Chapter 13

Bright white lights appeared all throughout the woods like giant unblinking fireflies. They were accompanied by the grunts of those huge mammals he had seen earlier, and the snaps and cracks of branches as the moved around.

"Those lights are for the news helicopter Nuntius." Said Fallax, as if he had been reading his thoughts. "I want as many people to see this as possible."

Nuntius didn't reply. Instead, he listened for the thump of the helicopter's rotors. He could hear it just beyond the canopy of trees overhead, but he couldn't find it's light. Maybe it had been turned it off.

The plan, as it had been piecemeal explained to him, was to station a large number of the undead on the opposite side of the bridge hidden in the dense brush and uneven terrain on either side of the road. Very simple but he couldn't see how they would prevail against that awful machine he had seen.

Once the enemy had reached the bridge, Fuchs was going to try and talk them into surrendering with the offer that they would be placed high in the ranks of his and Fallax's army in return. If they did not accept, which Fuchs and Fallax figured would be the case, then the mammals they had stationed across the bridge would spring from their hiding places and commence to overwhelm them with numbers and brute strength and try to capture the tank with as little damage as possible as well as take its occupants alive.

Nuntius had watched as they had moved massive tree trunks into better positions for hiding, as well as setting up a roadblock on this side of the bridge just in case things went south. It was amazing how strong they were. They tried rigging the bridge to fall, but Nuntius's repairs were uneversable, and Fuchs had gotten quite mad when he learned that the bridge was going to be stable throughout the whole operation.

"Why didn't you plan it for daylight?" he asked after a while.

"Events didn't let things go to plan." Was the simple reply. Then he was asked a question.

"Why did you try to fly away? Why didn't you teleport?"

Nuntius thought for a second. "You know," he said. "I'm not really sure. I think I just wanted to see who was there while staying out of reach. I guess it didn't work out too well."

"It most assuredly did not." Then they went back to watching and listening to the darkness.

Since his little 'interview' as he had come to call it, Nuntius had been moved closer to where the battle would happen. Now, he was tied to a tree just off to the right of the bridge, which was no more than ten meters away.

"Relax Nuntius." Fuchs's accented voice said from the dark. "It won't be much longer. When your friends show up we will give them an option to surrender peacefully. If they're smart, they'll agree. Otherwise, it won't take long to neutralize them"

"Here they come." Fallax said quietly.

Fuchs made a gesture that was somehow seen by the creatures in the woods and immediately all the lights went out and everything went completely silent. All that is except for quite a few lights that now came on high up in the trees. A few tense minutes why by, and Nuntius was beginning to think the Fallax had been mistaken, but then he heard it. The sound of an engine and clanking metal. The clinking reminded him of chains trying to hold back some monster. Closer and closer it came until through the foliage he could make out two lights dancing up and down over the uneven ground.

"Get ready!" he heard the one called Fuchs say. Then he saw him walk out into the open space in front of the bridge with a large torch.

Beside him stood a cat of some sort. Nuntius had noticed him earlier but hadn't thought much of it. Now it seemed that this cat might be a batman of sorts, always hanging nearby ready to do Fuchs's bidding.

Within minutes the machine that was making all the noise hove into view across the bridge, it's light cutting swathes through the dark clearly illuminating Fuchs.

"Who are you?" a voice in accented English rang out from the machine.

"Ah, a fellow countryman!" Fuchs called back when he recognized the accent and the vehicle, then he switched to German. "I'm here to give you a special offer!"

There was silence for a few seconds, then the voice from the tank replied in German "We're listening."

"We would like to offer you and your crew the position of third in command of the Army of the Undead and help us to conquer this world. You will receive large sections of land and other rewards upon successful completion of that goal."

Not a bad speech Fuchs thought. He wished though that they could have come up with a better name for the army but neither Fuchs nor Fallax were that creative.

"We'll discuss it." Said the voice from the tank.

A few minutes of quiet went by. Fuchs acted nonchalant, but Nuntius could tell he was impatient and ready to move things along.

