Disclaimer: Zootopia stories, characters, settings, and properties belong to the Walt Disney Co. This story is written under Fair Use Copyright laws.


The Fire Triangle


Part Two:

Oxidizer


Chapter 6—The Children's Crusade
(Continued…Part 2)

There is a thing about violence; once unleashed, it usually tends to escalate.
Joseph WambaughLines and Shadows.


Monday—01:07 Hours, ZPD Youth Detention Center, Zootopia.

The first one to notice was a fifteen-something kid from the Marshlands District, a capybara named Chato Ratagrande. Chato hadn't participated in the 'ZAPA Riot', as it was coming to be called; he only wished he had. He would have been there for sure if he hadn't been stuck in jail; busted for shoplifting, his third strike—which meant sorry kid, no probation or community service for you; say hello to Juvie.

With hardly anything left to lose, he'd been one of the first kids out of his cell when the doors opened, and had happily joined in the rain of trash that followed.

Now, he was downstairs, prowling around the floor of the common area. Most of the other detainees were staying away from this part of the jail, a rubbish-strewn swamp, courtesy of the fire sprinklers. Chato didn't care. Capybaras were a semi-aquatic species; water didn't bother him. As for all the garbage, even now this place made his neighborhood in the Marshlands look like Ritz City. For him at least, it was no big deal.

In fact, he found it the whole thing downright boring. He was just preparing to make for the stairs, when the music stopped and the lights came on. For a moment, everyone froze, afraid the ZPD had once more regained control of the situation. But then a new tune began to play over the PA, one with which the young detainees were a bit more familiar than its predecessor.

"Oh, you wired me awake
And hit me with a paw of broken claws
Yeah, you tied my lead and pulled my chain
To watch my blood begin to boil

But I'm gonna break, I'm gonna break my
I'm gonna break my rusty cage and run."

Chato would later say it had been his late, beloved, big-brother Paco guiding him at that moment. Whatever the case, just then he happened to turn and look towards the rear of the commons—and he thought he noticed something.

It was difficult to be certain—capybaras aren't noted for having the keenest eyesight—but it appeared as if the indicator light above the service door, which normally glowed red, was instead bright green.

Hurrying over as best he could—he had to pick his way past the heaps of debris, Chato saw, as he came closer, that the light was indeed green.

Fine…but did that mean…?

Stretching up to reach the door handle, he shut his eyes for a second, took a breath, and pulled downwards.

The next thing he did was turn and call through cupped paws. "Hey guys, looka this, it's open…we can get outta here!"

Only two other kids heard him over the music…but that was enough. One of them, a swamp rat, turned a fast 180 and went scurrying up the stairs for the top floor, spreading the news as he went. The other, a Javanese Rhino, was one of the few detainees with a big enough voice to be heard over the PA…if only just barely

Monday—01:34 Hours, 897 Yakusugi Dr., Old Growth City, Zootopia

"Dad, my phone's ringing!"

"So, let it ring and go to voice-mail, Bette," the Kaibab squirrel half mumbled, half groaned, rolling over in his bed and pulling himself into an even tighter ring of fur. That should have been the end of it, but instead…

"Daaaad, it won't stop!"

Even that might not have been enough to rouse Albert Tufts from his admittedly fitful sleep—except that right then, his son came scurrying through the door.

"Dad, my phone won't quit ringing!"

"All right, all right, I'm up, I'm up," Tufts grumbled and swung his feet over the side of the bed. Ahhh, what time was it anyway? "Okay Tommy, go ahead and answer it."

"I tried," the younger Kaibab squirrel answered, punctuating his words with a whine, "but it won't connect."

"Mine won't either," his daughter chimed in.

Tufts rubbed the back of his neck and held out a paw. "Ohhh-kay, give them here."

Chrrrr, after the day he'd just had, he did NOT need this—and tomorrow was going to be even worse. Tomorrow he was going to have to tell his ex about his suspension from the ZPD. And knowing Marjorie, she'd pretend to be disappointed while being secretly overjoyed. Ever since their split, she had never missed a chance to twist the knife a little.

These thoughts were instantly dispelled when the Alpaxa module beside his bed woke up and joined the chorus.

"Answer your phone, Tuff-Guy… Answer your phone, Tuff-Guy… Answer your phone, Tuff-Guy."

At once, the Kaibab squirrel was fully and completely awake. There were only two animals he knew of who addressed him by that name…and only one of them would pull a stunt like this.

