08
live & let die
A reminder to everyone that this work is under 'T or PG-13' rating as it contains situation that would require some form of 'trigger warning' (like assault, blood, suicide, violence, etc.) which the author (yours truly) wants to reiterate with an imperative sentence: PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.
At the same time both his arms were gripped, Jack was pressed down in his chair.
Opposite him, nowhere near the table, stood Mousawitz, a large polar bear grasping his tail. They were in a smaller mammal cell — to their right and left were three more polar bears in black coat with guns trained on them.
There was a sharp hiss of a garage lift, and the table settled quietly to the floor. The jackrabbit glanced up to see a faint join of a trapdoor a foot above their heads.
'Enjoying the ride are, we? Take it easy, gentle mammals.' One of the hit mammals grinned when the rodent let out a string of harsh obscenities.
'Which one is the whistle-blower?' asked another to the boar who had spoken. He seemed to be the mammal in charge from the way the pistol he held trained lazily on Jack's heart. There was a glint of mother-of-pearl between his massive paw pads on the stock and the long octagonal barrel was finely chased.
Holding the agent's arm even tighter, the other hit mammal interjected. 'This one, I guess. His throat fur is uneven if you'd look close enough.'
The polar bear in charge came around the corner table and shoved the muzzle of his pistol into Jack's stomach — the hammer was back.
'You oughtn't to miss at that range,' said the agent.
'Zip it, Cottontail.' He frisked Mousawitz expertly with his paws — legs, sides, back, and tail — then dug out a miniature Glock G19 and handed it to his associate. 'Give this to the Boss, Kevin.' he said. 'You all go along and take this little guy up. The other one, stays with me.'
'Yes, Raymond.' said the one named Kevin.
The ZPD officer was hauled to his tail. He had one foot hooked under the tiny bars and yanked hard. At the same moment, Jack kicked out backwards round the leg of his chair. There was a satisfactory 'thump' as his heel caught his towering guard's shin. A moment of chaos passed, but neither of the polar bears slackened their grip. His guard only picked his body out of the chair as if he had been a kit, faced him to the wall and slammed him into it while the other nearly crushed Mousawitz's snout as he swung him around nonchalantly.
Guns were still trained unwaveringly on them. It had been a futile effort, but for a split second they had effaced the sudden shock of capture and regained their initiative.
'Don't waste your breath. Take him away.' Raymond addressed the mouse's guard. 'Mr. Big is waiting.' He turned to the agent. 'You can say goodbye to your pal," he chuckled. 'It's unlikely you'll both be seeing each other again.'
Mousawitz smiled at Jack. 'Good thing we made a date for Roxanne to meet us here later,' he quipped. 'See you at the line-up, Savage.'
The jackrabbit grinned back, his teeth were red with blood. 'Agent 009's going to be pleased with this turn out. Be seeing you in a while, officer.'
'Rut,' one of the polar bears said with conviction. 'We better get going.'
The rodent's guard whipped him around and shoved him against a section of the wall — it opened on a pivot into a long bare passage. Kevin pushed past the group and led the way.
As the door swung behind them, Jack was left with Raymond, who led him to a separate stone passage with a glint in his eyes and mischievous smile.
(-from Chapter 8, Live Let Die, Book 3 of The Savage Seas series, by J. L. Hopps.)
Skye wasn't sure why she was still somehow holding on to the one percent chance that Inari would grant her a miracle and she would not be declared guilty. Maybe it was because if she were to be declared otherwise (like she already knew she would be), she wouldn't be able to take it anymore. If she thought being in jail for almost an entire month was horrible, receiving a lifetime sentence would for sure be a million times worse.
Though if the vixen were completely honest, she was considering killing herself regardless of the outcome. The black slug in her chest had consumed her entirely, and it wasn't like she had anything left to live for. Everything good in her life had been ripped from underneath her like the skunk rug Nick shockingly once sold to a council mammal. Her job, her (no-good) boyfriend, her social life— all taken away in a blink of an eye. And there was also no chance in hell that the mammals of Zootopia would ever accept her back into society again.
'Well, what else is new, dumb-dumb?' she thought bitterly as she contemplated how futile it would be to rebuild her dad's old repair shop. Now it was tainted with her name, and she could never forgive herself for ruining its legacy.
"Come on, ladies," the arctic fox nervously said as she backed into the kitchen counter. "Can't we all just get along? I only have a day or two left here anyway."
"And why would we do that, huh bitch?" one of them smirked, grabbing her by the collar and making her yelp. "If you think your torture would end here, then you're dead wrong."
The vulpine chuckled weakly. "Oh, I know. I'll probably kill myself once I'm declared guilty." They all looked at her in confusion before bursting into laughter, clearly thinking she was bluffing.
