Disclaimer: Zootopia stories, characters, settings, and properties belong to the Walt Disney Co. This story is written under Fair Use Copyright laws.
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The Fire Triangle
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Part Two:
Oxidizer
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There's nothing you can do when you're next in line
You've got to go, domino
Do you know?
Do you know?
Do you know what you have done?
Do you see what you've begun?
Genesis
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Chapter 5—Meet on the Ledge
(Continued...Part 6)
Even from deep inside his hidey-hole Zack March could hear the crowd going bananas.
He had ducked down here after spotting that cheetah guard. As bunnies go, he was pretty fast...but there was no way he could outrun a member of that species—at least not in an open field. In an underground tunnel however, he held the advantage.
Or that is...he might have if Max's dig hadn't taken him straight into a concrete wall, turning his escape route into an instant rabbit-trap. Worst of all there'd been no sign of his cousin anywhere; he had never felt so alone.
But now...whoa, listen to all that hoopla coming from the amphitheater; someone must have really killed it onstage if he could hear the crowd-noise all the way down here at the bottom of Max's hole. Hmmm, maybe–just maybe–that craziness upstairs would distract the cops long enough for him to make a break. Yep, yep...they'd probably all gone back inside the theater to see what the fuss was about. In any event, it couldn't hurt to check; just one quick look to see if the coast was clear.
It might have occurred to the young buck-rabbit right then to ditch the chartreuse hoodie first. His cousin Max would have done it–but then, he wasn't Max.
Nose twitching and ears on full alert, the silver-black young bunny pulled up out of the hole and crept carefully towards the half-circle of blue at the edge of the foliage. Almost at once he realized that the cheers and shouts from the theater seats were actually working against him. An earthmover could be working five feet away and he wouldn't be able to hear it...not over the sound of that crowd. Ahhh, maybe this hadn't been such a good idea after all.
Zack turned to go back the way he had come—and at that instant, something seized him by the foot and yanked him out into the daylight. A half second later, he was looking into the inverted face of a female cheetah, held fast in her grip by the ankles.
The next thing he saw was the big cat giving herself a face pawlm, "Ohhh, meowiiiir; stupid, idiot, drone-jockey!"
"What's the matter?" A new voice asked, and from the corner of his eye Zack saw a police officer approaching; a sheep. He was about five feet away when he stopped and abruptly repeated the cheetah's gesture. "Oh, baaaaah, I don't BELIEVE this!"
"I know, right?" she growled, shaking her head and then asking nervously "I-I-I don't suppose you'd care to do me a BIG favor and notify Command?"
The sheep immediately waved a hoof.
"Wha...? Nooo, thanks! Anyway, this is Bock's mess; let HIM clean it up."
"Yeah, good thought," the cheetah nodded.
"Uhmmm, can you please set me down on the ground again?" Zack's voice was not unlike someone rubbing a toy-balloon,
Catano and Grazer were wise to let the drone pilot deliver the bad news. The effect upon Lieutenant Tufts was not unlike the removal of a pin from a paw grenade—a few seconds of silence and then ka-BOOM!
Had he been a larger animal, a predator in particular, his meltdown would have been terrifying. But being as he was a rodent species, a squirrel to be exact, the reaction from his subordinates was mostly a struggle to keep from laughing. It's hard to be intimidated by someone shredding post-it notes and throwing paper-clips.
Even so, they were all glad that they weren't Sergeant Larry Bock right then.
"You STUPID, pea-brained, idiot waste of space!" the Kaibab squirrel screamed into his headset. "How...how...HOW could you mistake a bunny for a fox? Of all the...!" He went on in that vein for several minutes, promising, among other things, to bust the ibex down to patrol-mammal and either banish him to the Meadowlands or have him on parking duty until computers went back to floppy disks. It wasn't until after he'd dismissed the hapless drone-jockey that one of the techs, a beaver, made bold to raise a finger.
"Sir...Officer Catano wants to know..."
"NOW what?" Tufts demanded rhetorically, switching frequencies on his headset and speaking on his cell rather than the police band. "What IS it, Catano?" He sounded almost like an angry teenager. "WHAT, Mom?"
"Sorry Lieutenant," the cheetah cop replied, in the confident voice of an animal who knows that someone else is at fault. "But what should we do with this bunny-kid; should we let him go, or...?"
