Now Jayson is sitting in a cell in the basement of the Bliss County Police Department. His face hurts. His ribs hurt. Really the only things that doesn’t hurt are his ears. Everything else is a dull agony, constantly throbbing like pockets of sharp hearts beating beneath his flesh. He hates. He wants to go to his rotted-out burrow and sleep, but he can’t sleep because he is sitting on a concrete slab directly across from Ashton who will not stop staring at him with that stupid smile.

  Mortimer sits next to Jayson, his back against the wall, Claribel’s hat over his eyes, and his arms folded across his chest. Like Jayson, his body and clothes are battered, covered in grime and sweat, but unlike Jayson, Mortimer actually appears to be sleeping.

  At the other end of the cell is Ashton and Greg, both bruised, but not nearly to the extent of Jayson and Mortimer.

  “So when you do the time-manipulation thing, what’s it look like? Is there, like, a wave of blue light, or is it more, like, bullet-time from those old movies with the slow-mo and the wobble?” asks Ashton.

  Jayson replies with a quiet frown.

  “Let it go, Ashton. He’s not talking,” says Greg.

  Ashton’s grin holds. “Look, man, I know you’re probably mentally juggling, like, a thousand timelines right now. But help me out. Professional to professional. When you hit people with your stick, do you see weird ghost images of yourself? I need the sensory details, man. Give me the color palette.”

  Jayson keeps staring at Ashton, arms folded tightly and fingers digging into his forearms and his lips hooking deeper into the frown.

  “Fine, be all mysterious and stoic. I can work with that. Can we do experiments with your stick when we get out of here, or nah?” says Ashton.

  Jayson stays quiet, and Greg rolls his eyes. A minute later, the cell door shudders as someone slams the lock from outside, a sharp metallic echo that reverberates off the walls. Overlapping voices and shoes clicking against concrete get closer to their cell, and soon, a group rounds the corner.

  Leading the group is Mariana Cross in a police uniform, next to her is Derrick, who is somehow keeping pace despite the limp and cane (his wings are still bandaged). Behind him is Bridgette, and then there is Claribel, Lexia, Vanessa, and Madison. Seeing Derrick makes Jayson’s ears droop since Derrick looks like he’s about to beat him to the ground with his cane. Lexia looks annoyed, Claribel and Madison are worried, and Vanessa has a smug smile. Bridgette has a curious expression.

  “See? Told you they were in jail,” says Vanessa.

  Lexia grumbles and gives Vanessa fifty bucks, and the high maintenance rabbit giggles, sniffs the bill, and skips away. Jayson watches her go with a sneer and then looks at Derrick and Lexia, offering a meek smile.

  “Hey guys,” says Jayson.

  Derrick hobbles to the cell door and glares at Jayson. “What the hell did you do?”

  Mortimer snorts and jolts upright, lifting his hat and blinking haze away. When he sees Derrick, he groans and slumps against the wall.

  “Aw man, not you again,” says Mortimer.

  “I ain’t here for you. I’m here to bail out Jayson. You can stay in there,” says Derrick.

  “Hey, I saved your life!”

  “Only because I gave you hotdogs.”

  Mortimer scoffs. “Oh wow. Hotdogs at the reservoir. I’m sure that was a staple memory for all of us.”

  “Shut up.” Derrick looks at Jayson again. “What happened?”

  Jayson nods to Ashton and Greg. “I was looking for Lexia and Claribel, and those two chased after me and Mortimer, which led to a fight.”

  “Well, that fight led to a lot of property damage that someone is going to have to pay for, and since you blew all your money moving a grave that means someone’s gotta cover you. That someone IS ME!”

  Derrick bangs his cane against the jail bars, making everyone jump, and Bridgette gently grabs Derrick’s shoulders and pulls him away.

  “Okay, let’s back up and relax a little,” says Bridgette.

  Lexia presses herself to the bars, scanning Jayson up and down. “You need a shower. And a nap.”

  “Yeah, I do,” says Jayson tiredly.

  “So do I,” says Mortimer.

  “You have a hotel you can use,” says Lexia.

  Claribel clings to the bars right next to Lexia, those red slit eyes locked on Mortimer and a smile on her reptilian face. “You found my hat!”

