The street remained eerily deserted, as if the authorities had cleared the area in anticipation of the event. The only sound was the fading hum of the Coupe's engine.
John's eyes widened in astonishment as he gazed at Djuma, who continued to struggle in the net despite the sedative darts.
"How the hell is he still conscious?" he wondered aloud, his brow furrowed in confusion. "Those doses are enough to knock out a fully-grown elephant. How is he resisting the effects?"
Dr. Idris's expression turned calculating. "Turn on the countermeasures," he ordered.
Instantly, the employees in charge of the lighting system sprang into action.
It became clear that the 'countermeasures' Dr. Idris had mentioned earlier referred to the specialized lighting system he had installed as a precautionary measure in case of a confrontation with the Anthropters.
This strategic setup was designed to suppress potential threats by bathing the streets in intense illumination, temporarily blinding the Anthropters and rendering them vulnerable.
However, despite the sudden activation of the lighting system, Djuma remained resilient, continuing to struggle against the net that restrained him.
The streets were instantly transformed into a brilliant canvas, with Djuma at its center, his determined efforts to break free starkly highlighted.
Dr. Idris's eyes narrowed, his mind racing with calculations. He adjusted his eyeglasses, his gaze locking onto Djuma with renewed intensity.
"Hand me my medical bag, please," he demanded and Carla hesitantly stepped forward, her hand trembling as she handed over the bag. She quickly retreated from the scene, fearful of inadvertently triggering Djuma's wrath or becoming a scape goat.
Dr. Idris carefully collected his medical bag and retrieved a vial filled with a vibrant yellowish liquid and a syringe. With meticulous precision, he inserted the needle into the vial, ensuring the syringe was filled to the exact required volume.
He then slowly removed the needle, checking the syringe for any air bubbles before proceeding cautiously toward Djuma.
"Hold him," he instructed authoritatively.
Four muscular agents from the NPS force advanced, attempting to restrain Djuma. However, Djuma summoned his remaining strength, despite being hindered by the net, and swung his hand with incredible force. The agents were flung several meters away, struggling to regain consciousness.
The sudden display of power left the onlookers gasping in awe, imagining the devastating consequences if Djuma were unfettered.
"How did he detect them without even opening his eyes?" Lara exclaimed, her voice trembling with incredulity.
Dr. Idris's eyes widened as realization dawned. "Echolocation," he whispered to himself, stunned.
Mrs. Mary nodded in agreement, her expression grave. "It seems Dr. Idris's claims about them being day-blind are indeed true. Their echolocation abilities compensate for visual limitations, making them formidable even in bright environments."
She turned to John, her voice laced with malice. "The tables have turned, now's your chance for revenge."
John's expression remained stoic, but his eyes betrayed a glimmer of anticipation.
Carla's soft voice cut through the tension. "I think Mr. Mark would want you to consider the consequences of your actions, Mr. John. Would he truly want you to stain your hands with blood in the name of revenge?"
John's anger flared, his eyes blazing. "Are you suggesting I should ignore the monsters that brutally murdered him?" His voice dripped with disdain. "I'll hunt them down, no matter how far they flee. I'll annihilate their entire planet, ensuring Mark's death isn't in vain."
Carla's words faltered, her lips parting in silence. The heavy tension hung until Djuma's loud groan pierced the air.
After a grueling and protracted struggle, Djuma was finally subdued by seven heavily-trained NPS agents. Exhausted but relieved, they pinned him down, enabling Dr. Idris to administer the sedative directly into his neck.
Stepping back, Dr. Idris and the agents observed as Djuma fought valiantly to maintain consciousness.
For approximately two minutes, Djuma's body wrestled with the sedative's effects, his limbs flailing and his chest heaving in a desperate bid to resist the impending blackout. Despite his remarkable resilience, the sedative eventually overpowered him, plunging Djuma into a deep, unresponsive slumber.
Dr. Idris watched in awe, his scientific curiosity piqued. "It's truly astonishing," he murmured. "The strongest human would succumb to unconsciousness within ten seconds of receiving this sedative. Yet, this creature endured for nearly two minutes, defying all known medical expectations."
Turning to the NPS agents, Dr. Idris issued a crisp instruction. "Transport him to my laboratory immediately. Tonight promises to be an extraordinary and demanding night."
As the agents carefully lifted Djuma's limp form onto a stretcher and proceeded into the NASA building, Dr. Idris trailed behind, his mind racing with the implications of Djuma's remarkable physiology.
