Maybe I should write shorter chapters… Happy belated holidays!
-imjustagurl: Thanks as always for the kind words and for your revisions!
-CyanCastle: Well here's a familiar face! So wonderful to have you again after all this time! Lmao, I couldn't agree more about Nick's recruitment tactics here. It seems grace isn't his strong suit, but our fox certainly knows how to get results. It's great to see someone take a liking to Daisy! She may be green around the edges, but like you said: she's got guts, and that's what matters. As for Nick's past, I'm still hashing out the details, but it's going to play a prominent role in the plot later on. Thank you so much for the kind words about this ship and story, it made my day 3
-Prismatic Floof: I can neither confirm nor deny his identity, though yours seems to be the prevailing theory. I'm glad you enjoyed Finn! It's always fun writing a character who's ever-slightly unhinged (other than Raiona) lol. Thanks for the review!
-Guest (1): Hello again, so great to see you back here. Yes, last chapter was a shake up from my usual formula, though I hope you'll understand why in later chapters. I'm sorry if the lack of romance at all disappointed you. I promise the focus will return to the relationship in full swing in the immediate future. Thank you for your feedback, I always appreciate it!
-Guest (2): Million-dollar questions, all of them! Stay tuned!
*Special thanks to imjustagurl and iguana1500 for beta reading this chapter*
As always, please enjoy, and I'll see you on the next one! -Wilde
Chapter XVII
~Acheron~
When Judy woke from her sleep, the world appeared to flicker around her. Her brain felt like a pendulum in perpetual motion, and her stomach revolted within her. She bowed her head over and began to retch.
Last time she felt this disarranged was during police training. She remembered how even the finest headgear couldn't protect her when a rhinoceros was throwing the punches. Then again, she'd never had her bell rung such that her taste had changed. She jerked her paw, desperate to wipe away that horrid, battery-like flavor in her mouth. But her arm was tethered firmly where it lay. And from behind, the rustle of shackles sounded in the dark.
At once Judy was more alert. She couldn't yet stop her eyes from doing loop-de-loops, but she could make out just enough to get her bearings. The room she was in was small, cell like, and reflective of what little light flowed through a gap beneath the door. The door itself was solid, made from embossed steel. A cooling unit with its wires stripped made an incessant 'tinking' noise above it.
Dread snaked into the bunny when she realized she was trapped. And that dread very nearly turned to panic when, glancing down, she saw the extent of her bonds. Her whole torso was roped to a folding chair, her legs restrained, and her paws manacled behind her back.
Now Judy was thrashing every limb to the point where it hurt. She bleated, "Wheream I?" and "What happened?" just as loud as she could slur it. And gradually, through the haze of delirium, the answers to those questions came flooding back.
-20 Hours Ago-
The journey to the Rainforest District was surprisingly quiet between the two ZPD officers. In fact, aside from the investigation itself, the single interaction they shared was a rather awkward exchange about Raiona's missing ear tip, of which the lioness said simply, "Lost it in a fight," without further explanation.
Judy didn't blame Raiona for her reticence. Small talk never seemed the lioness's strong suit—especially not with a mammal she'd only recently pardoned for 'ruining her life'. And Judy was fine with that. She was just happy to have peace between them, even if it took patience for that peace to settle, as fresh lava needs patience to cool.
When they arrived at the clinic, Raiona opened the door, and the door knocked a cowbell suspended over the entrance. The lioness glared at it, the fluorescent lights and yellowing walls, before declaring conclusively, "I hate this place already."
"Just wait 'till you meet the staff."
As Judy said this, the pit-patting of webbed feet came racing forth. And through a curtain appeared the beaver receptionist from earlier. He waggled into his chair, took one glance at the biker-like feline before him, and let loose a squawk so high, one would've thought she was death incarnate. When he noticed Judy next to her, he stammered, "Y-you again?"
"Me again. Got another patient for ya."
The beaver's eyes zipped back to Raiona. The apex predator grinned wildly at him.
"Oh no. We've told you once already. Dr. Orshack isn't taking new patients!"
Judy shifted onto one hip; in that smug way she often did when a criminal played straight into her paws. "Ah, that's right," she nodded. "Funny thing, he also said the clinic closed at noon. Yet here you are…"
"Twelve hours overtime," Raiona quipped. "Fancy that for a business with no clients."
The beaver drummed up a laugh. "W-well! We are short-staffed. The place requires a lot of upkeep with the rainy climate and all."
Judy said, "Yeah, I don't think so. Where's your boss?"
The receptionist smiled tersely. "Afraid he's out for the evening." As he spoke, his shoulders sloped forward, paws flirting beneath the desktop. When Raiona saw this, she pounded forth and plucked the beaver straight out of his seat.
Now he was flopping like a fish, shrieking bloody murder as he dangled by the hem of his trousers. "Let me go!" he pleaded, "Oh please, let me go!" Then he glanced to Judy for help, sensing rightly that she was the more diplomatic of the two. "Bunny, won't you tell her to stop?"