Finally, a different voice that Nuntius recognized as one of the officer's he had been working with came back and said; "No-can-do Buckaroo!"

For a second Fuchs was visibly startled at the change in the voice coming from the tank, but before he could say anything a deafening boom exploded from the tank's gun and the torso and head of the cat standing next to him disappeared in a mist of red that lingered in the air like a fog. The shell flew further into the woods and exploded farther behind in an explosion that looked weirdly pretty. Like an orange flower that bloomed for only a few seconds before being whipped away by a high wind.

Nuntius winced as the shock wave from the gun's muzzle hit him and Fuchs dove for cover and forgot all pretenses of formality. He let out a string of curses as he looked up from his hiding place in a ditch. Little streaks of light that he recognized as tracers from one of the machine guns zipped overhead. A few seconds later another boom issued from the tank.

The fight was on.

"Where is he?" Oster asked, impatience tinting his deep throaty voice. It was dark already and Nuntius was supposed to have been back by now.

"I don't know." Said Nick. "He didn't give you a time when he'd be back?"
"No. He did say something about a bridge though." Said Ulex. "Said he needed to strengthen it I think."

"Yeah, I'm the one who told him about it." Nick replied.

"Maybe he fell and got hurt or something." Judy said. "Why don't we go see if we can find him."

Nick laughed. "I doubt he fell and got hurt Carrots."
"Seriously though!" Judy exclaimed. "I think we should go check on him."

"We can take the tank." Oster cut in.

"Umm… would we ride inside with you guys?"

"Unless you want to ride on top outside, which would probably not be very safe if something was going on at the bridge." Said Dittmer. "That, and if we fired the gun your ears might burst." he added with a grin.

"Ick." Said Nick.

"Ick? Why do you say 'ick'?" asked Dittmer.

"Uh…" Nick had to think fast. He didn't want to risk insulting these powerful humans and causing them to turn of relations with them. Or worse, turn hostile all because he thought the idea of riding in that small box with them as rather disgusting. "Nothing, nothing. I was just thinking about our eardrums bursting."

Judy gave him a look that said she knew he was lying. Nick pretended not to see it.

Dittmer believed him though and laughed before saying "Just think about how gross things would be if you got shot with it. There'd be body parts everywhere."

This time, Both Nick and Judy grimaced.

Until now, Nick and Judy had avoided asking the humans how they had died, but now curiosity overcame Judy.

"We died fighting the Soviets." Oster said without a hint of sadness. He said it as if he was reading a cooking recipe. The other humans reacted the same way as if it was an everyday question.

"Who are they? And how though? Did they shoot you with a gun like that one?" she asked pointing at the tank's gun.

"A similar one." said Oster. "The Soviets are communists, people you wouldn't want around here. We were fighting their tanks. There were so many of them Dittmer almost didn't have to aim when he shot, just point in their general direction and he'd hit one. Eventually, two hit our vehicle and sent us sky high, and as you can see severely burning us in the process."

"Oh." Said Judy. "Did your side win?"

"I'm not sure." Oster said thoughtfully. "I hope so though."

"So, are we going to sit around waiting or are we going to find Nunts?" Nick asked changing the pensive mood that had set in.

"You know he doesn't like that nickname, Nick." Said Judy.

"But he ain't here Carrots. What he doesn't know won't hurt him."

"Humph." Said Judy. Sometimes Nick's old attitude from when he was on the streets showed through in varying degrees such as now. It was never anything major, but it still got on Judy's nerves. Nick seemed to sense this, Judy would usually catch a brief but smug smile on him whenever he got her dander up. Like now.

"Let's go find him." She said and before anyone could say anything she walked right up to the tank and hopped up on the front part, deftly avoided the humans sitting there, before climbing up onto the rounder thing on top. There, a hatch had been left open.

The humans, who had been taken completely by surprise, where never the less quick to react. The nearest, Dittmer, reached out and grabbed her foot. Judy let out an "eep!" and tried to kick him, but he was too strong.

"Don't go in there on your own little bunny." Dittmer said.

