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The Fire Triangle
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Part Two:
Oxidizer
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Chapter 9: Conor's Story
(Continued...Part 8)
♪ There's a man goin' 'round takin' names
And he decides who to free and who to blame
Everybody won't be treated all the same
There'll be a golden ladder reachin' down
When the man comes around
The hairs on your arm will stand up
At the terror in each sip and in each sup
Will you partake of that last offered cup
Or disappear into the potter's ground?
When the man comes around ♫
Johnny Cash - When the Man Comes Around
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Erin Hopps was in a quandary.
She had accomplished her mission. Somehow, she had managed to get Conor to the Mercy Star floating clinic, arriving at the last possible minute. Once there, he'd received the life-saving medical care he'd so desperately needed-and the prognosis was excellent; a full, if lengthy, recovery.
Finally, the young doe-bunny could breathe easy; her companion of these last few days was going to be alright. And now that Mr. Rodenberg had offered to represent her; she had no reason not to return to Precinct-1 and give herself up to the ZPD. Once the rat-attorney explained why she had run away from jail-that she'd had no-choice with Craig Guilford after her-the authorities understand, and they'd go easy on her. And when they learned the reason that the young coyote had been pursuing her-she'd been witness to a murder he'd committed-they might even drop the charges altogether. For sure, her sister Judy would be sympathetic, lawyer or no lawyer. It was a golden opportunity, and she should grab it like a winning sweepstakes ticket.
There was just one, itsy-bitsy little problem-she didn't want to.
Yes, Conor was going to be fine; his old self again, good as new. Only...not for a while; especially not where his knee was concerned. He was going to be on injured/reserve for at least the next two weeks, maybe more-probably more. And during that period, he'd be only partially mobile at best. How was he supposed to clean his residence, cook for himself, do any kind of repair work; what was he supposed to do if he ran low on provisions? Even uninjured, that silver-fox kid would be taking a huge risk, if he ventured out of...of...outside of wherever the heck he lived. Like it or not he was going to need someone to help take care of him-and like it or not, she was the only available candidate.
Erin knew, of course, that Charcoal-Boy's answer to any such suggestion would be a big, fat NO. And even if she could talk him into it, there was still the small matter of Vernon J. Rodenberg. For sure, HE would turn thumbs-down on the idea of her becoming Conor's nursemaid. Ohhhh, sweet cheez n' crackers...how the heck was she supposed to get the both of them on board? Erin Hopps was nobody's dumb bunny, but pulling this off was going to require some genius-level thinking.
Well...maybe best the thing to do was follow that fox-kid's example-quit agitating and see if, perhaps, the answer would find her.
In the meantime, he still had a story to tell.
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It was like one of those movies where a guy steps into a time machine-or a dimensional transport, or whatever-and then, when he steps out again, it's after The Apocalypse.
That was my first thought when I came out of The Hole after the riot. Granite Point had never been much to look at, but now it was like a landfill on steroids. Piles of garbage all over the place, rubble strewn everywhere, and X-rated graffiti on every wall. Every sink and toilet had been smashed to bits, and then the pieces had either been thrown at the guards or used as slingshot projectiles.
What? Yeah, the Point was still using porcelain fixtures, can you believe that?
But, seriously...if you think Savanna Central Plaza is a mess right now, it's stinkin' pristine, compared to what I saw in The Point's galley. Someone had turned over the fryers and then set fire to the cooking oil...and that was only the beginning. All of the oven and refrigerator doors had been torn off and turned into makeshift riot shields, and all of the cooking tools weaponized. They had even made clubs out of the fire-sprinkler pipes. In the mess hall outside, there wasn't a single usable table.
What's that? Yeah...we'd known something was going on; even down in Total Isolation, you couldn't escape all of the noise coming from upstairs. But none of us-not even Crazy Wez-could have imagined that things were going that far south. Other than all the crashing sounds and whatnot, it had been business as usual for the Enforcer crew. The whole time we were locked up in The Hole, we never missed a meal-such as they were-and the guards never said a word to any of us about what was going on in the main facility. Once, just once, I got up the nerve to ask...and got hosed-down with ice-water for an answer.
What now, Erin? Oh yeah, Hitch wondered about that too. It wasn't until one of the Rager crew, a cheetah kid named Zipper, came by to fill us in on the riot, that we finally got the full story. After he left, I remember that panther-kid shaking his head and looking all confused, "How come none o' them other boys ever tried to come down an' let us outta Isolation?"
It was Scorp who explained it to him; it was precisely because The Enforcers had been under lock and key that the others had felt free to riot. If they let us out again, who knew which side we'd take?
As for me, for once I was actually grateful at having been tossed in The Hole. It might not have been prime accommodations, but at least I'd been safe down there. During the riot up top, there'd been a LOT of scores settled between a lot of different kids. Not only that, The Enforcers were just about the only detainees who came out of that uprising completely blameless.
...Which was more than could be said for a lot of the officers and staff. For the moment, they were allowed to keep their jobs; AKER needed every pair of paws they could get to, just try and make Granite Point at least semi-functional again. Eventually though, heads would have to roll, and everybody knew it.
Heh, I remember a lot of kids hoping that one of those heads would belong to Lurch. Nice thought, but I knew something they didn't. Say what you wanted to about that polar bear, he'd fought tooth and claw to keep our guys from being sent to The Hole. And he'd repeatedly warned his higher-ups of the consequences of that action. Nope...HE wasn't getting canned, probably just the opposite.
There was nothing like a reprieve for the rioters, though...especially the leaders. When they let me out of my isolation cell, not one, not two, but THREE other kids were thrown in to take my place-and I mean literally. They were larger species too, an impala and two deer-bucks, including that kid who'd ridden in on the bus with me. It was gonna be seriously cramped in there-and that was in no way an isolated instance. They packed the Dry Cell so full that from that day on, it was known as the 'Black Hole of Granite Point,' later shortened to just The Black Hole. Meanwhile a whole busload of kids got shipped off to The Clinic-and those were just the guys being sent there as punishment. There were more than a few who went there by ambulance, if you follow what I'm bringing out. One or two of 'em even had to be air-evaced.