Judy didn't meet his gaze. She was instead focused on the flip phone in his paw. A device that was, at present, more dangerous than a gun or a knife. And so Judy's response was simple, spoken with a twinge of indignation. "Raiona, do your thing."
The feline's tail lassoed with excitement. "On it." She snatched the phone from him and shattered it between her fingers. And the beaver, no doubt fearing he would end up in similar fashion, screeched and wailed. As he did this, Raiona raised him higher, and her eyes became slits. "Here's where it's at, babe," she purred. "I've got something stuck wayyy back in my teeth. And if the doc isn't out in ten seconds to remove it, you're making the exam. Got it?"
"But he's not here!" the beaver cried. "I've told you! I've told you!"
"Yeah, we'll see about that. Judy, lock the door."
Judy knew she should've been against such an order. So when her legs abided and began to carry her to the entrance, the bunny understood the gloves were off, and that there was no going back.
"N-n-no! You wouldn't!" the beaver lamented.
"Oh, but I would…" Raiona said. "See?"
She unlatched her jaw, making visible her saber-like teeth and the depth of her maw. She drew the receptionist in, just past her black lips as he screamed, "Oh God, no! Please, it's not my fault!"
At that moment, a zebra with graying stripes raced through the curtain. "Stop this madness!" he flailed his hooves, and his lab coat fluttered about him. "Release my receptionist this instant!" And Raiona did, carelessly into his seat with a crash.
"Out for the evening, Doc?" The lioness hissed.
Dr. Orshack ignored her. He promptly tended to his petrified employee, who looked to be on the verge of melting into a beaver-sized puddle. Then his gaze moved over and lighted on Judy. "What are you doing back here?" he demanded. "Where's the fox?"
Judy's ears flagged at her partner's mention. "Still sick… What's it to you?"
The physician paused, and the corner of his mouth twitched. Suddenly his eyes shifted beyond her, and his expression seemed to tighten with worry. "Never mind that. You two must leave!" He clacked one hoof upon the desk. "Respect my wishes and do not return."
"We'll be out of your fur," Raiona glared, "just as soon as we've had a peek behind that desk." Then she leapt over it without disturbing a single sheet of copy paper. The doctor nearly stumbled over himself when that massive feline landed next to him.
"H-hey!" he crowed. "You can't come back—"
"Can't?" Raiona scoffed. "Or what? You'll call the police?"
At that trap of a question, the equid was at once lost for words. He looked helplessly to his assistant, who was quivering under the desk in a feat of hysterics, and then towards the entrance again. Judy actually peered behind her this time, anxious as to what kept drawing his gaze there.
"Like stepping into the noose, right?" the lioness sneered. "Now, park that two-toned rear next to your pal and keep your mouth shut. Hopps?"
"Huh?"
"Wake the hell up," she barked. "Let's get this show on the road."
Judy winced. Raiona's no-nonsense attitude was a far cry from Nick's laid-back approach to casework. Nothing she couldn't handle, but the disrespect stirred a flash of anger—enough to make her miss the cowbell swaying just slightly over the door.
"Wouldn't kill you to ask me nicely," the bunny huffed. She bounded over the desk and, on the other side, drew a taser from her waistband. "I'm sweeping the back. Watch our six."
"The whole clock's covered," Raiona said, cornering Orshack into the same space as his peer.
"This is a misunderstanding," he panted, his hooves upturned in a frantic, begging way. "But it's nothing you can't turn around from. We're not above looking the other way, are we, Glenn?"
The beaver choked out something like "that's right," and went back to sobbing.
"You see? We're reasonable mammals. Let's parley before you do something regrettable."
Raiona snarled, "You kissed your chance for parley goodbye when timberbeast here decided to call for backup. Now shut the fuck up. Hopps!"
"Going!" Judy snapped. She didn't like at all how fast the temperature was rising. The staff and their erratic behavior had her stomach writhing into knots. She peered down the curtains at the head of the room and imagined what lay beyond them. Another Night howler lab? A mound of corpses? The missing cisterns? She knew if there was ever a time to blow the lid off this place, that time was now. So she bucked up, stole a deep breath, and crept through the drapes.
Her ears sensed the danger before her eyes could pierce the gloom.
A shrill whoosh. It cut the air and landed between her shoulder blades. Pain. Everywhere. It exploded through her muscles like lightning. Judy tried to scream. Willed her legs to move. Instead, she pitched forth into a heap, her voice a weak and pitiful whimper.
From the lobby came a roar, followed next by a crash and silence. Judy knew then the lioness wasn't coming to save her.
Splayed upon a cold, concrete floor, the bunny glimpsed what her hard work had led to. Not a lab, bodies, or missing trucks, but an empty space. A decaying, barren building, gutted naught for ductwork and support columns.
Judy's heart plummeted. So too did her eyelids. What pain she felt dissolved into nothingness. And the world around her, to darkness.
