Chapter 16 – Disappointment

One thought keeps repeating in Drogo’s mind – in a moment he will collapse, black out, and when that happens they will take him. With that realization he bursts into the backyard, already speaking to the presence inside him. Scan by scent. Map everyone nearby. I’ll move fast. I have only minutes before I lose consciousness. The answer comes instantly, calm and precise. Four behind the house. Two moving along the sides. One ahead in the neighboring house. Elderly female. Drogo keeps running without slowing. How long? he asks. Two to three minutes. Same as before.

He vaults the fence and lands already turning when the warning reaches him again. Left. Dog. Charging. His body tightens mid-stride and his head turns just enough to catch the movement. A Labrador retriever launches toward his left arm.

Drogo catches the animal by both jaws, locking both hands on the jaws, and pulls apart with brutal force until the cartilage tears and the body collapses into the grass. The voice inside him immediately continues. Door. The woman is opening it.

Drogo cuts his path and sprints straight toward the entrance. The door cracks open and he slams it forward with his full weight. Wood strikes bone and the woman collapses unconscious. Without slowing he slips inside, leaves the door half open, runs through the house and climbs out through the kitchen window. One fence follows another as he clears the yards and reaches the forest side, running along the long line of backyards until the street suddenly opens in front of him.

Houses stand on both sides of the road. Cars are parked tightly along the curb. The street opens in front of him. From one of the houses a man steps outside with keys in his hand, moving toward his vehicle. The presence speaks again inside his head. This is the only option left.

The driver’s door begins to open. Drogo appears behind the man, locks his arm around the neck in a tight triangle choke and squeezes until the body goes limp. Without releasing the hold he drags the unconscious man to the trunk and throws him inside. Then he slides into the driver’s seat, starts the car and pulls onto the road, turning onto the next street with the headlights off. Thirty seconds, the presence reminds him.

Drogo stops near another residential house, moves into the back seat and lies flat, forcing his breathing to slow as he waits for the effect of the heart he had eaten – the surge of strength that should come with it. One minute passes. Then another. Five more. Nothing happens.

At last he mutters in frustration, What is happening? Why is there no effect? The presence answers slowly. I feel fragments in your stomach. Pieces of Gobby’s heart. They still carry his scent trace, but nothing more. To your body they are simply raw meat. Some of them your stomach is already rejecting. You will begin to vomit soon. Drogo clenches his teeth. How is that possible? The reply comes after a brief pause. I don’t know. But it feels as if the boy keeps his power somewhere other than the heart.

Heat gathers under Drogo’s skin with nowhere to go, anger rising together with a heavy wave of frustration and disbelief. Damn. Damn. Damn.

Two soldiers step into the backyard and quickly assess the scene. One tilts his head toward the earpiece. Seventh to Command. He’s not here. He moved forward. Permission to pursue? The reply comes immediately. Command to unit. Permission granted. Begin pursuit immediately.

The soldiers spread around the old woman’s house. The dead dog lies in the grass. Two move to the front door while four more slide along the walls, surrounding the building. A moment later the radio crackles again. Seventh to Command. Possible movement into the neighboring house. Request entry. Cerberus answers without hesitation. We’re moving to your position. Entry confirmed. The soldiers enter the house from different sides and begin the sweep just as Cerberus arrives at the entrance with one of the police officers. Seconds later the report follows. Seventh to Command. House clear. No contact.

Cerberus turns to the officer beside him. Activate all resources and begin a full search. Understood? The officer nods and steps aside, speaking into the radio. Suspect escaped. He is somewhere in the area. All patrols begin search. Check every house. Use caution. Target is dangerous and possibly armed. If you spot him, keep your distance and report directly to me.

Cerberus switches channels. Base, report. Do you have anything? The response arrives almost immediately. Base to Command. I see you on a camera mounted on the neighboring house. The target jumped the fence toward the forest. There’s no coverage there. Most likely he moved west. We’re checking cameras along that street, but there’s no movement so far. Either he’s on the next street or moving very carefully. Cerberus listens for a moment and replies calmly. Copy that. Seal all exits, monitor the cameras, and verify any incoming information.