Surprisingly, though, there weren't any deaths...among the kids or the staff, although the officers didn't get away clean either. You could count on one paw the number of guards who came out of that fracas without at least a minor injury. Two of them even got taken hostage-including Ravenclaw, although he later managed to escape.
Don't get me wrong; not all of the detainees joined the uprising. When it started, Capper Lee and his guys barricaded themselves in their cells-against the rioters, not the guards. Bug Juice wasn't so lucky; when he tried to order the Jukes to stand down, they accused him of selling out to The Mammal and mutinied. He was one of the kids who had to be air-evaced-punctured lung and a major concussion; we never saw him again.
Whoa, that was a major shocker. Up until then, the quickest way to start a fight with Bug's boyz was to lay some trash-talk on him. Even Wez was blown away when he heard...blown away, but also delighted.
And that almost blew me away; Wez had never liked that marine otter but, up until then, he'd always shown him at least a grudging respect.
Not anymore...and that was only part of it. It was like the sea-mink that came out of The Hole was a completely different animal than the one that went inside. Wez had always been full of himself but now he was strutting around like Napolion or something. No kidding, he practically swaggered when he walked-and I couldn't figure it out; where the heck had he gotten all that 'tude?
It took some time before I found out. Three days after The Enforcers were let out of Total Isolation, Granite Point went into lockdown again and we spent the next two weeks confined to our cells...and since Wez's pad was nowhere close to mine, I couldn't talk to him. Our only way to communicate was through the grapevine...and that was a majorly risky move right then. In the wake of the riot, The Mammal was seeing threats and schemes around every corner and in every little nook and cranny. Seriously...you could nod hello to another kid and the next thing you knew, there'd be a guard in your face. "WHAT was that all about?"
Anyway, my cell had come through the chaos mostly intact-although the toilet didn't work; I had to rely on a bucket and a lid for the duration. On the other paw, the food was much improved. With the Granite Point galley a total wreck, The Mammal had been forced to bring in a National Guard field kitchen to supply our meals. It was almost as good as what I had in The Clinic, and sometimes even better.
While all this was going on, clean-up and repair crews were swarming all over The Point, working all through the day, and sometimes into the night. If we couldn't see them, we could always hear them.
...And smell them; this one outfit liked to use a cleaning solution that was strong enough to lift a jumbo-jet. No kidding; just remembering it now, I can feel my sinuses burning.
Locked in my cell with no reading material-they didn't allow us magazines at ANY time-my only diversion was exercising. Every morning, I ran in place for an hour, then did a thousand push-ups, a thousand sit-ups, a thousand jumping-jacks, and a thousand deep-knee bends. I used to do pullups on the bars, too...but had to make sure there weren't any guards around first.
After calisthenics, I used to practice the fight moves Cutty had taught me. Whoa, had HE ever been lucky to get out of here when he did.
When the lockdown finally ended, it wasn't just The Enforcers that got let out of their cells, it was every kid in The Point-including the ones who'd been shut up in Isolation. Phee-YEW, I didn't need a fox's sense of smell to know those guys were around; they hadn't been given time to shower. And that did not bode well for what I thought was coming next.
Yep...deja vu, all over again; we were marched out to The Yard-which now looked like the final scene from All Quiet on the Western Front-and then lined up and given cleaning tools.
And once again, there was a refusal. Only this time, it was the last kid anyone would have expected to raise a stink.
Would you believe...Wez McCrodon?
Whoa, when he downed that broom, you could have heard a hummingbird feather drop. Everyone was like totally stunned; even Lurch was shaking his head in disbelief...and it was all the opening that sea mink kid needed. Stepping forward, he snapped to attention so smartly, I thought I heard his heels click.
"Sergeant Denali...sir, may I speak please?"
Wha...? Wez had never shown that kind of deference to any guard, much less this big jerk. What the fox was he up to? Anyway, he didn't wait for an answer before continuing.
"Sir, it was my guys getting sent to Total Isolation that caused this stinkin' mess in the first place." As he spoke, he swept his paw around the yard, and then dropped it to his side again. "I know you tried to stop it, sir-and you were right. So, don't you think it would be a better idea to have us help keep order instead of giving us cleaning chores? I mean...who knows what might happen if The Enforcers were unable to carry out their assigned task."
Oh!
My!
GOD!
I thought my heart was gonna shoot up my throat and come right out the top of my head. If ever there was a time when Crazy Wez McCrodon lived up to his nickname, it was right here, right now. In so many words, he had just given that polar bear an ultimatum-pull my guys off cleaning detail, or you'll have another riot on your paws.
The only saving grace was that he'd at least offered up an escape hatch; a face-saving way to comply with his demand. Yeah, fine, but would Lurch take it-or would he take his stick to the sea-mink kid who was daring to defy him?
After a long, tense moment, he scratched his head.
"Grrr, yeah, that does make sense. All right, you and your boys can go ahead and fall out," And then, shooting a hard finger at Wez McCrodon, he fired off a veiled threat of his own. "But there better not be ANY kind of trouble, from any of the others...or you know who I'm going to hold responsible."
As it turned out, there were zero problems with any of the other kids that day-but ohhhh yeah, there was trouble. I found that out at a meeting we held in what was left of the library, after we knocked off for the day.
Meeting? Nooo, I couldn't really call it that. Wez did nearly all the talking...and while he was speaking, no one else was allowed to get a word in edgewise.
I have to admit though, that sea-mink kid knew how to spin a line-puffing himself up by pretending to act all humble and whatever.
"I shoulda seen it a long time ago, guys...but nooooooo, The Point hadda get wrecked from end to end before I caught on. Right now, I could kick myself from here to stinkin' Pawkeepsie."
He paused then, waiting...and I knew he wasn't going to say anything else until somebody asked 'the question.'
"Ahhh, sorry big guy," I remember thinking, "not me, not this time." I was pretty sure already where he was going with this.
Like anyone could have figured, it was Hitch who finally raised a paw. "What-all are you talking about, Boss?" He had taken to calling Wez by that name of late, and that sea-mink kid just ate it up. The answer that came was almost a sermon.
