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The Fire Triangle
Part Two:
Oxidizer
When you're standing at the crossroads
Don't know which path to choose
Let me come along
'Cause even if you're wrong
I'll stand by you
The Pretenders
Chapter 5—Meet on the Ledge
(Cont'd…Part 5)
"Erin Hopps…Erin Janelle Hopps."
The slim young lioness sounded bored as she read the name; bored, and weary—and with good reason.
"Last?"
Erin stared at the 'bingo cage,' refusing to believe her ears. This couldn't be right; there had to be at least a couple more names still left in there…
It was empty.
"I'm on…last?"
She looked around the room. Except for her and ten other kids, all of whom were already on their feet, nobody else was waiting to go on. B-But, why had they drawn eleven names instead of ten?
Because this was the final group to be picked to go onstage…and she was…
"Dead…last?"
If Erin had been a wolf she'd have been howling in anguish. There was just so much wrong with this.
In the first place, it felt as if she'd been waiting forever to hear her name called—and that assessment wasn't far off. Looking at her watch, the young, white-furred bunny saw that it was almost 4:00; the auditions should have been wrapped up more than an hour ago.
And what that meant was…the audience would have mostly dispersed by now, the stands would be almost empty. Such might not have been the case had the big announcement still been forthcoming. 'Here are names of the applicants accepted for admission in the coming semester.'
No such luck now. The news wouldn't be delivered for at least another week—and so why hang around? When Erin walked out on that stage, she'd be playing to the judges, her family, her friends, and that was it.
Oh, and speaking of the judges…at this point, they were bound to be feeling tired and restless. The big thought on their minds would be something on the order of, 'Come on; let's get this over with!' Most likely they'd spend her performance counting the seconds until it was over—no matter how well she did. They might even ring the bell early, just so they could get the heck out of here.
And that wasn't the worst of it, not by a long shot. First rule of any audition says, NEVER follow a better act onstage…and now there was no way Erin wasn't going on in the wake of a better performer. Out of all the kids who'd auditioned today, there wasn't ONE, at least, that had her beat? Get real, rabbit! All her work, all her preparations, everything she'd done to get ready for today… all of it felt like a pawpsicle dropped on a hot sidewalk; there's nothing you can do but stand there and watch it melt. Your treat is gone and you can't bring it back; sorry…
"Erin…Hopps?" the lioness repeated the name, this time with an edge to her voice.
"Uh, here." Raising a paw, she got up and went over to where her gear was stacked…dragged herself over, if you wanted to be truthful about it.
There were only two items left in the pile, both of them hers.
"I'm on LAST!"
She would have burst into tears if she hadn't felt so numb.
"Here, let me help you wi' those." It was the Afurican Wild Dog again. His voice was kind and wholly sympathetic, but for Erin it was about as comforting as sitting on chilled concrete, in a wet swimsuit.
Even so, the young doe-bunny allowed him to take her duffle-bag, her pedalboard… and her bass. Yeah, let someone else carry it; who cared anymore, anyway?
Barely aware of what was happening, she took her place in the line at the stage entrance. Her thoughts were empty of emotion, almost robotic.
All right, when the group ahead of hers was down to the last three performers, the door would open and….
Erin would never have thought that her ears were still capable of it—not while she was waist deep in a blue funk—but just then ,she felt them shoot straight upwards. On the other side of the stage door, the song that had been playing—it sounded like Ed Shearing's Bad Habits—abruptly ceased with almost half of it left to go. What the…? She hadn't heard any gong; why had they….?
These thoughts were cut off by a noise and a commotion, somewhere in the stage wings beyond.
And then without warning the door banged open, so hard that a layer of brick dust shook loose from the wall. A split instant later, a sobbing young civet-cat went rushing past her with his arms wrapped over his head. Right behind him was the coyote-girl from the sign-up table, calling for him to wait up.
It wasn't the first time Erin had seen something like this today…so why did she feel like she'd taken a baseball bat to the gut?
"Hey rabbit…wake up, we're on."
Someone was shaking her by the shoulder; it was the marbled fox-girl in line ahead of her.
Stepping blindly, trying not to stumble, Erin followed her through the stage door—and at that moment she understood why the civet's meltdown had hit her so hard.
That was almost exactly how SHE had behaved that first time at the Carrot Days talent show–when her bass had died and she'd almost destroyed it. And now…could it happen again? Could she lose it like that a second time? Could it happen…here?
Oh, sweet cheez n' crackers, anything but that!
Someone closed the door behind her; the wolf security-guard who'd been drawing the names from the 'bingo-cage'.
Erin barely noticed him…and didn't see him averting his eyes as he went past her.
On the other side of the doorway, in the cavernous confines of the rehearsal studio, everything was as quiet as a still-life painting. Erin, the lioness, and the wolf-guard had been the last ones out the door, and now the room was empty.
But not for long; at the far end of the enclosure, the door to the hallway cracked open and a single eye appeared in the frame. It could almost have been an effect from a vintage B-movie horror flick—until it swung open all the way and a lanky, athletic young rabbit stepped into the room.
Max March had made several false starts before finding his way here. His first tunnel had run smack into a concrete dead-end, and the second one had taken him back outside of the theater again. His third attempt had come to naught when the earth surrounding him had abruptly turned sandy. Wisely–especially for him–he had promptly reversed course. As much as he wanted to catch Erin's audition performance up close and fursonal—without her parents around—it wasn't worth getting caught in a tunnel collapse. His fourth try, he'd sworn, would be his last if things didn't pan out.
They nearly didn't; the dig took him straight into a brick wall, much like the one he and Zack had hit during their first excavation. Okay, this was it, he was done. Turning himself around, Max had given the wall a farewell thump of frustration.
Two bricks had promptly dislodged themselves and fallen into the space beyond; the mortar surrounding them having long ago degenerated into little more than powder. Widening the hole, the young buck bunny had been unable to make out anything on the other side; it was pitch black in there. Pulling out his cell, he had turned on the light…and to his surprise, discovered that the hole he'd made was only an inch or two above floor level. As for the room itself, it appeared to be completely empty, nothing but four bare walls.
Nothing…except for a pair of dark, rounded humps, sunk halfway into the floor. Hrm…what the heck were those things? They looked almost like tractor wheels.
Max might have thrown in the towel right then and there…except his curiosity had picked just that moment to override his qualms. And so he'd pulled himself through the opening, and into the unknown chamber. Okay-y-y, those things weren't tractor tires; they were some kind of…generator? What in the name of Jiminy Christmas was something like that doing in here? Maybe Zack would know; he was nerdy enough…except he wasn't here right now.
Zack…
Ditching soccer camp for the ZAPA auditions had actually been his idea. When he'd first approached his cousin about joining the excursion, the bigger bunny had initially been lukewarm to the idea. That is, until Zack had told him why he intended to play hooky from soccer camp. Even then, Max hadn't quite believed him…not until he'd seen the text his smaller cousin had received two days previously. Wha-ho, that really was why he was planning to ditch camp this coming Saturday; who'd a' thunk the little guy had the sand?
