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—A Zootopia Fanfiction
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Part One:
Fuel
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Chapter 7—Tying Up Loose Ends
(Pt. 5...Continued)
"Dangit, where the hack ARE they? Chief Bogo would have had back-up here 30 minutes ago!"
Judy began to thump her foot and for once Nick didn't tell her to cool it; he felt almost exactly the same way. While his partner was certainly exaggerating, (she had called for assistance exactly 35 minutes ago,) there was no denying that she was essentially correct. Maybe Precinct One wouldn't have had more officers here within 5...but they certainly would have had them here by now.
In the meantime, there had been no sign of activity from the property next door; the place was as dead as the proverbial doornail. Just the same, Judy Hopps had not the slightest doubt in her mind. Craig Guilford and his girlfriend Amanda were still holed up in that bunker on the other side of the hedge.
And yet...and yet...
Why were they still in there? Why had they not come out yet? According to Nick Wilde's calculations—with which she agreed wholeheartedly—the young coyote and vixen should have run out of provisions hours ago. Why hadn't they left on a supply run, at least? What were they waiting for?
She sipped at the coffee Mary Pye had brought (much better than the brew from the store up the road,) and furrowed her brow, as if trying to make the local cops move faster through sheer force of will. Okay, yes...Meadowland was the most sprawling of all the Zootopia ecosystems, and yes, it had even fewer roads per square mile than Sahara Square. But dangit, so did Bunnyburrow, and the Burrow County Sheriff's Office would have back-up here by now, too.
"Okay, the heck with this," Judy told herself, setting her cup down firmly on the table and trying to come to a decision. She'd get nowhere fast by just sitting here and fuming. For a moment, she considered calling Precinct One and seeing if Chief Bogo could 'persuade' the Meadowlands officers to get a move on. That idea was good for about three seconds before she dropped it. Even if it worked, there'd be a price to pay later on. Nobody enjoys having a co-worker go over their head and police officers like it less than most.
And anyway what was the point? The only way in or out of that guest bunker was either A, by setting off the hangar alarm or B, by way of the front door—and she and her partner could keep that covered without even leaving the Pye's kitchen; the wind outside had kicked up to a stiff breeze in the last half hour. If either of the two young fugitives so much as opened the door to their hidey-hole a crack, Nick's nose would alert him in an instant.
No, galling as it was, their best course of action right now was just to sit tight and wait for reinforcements, Even if Craig and Amanda did try to make a run for it, Judy was certain that she and Nick could keep them boxed in until the cavalry showed up.
"Need a refill there?" Mr. Pye asked, nodding at Judy's nearly empty coffee-mug.
"No thanks, I'm good," she answered covering it with her paw. It really was excellent coffee, but the last thing she wanted right now was the crying need for a pee-break.
Since making the call to Meadowlands precinct, she and Nick had gotten to know a little bit about their hosts. Unlike his neighbor to the left, Charlie Pye was strictly a pleasure pilot. He hailed originally from Bullbuquerque Zoo Mexico, where he'd run a pest-control business for thirty years, eventually selling out and retiring to the Meadowlands. It was a subject that Judy Hopps found tedious but not distracting; rather like the background music in a shopping mall. And so she was content to let the spotted skunk drone on. (Besides, Nick seemed to find his reminiscences at least mildly interesting.)
At the moment, he was saying, "Mind you, I can still handle that helicopter, but..."
"Autogyro," his wife corrected, looking up from her Zoodoku puzzle.
"Helicopter," Charlie repeated, overruling her for the second time that morning, "If that's how the fool government's going to treat my aircraft, then by thunder, that's what I'll call it, too."
"Yes, dear," his wife answered wearily, in yet another quirky role reversal.
"Wait, what?" Nick's ears were working and his head was tilted, "Charlie, what are you talking about?"
It was Mrs. Pye who answered him
"Oh the ZAA passed a rule this year, said from now on, you need to have a rotary-wing license if you want to fly an autogyro. There was some kind of accident, last summer I think, and everyone just went crazy... 'Pass a law, that'll fix it.' You know how these things go."
