Judy stood perfectly still, her eyes sweeping across the group of visitors whose towering bodies dwarfed every rabbit in sight.
The white wolf at the front wore a white tank top beneath a garishly patterned short-sleeved shirt, paired with gray shorts that fell to his knees.
His fur gleamed whiter than fresh snow, and dark sunglasses hid his eyes completely, making his expression impossible to read.
His posture radiated lazy ease, yet something sharp lurked beneath the surface, like a blade wrapped in cotton wool.
Behind him, several polar bears stood like silent monoliths, their massive bodies straining against black suits, faces frozen in stern expressions, as if they’d been born looking displeased.
Beside the white wolf stood a lynx in sky-blue summer clothes, yellow sunglasses perched on his nose, a cheerful smile on his face as he gazed around with open curiosity.
He clutched a small camcorder in his paws, clicking away nonstop, as if trying to capture every last detail through his lens.
Judy instinctively felt that these people were loaded, just like the celebrities she’d seen on TV, radiating an unmistakable sheen of wealth and status.
As she studied them, Kevin was studying her.
This little gray rabbit was different from the others, most kits were either afraid and timid or shy, but Judy was like a freshly sprouted seed, her eyes clear and bright, with starlight swimming in their depths.
Cute, absolutely.
But there was a stubbornness buried in her bones, nothing flimsy about her.
‘Nick’s a lucky guy,’ Kevin thought, withdrawing his gaze with an easy smile.
“We’re not from around here.
Just tourists passing through.
We’re from Zootopia.” “Wow.” The word “Zootopia” dropped like a stone into still water, ripples spreading outward in every direction.
Judy’s family wasn’t the only one to take notice, nearby animals perked up their ears, waves of curious stares washing over the group like a tide.
A brave little alpaca hesitated, then approached Pawbert, who seemed the most approachable, and stammered, “Um…
is Zootopia really big?” Pawbert lifted his sunglasses slightly, looking down at the fluffy little creature, and softened his voice.
“It’s enormous.” “Bigger than Bunnyburrow?” “If you count all of Bunnyburrow’s farmland…
probably a few hundred times bigger.
Maybe more.” “Wow!” Gasps rippled through the rabbit crowd like wind through wheat.
Kevin tilted his head toward Judy.
“Want some ice cream?” Judy shook her head, pointing at her signature adorable buck teeth with mock seriousness.
“No thanks.
Too much sugar’s bad for my teeth.” “Judy and Grandpa bought tickets.
It’s our turn now,” Bonnie called out, her voice cutting through the chatter.
Kevin nodded and followed after them.
—— When they bought their tickets and entered the big warehouse theater, quite a crowd of little animals had already gathered.
The play hadn’t started yet, and the air was thick with the sweet scent of hay and fruits.
Animals chatted in small clusters, and occasionally a toddler would dart between the seats like a rolling ball of yarn.
But when Kevin’s group walked in, the noise level dropped noticeably.
Several polar bears, plus a wolf and a lynx, predators suddenly appearing in the heart of prey territory, it was impossible not to attract attention.
Rabbit families with their long strings of kits filled most of the seats, with sheep, deer, and other herbivores scattered here and there.
Predators were a rare sight, you could count them on two paws.
Many little rabbits shrank back, hiding in their parents’ arms, then peeked out again, stealing glances at the “outsiders.” Kevin and the others settled in the back rows, where the seats were built to accommodate larger animals.
The play began shortly, a production called ‘Trust Has Bounds’.
The performers were all eight- or nine-year-olds, their movements clumsy but earnest.
Kevin and Pawbert, watching this kind of thing for the first time, started off with straight faces, but before long the earnest awkwardness of the performance had them fighting to suppress their grins.
Just as they were getting into it, Judy bounded over between the seats, clutching a small parcel wrapped in oil paper.
“Mom and Dad said to bring you some candied fruits.” She unwrapped the paper to reveal rows of miniature fruits, strawberries, blueberries, and other small berries threaded on sticks.
They were perfectly sized for Judy and her siblings, but in the paws of polar bears and Kevin, they looked like toys, especially the bears.