The sound of chains flexing, metal links brushing like little wind chimes, shook Judy back to the present. Her head tipped back, and she stared, dazed, at the broken cooling unit still tinking above her. She watched it spool over and over for a time. And so too did her thoughts spool aimlessly, leashed to the shock of their circumstance.
A gruff voice teased out behind her. "Enjoy your nap?"
Judy's ears rose sluggishly. She twisted over her shoulder and met a muscular form on the other side of it. "Raiona?" she guessed weakly. "Cheese and crackers… My head is,"
"Pounding?" Raiona scoffed. "You've been out for almost a day. Least I think that's how long it's been. Hard to keep track in here."
When she spoke, the shackles gnawed at Judy's wrists. She realized she had been cuffed to the lioness, who, like her, had been firmly bound to a folding chair. In her alarm she pulled against them.
"Stop. You'll cut us up if you do that," the feline said.
Judy ignored the warning and kept working her paws just as hard as she could. Her ribs swelled into the ropes as she asked, "What the heck happened back there?"
"We were ambushed. Staff hit us with the grade-A tranq. Kind that puts you out like a light."
"So they really got you too?" the bunny groaned. "Whatever happened to covering the whole clock?"
Suddenly the ropes snapped taut, and Judy was immediately thankful the feline was tied up. "Oh, lay the hell off me," Raiona snarled. "I watched Orshack and his staff the entire time. Those shots came from somewhere else."
"Somewhere else," Judy spat. She would've waved her paw if she could. "You're crazy. The lobby was empty except for the four of us."
"I'm not crazy, rabbit. I had 'em locked down tighter than a bull's ass. Not my fault you didn't lock the door like I said."
"I did lock it!" The words tumbled out. Then she paused, and she was silent and in thought for a long while. "I did… Didn't I?"
"I'd God damn hope so. Wouldn't be difficult for someone to sneak in while our backs were turned." Then she slumped right back into her restraints. She passed a great, shuddering sigh, and their bindings seemed to relax again. "Doesn't matter anyway… It's all said and done with now. I just hope whatever you saw behind that curtain was worth dying over."
Judy's body seemed to shrink beneath her. "Doesn't matter," was somehow so much worse than the chewing out she knew she deserved. She felt guilty now. Guilty for dragging Raiona into this mess. For rushing to blame her for their capture. She hated that everything, everything, in her life had fallen apart for a decrepit carcass of a structure, and two—three crooks with tranquilizers.
Her ears flopped inward, and in her loathing, the delicate, pink triangle of her nose began to twitch. She didn't mean to think about Nick. About how in some other universe, things might've turned out better for them. And before she could stop it, not that she'd want to, she imagined herself under the bridge with him. Felt her head folded against his chest, and his calm, capable paws holding her close. And she remembered his voice, and how wonderful it felt to have someone so precious in her life.
She sensed the tears verging on her eyes then. When she blinked, two drops rolled down her cheeks, and that was all. Because it wasn't in Nick to give up on her. Even when she'd messed up he'd fought for their friendship. She refused to wallow in her failures. Not here. Not tied to a chair in the dark while he was out there, confused, probably dwelling on a fear that she, like a petty schoolgirl, would abandon him over heartbreak. Her fingers curled into fists. Her breaths surged into the ropes.
"We're not gonna die here, Raiona," she said at last.
The lioness laughed cynically. "Oh? You've got a plan, sunshine? Let's hear it."
"Not yet," Judy said. "But I have a feeling you're gonna like it anyway." Then she pushed her palms behind her, as far as she could into the cavernous space between Raiona's fingers. "Have you ever heard of a game called Mercy?"
"Mercy?" The feline arched over herself to glare at what little of the bunny she could. "I'm not following you…"
"It's a children's game. You play it by—"
"I know how to play," Raiona snapped. "I was a kid once, believe it or not. What the hell does it have to do with us?"
"Well," Judy shook her paws. "We need to lose these restraints. Should be easy enough if I let you win the game."
Raiona paused then, her tail lashing as that strange request settled over her.
"Judy, are you seriously asking me to,"
"Do to me what you did to that beaver's phone?" The bunny forced a laugh. "Maybe. Call it atonement for throwing your dad in the slammer."
Nick clasped a palm over his mouth and flattened himself against the duct.
"The clinic," Daisy murmured. "It's gone."
He could feel footsteps beating through the thin material and into his body. Hostile footsteps, which pattered and clomped towards the entrance beneath him. He closed his eyes and willed his heart to thump quietly.
"Someone's coming, Nick. I think…" Daisy's voice quickened. "Oh God, I think someone's here…!"
Seeking footsteps. Growing distant now. Nick could only sit still and follow the situation with his ears, knowing well that if something were to happen to the bunny, he would suffer the guilt of it forever. He gnawed at his knuckles and listened to the noises playing through his wire until these too were quiet, and he was alone once again.
Cautiously, Nick rose to his hands and knees, and the air duct seemed to warble around him. "Daisy—Daisy, if you can hear me... Stay hidden. Don't make a sound. Take your chance to escape if it comes."
