Zig Zag is Copyright © Max Black Rabbit. Sabrina, Darke Katt and R.C. are Copyright © Eric W. Schwartz. James Sheppard, Marvin Badger, Rhonda Badger, Yohni, Alexi, Michael, Esteban, Mia, Wanda Vixen and Tamara Rabbit are Copyright © James Bruner. Jean LeBrun, Francois LeBrun, Marie LeBrun, Gabrielle Ryder, Theodore Bigglesworth-Farthington von Salzburg the Third, Roxanne Bigglesworth-Farthington von Salzburg, Timothy Bigglesworth-Farthington von Salzburg, Malcolm Grazer, Doctor Lupin, Doctor Fox Jones, William Pongo, Captain Archibald, Peter Spermophilus, Miranda Spermophilus, Leo Leon, Vincent Leon, Abu-Yusuf, Sergeant Otetiani, Lieutenant Black, Julie Black, Miriam Redtail, Lizzy Doe, Emma Grey, Rowena Spyke, Jeremy Mustela, William White, Hannah Vulpes, Richard Terry, Hantaywee Twofeathers, Professor Nutkin, Professor Moose Nicholson, Professor Werner Schnauzer, Professor Erica Belge, Charles 'Mouse' Mombay, Ulf Søndergård, Paul Donkey, Harley Davidson (Not the motorcycle manufacturer, obviously) and Pethouse Magazine is © Joan Jacobsen, 2005.
Legal Notice: This story is Copyright © 2005 by Joan Jacobsen. This story may not be sold or used for commercial profit in any form or fashion. This story may not be modified in any way. This story may not be posted on a mirror site or any other Internet site without the written permission of the author. This story may not be distributed on print, magnetic, electrical or optical mediums.
Permission to use characters that are Copyright other individuals was obtained prior to the appearance of said characters.
The author, Joan Jacobsen, hereby asserts moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
This is an independent work of fiction with no connection whatsoever to Max Black Rabbit, Eric W. Schwartz, E.S. Productions or James Bruner and is in no way meant to imply any connection with Max Black Rabbit, Eric W. Schwartz, E.S. Productions, or James Bruner. This story contains characters created by Max Black Rabbit, Eric W. Schwartz, James Bruner, Tigermark and Silver Coyote. Events and characters occurring in this story should not be considered part of the storylines for either 'Zig Zag', 'Sabrina Online' or 'Sabrina Online - The Story'.
In fact, as far as 'Zig Zag', 'Sabrina Online', 'Sabrina Online - The Story' and 'Zig Zag the Story' are concerned, this story does not exist. The artists disavow any knowledge of and do not officially sanction the events in this story.
'Infamy', part 2
Miriam swallowed. The voice behind her had sounded very meek. Even pained. It was Emma's voice. She'd tried to steel herself in the few split seconds before she turned around, but as she did so, she realized that no matter how much time she had to prepare herself...it wouldn't have been enough.
Emma was laying sideways on the couch, her legs pulled up in front of her. Miriam hadn't been able to see her on entering the room for the back of the couch. To say she was bruised would be a severe understatement. The mink had black, swollen lumps on her face and down her throat. Her paws were shaking, despite hugging her knees.
The vixen blinked and sat down by her friend. She reached out but stopped herself...before touching. Somehow, she didn't think Emma wanted to be touched uninvited. Her head was spinning. What she'd seen on the television screens, coming home, battled with what had apparently happened to Emma. She hated herself for it. Emma needed her. That was here and now. But...the towers were burning. She couldn't get the images out of her mind. Images of small...tiny black spots, moving rapidly down the sides of the towers. The awful, terrible knowledge...that each of those little black spots was a living, breathing fur. For another couple of seconds.
Then...death.
Now Emma needed her help, and she didn't know where to start.
"What happened?" she asked, weakly. She wanted to kick herself. It was such a foolish thing to ask. Any fur with half a brain could figure out what had happened.
Emma curled up tighter on herself. "'m so sorry," she whispered, barely audibly. "didn't mean to get blood on your couch...didn't mean to..."
Miriam looked at the couch. There were bloodstains on the pillows. Not a lot and easily concealed by turning the pillows over, even if it probably wouldn't wash out completely. Again, she wanted to reach out to Emma but she wasn't sure if it was a good idea.
"Emma...do...do you want a hug? Please, tell me what's happened to you? Did someone hit you?" she asked. Deep down, she already made the connection between 'someone' and 'Jeremy'. She wanted to kick herself for that too. She had no proof of it.
The mink curled up tighter still. She was nothing more than a furry ball on the couch, even trying to cover herself with her tail. Something wasn't quite right with that tail either.
Miriam swallowed. It was broken. The vixen didn't want to imagine the pain of it. Instead, she finally decided to take charge of the situation. She reached down and gently put a paw on Emma's arm, stroking it gently. She didn't speak for a long time. She was still trying to fight off the images in her head. All she could do was try to be there for a friend who was clearly badly hurt.