Kevin picked one up and smiled at Judy.
“Thanks, Judy.
That’s very kind of you.” “You’re welcome.” Judy’s ears turned slightly pink at the tips, but she didn’t leave immediately.
She shuffled her feet, a hint of shyness on her face mixed with eager anticipation.
“Can I ask you a question?” Kevin nodded.
“Go ahead.” “I want to know…
in Zootopia, is there a rabbit police officer?” Kevin’s heart gave a little jolt.
Sure enough, this girl’s dream of being a cop started young.
He answered bluntly: “Not yet.
It’s incredibly difficult for a rabbit to become a police officer.
The entrance exams are brutal, especially the physical fitness tests, small animals like rabbits rarely make it through.” “Oh, that’s great.” Judy hadn’t heard the second half at all.
Her eyes lit up like lanterns.
“Maybe I’ll be the first, a rabbit police officer.” Kevin looked at her determined expression, and the corner of his mouth curved slightly.
“Good luck to you.” —— “Excuse me, pardon me!
Anyone want a sandwich or some carrot juice?” A gray fox in a cap and yellow employee uniform threaded his way down the aisle, a basket slung over his shoulder packed with snacks and drinks, pushing a cart stacked with large sandwiches in front of him.
On the other side, another fox appeared around the corner, dressed identically, also pushing a cart.
“Fresh sandwiches, juice, candy, popcorn, who wants some?” Kevin glanced at the two foxes, then leaned toward Judy.
“Want some popcorn?
My treat.” Judy shook her head with a smile.
“No thanks.” She waved at him and bounced back to her parents in the front row.
Kevin exchanged a look with Stu across the room and turned back to the play.
The gray fox with the cart approached, his voice smooth as oil.
“Hey there, want some popcorn and juice?
We’ve got fresh carrot cake too.” “No thanks.” Pawbert didn’t even look up, waving the fox off to signal him to move aside and stop blocking his view.
“Sure, sorry about that.” The fox vendor nodded agreeably, but his eyes swept past Pawbert and landed on Kevin not far ahead.
The corner of his mouth twitched upward in a lightning-fast grin before flattening again.
“Anyone else…?” He continued down the aisle, his tone lazy.
But somehow, his foot caught on something, and the cart slipped from his grasp.
Inertia sent it careening forward.
His basket went flying too, bottles and jars arcing through the air in a spray of glass and color.
Kevin caught a dark blur out of the corner of his eye and jerked sideways, but it was too late.
The polar bear beside him reached out and clamped down on the cart’s frame, stopping it cold, but the flying juice bottles and sandwich plates had already rained down.
Shattering glass, thudding trays, the wet slap of splattering juice, it all crashed into the theater like a handful of gravel thrown against a window.
Rabbits’ ears shot up in unison, little heads swiveling around, eyes wide with shock and curiosity.
For a moment, time seemed to freeze.
Kevin had a sandwich plastered to his face, a shred of lettuce stuck to his nose.
His clothes were smeared with apple pie and cream, orange juice dripping down his snow-white fur, soaking through his white shirt and garish short-sleeved top, pattering onto the floor.
Several bears tensed simultaneously.
The nearest one had already reached into his jacket, halfway to pulling out a switchblade, but Kevin pressed a paw gently over his.
“No need.
It’s nothing serious.” Kevin’s tone was flat, almost dismissive.
“Oh, I’m so sorry!” The gray fox scurried over frantically, calling his partner, and they fussed over cleaning up the mess on Kevin.
The commotion reached Judy and her family.
Bonnie hurried over with Judy and a few of the little ones.
“Are you okay?” Judy handed him a wet wipe, while Bonnie pulled tissues from her pocket and pressed them into Kevin’s paw.
“I’m fine.
Just got my clothes dirty.” Kevin took the wipe and cleaned his face, letting the two foxes scramble to pick up the debris, his manner completely composed.
The fox brothers apologized profusely, but their paws worked quickly and stealthily, tidying the area around Kevin’s seat, a pack of tissues, a pair of sunglasses, their movements smooth and practiced, as if they’d rehearsed this a thousand times.
