," he whispered back. Even in the dark she could see his face had gone red. "Didn't mean to shove you."
"It's fine, Ringtail. You were just looking out for me." The fox nudged him, and smiled when he seemed to relax. "Good reaction time."
She took the lead again, feeling his eyes on her from behind, and pretended that she didn't notice it.
Another ten or so minutes of walking and they found themselves at the edge of a large, artificial clearing; the most well-lit of anything they'd come across before. A large abstract statue of sorts – or perhaps it was a shrine – sat in its center, covered in candles, and there were multiple buildings and gated pathways circling the entire area. When Carmelita strained to listen past the natural sounds of the swamp, she could faintly hear voices chatting on the other side of the fences.
They had found the center of Mz. Ruby's operation.
"See any obviously illegal activity?" Sly mumbled in her direction, eyes locked on a huge skull-like structure in the distance.
"No, but I don't need to." She pulled out a hand-held GPS in one hand and her radio in the other. "I just have to relay this exact location back to the local Interpol detective, and then he'll know it's a good place to send in a team to help me catch Mz. Ruby during her supposed rendezvous with Muggshot."
"Why didn't you do that before we started trekking through the swamp?"
"Because he'll need a safe place to land a helicopter, and we sure as hell haven't found anything open enough for it besides this spot."
"Good point." He stepped up to the bizarre statue, and she thought for a moment he was going to try and climb it, but he crouched at its base instead. "I'll be the look-out while you do your cop thing."
"My 'cop thing'," the inspector repeated, exasperated but not quite as irritated anymore. "What's it going to take for you to show a little respect for Interpol procedure?"
"Something worth showing respect for."
Carmelita's muzzle scrunched up and she rolled her eyes, then switched on her radio and spoke into the receiver.
"Inspector Fox to dispatch. Come in, dispatch. Over."
Static answered her.
"Dispatch, are you there?"
The static was replaced by a burst of crackling loud enough for both of them to glance around in alarm. It seemed to have gone unnoticed, however, as no guards came rushing out to investigate.
"Maybe the reception is bad where you're standing?" Sly offered, ears pinned back from either nervousness or the grating sound.
"It shouldn't be. We're in a clearing, not in the middle of the trees." The fox walked a few paces to her left just in case, then tried again. "Inspector Fox to dispatch. Please respond if you hear this, over."
They watched the little radio struggle to do anything other than spit more static. It was enough to make her grit her teeth in frustration.
"What on earth is wrong with this –"
"Wake up, you lazy bags of swamp gas!"
Mz. Ruby's voice rang out of the device so suddenly and clearly that Carmelita nearly dropped it in shock. She held it out at arm's length, afraid to touch any buttons for fear that it would give away her unintentional eavesdropping as the crime boss continued.
"The voodoo vibe is thick tonight. Let's take advantage of this powerful mojo and step-up production. Keep piling those shiny bones into the soup. We'll have an army of ghosts by morning, and take over Mexico by the end of the week!"
Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Sly stand up, fully alert. Her own fur was bristled to sharp points all the way down to her tail.
"Hear that, voodoo children?" The alligator practically crooned. "Our family is about to grow, grow, grow-ho-ho-ho!"
The transmission ended, and the radio went back to static as if nothing had happened. Inspector Fox stared at it a moment as everything hit her all at once.
"An army…" She whispered in growing horror. "She's building an undead army! We have to stop her before she can make any more!"
Her partner, although clearly agitated as well, seemed almost more distracted than horrified. He was watching the distant skull with a flickering tail and an unreadable expression.
"Sly, did you even hear me?"
"Of course I did," he replied, finally tearing his eyes away to look at her instead. "I just don't exactly know how we're supposed to do that when you can't even call for back-up."
Carmelita bit her lip as she glanced down at her radio. She put it away quickly and straightened her shoulders before she could second guess herself.
"We'll just do it all ourselves. This will be a…a two-man operation, just like in Mesa. Don't –" she cut him off as he started to open his mouth, "give me any snark. I didn't ask for any and I don't need any."
"Yes, ma'am," the raccoon mumbled, sounding more amused by the command than anything else.
"Okay. Good. We currently have…" she checked her watch, "almost three hours until the rendezvous. That should give us plenty of time to scope out exactly what Mz. Ruby is doing to create her army and put a stop to it."
"Works for me." Sly spared one last glance at that distant structure. Carmelita wondered what was so fascinating about it – it was unusually shaped, yes, but so was just about everything around them. "Lead the way, inspector."
Said inspector gave a resolute nod, self-assuredness growing with her partner's trust. She had no idea how the two of them were going to stop a supernatural assembly line, but surely they'd be able to find a way without too much hassle…right?
Without giving the doubt a chance to take root, the fox approached the nearest building and began testing the doors. Most were locked with actual, physical padlocks, but she kept a careful eye out for any purple shimmering just in case. When she glanced back to see where her companion was, it came as no surprise to see he had indeed decided to climb the statue and was now perched atop it with his legs swinging idly like he was on a jungle-gym.
As ridiculous as he looked up there, it was obvious he was using the height to be a better look-out, and she felt safe enough to turn her back to the clearing.
It didn't take very long before she finally found an unlocked door, with the added luck that the windows around it were dark, giving her hope that the building would be vacant while they snooped. She waved Sly over who slid off the statue and was at her side in an instant.
"Found something?" He whispered, turned away from her to continue watching their six.