But she was not— she just couldn't do it anymore.
If all that wasn't enough— she was also beaten and broken from the inside out. There wasn't a single reason why she would choose to stay on this godforsaken world any longer than she had to. Nick and Finn would be the only ones who would mourn for her. Maybe Nadine and Heidi as well, but she couldn't really tell. And hopefully, someday her cousin would find it in himself to forgive her for preferring the coward's way out.
"Rutting hell," she grumbled to herself before spitting out blood. It was apparently decided by Ms. Feisty Quokka to give her a punch straight to the muzzle as an appetizer for today's beating. If it were one-on-one, she could have easily taken down the hypocrite marsupial in a fight, but two other inmates had her arms pinned against the wall.
Without announcing herself, Officer Fangmeyer came barreling down from the hallway. "Come with me, Winters," she said sternly, initially ignoring the other mammals around and grabbing Skye's wrist. "You are due for a visit. While the rest of you—" she announced, making them all flinch. "—are in for disciplinary segregation."
"Oh wow, officer, you're right on time!" The vixen laughed, as blood dribbled down her muzzle. "It better not be Tommy or Cheyenne, because if it is, I'd rather just let those ladies kick my ass again."
"Maybe you shouldn't give them ideas and free passes out of their current punishments."
The arctic fox snorted but still followed behind the tigress cop. "Believe it or not, it's them who are giving me a favor." In typical Zootopia prison fashion, she was met with death threats as she moseyed through the halls before making her way to the visitation area.
Pausing to study her face intently, Officer Fangmeyer asked, "What do you mean?"
"Nothing," the vulpine whimpered as the two of them passed the room where the Hopps buck slapped her. "Officer— Nadine, I, uh, don't really want to see anyone."
"That's what I told him, but he won't take no for an answer." Yanking the smaller female towards the room with a shake of her head.
Begrudgingly, Skye trailed behind Nadine as she opened the door for her. Before she could enter, though, the feline eyed her up and down, then quickly tried to wipe away some of the blood stains.
She sighed. "He better not lose it or I'm dragging him inside your cell with you."
"Who are you talking about? Is it David?" the vixen chuckled lightly, intrigued. "Am I going to be interviewed for ZNN?"
"Zip it, Skye, and just go in."
Like an idiot, the arctic fox just stood there until the tigress cop pushed the both of them through. Usually, the guards leave for the privacy of inmates and their visitors, but she followed her inside.
"Goddamn Fangtooth!" a familiar voice growled from the other side of the glass. "You didn't tell me she's injured!"
The vulpine directed her head down towards the owner, trying to balance herself. She was so confused as to why he was confidently addressing the police officer the same way he would when talking to mammals he was hustling.
"Finnick?!" Her mouth was hanging open. "How in Karma— why are you here?!"
The fennec fox leaned against the glass, his deep voice carrying a distinct drawl. "Well, if it ain't ol' Nicky's cousin Skye, lookin' like a wreck. Figured I'd drop by and see if I could help, ya out."
Skye gaped at him, incredulity mixing with her relief. "You came here? But why? And how did you—"
Finnick cut her off with a dismissive wave. "No time for chit-chat, Motorhead. Just wanted to make sure you know you ain't alone in this mess. Now, let's get somethin' straight. You gotta keep your head up, alright?"
Skye slumped into the chair, feeling her legs give way as she sat. Finnick's gruff demeanor was exactly as she remembered, but there was something different in the way he spoke now—more urgent, more personal. She was astonished not only by his nerve to come near the cops but also by how he addressed Nadine like he was talking to an old buddy. It was a side of Finnick she rarely saw, and it made her heart race with both fear and hope.
"You look like shit," Finnick said, his voice rough but carrying a soft note of concern. "What the hell have they done to you?"
Skye let out a bitter laugh, trying to brush off the worry in his voice. "What they do to pelts best — beating and breaking them until they drop. It's not like I'm going to make it out of here alive anyway."
Finnick's eyes narrowed, and his voice dropped to a low growl. "Now, listen here, Skye. I've been in and outta trouble more times than I care to count, and I've seen more than my fair share of rough spots. But lemme tell ya somethin': you don't let these bullies win. They're lookin' for weakness, and if you show it, they'll just keep comin' at ya."
Skye's gaze dropped, her shoulders slumping further. "What do you mean? They're bigger, stronger. They've got numbers on their side."
"Yeah, and that's why ya gotta be smarter 'n them," Finnick replied, his gruff drawl thick with resolve. "Bullies are predictable. They rely on fear. You show 'em you ain't afraid, and you make it clear that you ain't gonna roll over and play dead, they might just start thinkin' twice before they mess with ya."