He turns back to the soldiers. All remaining units move to the next street. Maintain formation. Advance in two-man elements. Increase spacing between partners to five meters. Any contact, report immediately. Each team will receive one police officer. Use him to handle civilians and, if necessary, as cover. Understood? The answers follow almost simultaneously. Alpha acknowledges. Beta acknowledges. Sigma acknowledges.

Cerberus looks again at the officer beside him. Assign three officers. One to each team. They will speak with the homeowners. Understood, the officer replies and keys the radio. Patrol units seven-three-two, three-one-four, eight-one-five – move to my position. Moving, the voices answer. Within moments the teams reorganize into three-person units, weapons settling into ready positions as the formation tightens.

Cerberus gives the final command. Move.

Drogo’s body suddenly twists in dry spasms as anger and frustration build under his skin. The strength he expected never came, and now he has no clear idea what to do next. The voice inside him cuts through the chaos. Calm down. We’re surrounded. Drogo freezes. What’s happening? The answer follows instantly. Nine people moving in three groups of three. They’re advancing in a line, sweeping the area. Two more remain behind them as observers. One group will pass us in a moment. Then the voice suddenly changes tone. Damn. Drogo’s pulse tightens. What happened? The reply comes cold and direct. The man you chose not to kill is breathing faster. He’s waking up. Do not move. One of the groups is passing right now.

Drogo stays perfectly still. Boots scrape somewhere outside as the soldiers move past the parked cars and continue toward the entrance of one of the nearby houses. When their steps fade, Drogo slowly reaches from the back seat toward the trunk latch and opens access to the compartment. His arm disappears into the darkness until his fingers find the man’s clothes. He pulls the body closer. The man stirs, muttering something and trying to cry out, but Drogo leans forward and speaks quietly, his voice calm and absolute. If you scream, I’ll go back to your house. I’ll wait until your family comes home. Then I’ll take a hammer and crush their skulls one by one in front of you. After that I’ll let you live. You’ll spend the rest of your life knowing your mistake killed them. Drogo speaks with complete certainty because he already noticed the wedding ring on the man’s hand and the photograph of children clipped inside the car. The threat lands exactly where it needs to. The man immediately goes still.

Time passes. Darkness settles over the street and patrol cars move through the neighborhood, their lights briefly washing across the houses. Drogo finally whispers to the presence inside him, Anyone around? The answer comes after a short pause. No. People have locked themselves inside their homes. I don’t sense anyone near the windows. You can act.

Drogo steps out of the car and walks to the trunk. When he opens it, the man looks up at him with wide, terrified eyes. A thick sour smell spills out – the man has lost control of his body in fear. Drogo barely reacts. It is far from the first time he has seen this. Where are your house keys? he asks quietly. The man immediately understands what Drogo is thinking. No… please. I did everything you asked. Drogo ignores the plea. Garage or shed. Do you have one? The man nods weakly. Yes… near the house. Drogo gestures toward the street. Good. We’re going there. And don’t even think about trying something.

Inside the garage Drogo stops him and looks directly into his eyes. Choose. The lives of your family, or the lives of the police officers. The answer comes instantly. My family. Drogo nods once. Then listen carefully.

A patrol car slowly moves along the street, its headlights scanning the houses. Suddenly a man runs out into the road, waving his arms and shouting hysterically that the suspect has been caught and the police need help – one officer is injured and the other is struggling to hold the attacker. The patrol car stops immediately. Forgetting procedure, both officers jump out of the vehicle. One runs ahead toward the shouting man while the second follows a step behind. The first officer turns toward his partner and begins to say that he should call for backup.

Drogo is already behind him.

His hands move once – fast and precise – and the man’s neck snaps sharply to the side. As the body collapses, the second officer is already down behind him, blood spreading across the pavement.

A short time later a police patrol car quietly leaves the street. Behind the wheel sits Drogo, dressed in a police uniform.