"Ummm, do you know what an autogyro is, Officer Wilde?" her husband queried. The uncertain tone of his voice suggested that most animals had no idea of what that was, at least not the ones he'd met.
Nick Wilde, however, was not part of that group.
"Yes, it's like an airplane with helicopter blades, except the blades aren't powered; it's the air pressure makes them spin."
"Not quite but close enough." The spotted skunk nodded and raised his coffee mug in salutation. The logo on the side read, 'ExTerminator Pest Control' and beneath that, the slogan, 'They WON'T Be Back.' He took a sip, adding, "Anyways, I'm hanged if I'm going to plunk down another $175.00 for a rotary-wing license and then have to take another exam; not on an aircraft I've been flying for close on six years now without a speck of trouble."
"Hang on, you need a separate license to fly a helicopter and a fixed-wing plane?" In spite of herself, Judy was beginning to take an interest in the subject.
"Heck, that's nothing, Officer Hopps," Charlie told her. He set down his cup and started ticking off points on his fingers. You need to have different licenses to fly a single engine plane, a twin engine plane, a water plane..." He waved a paw at the property next door, "Heck, 'ol Jake there's a commercial airline pilot...and he still had to spring for another license to fly that old Stearmink biplane of his..."
"Wait, stop!" Judy was holding up her paws in a T-formation and her ears were on full alert. That name, it was vaguely...sweet cheez n' crackers, of course!
"A Stearmink, is that an open cockpit plane?" Her voice was airy and breathless, as if she'd just completed a three-mile run.
"Uh, yeah that's right," Charlie Pye replied, thoroughly confused by the question.
So was Nick Wilde.
"Carrots, what the heck has that got to do with...?"
She wheeled in her chair to face him
"The goggles Nick, the safety goggles. THAT'S what Craig wanted them for."
Now her partner got it...almost.
"But...he only bought one pair of..."
"For Amanda, Nick, remember? He's probably got his own goggles that he brought from home...fine for him, but too big for her."
The red fox still wasn't convinced.
"But...he can't, he's only what, sixteen...seventeen at most."
Judy was convinced, "That's old enough for pilot's license, Nick." she said, and then looked across the table for support. "Am I right, Mr. Pye?"
"Yes that's right," the old skunk answered, clutching his coffee mug in what nearly amounted to a death grip. He too had caught on to her reasoning.
"That kid comes from a family of fliers, remember?" Judy was speaking to Nick again, "And you know as well as I do that he's just desperate enough—and dumb enough—to try it."
It was the final clincher; before she had even finished talking the fox already had his cell-phone out.
"Right Carrots, you call Minks while I get hold of the Meadowlands Precinct'
"Got it," she said, needing no explanation. The biggest hitch in Craig Guilford's escape plan was that the only way inside his uncle's airplane hangar was by tripping the alarm system. Under the present circumstances, he probably considered it a chance worth taking; with a little luck, by the time John Law arrived, he and Amanda would be long gone
"Except guess what kid? We're already here!" Judy sniffed, and pulled out her cell. "Mr. Pye, do you have Mink's number?" (He had the same signs out in front of his home as his neighbor.)
"Oh, yes," the spotted skunk nodded, taking out his wallet, "Got it right...,errr mother I don't have my reading glasses, can you...?"
His words were cut off as Nick went shooting out of his chair like a jumping jack.
"What! Why the heck didn't you notify us?" He listened for a moment with a pained expression, and then his eyes rolled upwards in a look of, 'Give me strength!'
"All right, tell them to hurry; those kids may make a run for it at any second. Yes...yes, bye."
He disconnected and stowed the cell.
"Forget the call to Minks' Carrots; we've got to move ...now! Jake's Guilford's hangar alarm went off five minutes ago."
Judy's ears slammed backwards against her neck, "What?! Why didn't they...? Never mind, you're right, let's go!"
She bolted for the kitchen door with the red fox right behind her.
"Stay here and lock the door behind us," Nick called over his shoulder as he and his partner exited into the breeze and sunlight.
"And keep out of sight," Judy added, and then the two of them were running full tilt for the property line.