Static. The fox couldn't even be certain she was receiving him. "I'm coming to find you," he whispered, if only to satiate his own conscience. "Just hang tight…"
The duct ahead was illuminated by gray light filtered through a grate. Nick crawled towards it and planted his feet onto the metal. Then in a deliberate lunging motion, he kicked the grate loose.
Now or never. Nick dropped through the opening and hit the ground running. A cloud of dust burst into the air, and it chased him behind a concrete column. He panted hard and his large ears strained. But the silence in the air was heavy, punctuated only by his own breath and the rumble of the storm.
The fox now found himself in a large empty space. Gone were the chairs, reception desk, and sickly yellow walls that had once disconcerted him. The carpet had been torn away. The lights had been stripped from their sockets. What remained was a shadowy skeleton of a building that resembled nothing of the clinic he remembered. On the other side of the column, the structure stretched far into the night. And the structure met the night literally, for the back walls had crumbled. Through the breaches came rain, wind, and the steady infiltration of foliage. Past it, a dizzying plummet—all the way to the forest floor.
Nick unholstered his gun. What was the purpose of it all, he wondered. What organization would go to such lengths to conceal itself after boasting so many red flags?
A bolt of lightning cast shadows upon the walls, and the jagged contour of a stairwell emerged from the darkness. Nick swept towards it, and his objective was clear: find and rescue one—no, two missing bunnies.
The second floor was abandoned like the first, but it wasn't empty. There was a table made from plastic with several plastic bins on the surface. Two lamps stood on either side, burning red, linked together by a clothesline strung with parchment. Behind it, the fox spied a boxcar which existed independently from the rest of the structure.
Nick circled the area for a time. That these things had been arranged openly, so convenient and inviting for anyone to stumble across, tripped a primal skepticism in his brain. Yet, when the gleam of a photograph caught his eyes, he nearly jumped. For he recognized the black and white silhouette that was his own.
In an instant he raced over, plucked it down and felt the slickness of the print against his fingers. He was quick to identify each detail—Judy's ears, Raiona's scowl, and his own bushy tail situated outside the Palm Hotel. The photo itself appeared smudged, as if the photographer had dashed away at the moment of its capture. And Nick, remembering the chase which led him to Gazelle's doorstep, realized it was just that.
At first he felt an ineffable anger towards the cameraman. Indeed, Nick hated few things more than being put under a microscope, and who could blame him? Years of hustling, close scrapes with the mafia and the law alike had made him cynical. But that was the past. It didn't seem fair that he should have to look over his shoulder forever.
An acetic odor twinged his nostrils. It wafted up from a series of prints he hadn't yet noticed, each submerged in a clear, watery liquid. Nick looked over them, and terror clawed at his windpipe. The photo in his paws fluttered to the ground.
"This can't be…"
Horns. Flowing hair. A kind, playful grin. Coffee cups. Snowfall. Her hooves in his paws. A single kiss, on his cheek, under the shadow of the climate wall.
Such photos, Nick knew, could not be haphazard. He dreaded to think he had been targeted. That the mammals he cared about most were in danger, and nobody, not even a celebrity like Gazelle, was out of reach.
Before he could even think to wallow, Nick froze. He heard footsteps rising out of the dark. His legs braced with the lightning that was fight or flight, and he lunged behind the boxcar just as Doctor Orshack crested the top of the stairs.
The old zebra peered around cautiously, for he'd seen the dust that was lifted, and the crimson halos floating around the lamps. Then he brought up a phone in his hooves, and he addressed the voice waiting on the other end of it.
"I'm certain," he relented. "Storm's still going strong, so the camera feed's washed out. Not that you would know." He began to pace, and frustration sounded through his steps. "The front door was open. Glenn's walking the building but we haven't found anyone yet."
In an instant, the weight of a mountain had lifted off of Nick's shoulders, and he wanted to cry out in relief. Daisy was safe! Or hidden at the very least.
Out of nowhere, Orshack's footsteps hastened towards the boxcar. Nick cornered into the junction between ground and wall like an insect, but thankfully, the equid stopped short. There was some metallic creaking while he inspected the box and its door.
"It's secure," he said. "That bunny made quite a racket earlier, but I haven't heard anything out of her since." Then his eyes lit up and he squawked, "God almighty, that's a question! Yes, of course they're alive! What kind of operation do you think we're running here?"
Alive. Nick clung onto that word to keep from passing out. He dropped his weapon, his wrists like putty after his most recent brush with catastrophe.
"Well, you keep saying that," the zebra continued. "But what then? Dart him? Trap him with the others? You're doing yourself no favors by keeping me in the dark."
The phone's attempts to reassure seemed only to deepen the anger in Orshack's voice.
"No, you listen. I haven't seen my wife in two weeks. And Glenn? He's got kids, you know. We've played along nicely this far. We did as you asked. It's not our fault your fox ran off with this Gazelle girl."
Nick flew up. He ventured to the edge of the boxcar and glanced out, his ears pointed on every word.