"Please tell me who hurt you?" she said after her pause. Very quietly. "Come on, sit up so I can give you a hug. I'll get a hold of an ambulance..."
"No...no please, don't call the ambulance...please. It's my own fault," Emma whispered and sat upright, slowly. Sitting up, the beating looked even worse.
"How did you get in, in the first place?" Miriam said, putting her arms around her friend in a very careful embrace. "And I am going to have to call them. Your tail is obviously broken and you've been beaten up. You're badly hurt, Emma...I have to call 911."
Emma coughed, resting her head on Miriam's shoulder. "It's my own fault...I'm sorry...please don't tell him you know. Please don't. He'll just hurt me again."
"Is this Jeremy's doing?"
"Yes."
"That prick. I'll..." Miriam began, then stopped as she felt Emma tense up "...do nothing at all, except call 911 in a minute. It's your choice. But you can't let him do this to you. When did this start?"
"Almost right after I met him. He can't control his temper. He always apologizes afterwards. He hates himself for it, he cries about it...he feels terrible, Miriam. He can stop this, I know he can. He's a really sweet guy..." Emma whispered.
"I'll do a lot for you, Emma...but I won't sit here and let you make excuses for this kind of abuse on his behalf. No way. He's hurt you."
"Swear to me, Miriam...swear to me you won't let Jeremy know I said this. He'd only get angry again," the mink whimpered, breaking down in tears again at the thought.
Miriam sighed and rubbed her friend's back. She wanted to do something, but the problem was that unless Emma pressed charges, there was nothing she could do...and the mink didn't sound like pressing charges was the foremost thing on her mind. All the vixen could do, she realized, was offer support and get an ambulance. Emma needed medical attention, no matter what she felt she had to say about it. When Fox came home, she'd talk to him.
She wanted to cry. She very badly wanted to cry...but she knew she couldn't. Reaching out to her side, she picked up the phone with one paw, keeping her other arm around her friend. Calling 911 wasn't hard...even with one paw. She waited for the line to connect.
"Hello, my name is Miriam Redtail. I'm sitting in my living room with my friend, Emma Grey, who's been very badly beaten up. We need an ambulance..."
Malcolm opened his eyes. He was looking up at the ceiling of the bus. It was painful...merely to keep his eyes open. There was a lot of noise. Everywhere. He could see blood on some of the seats. That was probably because of the shattered windows. Every single window in the bus had been broken...he was laying on the shards, but he wasn't sure if he'd been cut, or how badly.
Whatever had happened had been really serious. His head was hurting, but he wasn't sure if he'd been injured. He had to get back on his hooves. The thought struck him that he'd miss his meeting with the critics. He blinked...then laughed. The absurdity of even thinking about that struck him. It didn't hurt to laugh. At least...not much. That probably meant he was either hurt extremely badly or he'd gotten away almost without a scratch. Being careful where he put his paws down, because of all the broken glass, he tried to sit up. It wasn't a problem. It didn't hurt.
His stomach was darkened by something. His T-shirt was a light gray, but it had turned dark reddish over his stomach.
Malcolm swallowed. Trembling, he brought a paw very carefully to the area to feel. It seemed...okay. Maybe it was someone else's blood, he told himself. Sighing, he closed his eyes for a moment. The noise outside was nearly unbearable now. And he was still dazed. It was as if his world started coming into sharper focus.
He wished it hadn't.
Turning his head and getting up, he saw an arm slouched over the back of a seat, further down the bus. It seemed...that everyone else had gotten out. There was some kind of panic going on outside. He wasn't quite sure what it was all about. There was debris...at least he thought it was debris...on the street. Smashed glass everywhere. He shook his head and tried to get to his hooves. They supported him, but his world was spinning. His stomach wasn't hurting. It was confusing, and he brought his paw to the sticky fabric again. It felt sticky. Then he sniffed his fingers and sighed in relief.
Cherry-juice.
Something smashed into the street, further down the road. Towards the WTC-building. It snapped Malcolm out of his thoughts and he made for the door...then stopped. He looked back to the seat where he'd seen the arm. Outside, furs were running around in complete confusion. It looked like an anthill that someone had put a boot to. It was absolute pandemonium out there. He could see rescue vehicles further along. That would be where he had to go. Right down there...they would be able to help. Explain what was going on. Sighing he checked himself one final time for cuts and found only minor ones, before walking up to the seat which was still inhabited. A young, male feline was slumped in the seat. He was bleeding from a head wound and looked deeply unconscious. Normally, Malcolm would not have picked him up, since he knew head-trauma could get worse if the wounded was moved around, but somehow...he knew this situation left no choice.
"Please kid...don't let your neck or spine be snapped," he whispered and reached in, as carefully as he possibly could lifting the feline into his arms.
The cat couldn't be older than fifteen, maybe sixteen years of age. He was still breathing...but shallowly.