No time to be stealthy, the two of them scrammed straight for the hedgerow, keeping low, on all fours and diving into prone positions when they reached it. One thing in their favor was that the hedge was sky-high and nearly solid as a wall, but with just enough space underneath for a fox wriggle to through—which meant there was more than enough for a bunny.
Easing herself as far through the greenery as she dared, Judy pulled out a pair of binoculars and trained them on the door of Jake Guilford's hangar.
"So why the heck didn't Meadowlands call us right away they got the word from Minks?" she asked, keeping her eyes locked onto the hangar door as she rolled the focus knob back and forth.
Nick wasn't quite able to answer her immediately; the passage under hedge was a tighter fit for him than it was for her. It took him several extra seconds to worm his way into position, and several more to brush the twigs and debris from his face.
And then he rolled his green eyes once again.
"Whoever I talked to at the Meadowlands Precinct said they were just getting ready to notify us when I called; I don't believe it, but that's what they said."
Judy shook her head and made a sound that would have been more appropriate to a member of her partner's species than her own. She had heard many times—in the Precinct One commissary and elsewhere—that Meadowlands Station was the ZPD scrap-heap, a dumping ground for slackers and ne'er-do-wells. She had never given the rumor much credence; it was only gossip after all, but now she was beginning to revise that opinion.
"All right, you watch the front, while I try and circle around..." Her ears abruptly shot skywards. (As much has was possible in a tunnel of foliage) "Wait, you hear that?"
Nick cocked his head, then shook it, "Sorry Carrots, you know my hearing isn't as good as...wait, wait; yes I do—whoa, look there!"
Judy looked, and saw the hangar door slowly beginning to rise, folding upwards like an old-fashioned window blind. And now there came a sound that even the Pyes must have been able to hear; the swirling rumble of a radial engine coming to life. The noise brought Judy's teeth together like a vice.
"Sweet cheez n' crackers Nick, he's going to do it; that dumb coyote-kid's really going to do it!"
"Not just dumb, crazy." The red fox started to say; the next thing he said was, "Carrots WAIT!"
But Judy was already scurrying for the hangar.
There was an ancient tractor parked next to the building, and just behind it a storage-shed of approximately the same vintage. Vaulting over the hood, Judy leaped onto the tractor's spring-seat and jumped down hard, employing it as a makeshift catapult. Though composed of practically nothing but rust, the seat had plenty of oomph left in it and she propelled herself easily onto the roof of the outbuilding. Landing in a bunny-crouch, Judy leaped again, bounding up onto the roof of the hangar and dashing for the front. Down in the hangar below, she could hear the airplane's engine increasing in pitch and tempo. It wouldn't be long now, as soon as the door was all the way open...
Judy put her head down and switched on the afterburners, running, leaping, and bounding for all she was worth. With a little luck—actually, it would take more than a little—the noise of the Stearmink's engine would drown out her footfalls. If not...well, it was a chance she'd just have to take. Better that, than Craig Guilford making it out of the hangar before she could catch up with him. If that happened, there'd be no stopping his escape. As Pop-Pop had told her when she was little, "Rabbits are quick and sloths can climb...but neither one should fly."
Reaching the edge of the hangar, Judy dropped into a hunkering crouch, looking a little like a bunny-gargoyle. Now she could hear not only the roar of the engine, but also the swash of the propeller.
The propeller...
Judy gulped down a cue-ball; she'd have to time this just right, otherwise she'd be rabbit-chops. AND, she was only just now starting to realize, she would have to make the jump backwards; otherwise, when she landed, she'd be facing the wrong way.
No, this was too risky even for her. It was best just to let it go; no one would blame her for the kid getting away. If the Meadowland's cops had shown up when they were supposed to...
She tensed and began to back away from the door ...but then she saw movement underneath the edge.
Nick Wilde saw it too, a biplane the color of pomegranate juice, emerging from the hangar and onto the concrete apron. He already had his dart-gun out, but knew it was a hopeless gesture; the prop wash would bat his shot away before it got within ten feet of its target.