"You dirty…SNEAKING little…!"

"Okay kids, leave the phones on the table there and go back to bed. I'll handle this." His voice was as crisp as dried leaves.

"But dad, what about…?"

"I…said…GO!" the squirrel repeated, stabbing with a finger in the direction of the door. And this time they obeyed him without question.

Tufts waited until he heard their doors close before snatching up the cell-phone closest to his paw. And now he could see that it was him all right, there'd be no mistaking that caller ID—Pigasus.

To the squirrel's complete lack of surprise, when he pressed the connect button it worked just fine.

Of course it did; all that little fox-thug needed to do was use the onboard-camera to see who'd picked up and…presto, nothing to it!

Tufts slapped the phone hard against his face. "You rotten little punk! I don't care what your problem is with ME, but you leave my kids…!"

That was as far as he got before a taut, silvery screech burst out of the speaker, causing him to yank the phone away from his ear—but only for a second. He immediately put it back.

"Too late, Lewis…I already told Chief Bogo…"

Another screech, but shorter this time, and then he heard the voice of his bête noir.

"Shut up and listen, Tuff Guy; Precinct-1 just got hit by a cyberattack."

Had it been anyone else speaking, those words would have stopped the Kaibab squirrel cold—but not if they were coming from this kid. He curled a fist and rolled his eyes. "Do you seriously expect me to believe…?"

"Why would I lie, babe?" the young fox shot back fast, "Take you two minutes to check."

And that was what finally made Albert Tufts shut up and be quiet…because it would take him less than one minute to verify the story—and no way was this fox-kid unaware of that fact.

"All right, I'm listening."

"Okay, now pay attention," the voice on his phone was now clearly recognizable as that of Conor Lewis. "First, they locked down the database and then they turned on the fire alarms and sprinklers."

Tufts felt his tail beginning to flip. "That was only a distraction. What was the real target…do you know?"

"Youth Detention," the young fox answered at once, "They got the officers trapped in the Lieutenant's office, and then opened all the cell doors…and the loading dock door and all the doors between there and the detention center. So far, the kids haven't found…Ohhhh, fox no…bag that Tuff Guy, yeah they have; the word's just beginning to spread."

"Ohhhh God!" Tufts gasped, no longer caring who was on the other end of the call. "They'll stampede when…"

He heard a sound like a groan, or maybe a snarl, coming out of the cell phone speaker.

"Well, hang onto your walnuts, babe; it gets worse. That's the ONLY way in or out of that Precinct right now. They got every other door locked and sealed. The cops on riot duty can't get back inside the building, and no one on the inside can get out there to help them."

Tufts almost screamed; that was worse. When that mob of kids realized that the line of cops facing them was the ONLY opposition they were going to get….

These thoughts were cut off before they could go any further.

"You know what you need to do, Tuff-Guy. Don't bother notifying the other precincts; my partner's got that covered. Just get the code and get it uploaded, pronto."

"H-How do you know I even have it?" the Kaibab squirrel stammered. Good God, this kid…knew about the kill-code? No wonder he'd managed to avoid being captured for so long.

"I don't" Conor answered flatly, "but you're the only one on the outside who would. Now get going; whoever's doing this is prolly gonna finish up with a ransomware attack."

And with that, the call ended.

Tufts didn't bother to dwell on the fox-kid's farewell message—because he knew it was true. The final phase of that cyberattack would almost certainly be to encrypt the ZPD database with an unbreakable code. Only, unlike with a normal ransomware attack, there would be no demands for money in exchange for removing the encryption. The hackers would simply leave the police computer as it was, worthless and unusable—forever.

Thank God he did have the kill-code…only, how was he supposed to upload it from here? The first order of business in any cyberattack is to isolate the target, close it off to any and all access from the outside. Oh, he could hack his way inside, but that would take time…and time was a luxury he absolutely didn't have. No, there was only one way; the kill code would have to be uploaded directly into the servers, from inside the precinct. That would be simple enough, just load it onto a thumb drive, plug it into any Precinct-One workstation, give the file a double click, drag it to the 'servers' icon and hit 'enter'.

Fine, no sweat…except there was only one way in or out of Precinct-1 right now. And that one way led right through a horde of angry young detainees—or that was what the Lewis kid had told him anyway.

What the Lewis kid...had told…him.

Wait a second, was it true? Was any of it true? That little sneak had already hustled him once…and he was a fox, remember? Maybe, when he'd called, he'd already known that his little blackmail scheme had been short-circuited. Was this plan B for getting his friends out of jail?