"No, let's take him back to headquarters and crown him King of the Precinct!"
That was what Albert Tufts wanted to say; it was what he would have said except...
Even in his most agitated moments, he was a squirrel capable of the occasional flight of intuition.
Such as right now, for example...
"Depends; was he up to anything he shouldn't have been?"
Before the cheetah-cop could answer, another voice broke in. "Lieutenant, it's Officer Grazer. The answer is yes; there's a freshly dug hole in the trees behind where we caught him. He insists that it isn't his work, but..."
"All right, bring him here," the Kaibab squirrel replied. He had no idea why he'd ordered the kid brought in—except something was telling him that he should be brought in. If nothing else, that bunny-boy would be able to fill in a gap in their knowledge. The kids wearing those yellow hoodies had donned them at Conor Lewis's behest. Everyone in the command truck knew that, and they also knew the purpose of the young fox's gambit. What they didn't know was how he'd managed to get the word out to all those other young mammals. With a little luck, the kid Catano had in custody would be able to fill in that detail.
Sitting down in his chair again, Tufts at last began to calm himself. They still had that trace going on the Lewis kid's GPS jammer. They'd get him; oh yes, they'd get him.
Zack was taken to the Command truck by way of a slightly circuitous route, with his escorts making certain to stay on open ground and keep away from any brush or trees. Grazer was on the young bunny's right, and Catano was on his left, keeping a paw on his shoulder. Their efforts were probably unnecessary; the kid was a complete wreck, walking with a shuffle and blubbering his eyes out. Still...he'd already tried to run for it once; they couldn't take any chances.
Had the cheetah and sheep-cop chosen to linger a moment before departing with their suspect, they might have bagged a second young rabbit emerging from the shrubbery—bigger, dusky, and much more muscular than his cousin.
Max March had made up his mind to book it even before the applause on Erin's performance had started to fade. There'd been no point in sticking around; he'd been unable to see her performance from behind that stage door, although he'd been able to hear her—and what he'd heard had put the awe in awesome.
But as for surprising her when she came offstage—that option had become totally not an option. No way was he going to pull that stunt now, not with an Afurican wild dog and a coyote-girl hanging in the wings, especially the coyote. Max had a phobia about that species–and not an irrational one. He'd been forced to miss Carrot Days this year because a pack of 'yotes was gunning for him...and they'd be after him still, if they weren't all cooling their heels in jail.
It had started back in April, when he and his cousin had been out on Star Route 28, hitch-hiking home from a late-night party. Suddenly, up ahead, a pickup truck had come squealing around a corner, heading in their direction. Zack, who had keener eyesight than he did, had quickly recognized it.
"Oh my God, get down Cuz; that's the Guilford's truck!"
Luckily, there'd been an empty drainage ditch by the side of the road, and—surprisingly—the two young rabbits had managed to get to it without being spotted.
As the truck shot past where he and his cousin were crouched, Max had managed to catch a glimpse inside the truck-bed. Yep, there was Craig Guilford, and there was his girlfriend, Amanda. He'd been unable to see who was driving, but it didn't matter. If there was one family you didn't want to cross paths with, late at night, on a lonely road, it was that pack of psycho-yotes.
After giving it an extra few seconds to make sure the truck was gone, Max had stood up, stretched his arms, and immediately felt someone grab him by the shoulder.
"Cuz, look!"
It was Zack and he was pointing off into the distance...where a pillar of whitish-yellow fire was swirling up into the sky.
Max had instantly grabbed him right back, "Sweet cheez n' crackers, that's the Luckyfoot produce stand!"
The young buck bunny hadn't needed to think; he'd immediately pulled out his cell phone and called 9-1-1.
He'd said nothing about the pickup truck, much less about the occupants. Heck, he hadn't even identified himself to the dispatcher. No need to explain to some Sheriff's deputy what HE'D been doing out on Star Route 28...after 11, on a school night.
Unfortunately for the dusky young rabbit, the Burrow County Fire Department had quickly ruled the blaze an arson fire. Even more unfortunately, as was common around The Burrow, suspicion for the fire had fallen instantly on the Guilford clan. Most unfortunately of all for Max, Craig Guilford had, in fact, seen him and his cousin ducking for cover that night. And then, not being the sharpest blade on the plowshare, he'd put two and two together and come up with six. Max March had snitched him out to the Sheriff for that fire–and he was going to pay!