"I'm s'posed to ask one other kid to come too." his cousin had said, puffing out what passed for a chest, "someone I trust; so how about it, Cuz? Wanna come with me?"
"Count me IN!" Max had said, and then the two of them had sealed the deal with a high five and a whoop.
"I fought the law…and I won!"
But that had been BEFORE he'd spotted Bonnie and Stu Hopps entering the Amphitheater. Ducking quickly behind a handy hippo, Max's first inclination had been to vacate the premises before they noticed him. But then he'd begun to wonder, what the holy carrot-sticks were they doing here? And then he'd remembered; Erin was auditioning today.
And that had changed everything. Sorry Zack, something more important just came up.
"Never mind about him, dumb-bunny," His inner voice had interjected just then, "is there another way out of here?"
Searching the room with the aid of his cell-phone light, Max had discovered the answer almost immediately, a short flight of steps leading to a large-mammal doorway. He'd expected it to be locked and it was—but then the wood had turned out to be almost completely rotted through, practically papier-mâché. When he'd pressed on it with his paw, the surface had all but disintegrated. Pushing his way through, he'd found himself inside a mostly empty property-room…and from that point on, the going had become much easier. The next door had opened onto a space reserved for set construction…an enclosure with plenty of hiding places and several peepholes looking into the next room over.
…A room that just happened to be where the applicants were gathered, waiting for their turned to be called to the stage wings.
When he'd finally spotted Erin, Max had been enormously relieved. She was still here; she hadn't gone onstage yet. Whoa, that was lucky; it would have been the ultimate aggravation to have made all that effort to get here, only to discover that her ship had already sailed.
But then, as it had been for everyone else, the minutes had become maddening…passing in stately procession without Erin Hopps's name being called.
On the other paw, because she was part of the final group to be summoned, the rehearsal room had emptied with her departure—and given Max an almost perfect opportunity. Now, padding softly up to the stage door, he lifted an ear and laid it against the paneling…listening…listening…
Immediately he heard a voice. "Okay, are you good here?"
It was the grey-wolf security guard, speaking to a long-limbed, similarly attired female cheetah.
"Yep, no problem," the big cat replied, and then promptly gave the lie to her statement by tugging down her tunic to cover her exposed navel—for something like the twentieth time.
"Are you sure?" The wolf was tilting his head slightly. "You seem kind of…preoccupied."
"I'm fine!" the cheetah snapped, causing several heads to turn in her direction.
"Okay, okayyyy," the wolf replied, making pushing motions with his paws. "I'm going to go check in up front. I'll talk to you later."
The big cat said nothing to this, only waved a paw. The wolf waved back and then exited through the outside stage door.
Several feet in front of him, a curly-horned ram in a police uniform was standing with crossed arms and an ear-cocked in the direction of the stage–where a strapping young zebra was belting out his own version of Melissa Otteridge's The Only One. It was a daring choice for a stallion to perform, although admittedly he could have sung it better.
"Better not let The Lieutenant see you 'getting distracted', Grazer," the wolf informed him, wagging a finger. His tone was wry, rather than harsh and the sheep took no offense.
"Baaaah, you know as well as I do that if the Lewis kid's here he's already back of there, somewhere." He cocked a thumb at the stage door, adding, "And just between you and me…"
"Nooo, I don't think so either," the wolf cut in with an insouciant shrug. And then his eyebrow abruptly curled upwards. "All right, what?" Grazer was regarding him with an almost pitying expression.
"Sorry bud." He was shaking his head, "but for crying out loud, couldn't they at least have found you a rent-a-cop uniform that fits? That looks like something MY species would wear."
"Tell me about it!" The wolf-cop growled, running paws over pant-legs almost wide enough to classify as pantaloons, "I feel like I'm in a vaudeville act or something. But if you think this is silly, you should see the outfit they gave Catano, she looks like I Dream of Jenny."
A quick snerk of laughter burst from the sheep, and Wolford responded by sniffing sardonically and reaching for his belt.
"But you want to see something really stupid? Check this out."
Grazer's eyes went wide and he bleated in amazement. "Baaaaa, what the heck, is that a toy or something?"
"I know, right?"
The lupine 'security-guard' was holding a nightstick in his paws, a 'tonfa' model, the kind with a handle jutting from the side and a metal bead on the end; a very popular tool within the law enforcement community.
Not this nightstick; it was clearly intended for a small-mammal species…much smaller than a timber-wolf. In Wolford's grip, it looked no bigger than a breadstick.
Uniforms that were way too big; gear that was way too small… Grazer shook his head again, bitterly this time.
"What a way to run a railroad, huh?"
Had he been privy to the sheep's remark, Lieutenant Albert Tufts would not have been pleased. However, he was busy with another one of his officers at the moment.
"Let me know when there's two left to go before the Hopps girl takes the stage," He said, pressing fingers to his headset again, "And then notify me again, as soon as she goes on, over."
There was no immediate response and the Kaibab squirrel felt his tail beginning to flip.
"Catano…Acknowledge please! Over."
Her voice came back as quivery as a Jell-o mold. "S-Sorry sir; I didn't hear you say 'over'. I'll let you know when there's two ahead of…two left ahead of HER, and then I'll notify you again, right…right before…um, over."
Tufts could feel his incisors grinding. Dangit, that stupid cheetah had just come this close to blowing her cover.
"Don't you even get distracted on me NOW, Catano!" he all but barked into his headset. "Command, out!" Ahhh, what the heck had gotten into her today?
What had gotten into Officer Kii Catano was Gazelle's rendition of Nothing Else Matters; an earworm that wouldn't let go. The more she tried to block it out, the deeper she felt the cut. Oh God, she'd give anything right now to have never been selected for this detail.
But…here she was, and so all she could do was try to put her mind elsewhere, focusing as best she could on the performances taking place onstage.
Erin Hopps had exactly the opposite problem. She didn't want to hear what was going on out there—but she couldn't help it.
The last performer in the group ahead of hers was a tree kangaroo. For his routine, he played the drums to a recording of Stalking Herds' Burning Down the House. Erin thought he did a great job, but the Afurican Wild Dog, who had helped him get set up, appeared singularly unimpressed by the performance. He was there, along with the coyote-girl Dana, and the Sand cat, Saad al-Zaqir. Also hanging in the stage-wings was the lioness who'd read out the names of the performers after they were drawn, and a pair of young ringtail cats. The only thought on their minds seemed to be to get themselves out of here as quickly as possible. And in spite of her agitation, the young doe-bunny couldn't help but wonder why they didn't just go; they weren't really doing anything back here.
Rounding out the group was a fidgety looking cheetah in a security guard's uniform. Sheez, what the heck was her problem? Why the heebie-jeebies, cat? YOU'RE not auditioning today."
The performances that followed the tree kangaroo ranged from mediocre to excellent; no real disasters, but no real standouts either.