No, the squirrel decided…no it wasn't. As the Lewis kid himself had already pointed out, his story would be easy-peasy to verify. And even if it wasn't, Tufts knew—somehow, deep in his gut, he knew that the fugitive young silver fox had been telling the truth.

"So get your bushy little tail downstairs and get to work!" his inner voice chided.

For a species capable of descending a tree face-down, staircases are a superlative, reserved for any guests not similarly abled—and the Tufts household was no exception; Albert made his way downstairs by way of a 'climbing column' erected next to the staircase, leaping off and onto the floor when he was only halfway down to ground level.

And then he scrambled into his private office.

While booting up his laptop it occurred to the Kaibab squirrel that he probably should have scrubbed the kill-code from his computer immediately following his suspension

"…Which only goes to show that not all memory lapses are bad ones," he reminded himself with a wry smile.

It took him practically no time to confirm the young silver fox's story. When he attempted to access the ZPD mainframe, he received an instant 'Error' message; he was, however, able to get through by phone to one of the few friends he had in the Department, Pete Zink, an armadillo who worked out of the Nocturnal District.

"We got tipped off just a few minutes ago, we're sending everything we've got," his friend assured him, apparently unaware of his suspension—or the reason for his call. Nonetheless, it was news that Tufts was more than happy to hear.

"Okay, thanks…I've got to go," the Kaibab squirrel told him, and then rang off without an explanation…not that one was needed, given the circumstances.

It took him less than a minute to find the code…but more than few to find a memory stick. Dangit, he thought he'd bought more than…oh wait, here we are.

Transferring the code onto the thumb-drive took less time than either one of those tasks. It was hard to believe that less than one Meg of data was all that would be needed to get the job done, but never mind; it was time to get moving again. He still had no idea as to how he was supposed to make his way intothe precinct after he got there; he supposed he would just have to wing it.

And on that note, he logged off, shut down, and was out the door in a flash. He could only hope the kids would go back to sleep and stay that way until…ahhhh nuts; he was going to have to call Mrs. Bayberry later and ask her, again, if she'd mind looking after Beth and Tommy until his Ex came to collect them. Ohhh, Marjorie was going to love that, but it couldn't be helped. He most probably wouldn't make it home again until this time tomorrow—if then.

Had he not been in such a hurry to get to Precinct-1, Tufts might have noticed something before he cleared out. When he'd clicked the 'shutdown' icon on his laptop, the computer had not shut off, only gone into 'sleep' mode…but with all the display lights out, which was WHY he hadn't caught the discrepancy.

A heartbeat after he was out the door, the computer whistled itself awake again…but only for a minute before it once again shut down—this time for real.

Monday—01:48 Hours, Undisclosed Location, Zootopia

"Okay, I've got it," Conor informed Guild over his headset, "Did you notify the other precincts?"

"Didn't need to," His partner answered, in an electronically mangled voice that sounded not unlike a talking blow-dryer. "The cops on the graveyard shift started showing up for work right after you called me. I don't know how they figured out what was going on, but by the time I made contact, they were already spreading the word."

"Oh, good," the young fox sighed through puffed cheeks and then put his relief away. That was only one small thing in their favor. "But listen, the minute I log back into the ZPD database that malware program's prolly gonna be all over me." It was actually a lot more than 'probably', but he wasn't about to reveal that information just yet.

"That's where I come in," Guild replied, in what might or might not have been a cool voice; it was impossible to tell with all this distortion. "I'll go in first and run some interference, and then you go in and upload the kill-code...and for God's sake, hurry."

"I will," the young fox promised, not at all sure if could manage it or not.

"Okay…get ready," Guild told him, "and Conor?"

"Yeah?"

"When this business is over, you and I are done!"

Monday—01:49 Hours, ZPD Precinct-1, Savanna Central, Zootopia.

As he fled along the third tier walkway, Max March had one thing going for him; the crush of kids impeding his progress was an even bigger hindrance for Craig Guilford. Because of his smaller size, the young buck rabbit was able to weave his way through the spaces in the crowd, too tight for a coyote to handle.

That became especially true when somewhere behind him, Craig made the silly mistake of trying to elbow his way past the wrong animal.

"Hey 'yote-fool, whatchoo think you DOIN', huh?"

Max had no idea who the speaker was, or even what species they were; he'd been keeping low so as to avoid being spotted. All he knew was that whoever it was, they were bigger than Craig…and that the voice he'd just heard had been much too close for comfort.