"Careful Dittmer." Oster cut in.

Judy gave up after another aborted attempted at escape.

"I'll let go if you promise not to go in until we say."

Judy meekly nodded that she wouldn't, and Dittmer let her go. Judy promptly sat down and started rubbing her ankle, a weird expression on her face. Dittmer acted as if nothing had happened.

Nick wanted to hit him for grabbing Judy, but he restrained himself. He was pretty sure he had meant well. Still, it was disconcerting.

"We should get going I guess." He said.

Oster nodded his agreement. "You two won't have much trouble fitting." He laughed. "Thank God you aren't our size, I don't think we'd be able to stuff you in!"

Getting into the tank was a bit awkward. Everyone but Ulex went in through the hatch on the turret, which meant they each went in according to where their stations were from front to back. Judy was in second, taking a cramped spot on the floor. Nick was fourth, taking a spot right below the gun breech.

"Hey, Nick!" Rimsky said when he had gotten in. "I'm putting you in charge of getting rid of spent shells. See that hole there?" he pointed to a hole about the size of a softball in the side of the turret, right above Nick's head.

"Yeah."

"Put the casings through there."

"Ok." Nick said.

"I could lose my job if I get caught." He thought as he looked around at the cramped turret. Then shook his head. Why on earth was he thinking about that right now? The years being married to Judy had caused him to start guessing about the morality of things he might not have even blinked an eye at before.

Then he wondered how he was going to put this in his report. Ugh. Sometimes this job was too much for him.

"You need me to do anything?" Judy asked from her spot near some mean looking giant cartridges. Things neither of them had ever seen outside of books.

"Not right now rabbit, but if we think of something we'll definitely let you know."

Inside, the smell of death was strong, but it was now mixed with another odor. That of diesel and old sweat. Nick wrinkled his nose and covered it with his paw. He could tell Judy could smell it too, but for some reason, it wasn't affecting her as much as him. Lucky.

"Everyone ready?" Oster asked after he had put on his headset.

There were affirmatives all around, and then Vaerst said "Starting the engine!" and seconds later a whine emanated from a comparted in the back, followed quickly by a deep throaty growl punctuated by coughs that eventually disappeared to be replaced by a not that unpleasant constant low rumble. It was accompanied by a sharp increase in the smell of diesel.

Nick watched as Dittmer took a shell from a rack of them beside him. He then opened the breach of the gun and smoothly shoved the shell in, then closed it up. The whole process had taken less than 10 seconds. Dittmer saw him watching.

"If things get busy, you'll get pretty fast yourself, because if you don't you risk getting killed."

Nick flattened his ears. "I uh, I'll remember that." He said.

"See this?" he pointed to another, smaller, gun right next to the big.

"If I start using this, you're going to have to start dancing to avoid them. The casings from this are very hot at first."

"Do I need to pick them up to?"

Dittmer laughed. "No, they'll be too many. Just let them rattle around, its kind of like music after a while. Oh, and that reminds me…" he turned around and opened a small hatch in the turret.

He rummaged around for a second before pulling out a large piece of cotton. He then tore it into four pieces and handed them to Nick and Judy.

"Put these in your ears. Unless you don't mind going deaf."

Nick regarded the two pieces of fluffy plant material the looked at Judy. She had already stuffed them into her ears, leaving little puffs of white against a pinkish background. Nick smiled, before doing the same to his.

"Good?" He vaguely heard Oster ask. He gave him a thumbs up.

"You?" Oster asked pointing at Judy.

Another thumbs up.

"Alright then. Alright Vaerst, let's get this thing moving. The faster we get there the better."

Nick felt a lurch that almost caused him to hit his head against the wall, but his reflexes were too quick.

"Careful there!" Rimsky said laughing.

"Thanks for the warning dude." Nick said sarcastically. Rimsky just laughed again.

"How fast can this thing go?" Nick asked.

"A whopping 34 k/ph on a road. On this ground, 23 max." Vaerst replied.

"Ugh." Said Nick.

"You know how far we got right?" Rimsky asked.