That is…until they came to the wolf-girl four slots ahead of Erin. Even just waiting in the wings, she was an attention-getter. Take a look, f'rinstance, at the get-up she was wearing; a green and gold spandex body-suit, decorated with bright-red hot rod flames…flames which, curiously, ran downwards instead of upwards. It was weird but definitely noticeable.
When the chipmunk ahead of the young she-wolf came off stage, the two ringtail cats shared a look and then went scurrying up the…
Wha…the lighting gantry; what the heck were they going up there for? And were those…lengths of cable they had wrapped around their shoulders?
When they came back down the stairs again, they were bickering loudly about nothing in particular and sounding like some kind of robotic comedy team.
"Get out of my face, okay?"
"Really?"
"Really!"
"Okay…"
"THANK you!"
It was all fun and games…until one of them shoved the other and a scuffle started.
At once Dana and Jason rushed forward. They almost made it but… roused at last from her distracted state the cheetah-guard bolted in ahead of them and quickly broke up the fight. The next thing she did was aim a stern finger in the direction of the stage door.
"All right, you two…out!"
That was what finally got them on the same page. With one voice the pair put up a withering protest. And, for some odd reason, it seemed to put the cheetah-guard in a bit of a quandary. Her obvious next step would have been to escort the troublemakers outside. Except….for some reason she seemed very reluctant to leave her post.
Fortunately there was another big cat present. "I got this," the young lioness said, and in short order the two cacomistles were hustled out the door, complaining every step of the way.
"Say, who were those guys, anyway?" Dana Alchesay's tail had gone stiff and she was tilting her head sideways. "I don't remember seeing them before; are they students here or what?"
"I-I-I think they're in the acting class." her boyfriend replied, sounding entirely UN-sure of himself.
"Ohhh, whatever," the coyote girl flipped a paw back and forth. Like everyone else in the stage-wings she was eager to just get on with it. Turning to the opposite end of the stage she raised a finger at Mike Daehan, who nodded and spoke into his headset. A second later, Dr. Vignius' voice came over the PA.
"Very good…and now please welcome our next performer, Miss Carrera Garrett…errrr Garnett, Miss Carrera Garnett. He too was beginning to sound like he just wanted to get this whole thing over with.
In response, Mike punched another button on his console and music began to play.
Only where was…?
"What the…where'd she GO?" Dana was staring around in utter confusion. The wolf girl seemed to have vanished into thin air.
"Well, wherever she is," Saad was looking at his watch, "she's got 90 seconds to…"
" This girl is on fiiiiiiiyurrrrrrrrrre! "
Everyone turned…and there she was, swooping down off the lighting scaffold like a falcon locked on to a pigeon. She had a bungee cord hooked to the center of her back and her arms were angled backwards, turning her into a lupine arrow.
A fire arrow to be precise; in addition to the flames on her jumpsuit, there were streamers of painted fire, trailing from her legs and tail.
It didn't hurt that she also had one heckuva voice.
"She's…walking on fiyirrrrrrrrrrrre! "
And the aerial ballet she performed with her tune wasn't half bad either. At the end of her arc, she kicked off the left side of the bandshell and went flying around the edge of the apron in a wide, circular sweep, one arm stretched outward in the manner of Superwolf. Tucking her legs in at the end of her swing, she bounced off the bandshell opposite and performed a triple somersault in the air, never once missing a note. She then repeated the move a third time, this time capping it with a midair pirouette.
"She done dis before." Jason m'Beke growled, impressed, in spite of himself.
Meanwhile rather than bounce off the right side of the shell again, the wolf girl grabbed hold of the rim. And instead of kicking off again, she let herself fall straight downwards in an almost vertical nosedive. The audience gasped, and a few turned away. She was going to splatter herself all over the…
At the last instant, the cord caught and propelled her back upwards, high above the School Medallion, hanging over center stage.
Wrapping her leg and elbow around the suspension cable, she slid down to the top of the medallion, lifting her other arm, and concluding her rendition on a softer note.
"She's just a girl, but she's on fiy-irrrre…"
And the crowd went wild, clapping, stamping, roaring, trumpeting, chittering, squeaking; simply put, they were whooping their lungs out.
The reaction in other quarters was decidedly more mixed.
Most of the kids waiting to go onstage were awestruck but also wary; there was no doubt in anyone's mind that Carrera Garnett had performed her stunt after being specifically told not to. Why else would she have set up that diversion with those ringtail cats? (Oh yes, THAT had been the reason for their little brouhaha.) Kii Catano, meanwhile, was watching with folded arms and a twitching tail; just WAIT until that wolf-girl got back down here!
Dana Alchesay's feelings were even more negative. Right about now, she was ready to run Ms. Garnett through with a war-lance. And no, it had NOTHING to do with the way Jason had been looking at her; no, of course it didn't. Dana's issue was that if little Miss Rulebreaker had managed to hurt herself out there, her folks would probably blame the school and file a lawsuit. Why not; their daughter's attitude had 'product of overindulgent parents' practically written all over it. Heck, they might sue anyway if their little darling was rejected for admission.
…And she would be; no way could the Performing Arts Academy wave off such a barefaced flouting of the safety regs.
Conor Lewis's feelings on the subject were much more ambivalent —and could be summed up in a single thought.
"That wolf girl's stinkin' crazy…but you gotta love her style." He couldn't have set up that sneak performance any better if he'd tried. That being said, he had to agree with Dana on one thing, if nothing else. Carrera Garnett had just destroyed her shot at being accepted into ZAPA.
"Like this silver-fox kid I know...SHADDUP!"
And what of Erin Hopps; how did she feel about what she'd just witnessed?
If bunnies were capable of vomiting, she'd be in the backstage restroom right now, retching herself into oblivion. She had noticed something that the others apparently missed; Ms. Garnett might have just blown her chances of getting into The Acedmy…but she had also blown away the audience—AND the judges. Even if they'd have to disqualify that wolf girl for her guerrilla performance…mmmm, what was that old saying again? Oh yes, never follow a better act onstage. How the heck was one, little doe-bunny with a bass-guitar supposed to come even close to a feat like that? Worst of all, Carrera had not only set the bar on the top rung for whoever was going on after her, she had also cribbed a certain young rabbit's theme. The judges were not going to be particularly enthralled, hearing two songs on practically the same subject, performed almost back to back.
Could this day possibly get any worse?
They brought Carrera down again by pulling the medallion up to the level of the lighting gantry and letting her return via the stairs. When she reached ground level a moment later, she was holding her head up, high and proud. She seemed to know that she had no chance at all of getting into the Academy now…and she also didn't seem to care.
At once Kii Catano was all over her.
"I hope you think it was worth it kiddo. I'm going to take you outside now and hand you over to a police officer. He'll decide what happens next."
Carrera nodded and pointed to the lighting gantry.
"Awright, but I need to get my bungee cor…."