"No, I… Didn't say that," the zebra said, his tone suddenly placating. "I'm just asking where everything ends. Surely we—"
But he wasn't able to finish. To Nick, the voice on the phone didn't sound so reassuring anymore, and Orshack, like a beaten creature, lowered his head and soothed his nape with one hoof. He paused abruptly then, not just in speech but also in movement, before crouching onto his haunches. For a long while he stayed like this, and he discovered the photo at his feet. A photo he knew wasn't supposed to be there. And his old eyes were knowing and considering for a while longer.
At that moment, Nick got the impression they were both aware of each other. That each possessed the ability to end the other; the fox with his weapon, and Orshack with the alarm. The fact neither had yet done so seemed to perplex both of them.
When the equid straightened up, the stalemate was broken. He left the photo untouched where it lay.
"That won't be necessary…" he murmured to the phone. "I meant no offense. I guess I'm… Tired. That's all." He looked over the room quickly, and when his gaze crossed the place where Nick was, his eyes seemed to skip over it. "No. No sign of him. I'll notify you if the situation changes. Orshack, out."
The device shut with a clack, and the zebra, checking around himself again, hurried to the lower floor.
When silence returned, Nick crept over to the place where Orshack had been. He took the photo into his paws, and the whole of his mind was at once consumed with one question.
"Why didn't he say something?"
It didn't make an ounce of sense to him. Either this doctor, fake or not, was possibly the dullest criminal he'd ever encountered, or he was hiding something. But from who?
Nick shook his head. Whatever the equid's quandary was, now was not the time to dwell on it. Judy was alive and near. He jammed the photo into his pocket and swept to the front of the boxcar. The door was heavy, secured by four sets of hinges and one barrel bolt as thick as his forearm.
The fox took hold of the lock, and the metal screeched briefly against its keep. Then the bolt snagged and refused to move. Nick couldn't quite make out the noises within: hushed tones, chains brushing like little wind chimes. His brow creased and his teeth grinded as the lock shrilled free. His arms trembled and his spine caved over with exertion until—
The brackets blew apart. Nick was on his back now, not simply because the door had opened, but because a furious lioness was atop him and choking him with her shackles.
"Paddle-tailed little shit! I'll wear your hide like one of Bikorn's ushankas!"
Nick loosed a voiceless cry. He pounded the big cat with his fists, and the thrashing of his legs stirred a dust storm around them.
"Raiona! Raiona, stop!"
The chains moved off him then, and his breath came forth explosively. Hardly had a moment passed before he was seized again, this time by small paws which traveled from the crux of his shoulders to his face. And the fingers felt his cheeks as though belief couldn't be evinced though sight alone.
"Nick…? Is it really…?"
Nick's expression softened when he heard the voice he knew. He met her lavender eyes and, when he saw the tears trembling within them, he nodded sheepishly. "Me," he said. "Good to see you too, fluff."
In that instant Judy surged forth and hugged him, and her joy was like despair. "Oh, Nick! Dumb fox! Dumb fox! You're actually here! You—you came back!"
"Don't sound so shocked about it, Carrots. You'll make me feel worse than I already do." Then he embraced her, and he felt the quiet spasms that were her sobs.
"I… I thought after I'd left you'd taken things the wrong way," she said. "That you'd assumed I wanted nothing to do with you… But it couldn't be farther from the truth. Nick, I'm so, so sorry…"
When she apologized, Nick's hold on her faltered. Judy noticed this and, perhaps fearing she'd offended the fox after all, drew back to see him. Nick dropped his eyelids. He looked at his palms, and what relief he'd felt turned back to pain.
"No," he said. "I'm the one who screwed up."
For a moment Judy's eyes seemed to question him. Then, from that sidewise look, a glimmer of understanding. The bunny nodded her head gently, bidding him to continue. And Nick did, his voice slow and firm.
"I don't know what you've heard," he said. "I don't know what you've seen. These last few days have been a proverbial whirlwind of emotions and—" he sighed deeply. "And I wasn't sure how to tell you. This thing with Gazelle and me… I struggled to make sense of it in the beginning. I even struggle to make sense of it now. But what I know for certain is how wrong I was in keeping it secret from you. I was afraid. And I was a terrible fool."
"You've always been a fool, Nick. I haven't loved you any less for it." She smiled a little, and the fox saw she was without anger. She asked then, "Why would you ever be afraid?"
"Because you're my partner," Nick nearly cried. "You're my best friend. What sort of mammal would I be today if you hadn't taken a chance on me?"
He paused and bowed his head, and once steady words became like whispers. "After all we've been through, I couldn't bear to lose you. I was afraid you'd thought you'd been pushed out of my heart. But it's not true. It will never be true."
Then there was silence, and Nick's composure fell apart. His voice broke. Tears, shame and sorrow came bursting forth at last.
"You deserved better from me," he wept. "I let you down. And I'm sorry."