Skye looked up; her eyes clouded with tears. "And what if they're relentless? What if they don't stop?"
Finnick leaned closer, his expression intense. "That's when you dig in, Skye. You don't give up. When they push, you push back harder. Even if all you can do is hold your ground and not let 'em see that they get to ya, or somethin'. It's about survivin' and makin' sure they know you're not an easy target."
Skye's heart raced as she absorbed his words. The presence of Finnick, with his no-nonsense attitude and practical advice, was both comforting and unsettling. She had known him for years, and he only showed up in dire situations. His visit made her wonder if it truly was the end of the line. She was deeply troubled by the fact that he appeared only when hope seemed lost, leaving her to ponder what he, Nick, Nadine, and the others were planning or if they had any plans at all.
"You're not just here to visit, are you?" she asked, her voice trembling. "You only show up when things are headed South."
Finnick's gaze softened slightly, but his tone remained firm. "I'm here because you need me, Skye. And I know things look real grim right now, but that don't mean they're over. Sometimes, when it seems like it's the end, that's when ya gotta get up and fight the hardest. You hear me?"
Skye nodded, trying to absorb his words. "Uh, I'll try, Finn. But it's hard to stay strong when every day feels like a losing battle."
"I know it is," Finnick said, his voice carrying a rare note of empathy. "But remember this: you're tougher than you think. And as long as you're still breathin', there's still a chance."
As Finnick prepared to leave, Skye noticed something peculiar. Officer Fangmeyer and Finnick exchanged a brief, non-verbal communication—an almost imperceptible nod and a shared glance. It was clear they had an understanding, one that Skye could only guess at. The exchange left her uneasy, her mind racing with thoughts about what Finnick, Nadine, and the others were plotting. It felt as though there were layers to their plans she couldn't decipher, and it only deepened her sense of foreboding.
"Thanks, Finnick," Skye whispered, her voice barely audible. "For everything."
Finnick gave a brief nod, his expression a mixture of determination and concern. "Take care of yourself, Skye. We're all countin' on ya."
As the door closed behind him, Skye was left alone with her thoughts. The encounter had left her with more questions than answers. The sense of being watched, the vague understanding between Finnick and Officer Fangmeyer—everything seemed to point to a larger, more complex situation than she had initially realized.
She sat in the quiet visitation room, her mind a whirlwind of emotions. Finnick's tough-love advice and his presence had given her a glimmer of hope, but the reality of her situation remained grim. The fight was far from over, and as she faced the uncertain road ahead, she knew she had to cling to every bit of strength she could muster.
With a renewed sense of determination, Skye stood up, her posture straighter, her resolve firmer. The storm on the distance was still uncertain and fraught with challenges, but with Finnick's words echoing in her mind and the unspoken agreement between him and Officer Fangmeyer weighing on her, she felt a small but significant shift within her.
The fight wasn't over, and she wasn't done yet. Not by a long shot.
The characters, miscellaneous, and settings are owned and trademarked by Disney, and in no way, shape, or form do I claim ownership over them nor the world of Zootopia (aside, of course, from my original characters and some fictional places that I added) - though I would never not thank Byron Howard and Richard Moore for giving us these anthropomorphic mammals that we love to hate (I don't know, Jack and Skye are growing on me...particularly in this work) or hate to love (still a Nick and Judy shipper...if you have an issue - there's the door!) because without them, this retelling would not have existed.
Here's a little something for you guys from yours truly and my second (well, I mean there's Skye...but she's not canon yet) favorite fox in the entire world — Finnick! Take it as a breather if you will because the next chapters to come (dare I say the one after this) will surely up the ante higher than the giraffes in Zootopia (lol).
Though before you skip this part, and go over Chapter 9 — let me first make an ANNOUNCEMENT regarding my update schedule: As most of you already know, because I never stop reiterating it, I have a "really" packed calendar that mostly involves writing fiction, but I also have a daytime job which I really need to pay bills and the likes, which in turn makes posting/publishing time to always be INDEFINITE. That being said, I'll be gone for a few weeks (or a month at the most) and even though I have my trusty laptop with me...I wouldn't be able to update ANY OF MY STORIES with the amount of work that I'll be bringing with me. So, I'm APOLOGIZING in advance to all of you who have been keeping track of this story and WAITING for my weekly updates.
But don't worry I'm already finishing up my PEACE OFFERING (a.k.a CHAPTER 9) and I'll also be posting it shortly — you read it right, a DOUBLE UPDATE!
P.S. I have reread this whole chapter twice to tweak and edit some parts but if there's still grammar or spelling mistakes, please note it on the comments and I'll amend them soon as I return from my work trip. Thank you!