"WE'LL keep that, thank-you." The cheetah cop cut her off with a growl. She no longer seemed to give a toss about leaving her post
"No regrets," the wolf-girl sniffed, allowing herself to be marched out the door, all dignity. At once a burst of applause was heard, coming from somewhere outside. Whatever the judges and the ZPD might think, Carrera Garnett still owned the crowd.
Meanwhile the next performer, a young armadillo was taking the stage. That left the magic number of two to go before Erin's turn came up…and so, just before heading back inside, Kii Catano paused to notify Command. Out here she could give the full pitch without having to more or less speak in code.
"Very good, Catano," Tufts nodded as he answered her. "Let me know when she's about to go on. Command out."
"What about our flying she-wolf?" Claire Swinton was holding a mike above her head. "Grazer wants to know, are we going to arrest her, or what?"
The Kaibab squirrel immediately shook his head. "Ahhh, no…tell him to get her information and then release her into the custody of her parents. If the school decides to press charges, we'll deal with it then."
"Will do," the pig-cop nodded, "And errr…what about her two accomplices?"
"Do we have them in custody?" Tufts' tail was standing almost vertical.
"Uhhhh, no sir," Swinton admitted, looking like she wanted to kick herself, "not yet."
"Then let's not bother," he answered, waving a dismissive paw.
Uncrossing her fingers, the pig-cop nodded in satisfaction; for once the Lieutenant was acting sensibly.
The same could not be said about Erin Hopps. When the last performer ahead of her finally took the stage…sweet cheez' n CRACKERS!
Her name was Natasha Bellocq; a marble fox with pink tinted head fur and a mask of fur in the same color enveloping the top half of her face. Her forelock was tinted a darker, coral pink, and beneath each eye was a painted row of tiny red dots. She was clad in a sugar-pink dress, resembling an inverted flower, with a long, flowing cape cascading from her shoulders.
She began her song on a piano chord and a soft, smoky, almost hesitant voice.
" It's easy to push me away…from you
Easy to say you want to be left…on your own. "
But gradually her voice began to rise, as pure as spring water, as delicate as eiderdown.
" Anger kept fear and the sadness you feel
Under the surface for so long… "
And then…after another moment, the song seemed to just burst out of her, a bird set free from a gilded cage.
" Lend me your voice!
Let me see your face, let me start
To show you what I see… "
It was magical. If Carrera Garnett had been soaring across the stage on a bungee cord a moment ago, this girl could soar on her voice alone.
" Anything you want to say, I'll be right here. "
It was a song to tug at your heartstrings and never let go. Before the young marbled-fox was even halfway done, there wasn't a dry eye in the house.
When she finished up, the audience was instantly on their feet and cheering like never before. Carrera…who? Forget about that wolf girl; Natasha Bellocq was their new songbird.
Coming off stage she was greeted by more applause and tear-streaked faces…including that of Erin Hopps, although hers stemmed from a very different emotion.
If there was such a thing as the perfect set-up for a fail, she was about to walk right into it. Having to follow not one but two superior acts on stage…and go on last, dead last. When she handed over her pedalboard to the sand-cat Saad, her fingers seemed to have no feeling…and how had her bass gotten slung around her neck? She didn't remember even taking it out of its case.
Behind her, she heard the stage door close as Natasha bade farewell–or something like that, her mind wasn't really registering. Likewise, she didn't hear the door to the rehearsal room crack open, much less did she see the eye, peering out through the opening…or Max March's twitching nose
Nor was she aware of what Kii Catano was saying into her headset right then.
"Command….last one's about to go on, over."
"Roger that, Catano; Command out." Lieutenant Tufts spoke in a fast clipped tone, and then turned to address the Command Truck. "All right, everyone listen up; the Hopps girl's about to go on stage. I want every drone in position ASAP, and get that chopper in the air." He looked up, studying the overhead display screens, nodded as his gaze shifted from one to the other. But then he stopped, with his tail flipping.
"Why isn't there anyone covering the far left side of the stage?" he demanded, two fists planted firmly on his hips. And then without waiting for a reply, he waved a paw, "Never mind, who've we got that…? Oh, wait…Wolford. Have Wolford cover that area."
"Yes sir."
Meanwhile, back on the stage, Jason m'Beke had returned to the left-side wings, and was offering a thumbs-up to Mike Daehan. The black rat quickly returned the gesture and then spoke into his headset.
A half second later, Dr. Vignius's voice came over the PA again.
"And now, please welcome our final performer of the day, Ms. Erin Janelle Hopps."
"Okay gahch'iki, go get 'em." Dana smiled and gave her an affectionate pat on the shoulder.
The young doe-bunny swallowed, took a step forward…and then took two steps back.
"Erin?" The coyote-girl's tail had gone stiff again and her ears were wilting and falling backwards; she knew what was happening and Bik'ehgo'ihi'dan…not NOW! "Come on kiddo, get out there!"
The bunny-girl only shook her head. "I…I can't!" Her voice was like the sob of a ghost, coming from somewhere deep inside of an abandoned well.
"Yes you can," Dana had dropped onto a knee in front of her. "You can do this!"
"No, I can't!" Erin was gritting her teeth and tears were streaming from the corners of eyes. "I can't go on last; I can't go on after Carrera and Natasha; I-I can't do it."
"F' cryin' out loud, unogwaja!" It was Jason, thoroughly exasperated. "That wolf-girl not getting' into de Academy; they disqualify her for sure."
Erin only shook her head again. "I don't care, I can't!"
Dana stood up with a growl and a face pawlm. Glancing desperately around for a solution, her eye fell on the sand-cat standing behind the young doe bunny.
"Saad, get out there and start fiddling with Erin's pedal-board. Pretend like there's a problem with it. That'll stop the clock; hurry…go!"
"I get on it," the sand-cat replied, and hurried off as fast as his paws would take him.
Dana watched him for a second and turned back to Erin.
And that was when they heard it, the tooth-grinding wail of an air-horn, shrilling out over the PA speakers.
It lasted for perhaps two seconds at most, but the effect might well have been likened to the trumpets of Jericho—because it set off an instantaneous chain of events.
In the wings at stage-right, a twitchy Mike Daehan was standing at his control console and speaking rapidly into his headset.
Thirty yards away, in the judges' box, Claudia Nizhang was listening on her cell-phone, at the same time cupping a paw against her other ear.
"Okay," she said, and then disconnected and turned to the others. "Daehan says he didn't do it; he has no idea where it came from."
"Well then, where DID that air-horn come from?" A big eared bat demanded from his seat on the far left side of the box—actually a perch from which he was hanging inverted.
"No idea, Mr. Townshend," the red panda shrugged. She could hardly blame him for being sore; for an animal of his species, that noise must have been like a having a hole drilled into his skull
"Never mind that," the coypu sitting on her opposite side huffed, a hint of French in his accent, "Is anyone keeping track of how much time the Hopps girl has left to get started? I would like to get out of here sometime before Judgement Day."
Everyone else in the booth regarded each other awkwardly.