That had been the opinion of not only Craig, but also his father and his uncles. The Guilford family creed had always been, "Mess with any one of us and you're messing with all of us." It didn't help that the young coyote had managed to convince his dad that the accusation was bogus—that once again his family was being scapegoated for something they hadn't done.
Blissfully unaware that the Guilfords had him in the crosshairs, Max had gone about his daily business without a care in the world—until the day he'd nearly walked straight into an ambush Craig had set for him.
If it hadn't been for Zack...
Max had just wrapped up his weekly workout at the Bunnyburrow 'Y' and was sitting outside at the bus-stop when his cell phone buzzed. Not in the mood for a conversation he'd almost let it go to voicemail...and thank God he hadn't.
"Max, this is Zack. Where are you?"
Hmmm, what kind of question was that? He would have hung up right then and there—if his cousin hadn't sounded so scared.
"At the 'Y', at the bus-stop out front; what the...?
Zack had swiftly cut him off.
"Listen Cuz, whatever you do, don't get on that bus, do you hear me? DON'T GET ON THAT BUS!"
Max had stared at the phone with his nose twitching. "What...why?"
The answer had turned his blood to ice-water.
"Craig Guilford's on it, waiting for ya. He thinks you called the Sheriff on him over that...look, I don't have time. Get out of there, get back inside the 'Y'...go! My dad and I are on the way."
Needing no further encouragement, Max had bolted back through the door, and then scrambled upstairs to the commons room. Peering out through the window, he'd looked just in time to see the bus pulling away from the curb. And there, standing at the roadside was Craig Guilford, along with one of his younger brothers and an uncle.
They had NOT looked like happy campers.
On the drive back to the March Family warren, Zack told him that he'd gotten the story from Johnny Combs, who had refused to say where he'd heard it. It hardly mattered. Max had seen it for himself, and by the end of the week confirmation had come in from several different sources. The Guilfords had it in for him—big time.
Upon hearing the news, Max's folks had moved decisively, sending him off to stay with his grandparents in Colorato 'until things die down'...and the dusky young buck-bunny hadn't raised even a peep of protest. As much as he disliked the idea of spending time with his mom's folks, he liked even less the idea of spending time in the ICU.
He wasn't ashamed to admit his fear of either that particular pack of coyotes, or of 'yotes in general...to himself, if no one else.. And so, when he had peered out through that stage door and spotted another member of that species—forget it; he wasn't going out there.
Perhaps, if that hadn't been the thing on Max's mind when he crawled back out of the undergrowth...
But it was and so, when he stood up and looked to the right, his heart fell straight into his stomach. There was Zack, trembling in fear as he was led away by a pair of ZPD police officers.
Thinking fast, the dusky young buck rabbit dived hurriedly back under cover...and then he too was quivering uncontrollably.
It was his fault, it was all his fault. If he'd stuck to the original plan instead of chasing off after Erin—and what a waste that had been—if he'd stayed inside the amphitheater with his cousin, the worst they'd have to face was a chewing out from their counselor.
But now...? Max knew exactly what was going on here; the cops had found one of the holes he'd dug and thought his cousin was the culprit. You didn't have to be Detective Coonan to figure that one out.
Ohhh, sweet cheez' n' firecrackers; he couldn't let Zack take the blame for something he'd done—especially after what had happened with Craig Guilford. But what could he do? If he went to the cops and confessed, they'd only take him into custody. Oh God, wasn't there another way...any other way?
He would have answered that question with a flat no, if he could have seen Lt. Tufts right then.
It began quietly enough, when another of his techs, an alpaca, raised a finger.
"Sir...we've got a trace on that GPS jammer signal."
"Good. goo..." the Kaibab squirrel started to say, before the words died in his throat. Officer Quino was avoiding his gaze.
He felt his tail beginning to flip.
"Well, all right, where's it coming from?" he demanded, paws going to his hips.
The alpaca swallowed hard, and Tufts could have sworn he saw a wince.
"From...From here, sir."
"What?"
"Uhm, that's right Lieutenant." Quino appeared to be trying not to spit, "Somehow, he got plugged into our router and he's using our serv..."
"WHAAAAT!" the Kaibab squirrel screamed. "Shut it down, shut it down!"
The alpaca wrung his hooves and looked up at the ceiling.