"The minute we got put in The Hole, what happened? Granite Point went right off the rails, that's what." He clapped his paws together. "And when we came out again, that was when I finally knew-the thing I shoulda known all along; the guards can't get by without us! Us Enforcers are the only thing standing between The Mammal and total chaos. If they lock us up again-or if we just plain decide to stand down-boom, here comes another riot." He clapped his paws again, twice this time. "We own it, guys! From now on, things are gonna be different for us around here."
Everyone stood up, whooping and cheering like they'd just seen the home team score a Hail Mary touchdown...but in my case it was forced, and I was sure that I wasn't the only guy faking it. There were only about a million holes in Wez Bunniparte's little supposition.
First of all, it might have taken a riot to make HIM realize how vital The Enforcers were to keeping order in this place-but you better believe that wasn't the case with Lurch. He hadn't fought so hard to keep us from being sent to The Hole out of any sense of compassion. He had seen that riot coming and, knowing him, he'd seen Wez's little blackmail scheme coming too; that polar bear was mean, but he wasn't stupid. Okay, he'd backed down once, and maybe he'd do it again. With The Point in shambles, he'd had little choice. But once this place was put back in order, then what? I didn't like to think about it.
Plus...yeah, Granite Point needed us now, but who was to say that situation was permanent? They could bring in more guards, beef up the security system...or even recruit a new set of kids to be The Enforcers. For sure, caving to Wez's demands wasn't the only option The Mammal had if he came up with another sugar-coated ultimatum. Couldn't he see that for himself?
And on the subject of that sea-mink's relationship with reality, he was also operating under a big assumption here-that in the wake of the uprising, Granite Point was a tinderbox, waiting on a spark. But was it, though? A lot of the kids I'd seen, when we'd been marched out into the yard, had looked pretty darn cowed to me-and the ones I knew to be troublemakers had been nowhere in sight.
There was one other thing Wez hadn't considered...and that I hoped like heck he wouldn't consider. Maybe Granite Point couldn't get by without The Enforcers-but The Enforcers could sure as heck get by without HIM. We'd proven that when we'd taken out Eddie D, while he'd been locked up in the Dry Cell. And since I'd been the one who planned that ambush, it wasn't impossible that he might get a little idea...that the crew wouldn't be able to manage without him so good if the silver fox kid was out of the picture.
I kept these thoughts to myself of course, although I was sure I wasn't the only one who felt that way. But until I could be certain about which of the other Enforcers were on the same wavelength as me, I knew I'd better keep my fox-trap tightly shut.
It didn't take nearly as long as I expected. When the meeting broke up, I found that I needed to use the head. The regular toilets were still out of commission, so they'd set up Port-a-Johns in the yard. When I came out again after doing my business, I found Scorp waiting for me, standing with his arms folded.
"You got a minute?"
He took me over by the basketball court-which no longer had baskets, or even poles-and looked me square in the eye. "Straight up, Z...what'd you think of what Wez said, back there?"
I crossed my fingers, took a deep breath, and told him-straight up.
His shoulders fell, and HE let out a breath.
"I was hopin' you'd say that, fox."
It was a good start, but it didn't go much further. The only other Enforcers who agreed with us were the Mearns Brothers. Most of the rest, Krat, Jawbone, and Stuke were down 100% with Wez's idea. Hitch thought it was the greatest thing since sliced bread.
Nooo surprise there; what a grovel-head! One time, strictly as a joke, Wez asked for a volunteer to go spit in Lurch's face...and guess whose paw went shooting up like a signal flare?
Stoney, on the other paw...we couldn't be sure about him. But then, nobody ever knew what that red 'roo was thinking. The guy was like the direct opposite of your stereotypical Aussie; he rarely, if ever, showed emotion. It was how he'd gotten his nickname, in fact.
As the days went by, and the repairs continued, one thing became obvious. The Mammal intended to go a lot further than simply bringing The Point up to pre-riot condition. The place seemed to be undergoing a complete renovation; new plumbing, new lighting, new flooring, they even put new shelves in the library-something that bugged Wez to no end, since he had to hold court elsewhere for the duration.
And this time, except for the floors, everything was in steel; steel sinks in the washrooms, steel toilets in the head, steel tables in the mess hall, you name it. And all of it welded together; there was nothing you could loosen with a wrench or a screwdriver. I had to move in with Scorp for a couple of days while they got my cell fixed up again.
During my stay, me and that honey-badger made a pact, later bringing the Mearns brothers into it. Any and all misgivings about Wez's new mindset were to be kept strictly to ourselves. We would never so much as mention the subject, not to any of the others, not even among ourselves-and especially not in Hitch's presence. And it wasn't just because that panther kid was turning into the crew's number one brown noser.
You see, when we'd taken down Eddie Derzala, he'd been relegated to the role of lookout. It hadn't been coz I didn't trust the guy; I simply didn't know him-and when you're dealing with a dude like Eddie D, you can't afford to take chances. Anyway, Hitch had seemed to accept it well enough at the time-but lately, he'd been acting more and more resentful of me; like he thought that HE should have been made the The Enforcers' Number 2 mammal.
Yeah, right...if that Furrida Panther dude thought sucking up to Wez McCrodon was a good way to get promoted, he was in for a way-big surprise. Wez may have had a humongous ego, but he also had his limits. Sooner or later, all that tail kissing was going to start grating on his nerves.
In the meantime, Scorp and I-and the Mearnses-continued to keep a low profile. We deferred to our crew-chief at every turn, and never questioned his orders...but without all of Hitch's bowing and scraping.
That turned out to be easier than we anticipated. Against all of my expectations-but much to my relief-Wez didn't throw down the gauntlet to The Mammal a second time. The following day, when Lurch gave us the job of helping to pass out the cleaning implements, he was almost eager to comply with the order.
"We may own it," he explained to me later, with a wink. "But that don't mean The Mammal can't take it back if we push him too far."
Hmmmm, maybe I had misjudged that sea-mink...or maybe I hadn't. Tomorrow morning, his 'tude might be totally different. In any case, I continued to treat him with respect. For all his efforts to hide it, I could tell that he still harbored some bitterness over my handling of Eddie D. Eventually, I knew, he'd get over it. But until he did, I needed to play it cool.
That was especially true in light of the fact that a lot of the other kids were none too thrilled about The Enforcers being excused from clean-up duty. Wez's attitude about it could be summed up in two words, 'Tuff Darts!'