"Uhhh, well, honestly Jules…" Dr. Vignius was rolling his lips uneasily. But before he could say anything more, Gazelle stood up and pointed into the audience.
"¡Ai, Dios…Look!"
All over the amphitheater, kids were throwing on hoodies in blindingly brilliant chartreuse—after which every single one of them pulled the hood up over their heads.
"What the heck is going on out there?" Dr. Vignius queried rhetorically.
In the command truck across the street, Lieutenant Albert Tufts, ZPD thought he had a pretty good idea…in fact he was almost giddy at the notion.
"He's HERE!" The Kaibab Squirrel chittered triumphantly, pointing from one overhead monitor to another. "I told you he'd be here."
"Okay-y-y, but…what's he up to?" Claire Swinton was shrugging helplessly. She could see no visible evidence that her boss was right, but deep in her guts she knew that he was; Conor Lewis had come to the party. Only… "What the heck's he doing this for?"
Tufts pivoted to face her, pointing upwards at one of the display panels.
"This is how he's planning to sneak in without being spotted. He gets the kids in the audience to put on bright yellow hoodies, and then when HE shows up wearing one—how are we supposed to tell the difference?"
There was no arrogance in his voice, no scorn, only a cool matter-of-fact-ness. Nonetheless, his words cut the pig-cop right to the quick. D'oh, riiiight…and why hadn't she seen it for herself? She still didn't like this squirrel; she would probably never like him…but for once, at least, she had to begrudge him a measure of respect.
And now Tufts swung into action, barking orders to his command crew like the captain of a warship. "All right, listen up. I want every spare officer we've got inside of that amphitheater now, and every exit and entrance covered. Nobody wearing one of those hoodies gets in or out of that place without being subjected to a security check, especially if they're trying to get inside." He turned and pointed to one the techs; an alpaca. "Have all our drones pull back and start covering the exterior of the amphitheater. Tell the pilots to keep a sharp eye out for anyone wearing one of those hoodies and to notify command immediately if they see one. All right, you have your orders…move." He concluded with a clap of his paws.
Someone else was on the move right then, a young rabbit with silver-on-black fur by the name of Zack March.
Max had told him to go back inside the theater and he'd immediately done as he was told. But then, as the minutes had dragged into hours with no sound of an air-horn, he had found himself becoming increasingly restless…until finally he'd been unable to keep HIS foot from thumping.
Without even waiting for anyone to complain, Zack had returned to the hole his cousin had dug–unaware that it had been abandoned in favor of a new one, several yards away.
That's where he was crouching when the air-horn sounded.
And when he heard it…sorry Max, but this was why they'd come here today; it was time to return to the amphitheater and get that hoodie on.
For about half a second, the young buck bunny debated whether he should put it on now or wait 'til he was back in his seat again. He quickly selected the first option, slipping the hoodie on over his head and making a fast exit from the undergrowth.
Retracing the route by which he had come, Zack took no notice of the drone hovering twenty feet overhead…but the aircraft most certainly noticed him.
So did the ibex operating it, and he promptly relayed the news to the command truck.
"Roger that Bock. " Lieutenant Tufts replied, speaking in clipped precise tones, "Keep on him; Command, out." He switched frequencies and spoke again. "Grazer, this is command, we've got a yellow hoodie headed yours, over."
"Command I'm on him, over," the ram responded. He was standing just inside the right side theater entrance, and now he allowed himself a quick look around the corner. Yep, there was Hoodie-Kid; what an easy mark. Those neon babies might be good for losing yourself in a crowd of kids all dressed the same as you—but by yourself and out in the open, you might as well be wearing a flashing bullseye.
Moving briskly towards the front of the theater, Zack remained oblivious to the scrutiny being directed at him. The only thing on his mind right now was, "Dangit, it's too WARM for a hoodie out here." And he couldn't lose the thing; he couldn't even pull the hood back down. But—he could at least roll up his sleeves.
Officer Grazer didn't see him…but Lawrence Bock, the drone pilot did.
And what the ibex observed was a forearm covered with gray-on-black fur, giving the appearance of a silvery coat. It was something he'd seen before…in Sahara Square, while tracking the courier running money for The Phantom.
He didn't hesitate for a microsecond.
"Break! Break! Command! Command! Command! I have eyes on our suspect; I say again, eyes on our suspect. He's the kid in the hoodie, headed Grazer's position. Do you copy, over?"
"10-4 Grazer, we copy you five by five…"
Lieutenant Tufts wasn't the only one who had copied; Shaun Grazer had heard it too. Unfortunately, he happened to hear it right when he was looking around the corner again…and also while the kid in the hoodie was looking in his direction. Caught unawares, the sheep-cop startled before he could check himself. At once, he saw the youngster turn and begin to walk away–moving rapidly, as if he'd just remembered an important engagement elsewhere.
He immediately raised a finger. "Son, come here for a second…?"
The next thing he said was, "Command! Command! We've got a runner…!"
"Acknowledged Grazer; Command out." Tufts spoke quickly into his headset and then switched to the 'all channels' frequency. "All units, all units; suspect located, proceeding on foot at high speed, along the east-southeast side of the amphitheater, heading towards the service entrance. All available units respond, ASAP!"
Even before the squirrel had finished speaking, Kii Catano was on her way outside. It went without saying that the 'all available units' alert applied to her. Next to Grazer, she was the closest officer to the suspect. And she was also a cheetah—chasing down runners was what she did.
None of the others in the stage wings noticed her departure; they were all too busy with Erin Hopps,
"Come on, girl." Dana Alchesay was practically begging with tears in her eyes. "Please…you can't quit now when you're this close. Go on, get out there."
The young doe bunny only shook her head, backing up against the wall and clutching her bass like a kit with a plushie toy.
"You got to at least try, Erin." Jason m'Beke pleaded, and then took a different tack. "Think; what would Conah say, if he could see you like this?"
"Oh, I'm gonna say plenty!" an angry voice responded from somewhere beneath his feet. And then everyone was backing up wide eyed as a section of the floor creaked and began to move upwards, falling back against the floorboards with a flat thump. For perhaps a millisecond nothing happened, and then a wiry young fox with iron-grey fur yanked himself up out of the hole and leapt to his feet.
He was dressed in dark urban-camo…and looked like he wanted to bite somebody.
It took Jason all of a microsecond to assume the same expression, planting himself in front of the intruder with hackles raised and fangs bared. "You don't come here, GO!" he snarled.
The fox only snarled right back. "Back off Jason, this is between her and me." and then wiped a finger across his right eye.
And the Afurican Wild Dog yelped and stepped back in shock; not because of the fox's words, but because the eye that had been dark brown a second ago was now a deep, burning amber—an unmistakable burning amber.
"Hewu Nkosi yami! C-CONAH?"