And speaking of that target, there he was in the plane's front cockpit—Craig Guilford, in all his felonious glory. And now Nick saw the young coyote turn in his direction, mouth spreading open in a toothy sneer while his thumb went up to his nose. 'Too late Copper...ha! ha!' he seemed to be saying.
Oh yes, it was him all right; even with his face wrapped in flight goggles, Nick could never mistake that punk coyote for anyone else. And seated right behind him in the second cockpit was the young vixen Amanda Hill, huddling deeply into herself and also wearing goggles—only these weren't flying goggles, but safety goggles; not exactly your standard flight gear, but good enough in a pinch.
"Dangit Carrots," the red fox growled to himself. Judy's intuition had served her well yet again. Only...what the foxtrot was she doing up the...? "Oh my Gaw...No, don't!"
"JUDY, DON'T!" Nick fox-screamed, but his partner had already sprung backwards off the door lip, turning a somersault in mid-air. Nick's heart was in the back of his mouth as he watched her tumbling down and down and down, the prop blades waiting to slice and dice her into so many Judy Hopps cutlets.
And all he could do was watch...and hope.
Judy made the final spin and saw the biplane coming up fast beneath her, already feeling the wash from the propeller in her ears...and thinking to herself, "In heaven's name, what am I doing?"
The original plan had been to land with both feet on Craig Guildford's head and send him on a quick trip to dreamland. Now Judy wondered where she'd gotten that silly idea; even if it worked, then what? She didn't know how to shut down a stupid airplane; what the heck had she been thinking?
Well, none of that mattered anyway because she'd jumped too early; nothing to do now but grit her teeth and brace herself, do or die.
"I really AM a dumb bunny," she told herself, hoping like heck it wouldn't be the LAST thought she ever had.
She landed on the fuselage between the top wing and the propeller, the prop so close it was threatening to strip the fur off the back of her head. Then Judy felt herself starting to slip and snatched frantically at one of the center struts, grabbing it and holding on tight. When she looked up again, she was staring into the face of a bewildered Craig Guilford.
"Stop this plane, NOW!" she shouted, her words barely audible over the noise of the engine.
The young coyote didn't stop the plane. Perhaps he meant to, but in any event, caught completely by surprise he pushed forward on the throttle rather than back. The plane lurched forward and Judy fell sideways, crying out as she flailed with her paws, catching hold of another In a desperate Hail-Mary, Judy hooked her elbow through the strut and swung her feet up hard trying to wrap her legs around it. She made it just as the Stearmink smacked down onto the runway with a teeth-rattling impact, bouncing once, and then coming down again still rolling. Judy's head hit the wing, and her eyes filled with stars, but somehow she managed to hold on to her perch. Craig screamed again and tried to gun the engine—he had runway to spare for another take-off attempt—but the airplane stubbornly refused to give him more power.
He pounded the dashboard with his fists, and was preparing hit the throttle again when something flew past the Stearmink in a cloud of dust—two things actually, one on either side of the plane. Judy saw flashes of red and blue, heard the shrill, familiar whooping. And then out of the dust-cloud came a pair of ZPD black-and-whites, slewing onto the tarmac and turning sideways in a tire-scrunching drift—coming to a halt directly in front of the Stearmink and completely blocking the runway.
Now Judy did let go of the strut, sliding off the wing into a liquid roll and coming up on one knee, with her trank-dart gun in her paws. She touched the trigger, activating the laser-sight and a red-dot bloomed just beneath Craig Guilford's left ear. Even with the prop wash, she couldn't miss at this range.
"There's nowhere to run, kid!" she shouted, "Shut down the engine and show me your paws; do it...or I swear I'll drop you right now!"
Craig cut power and raised his paws. But in between those moves, he tore off his flight goggles and gave Judy a look that made her feel as if someone was pouring ice-water down her spine.
There was nothing in that face, no fear, no anxiety, no sorrow or remorse, not even hatred or defiance; it reminded her of a line from a song, she couldn't remember which one; 'Now there's a look in your eyes—like black holes in the sky.' That was the way Craig Guilford was looking at her right now, with about as much emotion as a shark eyeing an aquarium visitor. He didn't care what had just happened...no scratch that; this kid didn't care about ANTHING. It was nothing Judy hadn't seen before, but never in someone this young, only in much older criminals, (and also much more hardened.) It made her want to hug herself and shiver. This kid really could have dropped her from a hundred feet up in the air.