"Yup. Almost exactly 14 kilometers."

"Well then. You had better just settle down and try not to fall asleep."
Nick chuckled. "Ain't no way I'm going to fall asleep in here pal." He said.

"Good, we'd have to court marshal you anyway for dereliction of duty." Oster said.

Nick smiled. He wasn't quite sure what a court marshal was, but it sounded bad.

The ride to the bridge was uneventful if a little bumpy. It was as if the suspension on the box was nearly non-existent and he was quite grateful when they finally came to a stop. he barely had time to enjoy the stillness when he heard Oster ask;

"Is that an SS officer?"

"Affirmative sir." Rimsky replied. "It looks like he is trying to say something. There's one of those animals beside him too, wearing a red shirt and blue pants."

"I see him."

Oster thought for a second before saying "Keep your sight on the animal. I'm going to see what the SS man wants. If something happens pull the trigger. Got it?"

"Yes Sir!"

Nick watched as Oster undid the hatch and lifted himself until his head was completely out of the vehicle.

"Who are you?" Nick heard him say.

Barton circled the chopper over the forest canopy below. He had turned off the searchlight so that they could more clearly make out the lights they had spotted amongst the trees. The lights were seemed to be a loose cluster and were constantly moving around in no discernable pattern. Off to the east, he could make out another light, this one a bit fainter and moving determinedly in the direction of the other lights. The hair on the back of his neck prickled, and he knew something was about to go down, but what he had no idea.

All at once, all the lights in the cluster went out, to be replaced with a different set of white lights that Barton could tell were no longer on the ground but were now in the treetops, stationary.

"What on earth was that?" Winston's voice asked over the radio.

"No idea." Barton replied.

"I think something is about to happen." Said Winston a few seconds later. "Look."

Barton followed Winston's pointed finger out to the fainter lights that had been moving towards the cluster. They had stopped in a small clearing in which the dim shape of an old concrete bridge could be seen. Now, Barton could clearly make out the beams of two headlamps. Just behind the lamps, he could barely make out a faint grey outline.

"Is that what I think it is?" he asked.

"Yup! Something is definitely going to happen here." Winston replied. "It'd better start soon though, it's nearly 6:30."

As if on cue, Winston felt a vibration in against his leg. Awkwardly, he fished his phone out from his pocket to see that he had gotten a text from one of the producers back at the studio.

"The folks back at the station are wondering when we will start broadcasting." He said to Barton.

"There's nothing to broadcast yet." Barton told him.

"I know. Let's give it ten more minutes, if nothing happens then we can call it quits."

"Roger that."

Winston hoped against hope that wouldn't happen. If it did, he would be the laughing stock of the station for God knows how long. Not only that but requesting a time slot and not doing anything with it could also lose the company money, which in turn would not end up well for his paycheck and possibly his job.

Turning his attention back to the situation at hand, Barton noticed something standing at the end of the bridge in a pool of light created by the convergence of the two beams of light. After a second, he was able to figure out that it was a creature of some sort dressed in a sharp looking black uniform. Barton had no idea what type of mammal he was. He sure didn't look like anything he had ever seen. Even from 500 feet in a moving helicopter.

Beside the figure in black was a mammal that was much more recognizable. A cat. What kind specifically he couldn't tell, but it was wearing a red t-shirt and blue jeans. He stood just behind and to the left of the figure in black. They failed to spot another figure, just at the edge of the light, who was sitting with its back against a tree. Held there by rope.

For a few minutes, neither Winston nor Barton said anything. Barton slowly circled the clearing and watched as the figure seemed to talk animatedly. His mind drifted back to another time near the beginning of his career when he was following a police chase on the high-speed six-lane Highway 10 going towards the coast. Eventually, the criminal had wrecked while trying to take on off ramp. It had not been pretty, and Barton was pretty sure he had not survived. That experience had been exhilarating, especially since it was his first big assignment. The thrill of the chase was something he would never forget.