"That's right, babe…and you!" He wheeled on Erin, thrusting a finger so violently in the young bunny's direction, it seemed that it might detach itself from his paw and go straight through her. "YOU!" he snarled again, fangs exposed and eyes blazing. Before anyone else could react, he was already in her face. "You got any idea of what-all I hadda do to keep my promise to you today, huh? HUH!" He pointed at the lighting gantry. "I almost fell off that thing twice, nearly puked my guts out in that cesspool they call a restroom, played hide and seek with a crummy police drone, almost got busted more times n' I can count…and then I had to spend the last three stinkin' hours hiding in a stinkin' sweatbox." The finger came back and he shoved it up under her nose. "And I did NOT go through all that stuff just to watch you fold up like a house of cards, you follow what I'm bringing out?"
"Conor, take it easy." Dana Alchesay laid a paw on the young fox's shoulder.
He immediately batted it aside.
"I said stay out of this!"
Four feet away, the eye that had been watching though the crack of the rehearsal room doorway had widened to the diameter of a cue-ball. Good God, it was him, the fox Max March only knew from the webcasts he'd seen. He was here…right here, almost near enough to touch!
"Sweet cheez n' CRACKERS!"
A thousand conflicting emotions went raging through the young buck bunny. Part of him wanted to go out there and shake Conor Lewis's paw, while another part wanted to kick open the stage door and get in HIS face, "Don't you talk to her like that, creep!." Still another part of him wanted to make a fast draw for his phone-cam–Zack would never believe this–while another part wanted to break into either 'I Fought the Law,' or 'We're Not Gonna Take It.'
What Max didn't want to do right now was to go and find a police officer. No way was he going to inform on this fox…the one who'd finally stood up to The System and told it like it is.
NO!
WAY!
On the other side of the door, Dana Alchesay looked halfway ready to bite Conor Lewis's face off. Just the same, she stepped back as ordered.
And that was when Erin's voice finally returned.
"Conor, I'm sorry…I-I."
"You shut up and listen!" he growled, whipping his finger away from her face and pointing it in the direction of the stage. "If your fluffy little tail isn't out there in thirty seconds, MINE will be…and here's what I'm gonna tell everybody." He made a sound that might have been a snarl or possibly just clearing his throat. And then his voice turned high and sarcastic. "Hi everyone; sorry if this isn't what you expected to see, but Erin's too 'fraid to get out on the stage…so they sent me along as a surrogate fox. Oh, by the way, I'm Conor Lewis."
All three of his friends gasped.
"Conor, no!" Dana Alchesay's ears were falling sideways and she was backing away with her tail between her legs, "You do that and you'll never make it out of here without getting caught; there's cops all over the place!"
"That's right; you'll be arrested, certainly." Saad al-Zaqir had returned to wings and now he was practically caterwauling.
The young fox only shrugged, "Then that's what's gonna happen," he said, once again fixing Erin in his gaze, "unless you decide to stop it. What's it gonna be, Snowdrop; you gonna get out there and rock or do we BOTH crash and burn?"
She only stood there, shaking spasmodically as if she'd been tazed.
"Fine," Conor sniffed and then growled. "You know what, the HECK with those thirty seconds!" And turning on his heel, he stomped off in the direction of the stage.
And that was what finally broke the spell; with a cry of dismay, Erin went rushing after him, paw outstretched. She was less than an inch away from his collar, when a chorus of horrified voices pulled her up short.
"No, rabbit!"
"Don't do thet!"
"Don't ever grab him from behind!"
She halted instantly in her tracks, turning quickly in the direction of the noise. What she saw was a trio of horrified faces…beginning to soften with relief.
But then she remembered…
"Oh, NO!"
She spun furiously back in the direction she'd been going…and there was Conor, standing with folded arms and one ear higher than the other? "Well?"
Erin's face tightened up like a drumhead, and then her ears were pulling backwards and her teeth were gnashing together.
"I HATE you!" she spat, and then stormed past him and onto the stage.
Conor watched her go and then HE turned around.
What his friends saw was an almost completely different fox from the one that popped out of that trapdoor only moments ago; his fur was lying flat, and his ears were falling sideways. His tail, which might have belonged to a porcupine in the midst of his tirade, was limp and dragging on the floor. So were his eyes.
"Sorry, had to do it," he mumbled, trying to look up again and failing.
"It's all right, Conor," Saad replied, laying a paw on the young fox's shoulder. "We understand."
"How'd you know that work, though?" It was Jason, head tilted sideways in canine confusion.
The young fox looked at him for a second, and then looked away.
"I-I-I didn't–but it was the only thing I could think of." And then his back stiffened and his shoulders squared. "But don't get me wrong over here," he growled, glancing backwards at the departing doe-bunny. "I meant what I said just now; I really didn't go through all that stuff just to watch her up and quit…especially that stinkin' bathroom, and I DO mean stinkin'." When he looked at his buds again, he was no longer contrite, but still hesitant. "Uhm, but uh, someone wanna go help her get plugged in?"
Saad immediately took off after the young white-furred bunny. Conor nodded approvingly and then strode back over to the hole from which he'd sprung.
"Wha…?" Dana was staring at him, bewildered, "Conor…aren't you going to stay and watch Erin's audition?
He only smiled. "Ohhh yeah, I'm gonna watch her, 'yote-girl…best seat in the house." And then he pointed to the trap-door, "Gimme a paw with that?"
When Erin Hopps stepped out of the wings, a wave of applause greeted her, mostly of the polite variety. The exception was the response from the twelfth row, left of center, where her family was cheering wildly. The girls in her posse went one better, chanting her name in unison, "Er-IN! Er-IN! Er-IN! Er-IN!" There were also a lot more animals left in the audience that she would have expected, most of them wearing electric-chartreuse hoodies.
The young doe bunny was aware of none of it; right now, she had only ONE thing on her mind.
"Snotty, arrogant…who does he think?…blackmail ME!…Ooooo, just wait until ….show HIM…He'll be…talk to ME that way?...HATE foxes…just WAIT!"
One ear went up higher than the other as she became aware of someone following her. When she swung round to face the interloper, at least part of her hoped that it was Conor–so she could feed him her bass, the hard way.
Sorry, no soap; it was only that sand cat, Saad-what-his-name.
Erin Hopps wasn't the only female in the vicinity feeling fit to be tied right then. Just outside the shrubbery skirting the theater's exterior, Officer Kii Catano was developing a serious craving for a squirrel sandwich.
"Sir, with all due respect, cheetahs are built for pursuit across open country, not through the underbrush." She was speaking on her cell phone rather than her two-way…which made it all the more tempting to say something she knew she'd regret later. A radio call can be overheard by anyone tuned in to the correct frequency; not so, a phone conversation.
That little, blankety-blank nut-cruncher would be able to hear her though…and his ear was the one that mattered.
"Spare me the excuses, Catano," His incisors snapped together as he spoke, "You let him get away, pure and simple."
She closed her eyes and counted to three. "Big-headed little…"
"One more time Lieutenant, please…our suspect did NOT get away, he only ducked into the bushes when he saw me. He's still there; he hasn't escaped us, not by a long shot."