She shook it off, keeping him in her sights as she became aware of the figures running towards the aircraft through the swirl of the dust and haze.
"Don't move!" she commanded, waggling her weapon a little to show she meant it.
From the rear cockpit, Amanda Hill let out a wailing fox-scream, "I wanna go home!"
Judy ignored her and spoke in clipped, harsh tones.
"Craig Guilford, you're under arrest, for accessory to felonious assault and accessory to attempted murder..."
"Go smoke a tail-pipe, cutie-pie!"
"I wanna go home!"
This time Judy ignored them both.
"We're going to take you down from the plane now," she told the two young runaways. "After that, one of the officers will read you your rights." She waggled the gun a second time. "And don't try anything stupid Craig; I will dart you."
"And if she doesn't get you, I will," another voice growled, and it only then that Judy became aware of Nick Wilde's presence, right there beside her with his weapon drawn. She felt instantly reassured but the sight of him sent Craig Guilford straight into the ballistic zone.
"That's right, stinkin' traitor-fox, side with the BUNNY!" he snarled, a cauldron of boiling acid. He really was one messed up little 'yote, Judy decided.
"I wanna go home!" Mandy Hill bawled again from cockpit behind his.
While Nick and Judy kept Craig and Amanda covered, the Meadowlands officers hauled them down from the plane, (none too gently in the coyote's case.) Taking no chances, they assigned their two biggest heavyweights to the front cockpit, a buffalo and a panda-bear. At first, Craig offered no resistance...until Amanda wailed, "I wanna go HOME!" for something like the twelfth time in a row. That was all he could stand, and he couldn't stand no more; he began struggling wildly in the arms of his captors, screaming his rage and dismay
"Will you SHUT UP, you whiny little...!"
That was as far as he got before his words were cut off in a choking gurgle.
"Better put them in separated vehicles," Judy heard someone say, and then realized the words had come from her.
She heard someone answer, "Right," and for the first time noticed that she was still on one knee with her dart gun in her paws. She put it away and got up again.
Instantly, Judy's legs began to give way; it was as if all the tendons and ligaments had turned suddenly to rotten rubber bands.
"Please, not in front of the other officers!" She silently begged whoever might be watching over her. It was no use; the heavenly help desk was unoccupied at the moment and Judy Hopps was going down.
Or...no, she wasn't; at that instant, a pair of strong arms caught her and lifted her up again.
"It's all right Carrots, I've got you." She heard, Nick Wilde saying. She wrapped her arms around the fox, clutching him tight. "I've got you." He said again, still holding her.
At that moment, though neither one of them was aware, they were under the scrutiny of three different body-cams; much less could they know that the faces attached to two of them were wearing VERY unpleasant expressions.
Judy almost made it worse when she recovered, nearly going off on the Meadowlands OIC (for his officers' tardy arrival.) Not only had their suspects nearly gotten away, she had almost...
Luckily for her, Nick Wilde saw it coming and moved quickly to block her path.
"Easy Carrots, just take a deep breath," he told her, angling his eyes in the direction of the sloth bear running the show; ('more sloth than bear' he had already heard her grousing.) "Look at his sle-e-e-eeve, Carrots," he hummed softly. Judy did, and saw that it was decorated with not one, but two stripes. Nick was right, dang him...and at the same time, bless that fox; he had probably just saved her from a write-up for insubordination. Or no, not probably...definitely; that bear was already giving her the stink eye. Had he overheard what she'd said? No, he'd been talking on his radio at the time, so why the hostile gaze all of a sudden?
Never mind, she decided; it was time to get this show back on the road. Craig and Amanda were safely in custody and Meadowlands forensics could handle the crime scene from here.
Judy heard later that after taking the obligatory pictures and dusting for prints, the Meadowlands officers had enlisted Charlie Pye's help to get Jake Guilford's plane back in the hangar. (They couldn't just leave it blocking the runway.) That was when they'd learned exactly what had gone wrong with his nephew's escape plan.