He was beginning to zone back in when without any warning a bright flash of orange exploded from the grey box and at the same time the cat disappeared in an explosion of red that slowly drifted out of the light cast by the box. The only thing left of him was the bottom half of his legs laying pointed in opposite directions on the ground. The figure in black immediately and with surprising swiftness dove out of sight into the brush.

"HOLY FREAKING HECK!" Barton yelled over the radio.

"TURN THE SEARCHLIGHT BACK ON!" Winston yelled just as loudly.
Barton quickly turned it back on and focused it on the box which he could now plainly see was being swarmed by large mammals dressed in the tattered remnants of clothes, some even with hats that looked like fedoras and porkpies. The box flashed again and two of the creatures in front of it fell, minus their heads. A third that had been on the box and standing right at the end of its gun had simply disappeared, leaving behind nothing more than a weird shiny black smudge on the box.

"I'm turning the camera on!" Winston said.

"Roger!" Barton replied and dimmed the searchlight a smidgen.

Winston picked up a microphone from a cubby beside his chair and switched it on. Then he switched a small camera mounted on the choppers control panel like a webcam.

"Good evening Zootopia! This is Winston Hardman with Zootopia Action News and today I am with Henry Barton flying over a desolate forest on the far east side of town."
Winston pushed a button on a remote control he had in his pocket, switching the camera feed from the one pointing at his face to the one mounted outside the chopper.

"As you can see, we have located the Grey Box, which appears to be under assault from a large group of unidentified mammals."

Bogo sighed and propped his feet up on the coffee table. It had been a long day filling out the seemingly never-ending forms and calling up city officials asking about grants and charity events and numerous other odds and ends.

Bogo kept his small house meticulously clean. Every week he would dust all major surfaces, especially the TV, and then vacuum the floor. The only place he could mop was the kitchen, which had tile. However, that was about to change because he had a flooring company coming in next week to put hardwood floors down. It was a bit expensive, but he had been saving and planning this for a while and he was not very enthusiastic about carpet, so it was well worth it. Plus, he was going to take a small vacation to the country while they did the renovation since.

Today though had been a bit more hectic than usual. Actually, the whole week had been, yet he had still managed to keep up on most of the chores. Now, he wanted to sit back and relax with one of his favorite drinks, banana milkshake, and a sandwich. Ever since he was a little tike, his mom would make a banana milkshake just a little heavy on the cocoa side and a sandwich when he got home from school. He never could make them taste quite as good as his mom, but he had to admit, he had gotten pretty good at it. Then he'd go sit on the couch and watch something on TV, usually COPS once he got older until he was finished eating. Nowadays he still had the same routine, but now it was after work and sometimes he was too tired to actually finish even a 30-minute episode of something. Today he was going to watch another episode of Criminal Minds. He was only on the third episode, but already his favorite character was Gideon.

He was just sat down with his plate and cup nestled comfortably in his lap, the cold of the milkshake giving him little goosebumps, and was about to hit play when his phone rang. Bogo sighed heavily. He had left his cell phone just out of reach on the coffee table. With a disgruntled look, he dislodged the food from its place and set them on the table. Then reached for his phone. The caller ID said Fangmeyer. Everyone in the department had everyone else's phone number, just in case they needed to get in contact with one another while on duty but didn't want to use the radio which happened quite a bit. But Fangmeyer wasn't on duty right now, and neither was Bogo, so this was a completely unexpected call.

"Now what the heck could he want?" Bogo thought to himself.

He hit answer. "Fangmeyer? You ok?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine chief. I was calling because you need to turn to channel 7. There's somethin' going on over there."

As soon as he heard the words 'channel 7' Bogo new what was up, and a sick feeling began creeping into his stomach. Slowly, with a weird sense of both dread, curiosity, and anger at Winston somehow getting the information early, Bogo reached for the TV remote and changed the channel.

"You still there chief?" Fangmeyer's voice said from the phone.

"Yes yes." Bogo said quickly.

"You see it?"
"Yes." He said again. he felt dizzy.