He turned and tried to move faster, still keeping his head down. That wouldn't stop the coyote from being able to track him by way of his nose; Max was fully aware of that fact. However he also knew that in a densely packed crowd like this one, picking out the scent of one single animal was a tough call, even for a canine species. Anyway, he felt safer like this…to be sure, by only the smallest of margins, but he'd take what he could get right now.

He might have felt even more secure if he'd been aware that the confrontation between his pursuer and the striped hyena had been heard by somebody else that he knew.

By rights, it shouldn't have happened; had Craig and that yeen kid not been cranking the volume on their exchange, Mac Cannon would never have known that the rogue coyote was this close to his hidey-hole.

"Move it Sparky, that bunny who snitched me out is getting…!"

"I don't care, dog…y'all stay out my face, hear?"

"No, you…get out of MY way!"

Ohhhh yes—Mac would have known that kid's voice anywhere.

Ever since the cell doors had opened, he'd been doing his best to keep out of sight—staying hidden beneath the bunkbed, in the cubicle where he'd taken refuge from the fire sprinklers.

It was a wise move, not an act of cowardice. The bobcat understood all too well that he was only one officer against a veritable legion of young miscreants. Heck, he wasn't even armed, no mace, no shield, no baton…no nothing. To step outside right now would be tantamount to suicide…much as he wished he could get out there and do something.

In any event, he had no intention of staying put when the ZPD struck back…which they would; of that he had no doubt. And when it happened, he intended to be right there, in the thick of things.

That plan went straight into the wastebasket the moment he caught wind of the argument taking place out on the walkway. Cautiously…as carefully as possible, the bobcat deputy poked his head around the corner, just in time to see the hyena kid stepping aside with his arms thrown up in disgust.

The next thing he saw was Craig….

"Holy cattails, he's headed THIS way."

Unable to resist, Mac pulled down into a crouch, readying himself. But then another pair of detainees went rushing past his cell, headed the other way. He didn't recognize the other feline—but that bunny, the one with silver-black fur…

"Huh? That looked like…Zack March."

Yes it was….and no one else had noticed him. Erin Hopps couldn't see him from where she was, and as for Craig Guilford—in his mania for laying some payback on Max March; he had completely missed the scent of his quarry's smaller cousin.

And it wasn't only Zack whose scent he'd hadn't caught; he had also failed to notice the scent of another young bunny, a young, white-furred doe-rabbit, following at a discreet distance.

Like Max, Erin had been able to thread her way through the crowd of young detainees with much greater ease than the coyote she'd been trailing. But it wasn't until he got face-to-face with the hyena that she was able to get close enough to see him. Only then did it occur to her that she was having a serious 'dumb bunny' moment. What the heck was she supposed to do now, get in Craig's face and ORDER him to back off?

No…but at the same time, she couldn't just lay back and donothing at all. That was why, when the young hyena moved aside and Craig moved past him, she continued to trail the vengeful young coyote.

Monday—01:52 Hours, Delta Rd., Sahara Square, Zootopia

They came screaming down the highway with lights blazing and sirens wailing; a convoy of seven vehicles, five cruisers, a SWAT van and a Tactical Command truck.

Some animals might have considered it overkill, sending this many cops to take on what was essentially nothing more than a gang of rowdy kids—especially considering that all the nearby districts were sending backup to Precinct-1. That, however, was Captain Maazalai's plan. By presenting the protesters with an overwhelming show of force, the Gobi bear hoped to make them stand down without any further need for a confrontation.

"Our first priority is to rescue the officers trapped inside of Precinct-One, not to make any busts," he had told his mammals before setting off, "If some of those kids get away because of that policy, so be it; I take full responsibility. Remember…they're not our main enemy; that title belongs to whoever's behind the cyber-attack. All right," he'd concluded, capping his pep-talk with a roar. "You all know what to do, so let's ROLLLLL!"

Now, someone rapped him on the shoulder, and when he looked, he saw Sergeant Omar al-Dhiyyib, an Arabian Wolf, pointing to the cell phone clipped to the Gobi bear's belt.

"Call, Captain," he shouted over the siren, "It looks like Chief Bogo."

Had it been anyone else on his cell-phone, Maazalai would have ignored them, but not this animal. With a nod of thanks to his sergeant, he snatched it up and connected.