“I’m going to the restroom.
You all keep watching.” Kevin stood up.
One polar bear went to fetch spare clothes from the car, while the others escorted him toward the restroom, leaving one behind next to Pawbert like a silent sentry.
A few little rabbits were heading for the restroom, but the polar bear blocked them with one massive arm, leaving them squatting against the wall, their ears drooping pitifully.
It took a while before Kevin emerged, now wearing a pink-and-white short-sleeved shirt.
He’d scrubbed off the sticky juice residue with plenty of water, but if you got close, you could still smell that sweet blend of carrot clinging to him.
He pushed the door open to find dozens of little rabbits crowding the entrance.
The moment the door opened, they surged in like a flood, nearly bowling Kevin over.
He shook his head with a wry smile.
“These rabbits aren’t dangerous.” “Grandmama’s orders,” one of the polar bears behind him said in a low, unarguable tone.
Kevin didn’t argue.
He lifted his sleeve and sniffed, that cloying sweetness still stubbornly clung to him.
—— Back at his seat, an elderly beaver in glasses was bowing to Pawbert, apologizing profusely: “I’m terribly sorry for the trouble…” “Your theater’s vendors are awfully clumsy,” Pawbert grumbled.
“Huh?
But we don’t have any vendors?” The old beaver took off his glasses and wiped them, looking genuinely confused.
“What vendors are you talking about?” Kevin and Pawbert froze.
Judy spoke up first: “There were two foxes just now!” “Yeah, yeah!
They were selling sandwiches and juice!” Judy’s little sisters and brothers chimed in.
“But I didn’t authorize anyone to sell things inside,” the theater director said, blinking behind his lenses.
“Forget it.
Maybe they’re just trying to make a living.
No need to make a big deal out of it.
Besides, I’m all cleaned up now.” Kevin turned to Pawbert.
“Pawbert, perfume.
I still smell too strong.” “Yeah.” Pawbert nodded, reaching absently to his side.
Empty.
He whipped his head around.
His backpack was gone from the seat.
“Wait, the bag was right here just a moment ago…” His forehead met his paw with a sharp smack.
“Those two foxes…” It clicked for everyone in the room at once: thieves.
—— Out back, two gray shadows were hunched low, hugging the wall and sprinting toward the fields.
“This bag is so heavy, there’s definitely good stuff inside!
Those guys looked loaded!” The fox in front was a lean one named Gray, his green eyes bright, barely containing his excitement.
“Move it, move it!
No time to waste!” Fat Phil huffed, clutching the bulging bag to his chest.
“I snuck a peek, there’s a wallet in here.
Jackpot!” The two foxes ducked into an abandoned warehouse at the edge of the fields, where a stolen scooter waited in the corner.
Cobwebs draped everywhere, and shafts of light fell through holes in the roof, dust motes drifting lazily in the beams.
“Open it, How much money is there?” Gray rubbed his paws together, crowding in impatiently.
Phil unzipped the bag and reached in, pulling out a handful of things: perfume bottles, medicine cases, a notebook, a knife, a dagger, and a flip phone.
“Whoa, check this out!” Gray grabbed the phone, turning it over and over.
“Big name brand!
This must be worth a fortune, those old brick phones sell for thousands, imagine what this one’s worth!” “We’re rich, we’re rich!” Phil licked his lips, wiping his sweaty paws on his pants.
“Keep going,” Gray urged, rubbing his paws together greedily.
Phil upended the bag completely, dumping out more notebooks, pens, keys, and all sorts of odds and ends.
Finally, a black box tumbled out, heavy, landing with a dull thud on the ground.
“This box is pretty fancy,” Phil said, hefting it.
“Decent weight too.” “Maybe it’s gold or jewelry inside?” “You know…
you might be right.
Open it!” The two brothers locked eyes, hearts pounding.
Gray’s paws trembled slightly as he slowly pried open the black box.
“Whoaaaa, AAHHHH?!” The excited gasp curdled into a shriek.
Lying inside the box was a sleek black handgun, its metal glinting cold in the dim light.
Two magazines sat in the groove beside it.