"I think so." Carmelita turned the knob and opened the door as quietly as possible, relieved that the hinges didn't squeak. She slipped into the dark room, the raccoon right behind her, and was suddenly hit with the overpowering smell of poultry.
"Oh, man," she heard Sly say with a whistle, and when she clicked her flashlight on to see why, she was inclined to agree with him.
Chicken coops lined every wall, nook, and cranny, stacked on top of each other to create an entire maze of countless unevolved birds. Many of them only gave a few curious clucks at the evening disturbance, while the rest remained watchful or asleep. Inspector Fox's snout scrunched up as she realized the coops hadn't been cleaned in what was probably a good while; the smell was almost enough to make her gag.
"Why are there so many chickens?" She asked, completely confounded by the sight in front of her. Of all the things she'd expected to find – stored body parts, or zombie production equipment, or a room full of voodoo dolls, maybe – this was not one of them. "What is she even going to do with all of them?"
"An army gets hungry, I bet. Even a zombie one." The raccoon took a few steps forward and began trailing his gloved hand along the closest cage. "The real question is what we can do with them. You think if I let them all out, it would ruffle some feathers?"
The tone in which he said it was downright gleeful as he threw a mischievous look at her over his shoulder. Carmelita gave him a flat stare in return.
"We're not setting loose an entire room of chickens, Ringtail."
"Why not?"
"Because – uh, because…"
She did not have an immediate answer, and that seemed to egg Sly on. Without breaking eye contact with her, his hand wandered over to the first coop's latch and slowly began to undo it.
"Sly," she warned.
"What?" He asked in faux innocence. "You said we need to stop Mz. Ruby's plans. I think this is a pretty great place to start, don't you?"
Once again, Carmelita didn't have a rebuttal. She could only watch in a mix of dread and almost inappropriate curiosity as the raccoon opened the coop. He pulled the hen out with surprising gentleness, and it cooed as it woke from his touch. Then he set it on the ground, paused as it blinked up at him…
And lunged at it with a loud growl.
The chicken screeched, startled, and fled in a flurry of flapping feathers. Its panic woke its sisters, and soon the entire room was filled with hens freaking out and trying to escape their coops from the threat. Sly's snarl settled back into a smug smile as he stared at Inspector Fox's wide, shocked eyes.
"Most number of released chickens wins!"
And he went straight for the next coop.
Carmelita stood frozen a moment, torn between her learned professionalism and her instinctive competitiveness. Then her partner looked back at her as he opened his third cage with a shit-eating grin across his face.
Oh, it was on.
She ran for the opposite wall and started opening coops one-by-one, ducking wings and beaks and talons as the birds barreled past her in their frenzy to escape. Feathers smacked her in the face when one hen tried to jump into her hair, and she could hear Sly laughing at her as it sent her stumbling backwards, throwing her arms up to try and dislodge the disheveled bird. One quick glance showed he was a few meters away, and she cut off his laughter quick by throwing the chicken at him; suddenly he was the one having to deal with a frantic chicken on his body as it attempted to climb up and into his hoodie.
Carmelita used the distraction to close the small lead he had, and soon they were literally neck and neck, fighting for space to see who could reach the next coop before the other. Chickens screeched and flapped all around them – on the ground, in the air, on top of cages – and it became just as much a part of the game just to avoid tripping on a bird as it was to let them out.
By the time every cage was empty, both of them had lost track of who had opened the most and they were completely surrounded by fowl and feathers. As a final way to add insult to injury, Sly opened the door they had come through and scared the entire flock into a frenzy again, sending chickens outside in what could only be described as a hen hurricane. The two went running out after them, booking it for the nearest cluster of swamp overgrowth to hide in just as one of Mz. Ruby's men finally realized something was not as it should be.
Sly had the biggest grin on his face as they watched several frantic rats try in vain to corral dozens of poultry back inside the building, and even Carmelita had to admit it was a hilarious sight. She struggled to put her professional mask back over her emotions so they could get back to the real task at hand; it was significantly harder to do when she glanced at her partner and saw feathers poking out of the space between his hoodie and his head.
"You look like you've been tarred and feathered," she couldn't help but snort as he began plucking them out of his fur one by one.
"And you look like you decided feathers make good hair extensions." His eyes were twinkling and his teeth were gleaming in the dim glow of the nearest camp lights.
The inspector huffed and started combing her fingers through her hair. "I can't believe we just did that. That was probably the dumbest thing I've ever done in my life. It felt like we just TP-ed her front yard."
"Think of it as calculated sabotage," the raccoon said cheerfully, in the best mood she'd ever seen him in. "Now all those guards will be too busy catching lost chickens to notice us poking around in the more important parts of this operation. We were just giving ourselves a window of opportunity."
For the third time in a row, Carmelita found that she could not argue. She rolled her eyes, stood up, and brushed the remaining feathers off her body.
"Come on. We shouldn't dally here any longer if we're going to take advantage of that 'window of opportunity.'"
She held out her hand to help him up and he took it with only a little hesitation. They hurried to the nearest fence, scaled it with no issue, and left behind the lightest of footprints and the screeching of chickens as the only proof of their presence.
A/N: It took all my willpower not to name this chapter "Down Home Cooking" and spoil the surprise. I wasn't originally going to adapt any of the minigames in the story for obvious reasons, but I had to give a shout-out to the most BS one in the entire game. Sly's taking out 11 years of having to deal with chickens in that scene and I'm doing the same but with 20 years lmao. Also figured a brief bit of levity was in order before we properly delve into the terrifying world of Mz. Ruby.
Thanks for reading!