He had never seen the big Cape buffalo looking so haggard—and why not, considering everything that had happened in the past 48 hours.

"Maazalai…please tell me you're on the road right now."

"On our way with everything we've got," the bear moved quickly to reassure his Chief, who looked only slightly encouraged.

And even that lasted for all of two seconds before his face turned stone-cold serious. "Good, good…but now listen, Captain. We're not the only ones calling in back-up. Outback Island managed to get a dragon-fly copter airborne and they're reporting large numbers of vehicles converging on Savanna Central—from all directions, and they're not ours."

Maazali took in a short, hard breath and then let it out slowly.

"Thank you, sir. I-If you'll excuse me, I need to alert my mammals."

"Yes, of course." Bogo answered and then rang off.

"Bismillah, how did those kids get the call out so quickly?" Sergeant al-Dhiyyib had heard what Bogo said, and now his tail was sticking out straight and frizzing.

"Via text…maybe through the internet, I don't know," Maazali informed him, trying to sound unconcerned. "And I don't have time to care, so start passing the word; when we get to Precinct-1, we're going to be facing a bit more resistance than we expected."

"Yes, s..." the wolf started to respond, before a voice from up front interjected.

"Captain; coming up on the Lion's Tail bridge."

…The boundary between Sahara Square and Savanna Central.

Maazali waited until his sergeant had spread the news, before embarking on a final briefing of his own.

"All right everyone, so it's not going to be as easy as…WHAT THE?"

It happened the moment they left the bridge and crossed over into Savanna Central. Without warning, the command truck began to lose speed and the roar of the engine muted to a dull purr.

"What now?" the Gobi bear snarled, pushing his way to the front of the truck, "Don't tell me we're out of FUEL!"

"N-No captain," the driver, a dromedary camel stammered, "It's just…I don't know." He toggled the key…once, twice, a third time. In all three instances, the engine cranked—a dry groaning noise—and refused to catch.

"GRRrrrMrrr, not NOW!" Maazali snarled, pounding a fist against the wall, and then snatched the radio from his belt, "Unit 5, Unit 5," he said, speaking to the SWAT van, "Unit 5, we're stalled. Get up here; we'll transfer command to you."

"That's a Roger, Captain," a voice answered snappily, but then a heartbeat later, it came back again. "Uhhh sir…l-looks we're stalled out too."

"Unit 3 unit 3….us too, I'm afraid, sir," another voice chimed in.

The Gobi bear threw back his head and roared. "What the ensen'suul'ga is going on here?"

Monday—02:03 Hours, Undisclosed Location, Zootopia

"What the foxtrot just happened to those guys?" Conor Lewis was asking, echoing Captain Maazalai's sentiment. He had been following the various relief convoys on the Jam-Cams…although he had, as yet, been unable to access the cameras inside of Precinct-1.

It was even worse than the bear had realized; not only was his column stuck, the others weren't going anywhere either, not the one from the Rainforest District, not the one from the Nocturnal District, not the one from Outback island…not any of them. It was almost as if some evil mage had cast a spell; the moment they entered Savanna Central, it was power off and dead in the water.

And while this was going on, what looked like dozens of UN-official vehicles were closing in on the district by way of the various side-streets. Ohhh God…they needed to get that code uploaded and right NOW.

A voice spoke flatly in his headset, "Lope-Jack."

"Lope…what?" Conor pressed the headset cans to his ears; had he heard that right?

"Lope-Jack," Guild repeated, half skittish and half impressed, "Anti-carjacking device, standard feature on all ZPD vehicles. Whoever hacked their database must have initiated some kind of universal activation protocol. Any cop-car entering Savanna Central gets turned off like a switch." A hiss of undulating white noise followed, the sound of someone letting out an anxious breath of air. "These creeps are smarter than I thought, kid; they knew they couldn't keep the other precincts from finding out what was happening and sending help—so they settled for the next best thing."

"You think there's more than one hacker working here?" the young fox asked; he had caught the use of 'they.'

"For something this big; I'm sure of it." His unseen compatriot seemed to be trying to maintain control. "Okay, I'm preparing to go in. Got the kill-code ready?"

Conor glanced at the far-right display screen. He would have preferred to use his VR headset, but in the aftermath of his fight with Judy, it had started giving him headaches whenever he wore it.

"Locked and loaded," he answered, trying to stay calm. The code might be good to go, but he wasn't sure if HE was.