"S-Sir, if we do that, we'll have to take the entire command truck off line and..."
"AHHHHGGH...Chit-chit-chit-chit-chit-chit-chiitrrrrrr!"
Tufts stomped to his chair and fell into it backwards, looking defeated....
...And then shot bolt-upright, pressing once more on his headset.
"Command to Grazer, Command to Grazer. Acknowledge please...over."
"Command this is Grazer, I read you, over." The sheep sounded more than a little unsure of his status.
Tufts crossed his fingers and then spoke again. "That rabbit-hole you found; is it big enough to accommodate a fox? Over..."
"No sir," the answer came back at once, and the Kaibab squirrel felt his fists beginning to knot. But then..."No wait, hold that thought; an adult fox, no, but are you thinking of the Lewis kid? In that case yes; it'd be a pretty tight fit, but he could manage it, over."
The fist that had been clenched now pumped in the air. Up until now the ZPD–and Albert Tufts–had been operating under the assumption that Conor Lewis was working alone. It was a not-unreasonable conjecture; given that foxes were a solitary species—but then there had been that business with the hoodies. Sooo, maybe their suspect had also recruited some active assistance. Tufts would know more when Catano and Grazer arrived with that rabbit-kid. But in the meantime...
"Quino, have the officers stationed inside the theater start searching the grounds for any rabbit-holes."
The alpaca stared at him for a second. "Rabbit...holes, sir?"
Tufts' tail flipped and his brows flattened.
"What's the matter, you have a hearing problem? Yes, rabbit holes...look for them in any out-of-the way location."
"Y-Yes sir."
"And get hold of Hopps and tell her to stand by. If we find one, we may need her help after all."
"Yes, sir."
Judy didn't get the message, not right away. She had her cell-phone set on vibrate, and even if she hadn't, she wouldn't have been able to hear it.
Erin had returned to the fold–and now it wasn't just her dad; NOBODY was able to hold back the waterworks, not her mother, not the rest of her family, not the girls in her posse...and especially not her sister, the bunny-cop.
"Oh, sis...I've never been so proud," Judy sniffed, wiping her nose with a finger. Yes, that was a tired cliché...but it was also the perfect thing to say at that moment.
When Erin had come off stage, the kids in the wings had been all over her with congratulations. Jason m'Beke had been jumping up and down like a puppy with a new toy; "We got a bass playah! We got a BASS playah!" until his girlfriend made him cool his jets.
And then, very formally, Dana had said to the young doe-bunny. "Ms. Hopps...when you get to the Academy, we three would be honored if..."
"Hey don't forget me!" a small voice had piped up from down around ankle level.
"Oops, sorry Mike," the coyote girl had smiled, "We four would be honored if you would agree to be part of our band."
Erin had immediately smiled back, "I'd love to."
On her way out, she'd heard the black rat say to the others, "We're going to need some help with that, uh...you know, at the other end."
"I take care of it," Jason had said—and that was the last thing Erin heard before exiting the stage door.
Outside, she'd found her posse waiting to greet her...and then they had insisted on carrying not only her gear but also HER, hefting the young doe-bunny up onto their shoulders, and bearing her back to her family in triumph.
Every step of the way she had been showered with praise by the kids in the chartreuse hoodies.
"Awesome, bunny....totally...awesome!"
"Yo! You GO, girl!"
"Whoa, that was sooooo SICK!"
" My songs know what you did in the darrrrrk."
Everywhere she'd gone she'd been greeted with waves and fists of solidarity.
Now, back with her family, and sharing a hug with Judy an odd thought occurred to the young, white-furred bunny. It was good to be a rabbit...and it was even better to be a Hopps.
But then, before the notion had time to settle into place, a new one crept in on top of it—and Erin caught herself looking towards the stage. The prompter's box wasn't visible from this angle, but she knew it was there. And now she felt the tears again.
"I never got the chance to thank him."
In the truck across the street, the feelings regarding Conor Lewis were nearly the polar opposite of hers.
And Lieutenant Albert Tufts, ZPD was feeling none too happy with Zack March at the moment, either. Not only was the kid refusing to own up to any sort of association with the fugitive young silver-fox, he wouldn't even admit to...
"I didn't dig that hole," he insisted, for something like the tenth time in a row. He said this while looking directly into the Kaibab squirrel's eyes, his gaze never wavering for an instant. That, along with his body language, told Tufts that the young buck-bunny was telling the truth; he really wasn't the responsible party.
