The syringe was enormous, pistol-shaped and well-padded in its metal holder. Judy Hopps's heart stopped at the sight of it. There was no way—no way that thing was meant for them.

Nick Wilde removed his phone from his back pocket. It was vibrating. His eyes met Judy's as he flipped it open and switched the sound to speaker mode.

A female's voice, crisp and calculating: "Load the vile into the syringe and inject yourself."

"W-wait, what's in it?" asked the fox.

"The syringe contains an experimental hard drug. The cargo hold is not pressurized. The injections will lower your heart rate, reducing your need for oxygen. You'll have a 92% chance of survival. Do it now, or you will suffocate."

Judy felt the blood drain from her face. She shook her head. There was no way.

Nick lifted the syringe to his arm without hesitation. Judy gaped at him. Had he really learned to trust the Voice so implicitly? This stranger who'd forced them away from their homes and into the cargo hold of a military aircraft?

Apparently so. His expression hard, he pressed the syringe against his inner elbow. Then, with a sound like a heavy-duty stapler, he injected the foreign liquid into his arm.

Judy gasped, jerked away from him instinctively. But he grabbed her arm and forced her fingers to wrap around the trigger.

"Okay," he said. "Your turn."

Judy shook her head. "I can't."

"You have seven seconds, Judy Hopps."

"You don't have a choice."

"No—no, I can't!"

"Five seconds. Four—"

"Just look at me! Look at me!" Their eyes met. He nodded. "You're going to be okay." Their eyes still locked, he placed his fingers over hers, and pulled the trigger.

She didn't hear the injection—the plane's engines were at full capacity now. But the sharp sting that shot through her arm was unmistakable.

Outside, someone shouted. An alarm sounded. The cargo door began to close, suddenly, irrevocably.

"Get in the crate."

Judy hadn't even noticed the tiny box beside them. Surely that wasn't the crate she was talking about.

"Come on! GET IN!"

Again, Judy's gut commanded her to run. She tried to obey it, but Nick's grip was too tight, the noise around her too disorienting, and before she knew it, they were both inside, sealed in like a couple of criminals in a kennel.

Judy gasped for breath. The space was too small—too small. She reached into the darkness, pressed her paws against the wall, ceiling. "No. No no no no no no no—"

A bright light appeared in the dark—Nick's phone. He placed it on the floor between them. "Hey, look—we're okay. We're okay, see?"

"N-no we're not. Just let me out. Please let me out."

"Judy, we're fine. Just talk to me. Tell me about . . ." He snapped his fingers. "Your family! You guys seem close. Tell me about your siblings"

"Which ones?"

"Um, how many do you have?"

"T-two hundred and seventy five."

"Two hundred—" The fox stopped himself, cleared his throat. "Wow, you guys really are good at multiplying."

Judy giggled nervously, then she took another gulp of air, her paws pressed firmly against the sides of the crate. "You're such a punk."

"It took you this long to figure that out? Hey, speaking of which, you never told me the name of that guy you're dating."

"Was dating."

"Oh, sorry." He laughed. "Was. What's his name, again?"

"Jack. Jack Savage."

"Savage? Okay, he just sounds like a d-bag."

Judy released the wall to stifle a laugh. "He's really not, he's just . . ."

The room seemed to rock then, though whether that was drug-induced or caused by the movement of the plane was anyone's guess. Judy blinked, disoriented. "Um, what was I saying?"

"You were telling me about Savage."

She smirked. "Right. Um . . . well, I thought I loved him."

Nick paused. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." She rubbed her eyes. Where had all her energy gone? She let her other paw fall into her lap. "We were talking about getting married. Thought he loved me too, but . . ."

The tiny screen went dark. Nick's paw brushed against her leg as he searched for the phone. He switched it back on. "There—sorry. You were saying."

Judy could barely keep her eyes open now. She let her head fall back against the cold wall. "Turns out . . . turns out he'd been in love with someone else . . . the whole time . . . a fox."

Nick snorted. "Wow. That . . ." He rubbed his paw over his face, pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers. Apparently the wonder drug was getting to him too. "That sucks. I'm really . . . really sorry."

Judy shrugged. "Nah, I should have seen it coming. But . . ." She smiled weakly. "I've got my family, this job . . . you. I don't need anyone else. I know that . . . now."

The room was spinning uncontrollably. Too tired to fight it, Judy let vertigo consume her, closed her eyes, let her head roll onto Nick's shoulder.

"We'll be okay. You'll see." Gently, Nick let his head rest on hers. Judy wanted to cry. She couldn't. "I'm . . . I'm not gonna . . . disappoint you," said Nick.

The screen went black. Sleep consumed them both.