Malcolm blinked a few times and slowly walked down the stairs out of the bus. He was nearly knocked over by two running policefurs once outside. He hadn't been able to see what was going on from inside the bus. Now...the terrifying truth hit him squarely in the face.
Further down the street, the majestic towers of the World Trade Center...were ablaze. Not at the bottom but far up. Furs were fleeing away from it. Others were milling about like they had no idea what was going on. A few...all uniformed...tried to get closer. Police. Firefighters.
Malcolm swallowed. He nearly dropped the youth in his arms. Both towers were burning. It couldn't be an accident. The realization that if the bus hadn't been a few minutes late, they'd have been right next to the towers when...
No, he couldn't bear thinking it. Cars were overturned near the buildings. A couple had been set ablaze...maybe by falling, burning material, maybe for some other reason he couldn't think of. There was a lot Malcolm couldn't think of at that moment. One of them was how to make his legs work. Who would do such a thing? Who would cause that kind of destruction? The United States wasn't at war...was it? Somehow, Malcolm realized that if they United States hadn't been at war before...the country certainly was now.
Again, someone bumped into the stallion and snapped him out of his thoughts. A squat, canid policefur looked up at him.
"Sorry. Din't see ya...'ey, you're wounded sir. An'...who's the kid?" the officer asked, sounding like he was half dazed himself.
"I'm...I'm not hurt too badly I think. I don't know who the kid is...he was on the bus. I was...on the bus...I was...I..." Malcolm tried. Tears began to roll down his cheeks. He couldn't stop them. He was shaking.
"Come with me, sir...we'll getcha to a paramedic," the policefur said and put a paw on Malcolm's back, gently leading him towards the rescue-vehicles.
The stallion didn't protest...just allowed himself to be led.
The mood of Copenhagen was extremely strange. The streets were quiet. Furs talking to one another did so quietly and with serious expressions on their faces. A few had been crying. Gabrielle was still badly shook up, but she was at least calmer than right after the news of the attack on the World Trade Center had hit her. Yohni was feeling worse by the second. At first, she had been shocked and upset, but the massive seriousness hadn't struck her until ten minutes later. Then, her knees had given way and Gabrielle had needed to literally catch her before she collapsed.
"It means war, Gabby..." she whispered, for the tenth time in as many minutes.
Gabrielle just nodded. "Come on...we're nearly there. We'll find Ulf and he'll be able to help us figure out what to do. He'll know where to go."
Yohni nodded. She rubbed her face and tried to cheer up. Hard as it seemed. It was terrible to think about...and downright impossible to understand. Getting back to the hotel was the best thing she and Gabrielle could do right now. For a moment, she hated not being able to understand what everyone they passed was saying. Somehow, the looks on everyone's faces told her they were all talking about the same thing.
Of course, no one could tell there were two Americans amongst them, just from appearances.
Gabrielle stopped and put a paw on Yohni's shoulder. She pointed, down the street, gritting her teeth.
Two cars were headed their way. Horns honking, four or five young furs hanging out the windows, waving flags and shouting at the top of their lungs. Gabrielle didn't recognize the flag but it was obviously not the Danish one. She'd seen that enough times that she wouldn't forget it. This was very different. A tricolor, in green, black, white, the stripes horizontal rather than vertical. A large red triangle inserted at one end of the flag broke the normal tricolor design. She had no idea what nation it belonged to, but the scenario was tasteless beyond all recognition.
Yohni growled and looked around to see how everyone else reacted.
Not well.
More than one fur stopped what he or she was doing, staring at the two cars. A few shouted at the young furs hanging from the windows. Neither femme needed to understand Danish to understand exactly what was being said, either. Obscenities always had an international sound to them.
A taxi left the curb...sped up and swerved across the driving lane, placing itself in the way of the two cars. Hitting the brakes, the drivers managed to stop before colliding. A gigantic badger wearing a fez-like hat got out of the taxi, while the two cars emptied of youngsters. Within seconds, the street was resounding with angry shouting.
"What's going on?" Gabrielle asked, looking at Yohni, hoping the mongoose had managed to figure things out more clearly than herself.
"I have no idea but that is starting to look ugly," the shorter femme responded. "What the Hell are they thinking? On a day like today?"
A voice from next to the two of them, almost apologetic, piped up. "Excuse me, ladies...are you...American?"
Gabrielle looked to her side and looked at a female otter. She didn't look to be older than 18. She was wringing her paws and looking like she regretted speaking up in the first place.
"Yeah...we are, Miss. I'm sorry, but I don't understand what's going on," the bronco said. Perhaps she could get some answers this way.
The otter nodded and sighed. "I figured. I'm...I'm so terribly sorry about what's happened. I don't...I mean...how can any civilized fur..." she began then shook her head. "That's just the thing, isn't it? Those who did that are not civilized furs."
"I think that's a given!" Yohni exclaimed, then looked back to the street. More furs had joined in. The youngsters with the flags were all but surrounded. The badger in the multi-colored fez was still arguing loudly with them.