On the screen caught in the giant eye of a searchlight was a fight going on between the unmistakable grey box and innumerable mammals that for all intents and purposes looked like they were already dead. They were swarming the box, which every eight seconds, like clockwork, would spout a massive jet of flame and smoke from its revolving gun, obliterating and maiming undead mammals left and right. suddenly he noticed that his phone beeping, indicating another call. He looked at it and saw it was Mayor Lionheart.

"I have to go Fangmeyer, the mayor is calling. Get everyone not on duty to the station now and wait for me to give instructions."

"Yes sir." Fangmeyer said, then hung up.

Bogo accepted the mayor's call.

"Good evening sir." He said.

"Bogo," the mayor interrupted, 'Explain what I'm watching on channel 7."

Bogo swallowed, "Well sir…"

"Fire at will!" Oster yelled through the headset.

Rimsky didn't need to be told twice. He pulled the trigger as fast as Dittmer could get shells into the breach. He didn't even have to aim, as targets were only a meter or two away, half the time not even that.

After Dittmer had loaded a shell, Nick would have to duck low to the ground to avoid the recoil from the gun. When the breach was opened, and the shell ejected, he would pick it up off the ground and shove it through a hole in the side of the turret.

The smell of gunpowder was intense enough to eradicate the smell of rotting flesh given off by the crew and the noise was deafening. Each shot left a ringing in his ears that made it hard to think, despite the thick cotton wads that had been shoved in. He could only imagine how loud it must be for Judy with her very sensitive rabbit ears.

"Get us onto that bridge Ulex. At least we'll have our flanks protected." He barely heard Oster say.

"Yes sir!" Ulex replied, and immediately he shoved the throttle forward and quickly steered them the last six or so meters to the middle of the bridge, where he locked both tracks, then leaned back in his seat, his skin glistening. There wasn't anything else for him to do but watch what little he could see of the fight through the periscope used for driving when the hatches were closed. Outside, all he could see were black figures. They were covering all over the tank.

Everyone inside could hear them moving about, banging with fists and things they picked up. Suddenly, a series of loud BANGs came from his right. Ulex looked over to see Vaerst holding the grip of the machine gun and staring at him. Unnaturally large amounts of smoke drifted from the receiver.

"They bent the barrel!" he said excitedly. "They bent the barrel! I can't fire anymore!"

Oster cursed. They must have hit it with something. Now they'd have to be extra nimble with the turret in order to cover everything.

A few more tense minutes went by. Dittmer would load, Rimsky would fire, and Nick would eject the spent shell casings. Once he got a hang of it, it was actually a little fun but also tiring. Not only that but after a while, the heat of the casings was beginning to make his paws burn. Judy was sitting quietly at her spot near some ammunition, watching and listening.

But most good things eventually come to an end and the first signs of trouble came when Rimsky could suddenly no longer turn the turret.

Oster noticed the sudden cessation of movement.

"Rimsky, why'd you stop the turret?"

"I, uh, can't move it." Rimsky said, hit the button that would make the turret turn left then right. A high pitched whine came from a small electric motor that turned the turret, but that was all. No movement. "They must have jammed it." He said simply. If the crew could have paled, they would have. As it was, it seemed like the air inside suddenly got a few degrees hotter.

"Try the crank." Oster said.
Rimsky was on it before being told and was furiously turning the hand crank. It would take 188 turns of the hand crank to turn the turret 360 degrees. Now though, it was all Rimsky could do to get the wheel to turn once. He gave up after three exhausting turns.

"It's no use. I don't know what they did, but I can't turn it."

Judy, seeing her opportunity to be useful piped up with "Let me go check on it!""No!" Nick said quickly. It's too dangerous out there. I won't let you."

Judy didn't object.

"Ulex, get us out of here." Oster said.

The vehicle jerked back about two and a half meters, then it suddenly started slewing around, like when you back a car up and turn the wheel to the right. Ulex let off of the gas.

"Now what?" Oster said exasperatedly.

"Not sure sir." Ulex. "Maybe a track came off?"

"Sir," Rimsky cut in urgently as he peered through the aiming scope. "They've stopped coming from the front. I can't shoot them anymore."