"Kid made the fuel mix a mite too rich," the spotted skunk told them, "If he hadn't tried for a full throttle take-off with the engine not warmed up, he just might have gotten away with it."
But all of this was in the future, and by then Judy would have bigger problems than Craig Guilford...much bigger.
They went in three cars, the cruiser with Craig on board in the lead, the SUV carrying his girlfriend following, and Nick and Judy bringing up the rear. (This time, the fox was driving.)
As far as Judy Hopps was concerned, she and her partner had earned the right not to have to put up with any more of Craig Guilford's snarking—or his girlfriend's blubbering. The Meadowlands cops had come late to the party; let them deal with it. (She was still ticked off about it, even now.)
Midway to their destination, a call came in from Chief Bogo. Change of plans; they were to bring the two young suspects directly to Precinct One. Judy could tell by the groans coming over the radio that officers in the other cars were none too happy with this turn of events. Tough carrots, they could take it up with the Chief if they didn't like it; it certainly wasn't her fault.
(Had Judy stopped to think about it, she might have considered that perhaps the Meadowlands cops wouldn't see it that way. Chief Bogo might be the one responsible for this, but he was also unassailable; she wasn't.)
They had just turned onto the main road when, without warning, Nick Wilde spoke up from behind the wheel.
"Want to talk about it, Carrots?" he asked, still looking straight ahead
Judy's ears went up and her nose began to twitch.
"Nick...?"
"And please don't say 'about what?' He was still focused on the car in front of them
"I wasn't going to," she answered defensively, feeling her ears beginning to change course and turn backwards. "And don't you tell ME that you're surprised by what I did; you knew from the first time we met that I don't know when to quit." Even to her that sounded weak and she looked out the window for a second. Yes it was true; she had always been like this, even when she was little; going after Gideon Grey when he's tried to bully her friends into forking over their tickets...and that other incident at the Burrow County Fair, the following year. Nick didn't know about that one, but he knew about the time she'd abandoned her post as a meter maid to chase down Duke Weaseltton—and you better believe he was aware of her offer to Mrs. Otterton, "I'll find your missing husband."
And that wasn't even mentioning later on, when she'd stolen that subway car right out from under the noses of Doug the sheep and his two flunkies. And how had THAT worked out? In a train-wreck—literally—and they'd walked away with no more evidence than if she'd listened to Nick and run with what they had.
That was Judy Hopps all right, think fast, move fast; it had always been the way she rolled. So what was different this time; what was wrong with this picture?
It took Nick Wilde all of two seconds to put his finger on it, and if his instincts were a bit off the mark, they were close enough for police work, as Chief Bogo might have put it.
"I know what's coming next Carrots." He said, "you're going to ask me how is what you did any different from ME trying to bring down that kid's dad's plane with a fireworks display, am I right?"
Wrong! Judy hadn't been planning to ask him that—but now that he mentioned it...
He held up a pair of fingers; under different circumstance, it might have passed for a 'peace' sign.
"Not quite Carrots; two things. First of all, I didn't try to stop Jerry Guilford by risking my OWN pelt."
Judy's ears went back even further and her nose pinched up into a prune.
"What do you mean, you didn't risk anything? You were right there at ground zero..."
"Along with everybody else at that dance, including you." the fox reminded her, "and that brings me to difference number two: Craig's father was trying to launch an attack on the Carrot Days Festival when we hit him with those fireworks; if we hadn't stopped him, a lot of innocent animals could have gotten hurt...or worse." He corked a thumb backwards, in the direction of Jake Guilford's house, "But Craig? He was only trying to make a getaway when you jumped down onto that airplane. No one else was in danger back there...only you."
Now Judy felt her ears pull back so far it was as if a larger mammal was yanking them. What the HECK? Who did this...this fox think he was, getting all high and mighty with her? If it had been up to him, those two kids would have been miles away from Jake Guilford's place by the time they got there. She turned in her seat, ready to give him a piece of her mind...and saw the look on his face. It was anything but haughty, instead her partner looked...he looked torn.
She immediately felt herself sagging.