"The noisy ones...the ones with the flags...they're second or third generation refugees. That flag is Palestinian...they were shouting anti-American slogans...about how America had brought it on themselves and how Zionism would fall and..." the otter said and sighed. "Idiots. If they feel that way, they have no place in the west anyway. Their parents ran for their lives and this is how they thank us for our hospitality. By praising murderers??"
Gabrielle cracked her knuckles. "You're telling me that these furs...are shouting that what happened in New York today was good?" she growled.
The otter nodded and looked down. "It's shameful. I'm so sorry you had to see this. Most of those who come here are decent furs, who need help...and then there are the real idiots like these ones."
Yohni put a calming paw on Gabrielle's arm. "I know what you're thinking...don't. Just don't, Gabrielle. We don't want the local police to get involved because you punched one of these arses to Kingdom Come."
"I don't think I have to...look?" Gabrielle said, coldly and nodded towards the scene in the middle of the street.
The fez-wearing badger said something to the leading youngster, a black clad fur looking from a distance to be a jackal, and got shoved backwards against his car, hard. He regained his balance quickly and landed a flat paw to the side of the younger fur's face, taking him clean off his feet.
Knives were drawn.
"This is going to end with murder," Yohni said and swallowed.
"I don't think so...look down there!" the otter said, sounding relieved. She pointed towards the corner where two cars had appeared. The word 'Politi' was printed on the sides of each vehicle.
"I hope that means what I think it means," the mongoose said, looking up at Gabrielle.
The equine nodded. "I think there's a fair chance that's the cops," she said.
Something else was happening in the throng around the three cars. More shouting. It was impossible to see what was going on anymore. The sound of someone getting punched repeatedly was unmistakable though, and then the sound of something being slammed against metal. Like the hood of the car. A lot of shouting was going on but neither Yohni or Gabrielle could make heads or tails of it. The otter next to them looked relieved.
"A cop in civilian. Talk about a stroke of luck. I guess he's the one who's called for backup so fast," she said and looked up at Gabrielle. "I'd...better move on. I'm so sorry...I know it sounds really stupid but...I hope everything will work out, somehow."
Gabrielle nodded and managed a smile and a wave as the otter headed off down the street.
"I wonder what was up with that fur with the fez...?" Yohni asked after another moment. The situation in the middle of the street was defusing rapidly with the arrival of four more policefurs...all uniformed.
"I guess it meant not everyone from that part of the world agreed with that show of exuberance..." Gabrielle said, quietly. "Come on...let's find Ulf..."
Yohni nodded and followed her girlfriend, taking her paw.
"Hey, it's Lizzy's and Leo's automated answering machine. Aren't you incredibly happy you reached this marvel of 20th century technology, designed solely to give you an aneurysm from sheer annoyance? Leave a message after the bleep and we'll get back to you..."
The cheerful voice of Leo Leon coming over the phone was enough to make tears well up in Miriam's eyes. The vixen didn't have the capacity to even smile after all that had happened so far that day. Swallowing back her tears, she tried her best to keep a steady voice.
"Lizzy? Leo? If...if you're there, please pick up the phone. It's Miriam, I have to talk to one of you. It's urgent...it's...good grief, what isn't urgent on a day like this?" she wheezed, realizing it was hopeless to fight back her emotions.
It was like holding back the tide with her bare paws. She wanted Fox to be there. To hold her and make her feel everything would be okay, but somehow, she wasn't sure even he could do that anymore. She wondered if anything would ever really be okay again. Somehow, it seemed like the end of all things. At least of all things good. She desperately needed one of her friends to pick up the phone.
"Lizzy? Leo? Please....please pick it up..." she whispered.
The line was established. "Hey Miriam...it's Leo," the voice at the other end said. An emotionally drained voice.
Miriam swallowed. All of the sudden, she didn't know what to say. "I'm...I'm sorry," she finally managed to say. "I'll...call back some...some other time."
"No Miriam...please. Tell me what it is. I'm sorry for the way I sound," Leo said at the other end. "I can't believe what's happened, that's all. I'm still not sure if...if I'll wake up in a few hours and it'll all just be a terrible dream."
"I know exactly how you feel. I wish Fox would come home but...he can't. He's got to be on standby in a situation like this. Crisis treatment...if someone has a loved on in New York. If...if someone here in Columbus has lost a loved one. I can't get a hold of him right now...and I really need a hug, Leo..." Miriam said, her voice falling so low it was barely a hoarse whisper.
Leo waited for the vixen to recover a little. She really seemed to be in a bad state. Looking over his shoulder at the living room, he realized Lizzy was hit just as hard by what was going on. He felt absolutely helpless. The size of the events that were going on was so overwhelming any one fur became small and insignificant. His head dropped. He'd always wanted to be 'ordinary'. Just like everyone else, without the responsibility that his parents had in their everyday lives. He didn't feel he was up to it and it wasn't the kind of life he wanted to live anyway. But right now, he didn't just feel like 'anyone else'. He felt unimportant.