Judy took his head into her arms, and she held him. She knelt her head against his and held him for a long while. "Oh, you foxes… So emotional…"
She felt a weak chuckle come out of him, and she spoke thoughtfully. "You'll never lose me, Nick. If Gazelle truly brings you happiness, that's all I need to know. You'll always have a special place in my book. I'll always support you." She lifted his eyes so they were again connected, and her eyes were smiling. "Thank you. Thank you for coming back for me…"
Raiona cleared her throat from across the room. They both glanced at her, and the lioness looked so painfully uncomfortable, Nick couldn't help but grin in spite of himself.
"Wrap up the theatrics, you two. There'll be time to sing Wilde's praises after we've skipped this joint."
That was the closest to 'thanks' he knew he would get from the feline. He could only guess how she'd gotten roped into this mess, though it was, to his own shock, nice to see her for once. Nick swabbed his face with his sleeve and stood up. "Finally, something we can both agree on," he said. "Here, let me—" he gripped Judy's paws.
"Ow! Wait!" she withdrew them quickly, and the fox's eyes went wide.
"Oh my—Carrots, your thumbs!"
Until that moment, Nick hadn't noticed the bunny's broken digits. Judy tucked them behind her, almost abashed. "We were handcuffed," she said, and Raiona flashed an apologetic look in response. "I'll survive, don't worry… I just hope we're square after the whole Lionheart debacle."
"More than square," the feline confessed. "I owe you a drink for this. Or uh… Several."
"I'm sorry… What debacle?"
"A story for later, Nick."
The three of them gathered into a stack: Nick in front with his pistol, Raiona in back with a length of rebar, and Judy, unable to bear any weapon, between them. They crept slowly to the stairwell.
"Remember," the lioness cautioned, "we're not out of the woods yet. Orshack and his boyfriend are still skulking about, not to mention a third we haven't yet accounted for…"
"A third?" Nick asked. "Was it a wolf?"
"Don't know. Could've been. I didn't see anything before I went down."
"Neither did I," said Judy. "Why? Did you cross a wolf on your way in here?"
"Yeah. Albino I think. A real strange character. He was just sitting out in the storm. Waiting for something." His eyes drifted back to the hanging photos. "He seemed like he knew me. Like he knew what I was about to do."
Judy followed his look, and her expression dimmed. "Nick… Do you think all of this was,"
"Planned?" the fox scoffed. "Never crossed my mind…"
The first floor was silent, save for the sound of rain slapping across the exposed concrete interior. In the darkness the many columns formed a veritable forest, such that the three officers were surrounded from every angle by dead space.
Nick paused, and his large ears listened. He could see the front entrance thirty yards away. Hardly a jaunt… Maybe they'd make it out alive after all.
Before the thought had fully rendered in his brain, a dart screamed past his cheek and slammed into the wall, taking some of his whiskers with it. "Ah!" He tumbled back as though he'd been hit.
"Nick?!"
"Down! Down!" the feline bellowed. "Find cover!"
Raiona yanked the fox to his feet and threw him behind a column. Then she threw Judy and herself behind another.
"Nick! Are you okay?!"
"It's an ambush! They were waiting for us to come down! Damn it all, did anyone see the shot?"
"Nick, say something! Say anything!"
He gasped, "I'm good, Carrots! It just grazed me. Raiona, I didn't see a shot!"
"Shifty little bastards. I can smell 'em from here." Then her voice was like thunder. "You hear that, Orshack?! When I get ahold of you and Dambuster, I'm gonna rip your fucking limbs off!"
"Might have to take a rain check," Nick cut in. "I've only got one round. We'll have to outflank them if we have any chance."
"Unless they're also empty?" Judy teased out of cover just slightly, and two more darts lanced into the column. "Nope! They've got a lot more!"
"Alright, how about this—" Raiona's paws became frantic with movement. "If I go right and Hopps goes left, they'll have to pick a target. They might be able to beam one of us, but it'll distract them enough for Wilde to advance head on."
"Why, that's awfully gallant of you, Commander," Nick snarked.
"Hell no. It's payback."
"And teetering on reckless," Judy added. "But right now I don't see what other choice we have. They're on us like white on rice."
"Then that's our play. I'll draw their fire first. When they reload, we move hard and fast. Rabbit, you're out a weapon but you can still duck and weave. Make good use of those legs."
"Well! They don't call me 'Hopps' for nothing." Judy winked, and Nick simpered. He'd longed to see that spark in her eyes again.
"Carrots," he said softly. "Be careful, will you?"
"Don't worry about me, Slick. Look after yourself. This'll all be over soon."
"Enough with the sappy shit!" Raiona hissed. "Are you two ready?"
"Ready."
"Ready."
With an exaggerated wave of her arm, Raiona thrust her rebar out of cover. One dart sailed past it, and the second dart pinged it with a bright yellow flash.
"Go!"
Nick felt the wind as Judy dashed past him on his left. In seconds, she was all but a blur of dust and movement. On his right, Raiona dropped onto all fours; a sight which reminded him of a less savage, yet equally pissed off Mr. Manchas.
