Zootopia: Runaway: Gazelle's Story

Interlude: Nick and Judy

Judy let out a shuddering sigh as she stared in utter dismay at the pages describing Symba's death. He had been brutally murdered, all simply because he was a predator--solely due to fear-based hate.

"So that WAS the part I read in the car," Nick said beside her, referring to the passages referring to the buzz collar's explosion and torture of Symba.

In light of the horrors Gazelle had suffered through, neither of them could say anything for what seemed like an eternity. Watching her parents be murdered in front of her at the age of six and raised for the next sixteen years as an orphan in one of the roughest cities in the state of Animalia; that was awful enough by itself. But this...

It was almost too much to bear.

The two of them were still in the dimly-lit ZPD forensics room, their food long ago finished and in their stomachs. The activity of the police station outside had crawled to a minimum as the evening wore on, a usual solace for those animals who had late-afternoon hours to clock. Janitors were busy mopping floors. Officers gathered up their things to make ready for the night shift team to come in. Even Chief Bogo and Benjamin Clawhauser, the chubby cheetah who hung around behind the counter, had gone back to their respective homes.

Amidst the throbbing, heart-wrenching silence, Nick checked his watch, and noticed that it was now 6:45, the time when he and Judy typically began to pack up their gear and return to their homes. Without a word, he got up, slipped on his police jacket, which he had hung over the back of the seat, and began to gather up his things.

"Hey, Carrots?" he called out to the transfixed rabbit, "it's about that time."

Judy wasn't really paying attention.

"I-- I can't believe all of this," Judy said quietly, her rabbity ears drooping.

Nick sighed as he zipped up his jacket. Of course, he wasn't leaving. He was merely packing up their things so they would be ready whenever they did, in fact, leave.

"I honestly had a feeling that was going to happen," he said, referring to the account of Symba's death, "but a part of me was hoping that the book was talking about someone else."

As though he had lost his nerve, Nick sat back down at the table and stared glumly at the open diary in front of him like it was some sort of depressing algebra grade.

"Nick," Judy said in a soft voice, "we don't have to keep reading, if you don't want to."

"Well, to be perfectly honest," Nick said, "no, I don't want to."

Judy nodded and was about to close the book when Nick continued, a slight look of hope in his eyes.

"However," he said, causing Judy to look in his direction, "I am curious to see what comes next. What do you think?"

"Nick," Judy said quickly, "personally, I can't see how this can possibly be a good tale. I can't see how what happened to Gazelle in the past holds no grip over her today. I can't bring myself to belief she's not tortured on a regular basis by the death of her parents, the death of Symba, and this was all within our lifetimes! I heard her music for the first time when I was fourteen, and it was the most joyful noise I had heard in my life! But now I'm asking myself, 'Is there any sort of real, long-lasting joy with her, as it appears, or is it all some kind of an act?'"

Nick nodded.

"That's one of the questions I had been wondering about, too, Carrots," he said. "And also, why aren't there any buzz collars in Capital City today? If this terror was still going on, you'd think we'd still be hearing something about it."

Judy had to admit that her foxy friend had a point, which piqued her own curiosity. Plus, she wanted to hear about how Gazelle became the Gazelle that she and the rest of Zootopia knew; the smiling, cheerful, positive, upbeat Gazelle who promoted messages of hope, humility, peace and standing up for injustice.

Quietly turning the page, her chest tight and her eyes watering, Judy continued on.