"You want to come down here for the night, Miriam? Leave a note for Fox, telling him where you are. I think we could all really use some company," he finally said, into the receiver. "I know it's a bit of a trip but...I don't think you should be alone at this time."
"I think...I think that's a good idea, Leo...thank you. I'll come by. I found...out what happened to Emma. You remember how she looked at Jean's party?" the vixen said.
"I think it'll be some time before I forget. Must've been a Hell of a tumble over that car door," Leo said, quietly. Even if it was a painful topic, it was something else than burning towers and dying furs.
"Car door my foot, Leo...Jeremy did that to her. She sat here on my couch only half an hour ago and told me that. She looked like someone had run her over with a steamroller. I had to call the ambulance. She made me swear I wouldn't go to Jeremy about it but she said nothing about anyone else."
Leo felt his mind reel. So far, he'd managed to stay reasonably on top of everything. Shocked and stunned, certainly, but at least he was managing to keep a grip on himself. Now, he felt it slip. Tears that had wanted to come out since he saw the first images on TV had been repressed. He knew he had to stay calm, for Lizzy's sake, but now...it wasn't possible to hold them back anymore. "Good God..." was all he could whisper.
"I'll tell you more when I get over there. We've got to figure out...some way of helping her. I know it's not the right day to say something like that," Miriam said from the other end of the phone. She sounded very tired again.
"No...no you're right. We have to. And maybe the prospect of...helping someone will do some good. Please, Miriam, come on over," the lion said, clearing his throat. It took every bit of willpower he had to force his voice to remain steady. He could do nothing about the tears.
They ended the conversation and hung up. Leo turned around and looked at Lizzy. The doe was sitting on the couch, looking at her trembling paws like her world was coming apart. She was weeping...without a sound. Large tears simply rolling down the length of her face, dripping off her nose to land to the floor.
"I've spent my life, since I was a teenager...hating capitalism, Leo," she said.
Her voice was barely audible, but Leo hurried over and sat down. It was the first words out of her for over an hour. The lion slipped an arm around his girlfriend and pulled her close, just holding her.
"I know. It's okay. You never wanted anything like this," he said, reassuringly.
"Those towers have stood for me as...the biggest symbol of how some furs would make themselves wealthy and powerful at the expense of others. How the rich elite would keep the downtrodden masses downtrodden...but I never...ever...ever wanted to see something like this. I wanted that wealth to be shared. For everyone to have an equal chance. America doesn't work like that today. Today, furs don't have equal chances. Some are born to live in squalor and poverty, without a single realistic chance to rise above it. But...but this? This, Leo?? Who would do something so bestial?" Lizzy whispered.
Leo started to realize what was going on inside the doe's head. It scared him and he knew he had to stop it. She couldn't blame herself. It could only lead to disaster. He stroked the doe's back and kissed her hair gently. "I don't know. Terrorists, probably. Something with no respect for life at all. Lizzy...listen to me. I love you. And just because you've seen the towers as a symbol of something you don't agree with politically, it doesn't make you bad. Look at you. You're crying, you're just as shocked as I am...would you react that way if you had any sympathies for those who did this?"
Lizzy swallowed hard, shook her head and hid her face against Leo's chest. Her shoulders started to shake and she cried, bitterly.
All Leo could do to comfort her was to hold her and keep whispering that he loved her.
The doors to the studio opened. Marvin entered. He walked oddly. Jerkily. Like someone had kneecapped him. He turned on the lights and swallowed. There were furs on the set. Zig Zag sat in the director's chair, looking anything but pleased with the fact that the shot had just been ruined by the extra lighting. On set, the actors and actresses looked at one another, confused, not sure what was going on. Marvin looked like someone had sucker-punched him, and no one could remember seeing the former college football star looking that way. He was normally the one to punch others.
Zig Zag turned around and looked at her majordomo. "CUT! Okay, Esteban, get the camera set up to start over again," she said, sounding annoyed. "Look, Marvin, I know we don't normally start filming as early in the morning as we did today but we have a long and tight schedule ahead of us. You were supposed to be here nearly an hour ago! And what's with the light? I hope you have a really go...whoa...easy there, Marv...what's happened to you?" she asked, instantly regretting her irritated tone of voice. It didn't exactly take a Ph.D. in psychology to tell something was definitely wrong with the badger.
Esteban nodded and sighed, getting to work on setting the camera up all over again. It nearly took a college degree to work a movie-camera. The days where it was simply a roll of film in a black box on a tripod were long since past.
"..." was all Marvin managed to respond to Zig Zag's question. His eyes looked the size of saucers. His paws where shaking like leaves in an autumn gale as he pointed at the door.
The skunk all but flew out of her chair. "I don't think we're going to do any more shooting until later. What's up? What's happened to you?"
"S...Sabrina ha...hasn't come to w...work today, Zig," the badger managed to stutter.