  Mortimer nods. “Getting this was a pain in the ass.”

  Derrick looks at Mariana. “How much to bail Jayson?”

  Lexia folds her arms and stares intently at Derrick. As does Claribel… And Bridgette… And Jayson… And Mortimer.

  “And Mortimer?” adds Derrick, grimacing at the name.

  Mariana gives Derrick a slip of paper. He reads it, and then he turns his burning eyes to the locked up pair, his shadows darkening and twitching against the concrete as he gives the paper back to Mariana.

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  “Y’all better find some jobs to pay me back,” says Derrick.

  Jayson and Mortimer quietly nod, and Bridgette leans towards Derrick.

  “I could chip in. I have some in savings if you need the help,” says Bridgette.

  Derrick holds up a hand, silencing her. “You’re not doing that. Besides, it’s not about the money. It’s about principle. Which nobody in Bliss Town ever fricking learns.”

  Ashton opens his mouth to retort, but the world goes silent as the main doors swing open again with a hissy, official chatter. The group watches the hallway, and around the corner comes an old, male silver squirrel anthro is impeccably groomed, his slicked-back fur shines under the fluorescent lights. He wears a tailored suit made of burgundy fabric that contrasts sharply with the pale gray of his fur. A gold chain dangles from his waist, glinting as he moves, and his sharp, eyes scan the room with a mix of curiosity and amusement. This is Mayor Macanas, and flanking him are two coyote guards, both wearing suits and sunglasses.

  Mayor Macanas's expression is one of practiced geniality, but there is an uncanny effect to his smile. He approaches with a confident gait, his tail flicking behind him as he prepares to engage with the assembled group, a glimmer of excitement in his eyes as he visually inspects everyone. He stops at Mariana Cross and shakes her hand while smiling at his guards.

  “Take a picture and remind the newspaper that I love the police,” says Mayor Macana.

  One of the guards pulls out a small, boxy camera, flashes one photo and stuffs it back in his pocket. With the camera gone, the mayor releases Mariana’s hand and hurries away from her, putting his attention on Ashton and Greg.

  “The Glitch Hunters! In my city! What an honor! I love your channel!” says Macanas, his voice booming and loaded with fake warmth.

  Greg sits bolt upright. Ashton practically leaps to stand, as if he’s been plugged in.

  “Mayor Macanas, sir!” Ashton blurts. “Big fan. Real privilege. Loved tracking your elections and love what you’ve done with Bliss Town!”

  Macanas chuckles and tugs on his jacket, his smile genuinely smug. “Ah, yes. I am a man for the poor and downtrodden after all.” His smile disappears as he looks at Mariana. “What are you waiting for? Get them out.”

  “They need bail,” says Mariana.

  “Put it on my tab. Get them out.”

  Mariana refrains from any hostile expressions as she unlocks the cage, motioning Ashton and Greg out. Once they are out, Madison rushes over and hugs them. The mayor smiles again and clamps his hands together.

  “Ah, I love happy endings,” he says. Then he sighs heavily and turns to Derrick, his smile strained. “Too bad my happy ending with you hasn’t come yet.”

  “A real shame nobody’s shot you in the head,” says Derrick.

  The two coyote guards immediately step forward, but Macanas holds up his hand, stopping them in their tracks.

  “Relax, you two. Former Officer Marlow is just a grumpy birdie. What happened to you, anyway? Drunk flying?” says Macanas.

  “I don’t drink,” says Derrick flatly.

  The two stare at each other in heavy silence, and Bridgette watches, trying not to fidget, but her tail feathers fluff in time with the tension. Soon, the mayor’s hostile expression thaws, and a small chuckle bubbles from his lips.

  “Why are we fighting? We’re all on the same side of wanting Bliss Town to be better,” says Macanas. He leans forward and grabs Derrick’s arm tightly, his lips peeled back for a toothy grin and his eyes darkening. “I’ll tell you what, why don’t you and your friends come by my residence for the upcoming pool party this Friday? I think the elites of Bliss County would like to meet the ones who destroyed Mama Bear’s factory.”

  Derrick’s expression holds, but his muscles tighten. Seconds tick by, and Derrick looks at the rest of the group. They stare back, and with a controlled sigh, Derrick returns to Macanas.