And in this case, I agreed with him. Why should WE have to clean up the mess they had made while we'd been locked down in The Hole. Besides that, whatever I might have thought fursonally, I understood that The Enforcers needed to keep a united front, in the face of all that low-grade hostility.
Now...getting back to something I said earlier. Granite Point was a juvenile facility, and so it had no actual industry to speak of-child labor laws, and whatever. However, that didn't prevent the kids from running a few UN-official businesses-like, for example, a full-time rumor mill. And now a new story began to spread through the halls; one that I thought might be accurate for a change. As soon as the renovations were complete, another inspection was in the offing. And this time, it wasn't going to be any hack-bureaucrats checking us out; the big guns were coming, maybe even the Governor. For sure the head of Zoo Jersey Corrections would be putting in an appearance. In any case, if and when that happened, it would once again be The Enforcers' job to make sure the other kids kept their mouths shut.
"And if it's really the bigwigs coming," Wez reminded us, at a meeting we held in the washroom, "it's gonna be that much tougher than usual to keep the lid on,"
Nah, the library was still out of commission, Erin...it was fairly low on The Mammal's to do list. But anyway, Wez had the right idea; the presence of a mammal with real clout might be too much temptation for some kid to resist spilling the beans. Heck, I was feeling a little tempted myself; I knew I wouldn't act on it, but I couldn't help thinking about it.
That reminded me of something and I raised my paw. "It's not just the detainees they need to worry about giving the game away." That earned me several curious looks, and I hurried to explain. "I mean...we all know more'n few of the guards are looking to lose their jobs coz of that riot. Wanna bet they won't be tempted to blow the whistle...as payback for getting canned?"
Wez just shrugged. "That's The Mammal's problem," he said, but then nodded and cocked a finger at me. "He's right though, guys. And, that's how we'll know when the inspection's about to go down-when those jerks start getting the boot."
He didn't explain, and he didn't need to. We all got it, even Hitch. It was a slam dunk that when the big shots came to call, AKER wouldn't want any possible stoolies hanging around.
And sure enough; even as the work-crews were packing up and preparing to haul tail, the first heads began to roll.
It started all the way at the top. with Warden Argyll...who I later heard, broke down and bleated like a lamb when he got the news. To no one's surprise, Captain Corker kept his position; he'd been sunning himself on the beach in Cancoon when the riot took place. His Lieutenant, a lion named Neame, got demoted down to sergeant, and resigned rather than accept the reduction in rank. Everyone else held accountable for the riot was straight up terminated. As for Lurch, just like I'd figured, he ended up being promoted...to Neame's position.
No, that was actually good news. In Granite point, the lieutenant's job was mostly administrative-not a whole lot of contact with the detainees. It was the sergeants who did most of the paws-on work.
And that was the bad news. Guess who got promoted to Lurch's job? None other than good ol' Blackbird Ravenclaw. When Slice and Dice Mearns heard the news, they screamed louder than when I'd been working them over in the gym-and I felt a little like screaming myself. WHY hadn't I kept my fox-trap shut on the ride back to Granite Point?
Then something inside me told me to cool my jets. I took two deep breaths and let them out, slowly.
"Yeah, I know," I said, "But it is what it is, guys. Anyway, Blackbird won't try anything until after the inspection is over. We got that much in our favor at least. In the meantime, I'll go talk to Wez, see if he has any ideas." That was only partially true; what I was really hoping was that he might have some dirt on that puma-jerk. It was a long shot, but worth a try.
Well, if he did, he never said-I wouldn't have either-but he did promise to 'see what I can do.'
Oh, well...at least he didn't ask me what the heck I expected HIM to do about it; his standard response when someone brought him a problem he either didn't care about or couldn't solve.
As the day of the inspection drew near, it became a fact rather than a rumor. The big boys were coming, no question about it. At any given moment you could hear the guards talking about it and making no effort to keep their conversations a secret. Any new officers reporting for duty- and there were a lot of them-were quickly filled in by the veterans on how to behave during the visit.
In the meantime, The Point once again became a flurry of activity; new books for the library, fresh food in the pantry, and more soap for the washrooms. The detainees were issued new blankets and bedding, and two new pairs of coveralls.
...Except for The Enforcers; we got three of 'em...in blue, rather than khaki, and with a big, white letter 'T' on the back. Nobody could figure out what the heck it stood for until Blackbird called us together in the chapel-yeah, the chapel; I know, right? He had his claws bared as he gave us the news; for the duration of the inspection tour, we were to refer to ourselves as Trustees. "If I hear the word 'Enforcer', even once, coming from any of you punks..." to emphasize the point, he drew a finger across his throat.
All the while, I was stealing sideways glances at Slice and Dice Mearns, and chanting a silent meme. "Please-don't-say-it, Please-don't-say-it, Please-don't-say-it, Please-don't-say-it..."
They said it.
"Trustee? We thought it stood for Tarantula-Killer."
Lucky for those grasshopper mice, Wez McCrodon was there. Before Blackbird had time to recover from his shock, he got quickly in front of them.
"Easy, Mr. Ravenclaw...let me take care of it."
Blackbird grabbed his stick and showed his fangs, "Get out of the way, punk."
Wez stayed where he was, lacing his arms and planting his feet
"I-I-I wouldn't do that sir. How are the Trustees s'posed to keep things quiet during the inspection if I'm out of action?" He waved a paw at the Mearnses and then at me. And now his voice took on a slight edge. "Matter of fact, I dunno how we're gonna manage without ALL my guys available."
After some hesitation, Ravenclaw put the stick away, but his gaze never wavered. "Enjoy it while you can, smart guy," he snarled, and then he turned and stalked out though the door, slamming it behind him.
The second he was gone, Slice and Dice were rolling on their backs, laughing their tails off...until Wez stomped his foot so hard, it jolted them into the air by a good three inches.
"You think that was funny, you little morons...HUH?" He turned and looked at me, cocking thumb in their direction. "I got things to do, Z. You explain it to 'em." And then he was the one making an angry exit.
Aggghhh, grrrr...he'd been doing more and more of that lately, leaving me to handle whichever dirty job came up. This time, though, I wasn't especially torqued-because I wasn't any happier with those grasshopper mice than he had been.