Zig Zag went cross-eyed. "Erhm...Marvin...make sense, please? The fact that Sabrina has called in sick is hardly a reason for you to react this way..." she said.
Marvin just shook his head and opened his mouth to speak again. Once more, no words came out. The shaking of his paws was spreading, however, to the rest of him. Zig Zag didn't like this. The badger was stronger than anyone she knew. He never buckled under pressure, he never complained about workloads even when they got really bad, he never even seemed to be bothered by it. If anyone at the studio felt bad, he'd be the first one there to comfort and support. He was the bedrock of ZZ Studios and Zig Zag often reminded herself that she'd never have been able to make the place into the success it was without the help of Marvin. They were a team. Seeing one half of the team in this state of collapse was terrifying. Not to mention completely alien.
Putting his face in his paws and taking a few deep, wheezing breaths, Marvin regained enough composure to speak. "There's been a terrorist attack..." he whispered.
Thoughts of a building in Oklahoma sprang up in Zig Zag's mind. Judging from the looks on the faces of everyone else, she wasn't the only one.
"Where? Are there...any dead?" she asked. "When did this happened? We have been in here since just past eight. No one's seen or heard anything."
"New York City. The Twin Towers, Zig. They're on fire. Two airliners were deliberately crashed...into the World Trade Center. Deliberately. They're burning. There are so many dead...and...and..." Marvin began. He was shaking again.
Zig Zag blinked. The enormity of it didn't really sink in the first few seconds. "And...?" she finally asked, dreading the answer.
"I s...swear, Zig, I was here on time. I went to get my mug and some co...coffee," Marvin whispered. "I turned on the TV just to see the headlines while the coffee was brewing. It was live on TV...live footage. It's still there. I couldn't leave. I couldn't stop watching. I..."
"Easy Marvin...easy...here, sit down..." Zig Zag hurried, putting a paw on her friend's shoulder and guiding him to the director's chair to sit down.
The rest of the furs in the room looked stunned. A few were mumbling to one another. There was an air of absolute disbelief in the room. Rafe cleared his throat and looked at the badger.
"Y'know...Orson Welles made everyone think that Earth was under attack from Mars, too..." he said, hopefully. "Are you sure this isn't a hoax? I mean...a trick or something? Two airliners...the World Trade Center?"
Marvin's head snapped around. The rage on his face and in his eyes nearly made the wolf jump backwards out of his own fur.
"I just stood there, watching furs on fire throw themselves out of windows on the sixtieth floor, Rafe, don't you dare say this is a hoax, or so help me you won't be coming to work for weeks," he snapped.
Rafe didn't answer. He just swallowed repeatedly and nodded as the real implications of what Marvin was saying sank in.
"Madre de Dios..." Esteban whispered. He stepped up to Zig Zag and looked at the skunk. "I don't theenk we'll...be able to do more feelmeeng today."
"That's not all," Marvin went on, the angry outburst having snapped him out of his near-catatonic state of mind. "The last thing I saw was that another airliner had been crashed into the Pentagon itself. They say there may be more hijacked planes up there. We're at war...and we don't even know who against. The president already said it's a terrorist attack."
Zig Zag shook her head. She couldn't grasp all this. "Everyone, go home. Please. Go home."
She couldn't think of anything else to say. Apparently, she didn't need to. Everyone nodded and headed to the door. Everyone except Marvin who was still sitting in the director's chair, looking at the sets.
"The world will never be the same again," he said, when everyone except Zig Zag had left. He was looking straight ahead at the empty set.
Zig Zag couldn't think of a single response. Some things didn't need responses. Instead, she stepped up behind her friend and put her paws on his shoulders. As much for her own sake as for his. The feeling of someone else's fur under her fingers was a good way of reminding herself that she wasn't alone. She felt alone, though. Small and afraid.
Marvin reached up and gave one of the skunk's paws a squeeze. Apparently...he too needed to touch someone. A basic, instinctual need and a way to make sure he wasn't alone either.
"If...I grow to be a hundred and forty, Zig...I know I'll wake up, having dreamt of those towers on fire."
His words were very quiet.
Then his shoulders began to shake.
Malcolm was sitting on a crate. A paramedic had already checked him over. Apart from a few minor cuts and a couple of bruises, there was nothing wrong with him. The paramedic had insisted that he didn't go anywhere for half an hour, since shock might set in belatedly. There were other furs there...having been moved only far enough away to be out of immediate danger. but he also had to stay out of the way of the rescue operation. His back was turned to the disaster-area but the futility of that move was total. There was no way to escape the sounds, the panic...the dread...just by turning one's back. The young feline he'd brought out of the bus had been taken to a hospital with serious injuries.
He hadn't been able to figure out which one. Now he'd never find out if that kid was going to be okay.
To Hell with waiting half an hour, he told himself and got up. He was going home. Nothing else mattered right now. He had to get back to Timothy and let the bronco know he was okay. He was still feeling like he was watching the world through gauze, though. Not from any injuries but because he couldn't collect his thoughts. Getting home was all that really mattered at this time.