Now it was his turn. The fox brandished his weapon and steeled himself to break through the center of it all. He could hear panicked squealing, like that of a hyena under duress. Doubtless, the sound of the staff being pushed onto the back foot. Nick swept out of safety then. He ranged his gun out ahead of him, and suddenly—
A screaming whoosh.
Thwack!
Nick yelped and leapt high enough to brush the ceiling. But when his eyes opened, the beaver receptionist lay spread out before him, limp as a dishcloth. A single tranquilizer stuck out between his love handles. And behind him stood a young bunny with speckled ears.
"Daisy?!"
"I… I got him…" she quavered, dart gun still in hand. Then she cried with glee, "I actually got him!"
"Where in the world did you…" Nick didn't know whether to commend or scold the cadet for her brassiness—not that there was time for either of those things.
"We've got a runner!" Raiona called out.
The fox whipped towards the black and white stripes galloping between the columns. Doctor Orshack, it seemed, had finally reached his limit. He raced towards the exposed back of the building, panting and heaving as he went.
"He's mine!" Nick said, and he moved briskly to cut the equid off.
"Oh for God's sake, not this again!"
"No! No! Nick, don't!" Judy shouted.
But it was too late. Nick found himself between Orshack and escape.
In his disarray the old zebra refused to slow or turn. He barreled onward, and Nick caught him by the waist with a bone-jarring smack. They tumbled over each other, skidding towards the precipice of the structure on the rain-slicked ground. Judy, Daisy, and Raiona screamed. The fox knew at that moment he was going over.
Then everything was quiet. Weightless. Nick's stomach surged into his throat as he flipped head over heels into open air.
He struck the embankment beneath the building and bit his tongue hard. His palate was at once flooded with a foul, iron-like taste. All around him mud hosed into his eyes, mouth, and fur. The foliage, with leaves like razor blades, slashed into him as he passed.
A low-hanging vine caught and snapped suddenly about his shoulder, and he shrieked in pain. Now he was spinning like a top, rolling over himself like one of those disintegrating, high-speed car wrecks. Every second ticked by like years. And the realization he could die at any moment blazoned into his head.
Then the flatness of the ground shot up to meet him, and his body at last came to rest in a few inches of water.
The forest floor was a wild place, entirely divorced from the quaint shops and harmonious infrastructure of the canopy level. Trees like eldritch monuments blotted out the light above. And in their shadow the earth itself rotted. Only the drainage canals stood out as mammalian, and they howled like a great many freight trains as rainwater funneled beneath the city.
Nick lifted his head out of the water just enough to get a few shaky breaths through his nose. Even slight movements felt excruciating. His arm on his left side refused to move. A dislocated shoulder, he figured, if he was lucky. He slid his opposite arm under his torso and pushed until he was sat up straight.
"—ive it to me. Give it -ere! Nick, —ck, respo-."
Nick spat some of the blood out of his mouth and raked his eyelids with his fingers. "J-Judy…?" He flicked the mud away. "I… Reading you, barely. Still alive…"
From his transmitter came a slew of garbled words, interspersed between only brief islands of clarity.
"h thank—od! Don't mov—! —tay right -ere you are. Rai—rching for a way down, give us ten—no, five min—! -eep talking to m—kay?"
Across the surface of the water came a violent hacking noise. Nick's eyes tracked swiftly towards it; a black, crumpled thing next to the drainage canal. For a time it balanced on all fours, then hung its head and settled back into kneeling.
"You could've let me escape…" it said weakly.
Nick narrowed his eyes. It seemed the zebra had taken an even worse thrashing than him. A thick layer of mud swathed his stripes from head to tail, and his ancient eyes spoke pain too great for understanding.
"That—Ah…" Nick cradled his wounded arm. "That was your idea of an escape?" He clambered unsteadily to his feet.
"I didn't have a choice," Orshack whimpered. "But you? You did. I spared your life. You could've let me go."
"So it's true then. You knew I was in the building with you."
"Yes."
Nick could see the equid staring into the current raging beneath him. His shattered, bleeding hooves dug right into his knees.
"Why say nothing?" Nick asked. "What stopped you?"
"I'm not a bad mammal… I'm no criminal."
"Nobody said you were either of those things." Nick shambled forward. "Doesn't change the fact that two ZPD officers were kidnapped. And if I heard your little phone call correctly, I'd say you were gunning for me all the same."
"I'm not a criminal," he said again. "I was only trying to survive." He stopped suddenly, and his hooves began to tremble. Then his voice welled up within him, and it was as if his barrier of loneliness had sundered. "I—I never wanted to hurt anyone! I'm innocent, you must believe me!"
"You're not under oath," the fox said. "You say you're not a criminal? I'll bite. Tell me exactly who you are."
Nick's assurance seemed to loosen the zebra, and his heavy eyebrows resumed their normal level. He nodded, pained eyes clouding with pride. "My name is Doctor Zander Orshack. I'm the curator of the Museum of Natural History, Director of the Institute for Vertebrate Paleontology, and adjunct professor at Zootopia University. I… I play the flute in a jazz band called the "Jazzy Z's" on Wednesday nights."