"Need a few alone here, guys," I said, speaking to the others. I waited until the chapel was clear, and then sat down facing the Mearns brothers over the back of a pew. I didn't raise my voice, but kept it VERY even.
"What the fox is the matter with you two?" I said, shaking my head, and putting on my best look of disappointment. "Did you forget already that puma jerk's our new sergeant?"
Apparently, they had forgotten. After exchanging a nervous glance with his brother, Slice looked up at me with his paws clasped. "We're sorry, Z."
"What my bro' said," Dice added quickly.
"Accepted," I said, leaning over them, the better to make eye contact, "But there's something else you gotta think about, guys. Wez had to put the shake on to get Blackbird to back off on you. He can only do that so many times and get away with it; I think even HE knows it now."
"Really?" Dice was looking at me with his whiskers twitching. I could guess what he was thinking.
"Yeah, I remember what he said that first time, too...but trust me, I know the guy. Now that he's had some space to think things over, I'm guessing he understands that he's gonna have to be really careful about playing the power card." That was half-wishful thinking on my part; Wez would do that today, but tomorrow, who knew? In any event, the Mearns brothers got the message. That was the last time they ever taunted Blackbird about his dear, departed Boris, the Tarantula.
The day of The Inspection dawned warm and hazy, a little humid, but nothing we couldn't handle. For breakfast that morning we had French Toast...the prefab, frozen kind, heated up in a microwave...but still the first I'd had since leaving Danbeary. As before, The Mammal was keeping us well fed in anticipation of the coming assessment.
After we ate, we were crowded into the showers and then ordered to put on our cleanest pair of coveralls. Afterwards, we were marched out into the yard to await the arrival of our visitors.
It was there that something kind of odd took place. Instead of having us assemble in rows-as we had for the previous inspection-we were ordered to line up around the yard's perimeter.
Or rather, the other kids were. The Enforcers...excuse me, the Trustees were told to assemble in front of where the officers and staff were waiting. Just my luck, I happened to draw the spot right in front of Blackbird-who kept 'accidentally' poking me in the back of the head with his knee, until Lurch told him to cut it out.
Sheesh, I never thought I'd be grateful for that guy's intervention.
After maybe an hour, the morning haze had burned off, and everyone was getting a little fidgety, including the guards.
That was when I heard it...a faint, steady, whirling thump, coming our way from somewhere to the northeast.
Someone nudged me in the ribs. I thought at first it was Blackbird again, but it was actually Wez McCrodon.
"Z...what?" he whispered, speaking out the side of his mouth. Oops, he must have noticed that my ears were standing up.
"Helicopter...headed our way from somewhere upstate." I whispered back, not looking at him. The next thing I said was, "Huh...what's so funny?" I couldn't see him, but I could feel him shaking, the way he always did, when trying not to laugh.
"Well, at least now we know the Governor's not gonna show," he snickered, and now I wanted to laugh too. Zoo Jersey's Guv at the time was an elephant, and a heavyweight even for that species; it was a cinch that he wouldn't be coming by helicopter.
Then Blackbird growled under his breath. "Shut up...both of you."
We immediately zipped our mouths.
The helicopter appeared first as nothing more than a flyspeck in the sky. As it came closer, more and more ears pricked up, when they caught the sound of its rotors. That wasn't too difficult, because when the chopper finally came into full view, it turned out to have two of them.
From behind me, I heard Lurch let out a low whistle. "Melt my stinkin' glacier...a HOOK!" ...military slang for a Ch47 Chinchook, I later learned.
It was done up in dark blue with red and white trim. And as it circled over us, I saw the AKER logo, proudly emblazoned on the side. That prompted another comment from the polar bear behind me. "Whoa, who the heck uses one of those babies for an executive chopper?"
Myself, I was thinking maybe Wez had gotten it wrong; maybe the governor was on board. That bird was Gi-NORM-ous, big enough to carry a half-dozen elephants.
They touched down in the center of the yard, blowing dust all over everywhere, and halfway undoing the showers we'd all just taken. They also landed with the tail end facing in the guards/staff/trustees' direction. For some reason, I found that even more insulting than the dust bath.
I shouldn't have; that was simply the direction in which the access ramp opened-something didn't happen for several minutes, not until the rotors stopped turning.
The first guys off were a quartet of wolverines, all of them dressed like extras from a spy-thriller flick; plain, dark suits, darker sunglasses, and a coil of wire pegged in one ear. No weapons were visible that I could see, but somehow, I knew that they were carrying. And that brought on a majorly awkward question; why did those dudes need any kind of firepower? Nobody here was gonna mess with THEM, Armed or not, they were one seriously tough-looking bunch.
Taking up a position on either side of the ramp, they waited for the others to disembark.
"Geez," I heard someone behind me growl, echoing my sentiments, "What, are they expecting a terrorist attack or something?"
The next animal down the ramp was a gnu that I didn't recognize. I wondered who the heck he was, and why was he one of the first animals off the helicopter? No kidding, the guy had 'stooge' written all over him. Then, I noticed he had something cupped in his paws. Peering closer, I saw that it was a ground-squirrel. At the same time, I heard Wez, whispering the answer to my unspoken question. "Ada Duggan, the Lieutenant Governor."
She was followed by a wolf in a blue-serge uniform, Lucas Growlen, head of the Zoo Jersey State PD. Behind him came a pig named Cecil Barnes, head of the ZJ Department of Corrections-which I later learned was a mostly ceremonial post. It was the animal who came off next that had the real clout; Stan Curlewski, a bighorn sheep, the head of AKER Correctional Management's Zoo Jersey Operations. Following him was a kudu I didn't know, but with whom I was soon to become very familiar; John Thorney, The Point's new Superintendent.
Uhhh, lemme put it this way, Erin... ♪ "Meet the new boss; same as the old boss." ♫ You follow what I'm bringing out?
Right...exactly.
I really don't remember who was in the rest of the group-except for the last two animals down that ramp. They were the ones that really caught my attention. Mine...and everyone else's.
The first was another wolverine. He was dressed pretty much the same as those first four guys, except for no earpiece-but he scared the livin' snot out of me.