A real gun.
Phil’s arm jerked violently, and the gun clattered to the ground.
Gray stumbled backward until his back hit the wall, sending dust raining down.
“A gun…
it’s a gun…” “Don’t look at me!
I didn’t know!” Gray’s voice cracked.
Gun control laws were extremely strict, the only ones with permits were special armed forces, top crime bosses, or serious underground players.
Not even the local police had one; they only used tranquilizer guns.
A bunch of pampered rich kids, with polar bear bodyguards in suits…
It didn’t exactly scream “tourists.” If they were connected to an underground crime family, the two foxes were as good as dead.
They’d only ever pulled off petty theft, picking pockets, lifting wallets, never anything like this.
“We’re screwed, we’re screwed, we’re screwed…” Phil’s lips quivered.
“Drop the gun and run!
Don’t just stand there, grab the cash and valuables and go!” He slapped Gray across the face, snapping him out of it.
Gray scrambled onto the back of the scooter.
Phil twisted the throttle, and the scooter coughed to life with a hoarse roar, shooting out of the warehouse and kicking up a cloud of dust.
Their hearts hammered in their chests, cold wind biting through their collars.
“We gotta lay low…
for a long time!” Gray yelled from the back.
“No kidding!” Phil gritted his teeth, cranking the throttle to the max.
The fields flew by on both sides, the warehouse shrinking behind them like a speck of dust left behind.
“WOO-HOO!” Phil’s triumphant cry barely had time to echo before a heavy engine roar exploded from behind.
The sound rolled over them like a waking beast, pounding down the road.
A black pickup truck burst around a curve, its chassis slamming hard into the dirt road, kicking up a plume of dust.
Then a second truck.
Then a third….
“Slow down!
SLOW DOWN, !
AHHH!
I want my mommy, mommy save me, I wanna go home!” Pawbert was pinned to his seat by the sudden G-force, his ears flattened against his head.
He covered his eyes with both paws, peeking through the gaps at the green fields blurring past.
Kevin gripped the steering wheel, a near-feral grin stretching across his face.
His eyes blazed with fury behind his sunglasses.
“He tried to play me…
I let it slide, and then he steals from me?
Watch me total his ride…” He stomped the gas pedal to the floor.
The pickup’s engine roared, the tachometer needle leaping, and the truck shot forward like an arrow across the bumpy dirt road.
Trees, fields, telephone poles, all smeared into indistinct blurs, rushing past.
The distance between the scooter and the pickup truck shrank at terrifying speed.
Gray twisted around, his pupils filling with the growing black grille.
His voice cracked: “Oh God, they’re serious!
GO GO GO!” “It’s maxed out!” Phil screamed, his paws nearly twisting the throttle off.
The scooter strained, its frame starting to wobble at the extreme speed, like a leaf torn by a gale.
Ahead, a river glittered under the sunlight, its narrow surface like a mirror paved with silver coins.
But the pickup behind was closing in.
Kevin’s voice blasted through the partly open window, laced with rage, practically right against their backs.
“You can’t outrun me, you know that?” Phil didn’t have time to retort before a deafening crash of metal on metal rang out… CRUNCH!
The pickup’s bumper connected with the scooter’s rear wheel, and served as a speed bump.
The tiny scooter launched into the air like a swatted insect, flipping end over end, carrying Phil and Gray’s screams through a chaotic arc.
The two brothers sprawled in midair, arms and legs flailing like tossed ragdolls.
Time seemed to stretch.
Sunlight.
Wind.
The dizzying sensation of weightlessness.
The flash of the river’s reflected light.
All mixing together… Then… SPLASH!
SPLASH!
Water erupted, the river’s surface shattering into a churning white mess.
Seconds later, two dripping-wet foxes surfaced, coughing, paddling frantically for the shore.
Phil’s hat floated on the water, spinning slowly in lazy circles.
Gray spat out a mouthful of river water, hacking violently.
On the riverbank, the black pickup slid into a perfect drift, then slowly stopped, its tires spraying clods of wet mud.
————•★•————★ Author Note: Thanks for reading!
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