  “We’ll be there,” says Derrick.

  “Excellent.” Macanas pats Derrick’s arm and goes to the Glitch Hunters, putting his hands on Ashton and Madison as he forces them up the stairs. “You three are coming, too. I’ve got some people I’d like you to meet.”

  Jayson stares at Macanas’s wide, too-white grin as the mayor’s hand slides down to Madison’s butt, and he steers her and Ashton up the stairs while the coyote guards force Greg to follow. Ashton gives the holding cell a little good-luck-wave on the way out, and then Macanas’ group disappears from sight, leaving Jayson alone with the others, their echoing steps quickly vanishing.

  Derrick watches the door, feathers puffed, his cane held tight, and Lexia leans against the bars, near Jayson, arms folded and her eyes also on the door.

  “Macanas looks taller on TV,” says Lexia.

  “I guess he forgot his raised shoes,” says Jayson.

  Derrick grunts and goes to Mariana, pulling out the bank gift card Trafford gave him. Mariana swipes the card on a register near the cell and proceeds to unlock Jayson’s cell. The barred door opens, metal scraping against concrete, and she motions Jayson and Mortimer out. The two exit, and Claribel’s tail rattles with excitement as she latches onto Mortimer, hugging him tightly and wounding her tail around his leg.

  Then she yanks her burnt and battered hat away from him, plops it on her head, and pecks him on the cheek.

  “Thank you for getting my hat back,” says Claribel.

  “You owe me big time for this,” says Mortimer. His eyes flick up and down Claribel’s body and he holds her at arm’s length to get a better look, and smiling, too, despite him running on fumes. “But this is a great start.”

  Claribel’s cheeks heat up, and she looks at Lexia, who grins and nods slowly.

  “Told you,” says Lexia. Then she turns to Jayson, grabbing his arm and tugging him off balance. “As for you, you need a bath.”

  “A dive in the river will fix this,” says Jayson.

  “Not in this weather and not for whatever you rolled in.”

  Mariana coughs and holds out a clipboard with a pen tied to it via string. “Moment’s over. Sign the paperwork.”

  Jayson limps to the table and scrawls his signature. Mortimer follows. Then they follow Derrick and Bridget up the stairs. The trip from the basement to the stairs and through the station lobby is lost in Jayson’s memory. One moment he is down below, the next he is outside, the air is chilled, the sky is dark with the cosmic illuminations coming from the cracks in the sky and the full moon watching them as an Eye of God.

  Cars drive by in blurs of light, billboards and neon signs flicker, and Derrick pulls out a cigarette and lights it before hobbling forward. The others trail him.

  “So, about the pool party thing,” says Lexia.

  “We’re going and that’s final,” says Derrick.

  “I don’t want to go. Those parties are stuffy and are toxic to my introvert personality,” says Jayson.

  “You don’t want to see bikini babes and drink spiked beverages?” says Mortimer, earning him a hostile side eye from Claribel, which he waves off. “Relax, Claribel. I’m allowed to joke after the crap I went through.”

  “Mayor Macanas knew we destroyed Mama Bear’s factory,” says Derrick.

  “And so did those weirdos, the Glitch Hunters. They actually knew us by name. Including my parents’ names,” says Jayson.

  “Same for me,” says Mortimer, his tone hardening. “Only two people knew my parents’ names. Thaddeus Yap and Mama Bear.”

  Lexia’s expression darkens. “Oh, the familiar names.”

  Mortimer nods. “Yeah, so my guess is the Glitch Hunters got fed that info by one of them or people associated with them. Either way, it’s not good.”

  “Do you think the mayor is working for Mama Bear?” asks Bridgette.

  “I know he is,” grunts Derrick, his cigarette bobbing in his beak and his face twitching with every pained step. “But since we’ve been invited to his pool party, we can take the opportunity to snoop around and find concrete evidence.”

  "Now the snooping I can go with. I’m good at that,” says Jayson.

  Derrick nods. “We’ll need a better gameplan. I’ll call up Nermal and see if we can get a blueprint of the mansion. Until then…” Derrick stops and looks at Jayson and Mortimer. “You two get some sleep and clean up good. Friday is going to be another rough day and Mama Bear is not going to go easy on any of us anymore.”