Even now, I have no idea why; he wasn't any bigger than those other wolverines. In fact, he was a little shorter than that third guy. He was maybe a mite better built than any of them, but I swear-I don't think Lurch and Blackbird together could have taken that dude. Maybe it was his face; for lack of emotion, he made Stoney look like your average drama queen. But the thing I remember most about him was his paw...his right paw; it was dirty-white in color, and looked totally unnatural.
But that was nothing compared to the last animal to exit the helicopter.
He was a rabbit-and clearly the dude in charge; you could tell by the way he carried himself, a mammal with a purpose. He was the only one wearing a double-breasted suit and the only guy with mirrored sunglasses. But the thing that just blew me away was...he was the biggest dang rabbit I've ever seen, a stinking giant, bigger than a full-grown coyote.
No, Mr. Rodenberg, I'm totally serious over here. Tell him, Erin...you saw the guy at the Carrot Days festival. Tell him I'm not exaggerating.
There...you see...? I...What? A hero? A HERO! Are you outta your cute little mind, Snowdrop? Yeah, I know he saved your kid niece, Cotton when your uncle Terry went savage. But that's not all I know, lemme tell you. If that big jerk's a hero, I'M the Queen of Corona.
Huh...what you mean, how come I'm not down at the schoolyard with Julio? Oh, nyuck, nyuck, nyuck...really funny, dumb bunny! And you're not helping by laughing, Ratso!
Wait, wait...please don't...
Okay, yeah...I'm sorry, that was out of line. Yes, yes, I take it back...yes, Erin, all of it.
But listen to me here, okay? I know what I'm talking about. I've seen memos, e-mails, company records, videos, all kinds of stuff that's supposed to be confidential. And I also saw what went down at Finagles, during that so-called police-raid. Forget what you think you know about Jack La Peigne bunny-girl, just forget it. He's not who he appears to be! And I won't take that back even if you BOTH walk out on me.
Oh, and don't forget something else...don't forget who it was that provoked Craig Guilford's dad into trying to dump that load of defoliant on the Big Dance-and who it was that tricked him into bringing his plane in over Nick's rocket barrage. Sorry, but I had to say it.
Yes, Mr. Rodenberg, it's true...I'll tell you about it some other time, but right now...where was I?
Ohhhh, yeah...the first and only time I ever met that king-size bunny, face to face.
It happened after the introductions with The Point staff, the ones who kept their jobs, I mean; he mostly ignored the newbies. After that was done, Acting Superintendent Corker was formally relieved of his duties by the new Warden, Mr. Thorney.
Next, came a little awards ceremony in which Jack La Peigne pinned a citation on Lurch and shook his paw. To hear him talk, you'd have thought that polar bear had won the Super Bowl, single-pawed or something; there was no mention at all of the riot. When Blackbird also got cited, sheesh...you never heard so many kids trying not to groan. Yeah, he'd managed to escape after being held hostage, but he'd never have been taken in the first place if not for his own stupidity. Or...that was what I'd been told anyway.
As for me, I was taking note of something-that puma was like a total sucker for flattery. All during the ceremony, he kept shuffling one foot, and the look on his face was like, "Who, me? Aw shucks." I wasn't dumb enough to think that praise from a detainee would have the same effect as getting stroked by a superior. But I made a mental note, all the same.
Meanwhile, La Peigne and the other bigwigs were chatting with some of the other guards. I paid little to zero attention; it was all strictly small talk.
But then that big bunny pulled a major surprise by strolling down the ranks of The Trustees. When he got to Wez McCrodon, he moved on without even looking at him. I swear, he seemed to be making a conscious effort to ignore that sea-mink...like he couldn't stand him or something. And the feeling was mutual, lemme tell you. The second that big bunny's back was turned, hoo-boy! If looks could kill, Crazy Wez would be doing life without parole right now.
But my biggest surprise of the morning was when that Le Peigne dude came to me...and stopped to talk. "Hello there son, what's your name?" He was trying to sound friendly, but I could feel my skin crawling. By then I had learned to tell the difference between when someone was showing real sympathy for my busted face-and when they were only faking it. This guy clearly fell into category number two.
And another thing...I was sure that he already knew the answer to his question. Ahh, I had never felt more tempted to blurt out my real name. If I could've remembered it right then, I'm pretty sure I would have.
"Alan Murphy, sir," I said, hoping like heck he wouldn't ask me what I was in for. No way could I have resisted giving an honest answer to THAT one.
He didn't, he got down on one knee and put paw on my shoulder. If it hadn't been for that white-pawed wolverine giving me the eye, I would have been sorely tempted to sink my fangs into it.
Even without that guy around, I couldn't have gone through with it, though. La Peigne had taken off his mirrored shades and now his eyes were level with mine-and they seemed to be boring right into my soul.
"How are you doing?" he asked me, "Are they treating you well here? Tell the truth." The way he said it, I knew the truth was the last thing he wanted to hear. Whoa, no wonder Wez hated this jerk.
"As well as can be expected sir, no complaints." I answered, blandly.
"Good, good, I'm glad to hear it." He said, standing up again. "If there's anything you need, if you have any problems, just mention my name. I'm Jack La Peigne, head of The AKER Group, the company that oversees this facility."
Yeah ri-i-i-ight, the next time I mentioned this guy's name I'd be throwing in a few colorful adjectives and spitting on the ground. Still...I couldn't help feeling a little apprehensive. Out of all kids in The Point, why had he taken an interest in me?
All right, yes, you got me there, bunny-girl. No, he hadn't done anything to antagonize me; my negative feelings towards him were kind of irrational. But, knowing what I know now, I'd say they were more like something clairvoyant.
Anyway, the next thing he said was addressed to the En...to the Trustees as a whole.
"I'm aware of what happened to you boys...and also what happened because of it. And, I promise you now, there will be no such further occurrences at this facility-not if I have anything to say about it."
Hol-lee, how canned and generic can you get? In the entire course of that little speech, he had never once spoken the words, riot, isolation, or even Granite Point.
Ahhhh, I'll skip to the end here. After the gathering on the yard broke up, the kids went off to do whatever, while the bigwigs went off on their inspection tour, with Blackbird as the guide. And that was my cue to button-hole Crazy Wez.
Well...I wasn't sure how he might feel about all the attention I'd gotten from big-bunny La Peigne-and I wanted to head-off any trouble that might be brewing because of it.