Perhaps...but that still didn't put him even within shouting distance of being let off the hook.
"All right, maybe you didn't–but you knew it was there; you didn't just happen to duck into the one place inside those trees where there just happened to be a rabbit-hole. You knew it was there, and I think you know who made it. So, who was it?"
Zack said nothing, only shook uncontrollably with his nose twitching...but this time, his gaze went sideways. Okay, now he was holding something back. Tufts would get to that in a second, but first he needed to backtrack a little.
"All right son, but can you at least tell me this much? That hoodie you're wearing; how did you know to bring it here, and how did you know to put it on when you heard that air-horn?"
"I...I got a text message," Zack was barely able to meet Tufts gaze, but he met it nonetheless.
He said nothing more, and before the squirrel could ask the obvious question, he saw Officer Quino raising an urgent hoof.
"What is it?" he asked, sensing this was something he DIDN'T want to ignore.
"It's Wolford sir," the alpaca said, "He found another rabbit hole, down by the right side of the stage. He says there's no sign of any fox scent, but that at least two bunnies dug it out."
Tufts immediately wheeled on Zack March. "Did you help dig that hole?"
"I...I..." the words ended in a wrenching sob.
Tufts chittered in frustration and raised his voice. "Where the heck is HOPPS, did she even answer her phone yet?"
"No sir," A timid voice responded.
The squirrel's paws went to his hips again.
"Well then, someone get down there and have her go check on it–and right now."
"I'll go sir," Kii Catano responded, grateful for any excuse to just get the heck out of here.
She went to the back and raised the roll-up door—actually threw it open...
...and stepped back with the tip of her tail flickering. There was Swinton, standing with her hoof on the shoulder of another young rabbit. This one had light brown fur and a much more muscular build than the one they'd caught earlier.
"Wha...?" a diminutive, angry voice called from behind the cheetah-cop. "Swinton, who the heck is that?"
It was the bunny beside her that answered him.
"My name is March, Max March," he said and then pointed inside the command truck. "And that's my cousin Zack. Let him go and I'll tell you where Conor Lewis is."
"Bring him in here, Swinton." Tufts ordered, in a cool, level voice, "And Catano, you get going." His whiskers bobbed for a second as he remembered something. "Oh, and one more thing..."
It took the cheetah-cop only a minute or two to catch up with Judy—and when she did, the doe-bunny turned out to be surprisingly amenable to the idea of going on duty.
Her family, on the other paw, wasn't quite so accommodating.
"Oh, for carrot-cake's sake, do you have to take her now?" Bonnie Hopps had her paws planted firmly on her hips.
"No FAIR!" little Cotton was pouting up at the cheetah-cop, arms akimbo in unconscious imitation of her grandmother.
"Guys, guys, come on," Judy raised her paws in a placating gesture. "It's not like I'm going to miss anything; Erin's done with her performance."
"Yes, and that was amazing," Kii Catano nodded, beaming a quick smile at the young doe-bunny. "Anyway this will only take a few minutes."
"You sure?" Bonnie eyed the big cat suspiciously.
"Scout's honor, Mrs. H," she answered, raising a paw. "Someone dug a rabbit hole down by the end of the stage..."
"It wasn't me!" Erin chirped up at once, and everyone laughed—including Judy, although hers was just a wee bit forced. No, her kid sister hadn't dug that hole...but her response just now had been a mite too quick for comfort. They'd have a word about it later, and in private. But for now, the elder bunny's ears were up and so was her curiosity.
"Sorry, to have to bother you with this," Catano went on, having apparently mistaken her reaction for something else, "But you're the only one small enough to..."
"Kay, 'kay...I get it, I'm coming," Judy raised her paws again, "Where, exactly, is this hole?"
"Down there," the cheetah cop pointed to the far left side of the stage, where a lupine figure was standing with his paws behind his back, "See Wolford when you get there, he'll point it out to you. Oh, and tell him the Lieutenant wants him back up at the command-truck as soon as..."
"Command truck?" Stu Jr. was thumping his foot. "What the HECK is going on here, Judy?"
He was giving her a mildly accusatory look.
"Do I look like I know?" she shot right back. And it wasn't entirely untrue. She knew that Tufts was here and why...but what the heck did a rabbit hole have to do with any of this? And that brought up another question.