"Okay," Guild told him, "When you go in, get it uploaded and get it done fast. I'm not going to be able to hold them off for long. Like I said, these guys are smarter than I thought. Once the servers are offline, we'll be okay…but until then we'll be practically wide open. Do you understand?"

"I…got it." Conor answered hesitantly. Yes, he understood…and he also understood that he had everything to lose by doing this.

But for his friends—and for Erin—what other choice did he have?

Monday—02:05 Hours, ZPD Precinct-1 Youth Detention Center, Savanna Central Zootopia

She had no idea of what the fugitive young silver fox was up to—or what Craig Guilford was up to; she had lost him in the crowd again.

Max March had the same issue; keeping close to the ground like this, he was unable to see the young coyote…or hear him. The surrounding noise had abated somewhat, but by not much. The shouting and screaming had stopped, but that was about it. With their initial anger spent, the young detainees were pretty much just milling around on the balconies. A few had even gone back to their cells; the news that the service door was open was still only beginning to spread. While a few kids had started making their way in that direction, they were taking their time and moving cautiously, as if they didn't quite believe what they'd heard.

Had Max known any of this, he'd have been moving a lot faster. He didn't and so he continued to pick his way carefully through the crowd. He was all too aware of how Craig had latched onto him the first time—when he'd almost knocked over that muskrat-girl and she'd screamed at him, "What's your PROBLEM, bunny?"

He was not about to repeat that mistake.

From somewhere below a voice called upwards, faint but audible, "Hey guyyyys…the service door's open, we can get OUT of here!"

At first there was no reaction…but then someone else echoed the call, "Everyone, listen up; the back door's open!"

And then another voice called out…and another and another, "Back door's open!" "Service door's open!" "WE CAN GET OUT!"

On the fifth repetition, the gold rush started and everyone was scrambling for the stairs, even some of the kids who'd been staying in their cells. Many of these youngsters were members of this or that social species. Later, when it was over, they would admit that they'd had no idea of what was going on, they just hadn't wanted to be left behind; a textbook example of herd behavior.

As the crowd melted away around him Max March's heart was pounding like a sewing machine. There went his cover; Craig would spot him now for sure.

And ohhh, Frith…there he was!

And…there he went, rushing full-tilt past the frightened young buck-rabbit without even so much as a sideways glance. Max caught only the merest glimpse of him, but that was enough; there was no mistaking that candy-orange jumpsuit.

For a second or two, he was puzzled…until he remembered why Craig was in here; on a charge of accessory to terrorism. That open door was probably the ONLY chance at freedom that he was ever going to get—and so he'd taken it. The bunny he'd thought had snitched on him could wait until later.

Fine, fine…but now Max wondered what HE should do? Head on back to his cell…DUH! Why make for the exit when he was getting out tomorrow anyway? And besides, he might run into Craig if he went outside.

But then his ears shot up as he became aware of a presence, mere inches in front of him. Ohhhh, no…it hadn't been Craig he had seen running past. He was finished, he was done; somehow the rogue coyote had been able to make an end run…

"Max…" the voice was a low hiss—and it didn't belong to Craig Guilford. Heaving a five-ton sigh of relief, the young buck-rabbit stood up quickly. Yep, it was him—together with the sand-cat he'd befriended earlier. All around them other kids were making for the stairs, paying none of them even the slightest attention.

"Zack, I…"

"Can it Cuz; you gotta get out of here, Craig Guilford's looking for you…"

Max didn't know whether to hug his cousin…or slap him. Well, DUH!

But that wasn't all Zack had to say.

"Listen Cuz, I just heard; the door to the loading dock's open. We can get out—MAX, BEHIND YOU!"

Too late; something seized his ears in a vice-grip and yanked him roughly off his feet. A split instant later, his legs were kicking in the air and he was being swung around to face burning eyes, laid-back ears and a full row of sharp, canine teeth. A hot, meaty breath was blowing in his muzzle.

"This is it, bun- snitch. Now, you're going to…OWWWOOOO!"

Something leapt onto the back of Craig's neck, gripping his head like an alien face-hugger. He felt cat-claws tearing at muzzle; heard an angry feline yowl in his eardrums.

"Let him go, chelb!"

The young coyote couldn't see his attacker…but he could smell him. It was the cat the snitch's cousin had brought along. He was a little guy, even smaller than Max, but what he lacked in size, he more than made up for in ferocity. Craig felt as if his cheeks were about to be torn right off his face…and now needle-sharp fangs were sinking into his scalp.