"Nick, you're right," she told him, her voice weakening to a near mumble. "It's just...I was so frustrated, I wasn't thinking straight. We were that close...that close to taking down Craig Guilford and he was going to get away." She looked out the window and coughed, "You know, right up until I made that jump, I was actually backing off?"
The red fox didn't answer this, but Judy saw him raising an eyebrow behind his sunglasses; it was enough to make her raise a paw, as if she were about to be sworn in on the witness stand.
"Swear to God, I was, Nick" she said, offering a small shudder before adding, "a-and I still can't believe I did that."
"You sure you're okay?" he asked her, hisa nguish giving way to concern for just a moment. At that instant Judy thought she knew the real reason he was unhappy with her. It was sweet, but she was going to make him say it just the same.
"I'm fine Nick," she answered, waving a paw, "Really, it's just that....that..."
Ohhh, why were there never the right words around when you needed them? In the end it didn't matter; that was all the prompting her partner needed.
"Judy I know that you're—that we're in a hazardous occupation; I accepted it years ago." He rolled his lips for a second and then continued. "But that doesn't mean I have to accept it when you take a needless risk. Was stopping Craig Guilford from getting away worth DYING for? You tell me."
"No Nick," she admitted her voice now barely audible. "No, it wasn't."
Something in her manner seemed to dampen the fox's fire and he eased up a little.
"It would tear me to pieces if anything ever happened to you, Judy," he said, "but if it was a worthy sacrifice, if you lost your life saving someone else from dying, I'd learn to live with it, eventually, and move on." He sniffed and shook his head, "But if you died pointlessly, if I lost you over a chance you didn't need to take—that's something I think...no, that's something I know I'd never get over."
He sniffed again and looked straight at her for a second.
"But that wasn't what I was asking about, Carrots. In all the time we've been partners, I have never seen you nearly collapse the way you did back there. So...do you want to talk about it?"
Judy didn't...but she knew she had to, for herself as much as for him. She sighed again, but this time she kept her eyes on her partner.
"Nick, if Craig had managed to gotten that plane off the ground all the way, I could never have held on...and he would have let me fall; I saw it in his eyes when he gave himself up." She shuddered again, but this time, she didn't try to fight it. "When that realization hit me, it hit like a runaway semi, scared me to bejeebus and back again."
Nick's foot nearly jammed down on the brake pedal. Now he was staring at her, never mind that he was driving—the heck with traffic!
"Hang on...are you the same bunny that jumped out of an airplane with me a few days ago?"
Judy's mouth crinkled sideways in a wry expression.
"Different story, Nick, I was wearing a parachute and had a skydiving instructor pinned to my back. But if Craig had gotten that plane up, I 'd have had nothing to break my..." She trailed off into another shudder. Nick stared again, but this time his expression that was half surprised and half sympathetic.
"You...You really are that spooked, aren't you?"
Judy started to sigh again, but this time she stopped herself.
"Nick, I'm going to tell you something that may seem irrelevant at first. But please bear with me, it's important, okay?"
"Okay," the red fox nodded, returning his attention to the road and touching up on the accelerator. (They had fallen behind the other police cars in the midst of their argument.)
"It happened at the Burrow County Fair," she told him, "the year after I performed that skit at the talent show. They had a hot-air balloon ride and I really wanted to go, but Pop-Pop thought it was too dangerous for kid my age...and no, I didn't, or at least a I didn't plan to. (Nick's face was beginning to stretch into a smirk.) But then I saw my friend Dinah trying to sneak onto it...she was a sloth, so it wasn't hard to spot her..."
"Hang on, you went to school with a sloth, too?" Nick was pushing his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose and looking at her again. Whoa, small world they lived in; he had also been friends with a member of that species when he was younger...well-l-l-l okay, it had been high school not grade school, but still... Hmmm, what was his old buddy Flash up to these days? He'd been dismissed from the DMV after being busted for street racing; a shame really. After that, Nick had lost track of him.
"Yes, that's right," Judy answered, annoyed at having had her train of discussion shunted to a siding. Nick either didn't notice, or else he didn't care.
"So what'd her father do, cable guy?" he asked, offering wink and a smirk.