Besides, they'd taken down his name and address already. What more could they want from him?
Running a paw through his hair, he started walking. No one tried to stop him. He wasn't sure if it was in the right direction. It was away from the horrors...that made it the right direction. He'd figure out the details later. Somehow.
Someone was talking about more planes as he passed them. He didn't take any notice.
He just walked.
Away.
Bounding up the stairs, already short of breath, Esteban threw open the doors to the apartment. Rushing inside, he knew he wasn't going to find Jean home. The vixen was at work. She'd left early. Very, very early. The only way to get to University in time for her only early-morning lecture was to get up at five and catch a fast train. The lecture would be moved but it'd take a few weeks to get the planning to add up. There was no way she'd be home already.
He still hoped for the impossible. Right now, he needed to see Jean. He needed to hold her.
She wasn't there.
He looked at the TV. He didn't want to turn it on, but he knew he had to. He had to see the pictures for himself. The pictures that had toppled Marvin so thoroughly. Reaching out for the remote control, he swallowed heavily. It had been an exercise in cool to drive home. The streets were in chaos, and his nerves were still raw. The radio had been turned on. He'd heard about the Pentagon but by then, he wasn't able to digest more horror.
The clock in the corner of the screen said it was sixteen minutes past ten in the morning.
The newsreader, looking like she was on the verge of a complete breakdown took a couple of pieces of paper that someone held out for her from outside the screen. She read it and started to shake.
Esteban listened with a growing feeling of hopelessness to the news of Flight 93, crashing into a field in Pennsylvania. It was still unconfirmed. Fresh in.
He sat down. Fell backwards, more precisely. The couch caught him. He was still holding the remote control in a vice-like grip.
"How manee more?" he whispered, knowing no one would hear him.
Gabrielle pushed the revolving door to the hotel and hurried inside. Suddenly, she realized that getting a hold of Ulf might not be as easy as she had thought. There were queues by the telephone. Long ones. At least she could call from her's and Yohni's room, but if there were that many furs trying to place calls, the system might simply be overloaded. She sighed and shook her head. There was nothing for it. If she had to sit there the rest of the day with the phone in her paw, she'd get through. Calling New York or Columbus was not an option yet.
She wanted to. There was nothing she wanted more than to call New York and find out if Timothy and Malcolm were okay, but she wasn't stupid enough to think every single American...tourist or otherwise...in the country had the same idea. Not to mention that every other American in the world, knowing someone in the Big Apple was going to try to get through. Even if the telephone network hadn't collapsed at her end already, it certainly would be in New York.
Yohni slipped an arm under Gabrielle's and stood close. The mongoose was looking more and more affected by what was going on. Shaking and trembling, it was only a matter of time when she collapsed in a heap, unless Gabrielle could get her to a seat. All the more reason to get to their room.
Somehow...the idea of getting into an elevator and riding a mechanical cabin into the air didn't appeal to the bronco at that moment. Instead, she gently pulled Yohni along towards the stairs.
"Come on...almost there now, Love...almost there," she said, slipping her arm around her girlfriend in a gesture of protection.
Yohni just nodded, following Gabrielle up the stairs. It seemed they weren't the only ones with a sudden fear of sitting inside a box at high altitudes. There were many furs on the stairs. The bronco mentally slapped herself for being so stupid. It wasn't as if an elevator became unsafe because of what had happened in New York, she reminded herself. Still...instincts were hard to suppress.
They got to the third floor and the right hallway of rooms. Turning around the corner, Gabrielle sighed with relief. Ulf was sitting outside their room, back against the door. The canid looked incredibly worried, but didn't notice them yet.
"I can't tell you how happy I am to see you..." Gabrielle said, approaching their Danish friend. "We were going to try to get a hold of you."
Ulf looked up. "Really? Well...I came as soon as I heard. I figured you were going to need some help. Finding the embassy and so on," he said and got to his feet. He still looked worried.
"How will we get in contact with New York and Columbus, Ohio? I've got a brother in New York..." Gabrielle said, quietly. "And we need to call our friends..."
Ulf nodded and stepped aside so the equine could unlock the hotel door. "I'll do my best. But to be honest, I don't think you should get your hopes up about getting through for some time. The phone lines are glowing...and I mean red hot. Getting a call in, overseas, is totally impossible. I already tried...I have many friends in New York. I'm scared half to death that something's happened to them. In fact..." he swallowed and shook his head, looking down "...I'd be surprised if they all made it. Some of them work in the twin towers."
"Oh my God. I...Ulf...you came here anyway, despite having that kind of worry to deal with?" Gabrielle said and stepped inside, beckoning for the canid to enter. Then she helped Yohni to a seat. The mongoose simply stared straight ahead, without a word.
"I need...to make a difference right now, Gabrielle. I really need to feel I'm not just sitting with my paws in my lap. Furs are dying. My friends...may very well be among them. And I'm sitting halfway across the world, without a chance to do anything. I need to help someone," Ulf said and sat down, putting his head in his paws.