Worry-wart me, it wasn't necessary. Before I could manage even a single word, Wez was grinning and slapping me on the shoulder.
"Whoa, Z...for a second there, I thought you were gonna bite that jerk." Aggggh, ggrrr, was it THAT obvious?
"You have no idea," I answered, shaking my head in disgust. "If it hadn't been for that wolverine standing behind him..."
"Yeah, tell me about it," he nodded, trying not to grimace, "That's one animal you NEVER want to mess with, fox. His name's Whitepaugh, Seth Whitepaugh; La Peigne's number one enforcer, field-guy, and what have you."
Huh, how did he know that, I wondered? I wasn't going to ask, and I wouldn't have had time anyway.
"Okay listen up," he said, waving the other guys over. "We got work to do here. Stuke? You, Jawbone, Slice, and Dice go spread the word; nobody talks to that big bunny unless he speaks to them first...and also that goes for the other mammals in his group. Tell 'em, if anyone gets asked a question, like Z here-the answer had better be something like, 'I love this place.' Otherwise, somebody's gonna need a wheelchair and a respirator. Okay ...Krat? I want you, Stoney, and Scorp with me in the library. We're gonna hang there and be ready to move, if anyone turns out to be stupid enough to get talkative with the big boys. Finally...Z? You think you can track that big rabbit without being spotted?"
Ohhhhh, foxtrot...I knew that tone of voice. I could either answer yes...or I could answer in the affirmative. That wasn't a request he'd just made; it was a direct order with a question-mark.
Noooo, Wez wasn't acting out of spite...not this time, at least. Like it or not, I was the best animal for that job, and both of us knew it. Not only was I The Enforcer's resident shadow, La Peigne had made it even easier for me back there. When he'd put his paw on my shoulder, I'd been able to get a real good imprint on his scent...and not only on him, on his wolverine, too. While that Whitepaugh dude hadn't gotten nearly as close to me as his boss, he'd been standing upwind the whole time we'd been talking-and they don't call that species skunk-bears coz the name sounds cool. Between the two of them, I'd have no trouble keeping up with the tour-group and I said as much to Crazy Wez.
"Good," he nodded, "Take Hitch with you and follow those guys as close as you can without them noticing you. Make sure none of the other kids try to talk to them, especially not to that big bunny.
Ohhhh, wonderful; now I was unhappy. If there was one guy in The Enforcers that I did NOT want to be paired with, it was that Furrida panther kid. Like I said before, he'd been none too happy with my elevation to second in command of The Enforcers. And since then, our relationship had been growing more and more strained, thanks in part to Crazy Wez. Remember that time he had me chew out the Mearns Brothers? Yeah, well that was only one of many such instances. Later, he explained it to me. "In any outfit, Z, it's always the number two guy that deals out the discipline."
Yeah, I know Mr. Rodenberg, except...I knew for a fact, he'd never once given that job to Cutty; the whole thing was a crock. In any case, Hitch took every dressing down I gave him fursonally. Even if he was right there, and heard Wez give me the order to read him the riot act, he always acted like I was getting on his case, just to be a jerk.
And since that panther kid wasn't the brightest bulb on the board, that happened a lot more often than either one of us would have liked.
Right then though, there was no point in arguing...and also no time. If we wanted to catch up with La Peigne and Company, we needed to get moving like five minutes ago.
Luckily for us, keeping track of them turned out to be easier than I expected. First of all, right away it became obvious that this inspection was following almost the exact same routine as the last one. Once I realized that, Hitch and I were able to make detours around those VIAs and catch up with them at their next stop.
Another thing in our favor was something that wasn't the same as last time. Back then, after the initial assembly, Warden Argyll had ordered the detainees confined to their cells for the duration. This time, they were free to roam around as they saw fit. Don't ask me the reason for that change in routine, but it gave us all kinds of other kids to use as cover.
Of course...it also increased the likelihood of somebody trying to blow the whistle, but that was the situation, and all we could do was deal with it.
I gotta admit, though...Hitch did great at not being made by the animals we were shadowing. Being a feline, he was naturally stealthy to begin with...and a heckuva lot of those car thefts he'd committed had involved tailing a guy without being noticed. No kidding, if anyone in that tour group even started to look in his direction, he was out of sight so fast, it was almost like a magic trick.
And, of course, we did our best to stay downwind of that group, no mean feat in a place like The Point.
One more thing in our favor was that La Peigne kept interrupting the inspection, either to take or make calls on his cell phone. Not only that; he seemed to be having all kinds of trouble with that bad boy. Whatever the case, every time it happened, it gave Hitch and me the perfect opportunity to make another end run.
The inspection tour started in the galley, same as the one before. I remember watching that Barnes guy put on a pair of white gloves and run a finger all over everything. "See, look...I'm important!" He seemed to be saying. Jack La Peigne looked like he wanted to feed that idiot to his pet wolverine-and the others were none too happy with him either. That was when I knew for certain something I'd been suspecting all along. This whole thing was whitewash-a 'three monkeys' inspection.
Yeah, yeah Erin...I know. Monkeys are a mythical creature. What I mean is, like... that little desktop statue-thingy, you've seen it. 'See No Evil, Hear No Evil, Speak No Evil,' you follow what I'm bringing out? Someone could have set off a bomb in the captain's office and The Point would have gotten a passing grade.
From the galley, they moved on to the shower rooms and the gym, the latter of which was seriously crowded, now that it contained some genuine workout equipment. Second-paw stuff to be sure, but still...the real deal, instead of home-made and improvised.
I remember that the tour-group walked in just as Capper Lee was getting up from the weight bench...and that La Peigne's ears went shooting up when he saw.
"Think I can get in a few reps?" he asked, speaking to no one in particular. And then, without waiting for an answer, he turned to the wolverine standing next to him. "Spot me, Whitepaugh?"
They both lost their jackets and loosened their ties.
Laying down on the bench, La Peigne waited while his aide lowered the bar to the correct height. "Okay-y-y...give me 350 pounds to start off with."
He was answered by gasps and an uncomfortable silence. Finally, Blackbird cleared his throat. "Ummm...w-we don't have that many weights here, sir. We might be able to manage 300 lbs, but..."