Judy's face pinched up as if she'd sunk her teeth into an unripe persimmon.
"No, he ran the Burrow County Records Office. Do you want to hear the rest of this story or not?"
Nick let his shades slip back into place, and lifted his paw in a placating gesture, "Sorry, go ahead."
Judy eyed him for a second and then continued.
"When Dinah climbed into the balloon basket, the porcupine in charge lost control of it—I forget exactly how—and then it started to drift away with her still inside."
"So you jumped on board to try and rescue her, right?" Nick's face remained fixed on the road but there was that smirk, creasing his muzzle again. This time however, Judy wasn't nettled; she grinned right back at him.
"What do you THINK I did? Duh!" she winked, and then her mouth abruptly flat-lined. "Wasn't funny though, I found out pretty quick that I'd bitten off more than I could chew; ever try to steer a hot air balloon? What was even worse was that the darn thing kept on rising and rising and we couldn't make it stop. Finally I decided that the only way to get us down was to swing up top of the balloon and pop it.
Nick nearly hit the brakes again.
"Cripes, and I thought what you did just now was crazy! You're lucky you didn't end up as bunny pancakes, you know that Carrots?"
He immediately steeled himself, but Judy only shrugged.
"I know, I know. What can I say? I was ten years old. But you're right; if there hadn't been a release value on top of that balloon... Anyway, long story short, we landed on top of a tree and Dinah carried me down on her back. She got grounded, and I ended up pulling weeds out in the fields for a week. The balloon operator paid a hefty fine for not properly securing his rig, and never came back to the Burrow again."
"And the point of all this is...?" Nick raised an eyebrow, still not looking at her.
"The point," Judy wasn't looking at him either, "Is that I thought I was okay afterwards. But on the way home, I started shaking so badly my dad had to pull over for a minute...and then I had nightmares for a week. Sometimes I still get them; I wouldn't be surprised if I have another one tonight."
She paused, searching once again for the right words.
"Everyone has their weak spot Nick, and that's mine; no...not flying, or heights, or anything like that, it's being in a place where I have no control. That's why I jumped down onto that airplane like I did; I couldn't just sit there, I had to DO something."
She saw his ears and mouth working for a second, and then the fox seemed to come to a decision.
"Okay Carrots, I understand...sort of. No one knows better than me what it's like to be that age and feel like you have no control." He winced and bit his lip for a second—and Judy felt a sudden wash of guilt; he was revisiting the muzzling incident again, the last place she would have wanted to take him.
"Nothing you just told me will ever leave this police-car," he promised her, raising a quick paw, "and if the Chief chews you out for what happened, I'll back you. Only..."
"What?"
For a very long moment, Nick said nothing more. Then he turned to her again.
"Only you need to get a handle on this issue, Judy. You need to talk it over with someone more qualified than me—because I don't see it getting any better on its own."
Judy felt her ears pull back again.
"What, you mean the ZPD shrink? No! Way!" She could just imagine the whispering if she went down that road. Nick however was unperturbed by her expression; in fact, his own face bordered nearly on a look of compassion.
"There's no shame in talking to a Police Counselor, Carrots. If you really want to know, I've been to see one a couple of times, myself." He lifted his sunglasses again, offering her a short wink, "Maybe you noticed lately that I haven't been as much of a wise-mouth in the bullpen as I used to be? Now you know why."
He turned his attention to his driving again—while Judy pulled herself thoughtfully into her car-seat, nose twitching slowly. Yes-s-s, Nick had learned to curb his enthusiasm of late.
But counseling...her? Mmmm, she didn't know. Maybe she could talk to her mother instead; mom might not be any kind of a psych professional, but she had loads of wisdom and to spare. One thing was for certain, though; Judith Lavern Hopps had better start dealing with that reckless streak of hers, and sooner rather than later.
Because the next time she gave in to that part of herself, it just might be the last time.
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Author's note:
Judy's recollections of her experience at the Burrow County Fair are taken from the Zootopia graphic novel, 'Friends to the Rescue.'
You can find it by Googling 'Friends to the Rescue' and 'Zootopia.'