Yohni looked up, momentarily coming out of her catatonia. "It's very nice of you. You barely know us..." she said, then...seemed to phase out again.
"Maybe...but you're nice furs, and you're far away from home," the canid said and sighed. "I suggest you check out of the hotel. I've got a guest room you can use. I know you had planned to move on in a couple of days to...Berlin wasn't it? But at least until then?"
Gabrielle shook her head. "We can't accept that, Ulf...let's face it, neither of us know what will happen now. I don't know if I really want to fly anywhere for a while...and we can't impose on you like that for a period none of us know how long may be."
"Screw that. I've got room, and you're living in a fairly expensive hotel. Look, the news are already talking about how civilian air traffic will be stopped, and no one has any idea when it'll be back to normal. I don't think there will be any flying except by military aircraft for a while. Anywhere in the western world. Please...Gabrielle...I'm not trying to get anywhere with either of you if that's what you're thinking. I just want to help...please," Ulf said, his voice starting to shake at the end.
The bronco looked at Yohni. The mongoose had tears rolling down her cheeks again. She wasn't making a sound.
Sighing, Gabrielle nodded. "Okay. I'm just worried about how your girlfriend will react," she said and sat down, putting her arms around the mongoose.
"She'll be right behind me on this, believe me. She may not approve of what you two do for a living but this is about much bigger issues," Ulf said, quietly. "I think we should try to swing by the embassy tomorrow. We can follow the situation on television. And the internet. Maybe it'll be possible to get an email through...I don't know. It'll be easier than making a phonecall at least."
Gabrielle nodded. It all made sense. Deep down, she was very relieved that Ulf had made the offer. This was not a time to be stuck in a foreign country without friends. She knew she didn't know Ulf all that well yet, but she had no idea how long it'd be before they could leave the country. It wasn't a time to say no to an outstretched paw.
"Give us twenty minutes to pack up and get ready. I think...I've got to pack for the both of us," she said and looked at the canid.
Ulf just nodded. "Take all the time you need..."
There was a knock on the door. Miriam looked up and rubbed her eyes. Lizzy was sitting in front of her, nursing a cup of cold tea. She'd been holding it in her paws for so long all heat had long since left it. Leo got up to answer it.
While he was gone, Miriam looked at her friend. She reached out with both paws and took the cup from Lizzy, putting it on the table. Then she took the doe's paws in her own. She didn't speak. Just held on.
A moment later, Leo returned. "It's Jean. She's just taking her coat off now. I think...we're going to try to get everyone here. Even those from Columbus. I know...I know...it's a long trip but...we've got room and this is not a normal situation," he said, quietly, sitting back down.
Miriam nodded. It was a good idea and she knew it. "We'll have to get a hold of Esteban and Fox too..."
"I know. I am not sure if Jean called Esteban before she came here," Leo said and leaned back in his chair, paws in his lap. He looked exhausted.
"I did..." the voice of the vixen said from the doorway. She sounded as tired as Leo looked. "I called him from Uni...he'd just come home. To see the news of that crash in Pennsylvania on TV. He said he'd get some clothes together for both him and me and come down here."
Leo nodded. The apartment would be cramped with that many furs around for the next few days, but he didn't care. It was far more important to be around friends and furs one trusted at this time, than to have elbow-space. What everyone would need was support, comfort and friendship. Jean and Esteban, Fox and Miriam all lived in Columbus and he and Lizzy still lived in Cincinnati. So did Jeremy and Emma, but the mink and her boyfriend were absent. For obvious reasons. Miriam still hadn't told the whole story...saying she wanted to wait until there were more furs present. Probably until the next day.
"What's the latest news?" Jean asked, quietly. She came in and took a seat in a chair. An air of palpable weariness clung to her.
"Both towers have collapsed. No one has any idea how many dead there are. A plane crashed into the Pentagon and one into a field in Pennsylvania. The borders are still open, but all air-traffic has stopped, except military flights. Everything is in complete chaos," Leo answered.
Miriam nodded, still holding Lizzy's paws. "Do they know who did it? Anyone hear anything about that?"
"Terrorists...the president said that very early on. It hasn't been confirmed," Jean said and sighed. "I've often thought how horrible everyone must've felt when the news of Pearl Harbor hit the streets. How afraid everyone must've been. How uncertain. And...now I think we're experiencing something even more extreme. Live footage on the television...following everything minute by minute as it happens..."
"I feel like a vulture..." Lizzy said, barely audible. Her first words in a very long time. "Watching this...on TV. Watching all those furs die. The towers...collapsing in that great...great..." she said, but cut herself short, shaking her head.
"I think we all do..." Leo said. "I think we all feel that way. And at the same time, we all feel a responsibility to watch this, to witness it."
In the background, the TV was still running.
Jean nodded. She looked at the screen again. The lion was right.
She had to bear witness.