As if that wasn't enough, another cat was coming for him, much bigger than Saad al-Zaqir.

Mac Cannon had seen what was happening—and when he did, the HECK with staying put. He bolted from the cell where he'd been hiding, lunging full tilt for the rogue coyote. So surprised were the other kids mingling about the walkway that most of them got out of the bobcat's way…most, but not all; he had to shove a few of them aside, and they did not go easily. It made for several precious second's delay

"Let him GO!" Saad screamed again, and this time Craig complied…sort of. He didn't drop his prey but flung him against the wall. Max hit with a thud and crumbled in a fetal heap, his cousin Zack rushing instantly to his aid.

"Cuz, you okay?"

"I think…Ohhhh."

No…he wasn't

Behind them, Craig Guilford was staggering this way and that, frantically trying to pull the sand-cat from his head. He saw his world go dark and felt a burn around his eyes; Saad was digging his claws in around the sockets.

That was too much for Erin Hopps and she screamed. "Saad, let him GO!"

She had come upon the scene just in time to see Max March being thrown against the wall—which meant that Craig was now free to turn his full fury on the sand-cat clinging to his scalp. Dangit, why was that crazy feline doing this? Craig had let go of Max, and look…here comes Mac Cannon.

Perhaps in his frenzy, the sand-cat wasn't aware that Craig had already set Max March free; or maybe he was just enraged at the manner in which the angry young coyote had released his prey.

No one would ever know because at that instant Craig Guilford stepped into a smear of something greasy on the floor. All at once, his feet shot out from under him and then he was falling backwards; a vaudeville comedian in a banana-peel skit.

But there was nothing funny about what happened next. Craig fell so hard and fast that Saad was unable to let go in time. His head hit the walkway with a sickening crack…and now, at last, he let go of this adversary.

In an eyeblink, the coyote was on his feet again. Cushioned by the clinging sand-cat, he had come through the fall completely unhurt.

Except for those claw marks on his face…

With a snarl of unbridled rage he grabbed the stricken feline by the scruff of the neck and lifted him up like a war-trophy.

Six feet away, Mac Cannon saw what he was doing…and knew what was about to happen next. He gathered his legs and leaped for all he was worth—just as Craig hurled the unconscious sand-cat over the third floor railing and down to the floor below.

Mac almost got there in time, but 'almost' only counts in pitching pennies. Their fingertips brushed lightly against each other—and then Saad was gone. Mercifully, no one heard the impact.

…Mostly because of Erin Hopps' terrified scream. "NOOOOOO!"

Mac Cannon, meanwhile, had put a little too much effort into his Hail-Mary leap, nearly going over the railing himself. And this time, 'nearly' did count for something—because it took the bobcat several seconds to pull himself back onto the walkway. And that gave Craig Guilford just enough time to come up with an idea. He too began to scream…but in his case, it was a cry of horror mixed with anger.

"You killed him! You killed him!" he cried, jabbing an accusing finger at the Burrow County deputy, "Dirty, rotten cop, you killed that kid!"

That…put a stop to the rush for the exit. All around the bobcat and coyote, kids were halting in their tracks and staring with shocked expressions. They seemed to be wondering if they'd heard right—and where the heck had this deputy come from?

Wa-i-i-it a minute…a deputy?

The MAMMAL?

"Why, you…!" Mac yowled in fury, baring his claws and fangs. But before he could even begin to make a move, a quintet of other kids got quickly between him and the young coyote…and then began to close in on him. All five were bigger than the bobcat; a lot bigger…and at least three of their number were apex predators, a tiger and two polar bears. Mac turned to run the other way but found his path blocked yet again, this time by an elephant and a water buffalo.

"You…JERK!" the elephant blared, and then blew an angry note through his trunk

"No!" Erin screamed again, "Leave him alone he didn't do anything! God, please, NO!" She tried to rush forward, but someone stepped from the crowd, blocking her path.

It was Craig Guilford…and there was no mistaking the blinding-white hatred in his eyes. If he couldn't get his paws on Max March…she would serve nicely as a substitute.

Her feet wanted nothing more than to turn and run; her head knew better, that was exactly what the rogue coyote wanted her to do.

Okay, but what should she do? Ohhhh, if only…

"Dana, please…help me…"

In front of her, Craig had dropped to all fours, hackles raised, hind-legs bunched, the full fury of his teeth exposed. She could almost feel the heat of his breath.

And in that instant, the young doe bunny knew her next move, the answer coming not from the absent girl-coyote, but from within.