"Do we have any idea who dug the thing?" She was looking at Kii Catano.
To Judy's slight surprise, the big cat nodded at once. "Yeah," she said regarding the other Hopps bunnies warily, "we've got a couple of young rabbits in custody that we think are responsible. The Lieutenant wants Wolford to give them a sniff to confirm it."
"What the heck do you need a command truck for something like that for?" It was Stu Hopps Jr. again, and this time Violet intervened.
"For something that's none of our business Junior. Sweet cheez n' crackers, give it a rest, why don't you?"
While all this was going on, Erin Hopps was wringing her paws and looking sick.
No one noticed...and it was a lucky thing for the young, white-furred bunny that she couldn't see what was transpiring inside the command truck just then. Had that been possible, she could have never managed to keep her feelings under wraps.
"I don't LIKE being lied to, son!"
"I wasn't lying, I swear!"
Tufts was standing at the edge of the table, nearly nose to nose with Max March. It was an almost ludicrous scene—made more so by the fact that it was the bigger animal who was unable to maintain eye contact.
"Oh really?" the Kaibab squirrel sniffed, raising an eyebrow and flipping his tail. "Let's go over what you said so far. You snuck backstage to the rehearsal room—you still haven't told me why—and then you peeked in through the stage door to see what was happening. And that's when you saw the Lewis boy, is that correct?"
"Uh-uhm yeah, I..."
"But you don't know how he got there?"
"No, I already told you..."
"And you didn't see where he went either?"
"I already said that I didn't."
Tufts folded his arms and his whiskers bobbed.
"Yes... and what you also said was, and I quote, 'Let my cousin go and I'll tell you where Conor Lewis is.'" He leaned forward, flashing his incisors. "That's not where he IS, son; it's where he was—and it doesn't help us."
"When was the first time you actually met Conor Lewis?" Officer Quino interjected—on cue, although Max had no way of knowing it.
"Never," the young buck bunny frantically shook his head. "I only saw him online before today."
"Then how do you know it was him you saw backstage?" The alpaca inquired coolly, "I seem to recall that he was wearing a mask during both of those webcasts."
"I...uhhh..."
"All right, never mind," Lieutenant Tufts interrupted, waving a paw. "Describe the fox you saw when you looked in through that door," He sat back on his haunches, folding his arms, "You can do that much, can't you?"
"Ummm yeah," the young buck rabbit fidgeted for a second and then lifted an arm, with the pawlm turned downwards. "He was about yea taller than I am with dark gray fur all over."
"You mean light gray on black fur, don't you?" Quino interrupted.
"Noooo, I know that color," Max replied, pointing towards his cousin as a point of reference. "He was like a grey fox but gray all over, no white fur anywhere, and way darker than a regular grey, like...I don't know, like wet concrete or...."
Tufts threw up his paws. "Okay kid, stop right there. I've been face to face with Conor Lewis, and that isn't him. Now you're not only lying to me, you're also wasting my time."
"It was him, I swear," Max cried out as if for mercy. "I saw him talking to a bunch of other kids back there. THEY knew him, THEY recognized him; they called him by name!"
"And when was this?" Tufts asked him, in the voice of someone whose next words are going to be something on the order of, 'Yeah, yeah...now tell me about the Tooth Fairy!'
"Right after that cheetah security-guard left," Max answered him, "before....right before Erin Hopps went onstage."
"Officer Ponder," Tufts turned to the beaver on his right, "Pull up the last three minutes of Catano's body-cam before she exited; put it on monitor two and play it back at half speed."
"Yes, sir," the big rodent responded. A burst of static snow appeared on the display above and to the left of the Kaibab squirrel. After a second, it dissolved to a slightly fished-eyed view of the amphitheater's right-side stage wings. A total of four mammals were visible; a bunny, a coyote and another canine, both of them crouching over her. Out on the stage, just barely discernible, was a feline of some indeterminate species.
"All right," Tufts said, and then nodded up at the screen. "Which of these animals did you see talking to the Lewis boy?"
"It was..." Max pointed and started to say—but then he caught the look on his cousin's face and the rest of the words dried up in his mouth. Oh, no, what have I...?
Too late; his inquisitor wasn't about to back off after seeing him get this close.