Tufts didn't want to hear it. "You should have nabbed him before he…"
"Look, even I can't cover twenty yards in half a second!" Catano cut him off in mid-sentence. Big mistake, but she didn't care; she'd had it up to here with this bushy-tailed jerk. "Go ahead, write me up! A cheetah can take only just so much."
"And may I remind you sir, we've got every square foot of that row of trees covered, either by an officer or a drone. That fox-kid's not going anywhere, Lieutenant. Sooner or later, he'll have to break cover. And when he does, he's ours."
She expected him to come back with something on the order of "He'd better be!"
Instead all she heard was a noise like someone blowing up a beach ball. It was Tufts, taking deep breaths and then exhaling.
Finally, much more equable, he said, "All right, do you need any extra back up?"
"Mmmmm, I could use a couple more bodies," Catano replied warily. She'd seen him like this before and knew that it might only be the calm before the storm.
"All right," Tufts nodded and then pointed to a pair of officers, "Swinton, Jackson…go out there and assist Officer Catano."
"On it sir," they replied in unison, only too happy to exit the Kaibab squirrel's presence.
"All right, help's on the way Catano, keep me posted." He rang off without another word and then turned to look up at the monitors again. On the center screen, Erin Hopps was approaching the microphone. Holy cracked filberts, what the heck was her problem? She looked madder than that cheetah had sounded just now. Never mind; here was the opportunity to make the fox kid give away his hiding place.
"You're so sly, but so am I," the Kaibab squirrel recited under his breath, and then turned around and spoke once more to the command truck as a whole. "Where's that helicopter?"
Erin Hopps, meanwhile, said nothing to Saad al-Zaqir as the sand-cat helped her plug in her bass and then adjusted the mike to match her height. But when she happened to glance to the left, her ears immediately went back against the nape of her neck...so hard, they made a slapping sound.
Oops, no…that was sound of her foot thumping.
Four feet over, set against the rim of the stage was a shell-like structure, resembling an old-fashioned footlight—the prompter's box. And there inside of it, invisible to the audience and the kids in the wings, was an unpleasantly familiar face.
"Oooo, you shifty, no-good, two-faced, jerk! You want to see me rock? I'll SHOW you how I rock!"
She waved to Saad, telling him he could go, and then turned in Mike's direction, rolling her paw in the air, signaling for the rat to crank it.
And then she clicked a pedal on her effects board and began to play…
Erin opened her song on a two note lick that might almost have been a heartbeat. Sitting in the prompter's box Conor Lewis's face was a mask of confusion. What the heck, was she gonna sing 'Breathe' by Pig Floyd or something?
No, she wasn't; at that instant Erin broke into a fast seven note riff, repeating it a second time just as the background music came up; drums with just a hint of guitar behind them. On the third rep, she began to sing—belting it out in a take-no-prisoners, scorched-earth vocal.
" You can climb the mountain
You can swim the se-ea-ea-eeeea
You can jump into the fire,
But you'll never be free! "
She finished up the verse with a glare at the prompter's box. That's right fox-jerk; you never WILL be free! You'll be running for the rest of your life…IF you don't get busted first.
Conor Lewis was seriously humbled—or he would have been if he'd been paying attention. At the moment, however, his eyes were glued to his laptop screen.
"What the HECK? You gotta be kidding with that stuff, Tuffguy!"
Rising up over the back of the audience, he saw the spiraling form of a helicopter, with an animal leaning out through the side window. Conor was unable to identify his species, but even on a laptop screen, there was no mistaking the telephoto camera clutched in his paws…or the ZPD logo stenciled on the side of the aircraft. Dangit, if that thing got any closer it would drown out Erin's singing…or at least damp it down.
"You nut-cracking little dirt-bag, I don't think so," the young fox growled, typing rapidly into his computer.
" You can shake me up
Or I can bring you dow-howwwn! "
Conor couldn't help but appreciate the irony.
"Ohhh yeah…I'll bring you down; EAT it, flyboy!"
Inside the helicopter, the klipspringer in the pilot's seat was reeling back in stunned surprise. The display just right of the oil pressure gauges had gone suddenly and completely blank "I don't believe it; the kid's got a GPS jammer!"
Not good, not good at all; without global positioning, it would be impossible to hold position at this altitude.
Well…actually it wouldn't—if you didn't mind the having the Zootopia Aviation Administration jump all over your tail. Over a populated area, flying this low without GPS was a strict no-no.
He immediately hit the call-button.
Tufts' reaction to the news was not what anyone might have expected. To hear him, you might almost have assumed he was grooving to Erin's musical performance…
" Whoa-ho-oh-oh-oh-ohhhhh! "
"Got you!" he chittered.
Several officers stared in confusion as the squirrel threw a fist in the air. When he spoke into his headset again, he was practically gleeful. "Roger that, Aerial-1; go ahead and pull back until you're out of jamming range—and then stand by for further instructions. Command out." To the rest of the crew, he said, "Ohhh-kay, the kid fell for it; get a trace on that GPS jammer, stat!"
"He'll be running it by remote sir," one of the techs, a beaver, pointed out. "I would."
Tufts only smiled, "Yes, and in order to do that, he'll have to maintain communication with it."
The beaver was not persuaded.
"All right sir, but… now that the helicopter's leaving, can't he…?"
"He can, but he won't." the squirrel interrupted, nodding in the direction of a display panel. "If he shuts down that jammer now, there'll be nothing to stop us from bringing the chopper back…and he knows it. Noooo, he'll leave it on at least until Ms. Hopps is done with her performance. And THAT's how we'll nail the little jerk—unless Catano gets him first." He clicked his teeth again. "Either way, stick a fork in that fox-kid, he's done."
" We can make each other happy…
We can make each other happy…
We can make each other happy…
We can make each other HAP-PY!… "
Erin Hopps was singing like she'd never sung before, singing her heart out; singing her soul out. She didn't care what the audience thought; she didn't care what her posse and/or family thought, she didn't even care what the JUDGES thought. The only thing that mattered right now was teaching that slimeball silver-fox a lesson he'd never forget.
Only dangit, what the heck was wrong with her pedal-board? The stupid echo-plex wasn't working.
All right, fine, she'd just do it herself.
" Wha-OW!…OW…Ow…Ow…ow…ow…ow…! "
Finishing up on the whoop, Erin allowed herself a half-second's glance in Conor's direction. His face was unreadable but ahhhh…there was no mistaking those ears. They were sticking up so far they seemed to have lengthened by a good two inches.
"And if you think THAT was kick-tail, foxy, I still have once more verse to throw at you; listen to this!"
She turned back to the mike-stand and gave it everything she had—and then some.
" YOU CAN CLIMB THE MOUNTAI-AI-AAAAAIN,
YOU CAN SWIM THE SEA-HEA… "
Erin sang the last verse with the voice of a fallen angel, soaring like an eagle and searing like dragon-fire, all at the same time. A few minutes ago, even she wouldn't have known she had it in her. In fact, she still didn't know. All she knew at the moment was her song; even her pique at Conor was beginning to fad from her psyche. It was her and the music and nothing else.