Craig was stalking her now, moving stealthily in her direction—while she fought off the urge to drop into a crouch herself.

"Don't do it, Erin," her inner voice commanded, "Don't do it; you'll give the game away. Just pretend to back away…as if you're going to make a run for it. That's it; keep it up. Keep…"

With a guttural snarl, the berserk young coyote plunged straight at her.

"Wait…wait…NOW!"

Craig's jaws snapped shut on empty air as Erin leaped up in a high arc…giving it everything she had. She landed hard on the small of the crazed coyote's back, driving him into the floor and then sprang up again—coming to rest on the shoulder of a young polar bear in a biker bandanna…who did not appreciate the intrusion.

"Off, rabbit!" he snarled, swiping with bared claws. Erin leapt just in time to avoid the blow, but this time she had jumped without thinking and landed smack on top of the walkway railing. That was a neat trick if you meant to do it, but she HADN'T meant it…and now she felt herself tilting backwards over the floor. She began to windmill her arms, trying frantically to regain her balance, but it was no use; she was going over, she was going to…

Something seized her by the wrists and pulled her off the railing. She dropped heavily onto the floor of the walkway, face down.

When she looked up again, she saw Max Marc, together with his cousin Zack, he was leaning on the smaller bunny for support.

"Erin, are you okay?" he asked her.

"I-I'm all right," she answered shakily.

"What about Saad, is he okay, did you see what happened to him?" It was Zack March, wringing his paws as he spoke.

"I…don't know." Erin hated to lie, but this was not the time or place to tell him what she'd seen. She couldn't even bring herself to think about it right now. "But Craig…" that part she couldn't help but mention.

"We know…Max nodded nervously, and then seemed to come to a decision. "Erin, go, get out of here; they got the loading dock open, you can get out that way." He grimaced and looked away for a second, "it's me that whack-job coyote thinks snitched on him, not you."

The tone of his voice brought the young, white-furred bunny to a decision of her own.

"Max, no… we can all…"

"No, we can't," he cut her off and pointed to his ankle…now swollen to the size of a water-balloon. "I think it's broke, Erin. Even with both of you to help me, I'd never make it down those stairs. Just get your tail out of here; I'll be okay…just GO!"

She nearly raised another protest, but then a slurred growl came from somewhere behind and to the left. Craig Guilford was coming to—and he did NOT sound like a happy camper.

"Take care of him, Zack," she said.

"I will," she heard the smaller bunny promise, and then she turned and bounded away.

…right into a traffic-jam; the stairs leading to the floor below weren't nearly as spacious as the walkways—and there were kids crowding onto it from all four levels, not just the third one.

For the next few minutes, time seemed to be taking a breather as she moved in lock step towards the stairway and then downwards. It was like the opening scene from that old, silent, sci-fi flick, Zootropolis; the workers marching to and from the power plant in measured baby steps.

Erin kept her patience until she reached the second story landing, where even more animals were joining the procession—all of them mid-sized species. Now things were really moving at a crawl.

Ohhh-Kay, she decided, the floor below was close enough. She heaved herself atop the bannister and jumped.

It was a decision she instantly came to regret. No, it wasn't too much of a drop—but the floor beneath her was soaked and the water was filthy.

…As the young, white furred bunny quickly found out when she landed; now, below the waist, she was an off-white bunny…and a speckled one up above.

Luckily for her, getting dirty is par for the course when you come from a farm family. Shaking off her disgust, she hurried in the direction of the door to the loading dock.

Ohhhh carrot-sticks, it looked like an even bigger squeeze in there than on the stairs…and now there were large-species animals in the mix. That would make for some gaps and openings she could slip through—but it would also make for a risky proposition. One false step, one wrong move and she'd be stomped into rabbit pizza. She would have turned back already, except…somewhere behind her Craig Guilford was lurking, a coyote with a thirst for vengeance.

And getting hold of Max March wouldn't be nearly enough to slake that thirst. He was going to want more…much more. Erin knew that for an absolute; she had seen the blood-lust in his eyes.

"A-And he's already killed once, remember?" The young doe-bunny's inner voice shakily reminded her.

THAT was the clinching argument. Gritting her teeth, she began threading her way through the crowd, towards the hallway leading to the loading dock.


Author's Note:

Today's episode will be the first of three installments that I will be publishing over the course of the week. I'm not sure exactly when the next two will be posted, but I'm up to the third draft on both of them.