"All right, 300 then." The big bunny cut him off, breezily...and now everyone was looking at him like, 'You have GOT to be kidding!'
And with good reason; that much weight would have been impressive, even for an apex pred. For a rabbit, even one as big as this, it was unheard of. What was even more mind blowing was...
Even now, I can hardly believe it, but La Peigne managed ten full reps on those weights-and made it look so easy that I almost had to question if they were real, or nerf-rubber fakes? In any case, he left one serious impression-with all of us. Hitch looked like he wanted to bolt out the door and just keep on running. I wondered then, and I'm still wondering now if that hadn't been the reason for his little display. When he put on his jacket again, he made a point of trying to talk chummy with some of the detainees. Their responses were friendly enough, but a half blind idiot could have seen that their words were forced.
That wasn't such a bad thing, actually...not for me and Hitch anyway. It meant that none of the kids La Peigne was talking to were about to reveal any secrets. Even without the fear of retribution from The Enforcers, they weren't gonna talk out of turn to this animal. By now, the fact that this was a bogus inspection had become obvious to almost everyone-and I had the distinct impression, that was exactly how the big bunny wanted it.
I mean, no way could he have missed what was going on behind all the smiles he was getting; you don't go as far in life as he did by being clueless. The only reason it wasn't showing was because he had other problems right then-specifically with that cell-phone. No sooner did he get his tie fixed, than two more calls came in. The first one got dropped as soon as it connected, and for the second one, he had to clamp a paw over one of his ear canals in order to hear-and he was a bunny, don't forget, so he had to be getting some seriously bad recep....
Oh, for crying out loud, Snowdrop...that wasn't meant as an insult. Do rabbits, or do they not have super-good hearing? Fine, yeah...so lighten up already, willya?
But anyway...soon as that second call ended, La Peigne borrowed his wolverine-guy's cell to make another one, telling whoever was on the other end to, "Route all my incoming calls to this phone." By now the other animals in the tour group were starting to get annoyed at all the disruptions. None of them said anything, but I noticed several of them looking at their watches.
Their next stop was the library, now fully stocked; still no magazines, but plenty of books. This time, I waited next to the door instead of following the inspection group inside. No need to get that close when I knew Wez, Krat, Stoney, and Scorp were in there already. Just before the door closed, I managed to flash them a thumbs-up sign, letting them know, so far, so good. No one had tried to talk to these animals or slip them a note. I was about 99% certain by then that it wasn't going to happen, but I couldn't afford to take chances, just the same.
From there, the bigwigs were headed to a place where I really didn't care to follow them-the laundry room. Ohhhh, foxtrot! What if I had a flashback when I got there? If it had been anybody but Hitch with me, I would have shined it on, except...I could easily imagine that panther kid telling Wez that I'd turned chicken-and loving every second of it. Nope...there was no getting off of this roller coaster.
But when we got to the laundry-works and I peeked around the corner, I was surprised to discover that I needn't have fretted. Whoops, nobody here but us tourists, which meant nobody could blow the whistle, even if they wanted to. Not only that; as with everywhere else in The Point, the laundry had undergone some serious renovations since the riot. The place was almost completely unrecognizable. Nope...no memories here fox-kid...you're not getting triggered today.
The same, however, could not be said, for a certain, king-size rabbit. From around the corner, I heard his cell phone ring. And this is the conversation that followed.
"La Peigne speak... Hello? Hello! Can you hear...? Oh, for the love of...I thought I told them to route my calls to that other...! Will somebody please get rid of this piece of junk?"
"I've got it, sir." It sounded like that pig guy, Barnes, and it was followed by the sound of something clattering into the distance, on a downward course.
The next thing I heard was silence, the kind that says...uh-oh, somebody's in a world of trouble.
It was Barnes that finally broke it-in a voice like a bowl of Jell-o. "Wha...wh-what...i-is something wrong?"
And THAT was when Jack La Peigne dropped the Mr. Nice-Bunny act. "Yes, there's something wrong, I've got a brain-dead MORON playing up to me!"
"S-Sir, I don't..."
"YOU TOAD-HEADED IMBECILE! YOU SHOULD HAVE BROKEN THAT PHONE BEFORE YOU TOSSED IT!"
Whoa, maybe I should have stayed the heck away from here.
But then I heard Blackbird speak up, in a voice that was almost mewling. "No worries, Mr. La Peigne. That chute goes straight down to the trash compactor. One push of a button and that cell-phone's terminated."
Sheesh. and I thought that pig-dude was a groveler. Whatever...Big Boss Bunny was nowhere close to satisfied.
"Fine, then push it already!"
"Uh, sir, it's not in here, it's down in..."
"Then get down there and take CARE of it...before I take back your stripes!"
"Y-Yes sir."
Uh-oh...I heard footsteps coming towards us and moving fast. Too late to duck out of the way, all Hitch and I could do was flatten ourselves against the wall and hope for the best.
Heh...Blackbird never so much as glanced in our direction; it was like we weren't even there. From around the corner, I could hear La Peigne groaning, "I'm surrounded by idiots!"
The next thing I heard was more footsteps...moving slowly this time, and also receding. When I chanced another look, it was just in time to see the bigwigs exiting the laundry
That was when my eyes fell on the garbage chute.
Yes, Mr. Rodenberg, that's exactly what I was thinking...and don't start. If I had to do it all over again, I'd do the exact same thing-and I wouldn't hesitate, any more than I did the first time.
Rapping Hitch on the arm, I told him, "Stay with the tour-group, I'm going for that phone."
He shied back as if I'd just turned into a giant vacuum cleaner. "Y-You're WHAT? You crazy idjit, you can't..."
That was as far as he got before I dived through the door of the waste-disposal chute.
What was I thin...? I WASN'T thinking Erin...that was the whole point. I had no idea how long that shaft was or how sheer the drop. And since that thing was such an obvious escape route, The Mammal would for sure have taken some precautions, right? And that wasn't even mentioning the big one...that I might end up as a silver-fox mud-flap for the effort.
But there was one thing I did know; by going this way, I could beat Blackbird to the trash compactor by a good five minutes-even if he ran on all fours and at full tilt.
...if I didn't get stuck, that is-or if a zillion other things didn't happen that probably would.