"Freeze that," the squirrel said, pointing up at the screen. And then to Max he said, "All right son, now let me tell you something you don't know. There's been a lot of vandalism going on in Zootopia this summer; way too much and the city's about had it. We're cracking down HARD on anyone caught defacing property; and yes, that includes digging holes in another mammal's yard. So either you start cooperating with me—and right now—or else you, and your cousin can both start packing your bags for Juvie. Do I make myself clear?"
"Y-Yes sir." Max seemed to have shrunk to an even smaller size than Zack.
Tufts stood up and clicked his teeth. "Now, one more time...WHO did you see talking to Conor Lewis? Think it over, kid. In case you didn't hear me earlier, the officer who found that hole inside the theater is a wolf. One whiff...that's all he'll need to confirm whether or not it was you that dug it."
Yes he could...but not for a while. Judy hadn't yet told Wolford that he was needed back at the command truck. Kii Catano instructions had been, 'have him report there as soon as...' but then she'd been interrupted before she could finish.
And so the doe-bunny had chosen to fill in the blank with 'as soon as you're done with him.' And she wasn't quite finished with the timber-wolf, not just yet. There was probably nothing down that in hole she couldn't handle herself–but then Chief Bogo had thought there was nothing in that subway tunnel he couldn't handle either...and how had that almost worked out? 'My mistake was thinking ME, not we,' he'd said–and Judy was not about to ignore the big Cape buffalo's advice.
Now, working her way down the rabbit-hole, she concluded that the wolf-cop had been correct in his assessment. This dig was the work of two different bunnies. She further deduced that they had both been bucks and that one of the culprits had been larger than the other. The bigger bunny had done most of the work for the first few yards; after that, he'd been on his own. Had Judy been a little bit more familiar with Max March, she could have confirmed the hole was his handiwork without any outside help; every rabbit has their own unique digging style.
But now she came to a dead end. And what the...? This wasn't rock, it was...bricks?
A brick wall...down here? And now she noticed something Max had missed; the wall seemed to tilt slightly away from her. With a twitching nose, she used a finger claw to scratch away the earth covering the upper part of the masonry and saw it curve away even further. Hrmph, wall nothing; she had run into a pipe of some kind... perhaps even a tunnel; what the heck, now?
Well, there was one quick way to find out. She thumped on the bricks with the flat of her paw and was rewarded with a hollow, booming sound, faint, but very distinct. There was indeed an empty space on the other side of this masonry.
But what was its purpose? She scratched at the mortar with a finger claw, saw it flake away under the pressure. Ohhhh-kay, good...but she'd need a tool of some kind if she wanted to...oh, wait; maybe Wolford had something she could use.
She turned around and scurried back up the hole.
When she got to the surface, the timber wolf was crouched on his haunches scratching behind an ear. Seeing her, he immediately stood up again.
"Sorry, Detective."
"No sweat," Judy replied, not a little self-consciously. Being deferred to by someone she'd only recently considered an equal was going to take some getting used to. "Got a nightstick there? Let me see it."
"Sure, no problem," the wolf replied, passing it over.
Judy took it and then looked up with her nose twitching.
"What the heck, Wolford?"
He laughed and held up his paws.
"Don't look at me; it came with the uniform; about the right size for you though, huh?"
"So it is," the doe-bunny noted, feeling the weight. It was carbon fiber rather than wood; practically indestructible. She looked up again. "Okay, got a flashlight?"
This time the timber wolf shook his head, "Sorry, no," he said, and then pointed towards the rabbit hole. "What's up, did you find something down there?"
"Yep," she said, "Would you believe...a brick wall? I think there's something on the other side; that's why I wanted this." She hefted the nightstick again.
"Right," Wolford nodded and then sucked at a corner of his mouth. "Uhmmm, listen..."
"Yes, you're finished here," Judy answered and then pointed with the stick, "The Lieutenant wants you back at the command truck. They've got some bunny kids in custody up there that they think dug this hole. He needs you to check their scent and confirm it."
"Done and done." the wolf-cop nodded again, and then his tail began to wag. "Before I take off though Detective, I just want to say, your sister's performance back there was just the bomb; I really hope she gets accepted to the Academy."
"Thanks Wolford," Judy replied, smiling—and feeling her nose start to twitch again. Was it her imagination or had there been just a tiny edge of guilt to his voice? Maybe...but that was something else for later. "Better get going, you know how he hates to be kept waiting."
