Escape from Zootopia

Chapter 2

A long, straight road stretched before Judy, leading over plains and into the city. Debris and ash scattered across the highway, marking where explosive projectiles had impacted it. This was Wall Way, one of the few remaining avenues to downtown Zootopia. The old light rail tracks were long gone.

Under the highway awaited a deep canyon. They'd--the federal government--had excavated an unfathomable trench around downtown Zootopia. The canyon walls were smooth, featureless surfaces of concrete.

At the end of the highway, a mile off, the city abruptly began with a wall of wreckage. Behind that rose the dilapidated skyscrapers of Zootopia. Denizens were not allowed within a mile of the gate; Judith was in no man's land.

A long, shrill creaking announced that the gate behind her was closing. And then, it slammed shut. Its reverberations shook the ground under her.

Judy looked over her shoulder to the top of the gate.

Snipers waited in the diffuse moonlight, at the ready to shoot anyone daring to leave the city.

She hopped along the highway, dodging broken glass on her right and charred shrapnel on her left. All four of her paws met the hard asphalt with sharp pats. Lukewarm breeze blew the ammonic stench of the city her way. Judy was expert in navigating treacherous terrain, and she dashed the entire mile with no trouble.

So, it was soon that she approached the outskirts of the city. The road continued inward. Judy stayed just outside, clinging to the city limits. She held her back to a cold, gnarled sheet of rust twice her height.

A wet shlurp perked Judy's ears. On the opposite side of the wall, an anteater raided an anthill made of rubble. The anteater stood at Judy's height, but double Judy's width, with saddlebag hips composed of sloping lard. A bulbous gut hung down to her knees and billowed half an arm's length forward. A torn t-shirt covered her breasts, each the size of bowling balls. Her long snout puffed with flab.

She shot her tongue into the pile of rubble and clung to three ants. The anteater's pink tongue was long, stretchy, and sticky.

The ants, black but covered with soot, wriggled helplessly in her grip.

She ripped her tongue back in. Her throat bulged with a large, lumpy knot that plunged right into her belly. She patted her fatty middle, rippling it. "Ahhh."

From the anthill, another ant skittered out past the anteater. It ran towards the clearing leading out of the city.

The anteater hobbled after it. It toddered onto one foot, wagging its rotund gut to the side, and then waddled onto the other foot, rocking its belly the other way. Her corpulent thighs forced her into an ungainly gait that sloshed her belly side to side, challenging her center of balance.

In the road before the anteater, a thin stream of pebbles and dust erupted upward. An ear-splitting bang popped.

Back above the outer gate, a sniper had taken aim.

The anteater spun on her heel and waddled back inward. Her hefty hips swung her backside.

Judy waited. The last thing she wanted was to catch a bullet meant for someone else. Once the anteater had wandered off, Judy crept into the city.

She plucked her tracking device from a breast pocket. Its interface showed a red dot to indicate bearing and displayed the distance in meters. It pointed her dead ahead, along the main drag.

Judy walked on with soft steps. Her ears detected distant scuffles and clatters. She looked around and saw nothing but crumbling high-rises. The streets appeared empty. With the street lamps out, she had nothing but the moonlight to see the way.