*****
Christina stepped into the house, her tear-stained face illuminated by the soft hallway lights. Emily, her stepmother, looked up from her reading, curiosity etched on her features.
"Where have you been at this ungodly hour, Christina?" She demanded.
Christina ignored the inquiry, hastily wiping away her tears as she rushed upstairs. Emily's expression transformed from curiosity to concern.
"Did I just see you crying, Christina?" she asked, her voice laced with surprise. "It's been twelve years, who made you cry?"
Twelve years had passed since Christina last shed tears in front of her, and Emily couldn't fathom what could have triggered this emotional outburst.
"What could have happened to her?" Emily whispered to herself, scurrying after Christina.
Christina slammed her bedroom door shut and locked it, seeking refuge. She collapsed onto her bed, desperation etched on her face.
"Mike, do you copy? Can you hear me?" she pleaded, her voice cracking as she double-tapped her Lav.
"Talk to me, Mike. I just want to know if you're okay," she implored.
The only response was Emily's muffled voice behind the door.
"What's wrong, Christy? Open this door. Who are you talking to?" Emily demanded.
Christina's anger boiled over. "Mind your own business and leave me alone! Or else..." her warning trailed off. Undeterred, she continued tapping her Lav, desperate to reach Mike.
Emily stood frozen, her eyes wide with astonishment, as she struggled to process Christina's uncharacteristic outburst.
Flabbergasted, she felt a wave of shock and embarrassment wash over her. For twelve years, Christina had bitten back her anger, locking it deep within.
The Christina she knew would never dare to raise her voice at her. But now, Emily saw a different person - one who refused to be intimidated.
As the reality of Christina's words sunk in, Emily's shock slowly gave way to concern. What could have triggered this sudden change? What hidden pains had Christina been harboring?
After a perplexing silence, Emily retreated, her mind reeling with questions. She wondered what had happened to the Christina she thought she knew.
*****
Rachael and Stefan were unceremoniously dropped off on the deserted road leading to their homes. Still fuming, they directed their frustration at the NPS agents, unleashing a string of expletives before turning to head home.
As they walked, Stefan broke the silence, his question piercing through Rachael's fragile emotional state. "What are you going to tell your parents about Mike's disappearance?" he asked.
Rachael's eyes widened, her pupils dilating in fear. The query sent her spiraling into a vortex of sadness and anxiety. "I really have to go now," she stammered.
Her trembling voice betrayed her inner turmoil. Without collecting her backpack from Stefan, Rachael hastily departed.
Stefan sighed, regret etched on his face. "I guess I shouldn't have said that," he whispered. His head hung low as he continued his solitary journey home.
Meanwhile, Rachael approached her home, where her mother sat anxiously at the doorstep. Mrs. Smith's reaction upon seeing Rachael revealed she's been worriedly waiting for her.
"Jesus Christ, Rachael! Where have you been?" she exclaimed, her concern was palpable. "I've been waiting for you; it's past eight. Where are you coming from at this time of the night?"
Rachael's words faltered, she couldn't bring herself to tell her about what happened, all she could do was stammer, "Um... I... went to..."
Mrs. Smith's concern deepened. "Are you okay, love? Where's your brother?" she asked, her voice conveyed the depth of her worries.
Rachael's words faltered, her voice cracking as she struggled to articulate a coherent response. "He... He's... at..." she stuttered, her mind reeling from the shock of Mike's disappearance. The words swirled in her head, but her thoughts remained jumbled.
Mrs. Smith's worried expression transformed into incredulity. "Don't tell me he's at Stefan's place, is he?" she asked.
Rachael's eyes widened in relief as her mom's question sparked a desperate solution. "Oh, yes! That's where he is; he's sleeping over," she quickly replied, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly.
Mrs. Smith sighed, her shoulders sagging in resignation. "I guess I'll have to call Stefan's parents to confirm his..." she trailed off.
Rachael panicked, her heart racing. "Don't!" she shouted, her outburst startled Mrs. Smith, almost knocking her off balance.
Rachael swiftly regained composure. "I mean... Stefan's parents aren't home tonight, so Mike stayed with Stefan since he'd be alone," she said almost in a whisper.
Mrs. Smith's exasperation grew. "Then why did you yell?!" she demanded. "You almost scared me to death!" she retorted, her whining filling the air.
Rachael's face flushed with guilt, she watched as her mother opened the door and stepped inside, her exhale shallow.
"Ugh, that was a close call," she muttered under her breath and stepped into the house, the door creaking shut behind her.