"Don't I know it!" the gray wolf growled, turning to go, "Good luck Detective."
"You, too," she answered, and then turned and scuttled back down the hole again.
She began by rapping on the wall with the side of the baton. This time the noise was both louder and more pronounced...and it seemed to be echoing up from below.
All right then...Judy turned the tonfa-nightstick over in her paw, with the bead-end pointed toward the wall. And then gripping it above the side-handle for extra leverage, she drove it into the upper part of the masonry. A plume of dried mortar puffed away from the bricks, and she repeated the movement...and then again and again, in the manner of an animal attempting to split a block of ice with a pick.
On the fifth impact, she met with success: one of the bricks came away from the wall and fell with a clunk into the space on the other side.
Bringing her eye close to the opening, Judy peered within, trying to see. It was no good; nothing visible but a curtain of ink. She tried using her cell-phone's LED light, but all that did was create a pencil-point of brightness filled with dust-motes–and nothing visible beyond.
She put the phone away and went back to work with the tonfa. This time, however, the wall seemed impervious to her efforts. She hit it again, over, and over—and was rewarded with only a few chips of masonry for her troubles.
Taking in a short, hard a breath, Judy reared back and hit the wall hard, the way she would if she were attempting to breach a barricaded door.
Nothing happened, and so she tried again, slamming the stick into the wall, twice in a row.
Still no luck, so she hit it again, three times in succession.
A huge crack shot down the masonry in front of her, like the opening of an enormous zipper. And then the bricks and mortar gave way all at once and she was tumbling helplessly into the space beyond.
"Whoa–ahhhh-ahhh-ohhh-ohhhh!"
It was only a short fall, a little more than six feet, but she hit the ground hard on her left side. Luckily for her, it was the ground and not any of the bricks she'd knocked loose from the wall up above.
Getting shakily to her feet, she took inventory. Except for having the wind knocked out of her and a few minor scuffs and/or bruises, her body seemed almost completely unhurt.
Her pride, on the other paw, had come away with multiple fractures.
"Smooth move there, dumb bunny...REALLY smart. What the heck did you want to go breaking through that wall for, anyway?"
Okay, yes...but as long as she was down here...
Looking around herself, Judy saw nothing but dim outlines, barely illuminated by the trickle of light seeping through the fissure where she had fallen.
She pulled out her cell, praying that it hadn't been damaged. It appeared to be in good working order, but sweet cheez n' crackers; exactly zero bars were showing and a message was flashing, 'No Service...No Service...No Service...'
Was that her phone...or was the signal just unable to reach down here?
She went to the break in the wall and stood under it, peering upwards.
"Hello...? Wolford...? Anybody...?"
Nothing...no response; there was only a soft rush of air from the hole up above. It was no more than she'd expected, but she'd had to try.
She reached for her phone again, and saw that at least the LED light still worked.
Flicking it on, she realized at once that she had fallen into some kind of tunnel; one branch led off to the left and the other went off to the right. And there, just a few yards away she saw an opening in the wall. Heading over to investigate, she came upon a short flight of steps leading upwards.
Judy took them and found herself in front of a large-mammal door, fitted with an odd sort of latching mechanism.
But the thing that really caught her attention was the padlock holding it shut—an old school lock-and-key model...but not an OLD lock; it was almost brand new.
That told her someone had come through here only a short while ago; someone who didn't want anyone following them.
There was only one possible culprit that she could think of. Great bales of alfalfa, Lieutenant Tufts had been right all along!
But why...why had Conor done it? What the heck could have made that crazy-tailed silver-fox kid show up here today...especially with an army of ZPD officers waiting to bust him?
Never mind, she needed to notify the Lieutenant of her discovery and pronto—if that was possible.
When Judy looked at her cell-phone again, only half a bar was showing. Not enough, but she tried anyway; the call was dropped before it even connected.
Grumbling silently to herself, she returned to the foot of the stairs. There was only one thing left to do, but first she needed to find that nightstick—wait, there it was.
She picked it up, hefting it in her paws and looking to the left and then the right.
"Which way did he go? Which way did he go? Ohhhh, Mom and Dad and the others must be wondering WHAT the heck happened to me just now?"
Not quite; at that particular moment their attention was directed elsewhere.
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Note: The Conclusion to this chapter will be posted on Thursday. Be prepared; this one's a shocker