Oster did a 360 in the cupola on the turret and verified what Rimsky had said. Bulky shadow figures surrounded the vehicle, which in its haste to back away had gotten off the bridge and narrowly avoided backing into a ditch when it swung around. He also discovered what had caused Ulex to lose control. The right track had come off. He could see it stretching into the darkness in front of the vehicle. On the bridge, and all around the vehicle were the dark lumps of the bodies of the creatures that had been shot. The ones in the light oozed a black liquid. The front of the tank itself was a mass of black goo.

"How the hell…" Oster thought.

"You're right Ulex, the right track has come off."
"How'd they manage that?" Rimsky asked.

"Like he would know that?" Nick said, surprising himself.

Everyone in the turret gave Nick a weird look. Nick blanched and mumbled "sorry."

"Right!" said Dittmer. "So, what do we do now?"

Before anyone could answer, loud banging started on the commander's hatch, the one most of them had used to get in.

"They're trying to get in." Oster whispered. "They won't though. There's no way to undo the latching mechanism from the outside."

After while the ones doing the banging came to that conclusion as well and all went quiet.

"Do you think they left?" Rimsky asked quietly?

"They haven't." Judy said. I can still hear them.

If it had been anybody else, Nick would have been surprised that she could still hear much of anything, much less the faint movements of things outside the metal confines of the box. This was Judy Wilde though and Nick had learned never to underestimate her.

Then suddenly the turret gave a groan, and slowly started tilting up from the front.

"Fire the gun Rimsky!" Dittmer screamed.

Rimsky pulled the trigger and the gun roared. Immediately the turret dropped back into place, and they could hear scuffling from outside. A little while later, the gun barrel started elevating on its own. Rimsky fired again, but this time, all that happened was a brief pause, then it continued, gaining speed as it went.

Before they knew it, the front of the turret had risen high enough to allow one of the creatures they had seen outside to stick its head through. Dittmer and Rimsky jerked back in surprise and confusion at the sight of a de-horned and ghastly looking ox of some kind. Oster reacted a little more calmly and pulled out the pistol he wore and quickly empty four or five rounds into it. The ox dropped, its head hanging inside the vehicle leaking a strange viscous black fluid that smelled like damp earth. Hooves that looked like hands appeared around the rim of the turret and accelerated its lifting. Finally, the turret was flipped off the vehicle, making a resounding clang as it fell.

Surrounding them was a plethora of large mammals, some with horns and the remnants of them and wearing the tattered remains of the clothes they were buried in. They were all illuminated by a bright white light that Nick could tell by the sound was coming from a helicopter overhead. The light wavered a bit, and that's when Nick saw another human standing on the box. He had his hands behind his back and looked like he was critiquing someone's golf swing. His countenance matched that of the Used-to-be mammals around him. It looked like he had been struck by lightning, and he was most certainly dead. However, the clothes, or rather uniform, he was wearing was immaculate. His eyes were not black like those of the dead mammals though. Whenever the light from the chopper hit them just right they would give a bright blue glint like they were made of glass, causing Nick to involuntarily shiver.

Beside him stood another human. This one though was different though. For one, it was not dead. his face was a pale white and in perfect health. Yet what really stood out were the white wings that stuck out from his back like those of a falcon.

For a second all was quiet. Then the winged human said:

"Well if it isn't Officer Wilde and Officer Hopps."

Nick's jaw nearly hit the ground.

A batman is a servant to an officer. This word was in use long before the Batman we know today came about.

For the life of me, I couldn't find anything about how the turret of the Panzer four was attached. Was it held by gravity or bolted? It's possible that I missed something that said it was bolted, but for the sake of this story I will say that it was held by gravity.

I want to make this a two-part story. I haven't decided if this will be that last chapter of this part though. Either way, come May 27, I won't be able to work on it for nearly a year. Before then, I might be able to get another chapter out, not sure though.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and if you have any comments or questions or concerns I would love to hear them. Thanks for reading!

Signing off,

Erwin.