"An impressive CV, professor," Nick said. "Certainly not the background I'd expect of someone fronting a criminal enterprise."
"I agree," he replied. "I was told I had special qualifications. Though, I'm afraid I was never made privy to the basis of that claim."
"What do you mean you were told? Told by whom?"
Again, Orshack paused, and Nick could see in his demeanor the walls of loneliness building themselves up again.
"A few weeks ago…" he began, "I began to receive strange envelopes on my desk. They had no sender. No return address. They were filled with photos and Fur samples collected from my home. From my wife. They came with a list of demands."
"The demands." Nick stepped forward. "Spill."
"I was told to take a leave of absence," the zebra went on. "To staff this clinic for three weeks' time, and to wait for the both of you to investigate. And you investigated. Like they said you would."
"And just who are they? Eh? Don't lead on like you don't know. What do you want with Judy and me? And why the hell am I being tailed from here to Timbucktu?"
The equid looked on ashamedly, and his long ears folded along the thick of his neck. "I never had all the answers," he said stumblingly. "Bits and pieces of a bigger picture, maybe. But when you have a family to protect, you can't afford to focus on much else. Surely you understand this."
Nick's face tightened with skepticism. Then he considered, and when he envisioned the family he wanted—the one he never had, his features softened.
"If keeping us captive was your objective you did a miserable job at it."
"Like I said, I'm no criminal…"
"Don't put the cart before yourself," Nick warned. Why'd you let me go but dart Judy and Raiona? What happened to your supposed moral objections when they entered the fray?"
"It would seem I didn't dart them."
"Someone did," The fox growled. "Was it your wolf hiding outside?"
"Huh?" the equid turned his head. "No, not a wolf. Leastways not one I've ever seen. I've caught glimpses, but their enforcer seems to be awfully shy. Same mammal they got taking all those close-up photos of us, I imagine." Suddenly his ears were alert, and his mouth set hard. "H-hey, you're not going to let me be after this right?"
"What?"
"You'll protect me, right? My family and Glenns' from these guys, right?"
Nick's eyes slipped over the zebra, searching his newest expression for intent. When he saw that the equid was serious—dead serious—in his question, Nick's fur began to bristle. At that moment his mind was aware of the weapon he'd lost, and how naked he was without it.
"I can't say," the fox murmured. "There are protocols for this sort of thing, naturally. If you cooperate with investigators, I'm sure the ZPD will—"
"No!" Orshack erupted. "Not the ZPD! I'm asking for you, specifically you and the rabbit!"
Nick was amazed at the sudden rise to anger. He released his broken limb and raised the good paw placatingly. "I don't understand… Why would that matter at all?"
"Why does it matter?" the zebra grimaced and dragged his entire body to face him. "Did you notify your precinct of where you were going tonight? I reckon you didn't, seeing as your backup was greener than spring itself. Ask yourself why you went through the trouble, and then explain to me why I might be fearful."
A bolt of lightning lit the sky, and its immense glow strobed into the deep.
The whole night stirred, but the fox in it was tense, motionless, quiet. He'd hoped so diligently to be wrong about this very thing. He'd hoped his caution was needless. That his ambivalence towards the system he himself was a part of was misplaced.
"Doctor Orshack," Nick inched forward, his gaze entreating. "Are you implying,"
"I'm speaking the honest to God truth!" he raved. "Their connections go deeper than you know. And—" his hooves jerked up rapidly, "And if you think you're safe now that you're with the pop star, you're wrong! They're just gonna use her to—"
The zebra's words were split by a loud crack. His head flung forward, and all the breath in his lungs forced out in a single, reflexive 'whump'. His body sprang up for a moment, rigid as an ironing board before splaying backward, lifeless, into the roaring depths of the canal.
Nick scrubbed the blood out of his eyes, and a blast that wasn't thunder rang out of the darkness.
He could hear Judy shouting in his ear again, but her voice seemed too distant to make out. In fact, he couldn't hear much of anything anymore. He turned awkwardly and began to stagger away, until his legs were as heavy as his breaths, and he collapsed into the puddle at his ankles.
His paw moved into his shirt then, tracking listlessly towards a warmth blooming out of his abdomen. He touched the area gently, and when his paw drew back, his fingers were stained red. The bullet had hit him too.
He fumbled at once for the transmitter in his ear, a task made difficult by his worsening motor skills. He snapped the button on it twice, and that was that. He settled against the embankment and his body sank into the mud.
In the quiet of his mind, Nick was afraid. Afraid of dying, to be sure. But even more afraid of what would become of Gazelle. He imagined the singer, having suffered enough tragedy for a lifetime, hearing the news of him and shattering to pieces.
His inhalations slowed. Then all the workings of his mind strayed into one thought, as thoughts often do before deep sleep. And with this thought the fox willed to see her one last time, if only to tell her much he loved her, and how sorry he was for breaking her heart.