The Fire Triangle, A Zootopia Fanfiction -- Part One

The Fire Triangle, A Zootopia Fanfiction -- Part One: Fuel - 97

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 11 –The Fire Next Time
(Pt. 5...Continued)

"For crying out loud, what's TAKING so long; did the stupid city finally decide to crack down or something? (Yeah, that would be my luck.")

Conor Lewis craned his neck and peered down the track. Nothing in sight, not yet anyway; he might as well just sit down.

Parking himself on the upturned remains of large-mammal ice-chest, he kicked back and settled in to wait.

It was relatively cool today, which was good; what wasn't so good was that the sky was roiling with lead-bottom clouds, offering the threat of rain. Conor had decidedly mixed feelings about that possibility. If there was one thing he didn't need, it was to get hit with a downpour in the middle of a supply run, especially with his larder almost empty. He was taking a risk by going out today—and it could easily go from bad to worse. If a storm hit while he was on the way out, not good, but he could handle it; he'd have to cancel the run and try again later but at least his purchases wouldn't be ruined. If the rains came while he was headed home however, THAT could end up a stinkin' calamity—all of his provisions soaked and fit only for the dumpster.

On the other paw, the threat of inclement weather would thin out the streets a little; the fewer animals he came in contact with today, the better. More to the point, it gave him an excuse to don a poncho and a broad brimmed drover's hat, thus further adding to his disguise. (He normally never wore either of those items.)

Not that the young silver fox would have been recognizable without them; his silver-black fur was now the color of charcoal ash, and his burning amber eyes had been altered to a dark, midnight brown, (courtesy of some theatrical contact lenses.)

The regular applications of deodorizer and a dab or two of musk underneath the arms had transformed his scent into that of an arctic fox as well, (he hoped!)

Just to add a bit more depth to the illusion, Conor had used duck-tape to make the holes on the brim his hat a little smaller than normal, thus permitting only the top 2/3rds of his ears to stick through. It was none too comfortable, but it made those ears appear smaller than they actually were; much closer to arctic-fox-size than before. A pair of thick-soled sandals completed the masquerade, adding perhaps half an inch to his height.

One of the nice things about being only 14 (or whatever) was that you weren't required to carry identification. Nonetheless, Conor had some, just in case, a virtual ID, fake of course, uploaded onto his cell phone. To cover the costs of his provisioning, he had a prepaid debit card in his wallet...which would lead the cops nowhere should they happen to get their paws on it. If need be, he could return the funds to his bank account and wipe it clean with the touch of a cell-phone button.