She hit the final refrain like a truck crashing a barrier…and who needs an echo-pedal anyway?
" WE CAN MAKE EACH OTHER HAPPY!
WE CAN MAKE EACH OTHER HAP-Hap-Hap-hap-hap…
WE CAN MAKE EACH OTHER HAP-Hap-Hap-hap-hap…
WE CAN MAKE EACH OTHER HAAAAPPY "
….And then into the final bit, a long, extended wail that seemed to rise up from the depths of an eternal abyss.
" WAAAAAH-AH-AAAAAHHHHHH-AH-AH-AH-AH-AH-OH-OH-OH-OH-OHHHHH-OH-OH-Oh-Oh-Oh-oh-oh-oh-ohhhhh. ''
But the young doe-bunny wasn't done just yet. Oh-kayyy, she had shown everybody how she could sing; now it was time to show off her bass-playing skillZ….and the opportunity was coming up in 4…3…2…
At this point, in the original version of 'Jump Into the Fire,' the song goes into an extended drum solo, toms only, no cymbals.
Not this time; what happened next was what finally made Conor Lewis's jaw drop open. "Holy foxtrot, she's playing it as a SLAP-BASS solo!"
Yes she was and she was tearing it up; fingers moving too fast for the eye to follow, thumps and pops coming almost too fast for the ear to follow.
It was breathtaking.
"How the heck is she even DOING that?" The young fox could only marvel.
Erin could have left it right there…but nooooo; instead she went into a repeat of the scat-vocal at the end of the first two verses.
" Whoa-ho-oh-oh-oh-ohhhhh! "
…With one or two variations:
" Ahhh-ha-ah-ah-ah-haaaaaaahhhh! "
" Yeah-heah-eah-eah-eah-ehhhhhh! "
The white-furred young doe-bunny would never know exactly where the idea came from, but when it hit her, there was no turning back. Yes, it was off-script. Yes, it might backfire. And yes, it would probably put her over the time limit.
No, she didn't care.
And so the next line Erin sang came from a completely different tune than the one she'd been performing, delivered on an ascending rather than descending note, and punctuated with a bass-slap on the three words at the end.
" Whoa-oh…oh-oh-oh-ah. Whoa-oh-oh….Oh-oh-oh-ohhhhh…in the dark-dark!
Whoa-ohhhh…oh-oh-ohhhh-ah. Whoa-oh-oh….Oh-oh-ho-ohhhhhhhh…in the dark-dark! "
And then, she just ripped into it
" So light 'em up, up, up! Light 'em up, up, up! Light 'em up, up, up….I'm on fi-yarrrr!"
Light 'em up, up, up! Oh, light 'em up, up, up! Light 'em up, up, up….I'M ON FIII-YARRRRR! "
" Whoa-oh…oh-oh-oh-ah. Whoa-oh-oh….Oh-oh-oh-ohhh…in the dark-dark! "
Before she could go any further, the crowd sang it back to her.
" Whoa-ho…oh-oh-ohhhh-ah. Whoa-oh-oh….Oh-oh-ho-ohhhhh…in the DARK-DARK!
Erin couldn't resist. Stand back mammals, it's improve time!
"Ohhh-kay…try this one: Whoa-ah-ah-ahhhhh, whoa-ho-ho-ho…whoa-ohhhh-ohhhh-ahh. "
The kids in the audience duly complied, " Whoa-ah-ah-ahhhhh, whoa-ho-ho-ho…whoa-ohhhh-ohhhh-ahh. "
And so she gave them another one.
" Whoa-yeeeeah, aaaahhh. "
And they gave it right back to her.
" Whoa-yeeeeah, aaaahhh. "
And again…
" Whoa-ah-ah-ah-oh. "
" Whoa-ah-ah-ah-oh. "
And again…
" Yeah-whoa-oh-ohhhh-oh! "
" Yeah-whoa-oh-ohhhh-oh! "
And then, just when it seemed the young doe-bunny had no more stops to pull ...she let it totally all hang out, sending her voice straight up through the stratosphere, to infinity and beyond.
" MY SONGS KNOW WHAT YOU DID IN THE DAAAH-AH-AH-AH-AH-AHHRRRRRRK! ''
At that instant, the background music ended…but Erin still had her bass—and her voice.
And she knew how to use them; one more for the road!
" WE CAN MAKE EACH OTHER HAP-PY! "
A final slap of the strings, and then she was turning once again in the direction of the prompter's box.
Only….why did her head feel like a helium balloon? And why was the stage turning into a merry-go-round? The answer came a millisecond later, when she felt her knees go wobbly. Ohhh, no…no way. She was NOT going to give that silver-fox jerk the satisfaction.
Grabbing her bass by the neck, Erin lifted it upwards and instead of fighting the fall, she went with it.
She landed on the stage in a three-point stance, with her instrument high above her head, breathing hard and still dizzy…but also still conscious. At that instant, she heard the sound of a gong, pealing out from the PA system.
She had finished, just under the wire. And with that realization, the world began to steady itself.
"There!'"she thought, turning yet again in the direction of the prompter's box, "Maybe that'll teach you… HUH?"
From out beyond the stage, a roar was sweeping over her. Forgetting about Conor for the moment, Erin shifted her gaze—and saw that everyone in the audience was on their feet and cheering like a hurricane; everyone, even the judges.
"Well don't just sit there, DUMB bunny, stand up and take a bow!"
She almost responded with something snarky, before realizing it wasn't Conor; that was her inner voice talking.
Getting shakily to her feet, Erin bent from the waist, just ever so slightly, lest she bring on the faint again.
In response, her girlZ took up the chant again: "Er-IN! Er-IN! Er-IN! Er-IN! Er-IN!"
Only this time it spread through the crowd to the rest of the kids—who joined in at once, and then kicked it up to the next level.
"ERRR-IN! ERRR-IN! ERRR-IN! ERRR-IN! ERRR-IN! ERRR-IN!"
That was when the young white-furred bunny felt the tears coming back—because at that moment, she knew; never mind what Dr. Vignius had said earlier, she knew.
"Sweet cheez n' crackers, I did it…I'm in; I'm going to ZAPA!"
Only then did she remember and turn her gaze towards the prompter's box.
There was nobody inside; it was empty.
"ERRR-IN! ERRR-IN! ERRR-IN! ERRR-IN! ERRR-IN! ERRR-IN! ERRR-IN!"
Author's Note:
The song(s) Erin sings can be found on Youtube by searching for Jump Into the Fire. You want the original by Nilsson and the Chris Cornell cover. The bit she does at the end is My Songs Know What You Did in the Dark by Fall Out Boy. The Boys of Zummer live version is the way to go.
As for the songs that preceded hers...I think you can find Carrera's tune for yourself, and yes she's based on, well...Carrera is the model name of car from which automobile company? To find Natasha's song, search for 'Belle' together with 'Lend Me Your Voice'