Tares City

61. Gone Is The Illusion Of Control

JENSEN CARTER

"Up there! That's got to be them," Dalton comments to Jensen who nods in return. Pressing on the accelerator, he speeds up to the scene, pulling Clayton's truck to the side of the road. 

"I'm guessing this is Decker's, or one of the others," He says gesturing at the car ahead of them. "I don't see any movement."

"It's quiet too," Dalton adds, opening his door. 

"Mhm, a little too quiet don't you think? Stay frosty, D," Jensen says to his friend before exiting the truck.  With slow, calculated steps, the two of them walk toward the crash before them, splitting up as they move - scanning their surroundings. 

Walking around the wreckage, Jensen spots one of the hunters lying slumped against the mangled car. He didn't need to check for a pulse, he could hear her heartbeat and steady breathing. She was just unconscious. Listening closely, the sound of labored breathing reaches him, Jensen ducking to peer inside the wrecked vehicle.

"Well, the two of them are accounted for. Both unconscious, the girl seems better off than her friend here...he'll need some medical attention soon if we want to keep him alive," Jensen informed Dalton who was crouched down next to a body. 

"The other two are dead, but he's alive," Dalton says to him. "Saw some needles scattered over there, I'm guessing that's what took 'em out. Guessing from the positions, I'd wager that she took him out first," Dalton begins, pointing to the body nearest to the wreck. "Then these two ran in and she got them in the arm. She must've passed out from exertion, or the crash. A combination of both most likely."

Jensen sighs, taking in the carnage around him, "Head to the truck, get the tarp and anything we could use to bind those two," He begins, eyeing the hunter with disgust. "I'll call Clay, fill him in. We need to get control of this before people start waking up and the city gets busy."

Dalton nods, heading to the truck as Jensen pulls out his phone.

~

DEAN  STRAKEN 

Dean let out a long, tired sigh as he filled his travel mug with coffee. Taking in the time with tired eyes, Dean puts a lid over his cup and begins gathering his things. Dean only managed two solid hours of sleep before it was time for him to wake for his shift. He cursed Quinn and her antics for his lack of sleep, having spent the majority of the night trailing after her - doing her organization's bidding. 

The fiasco they witnessed on the rooftop was still fresh in his mind, the events replaying themselves on repeat. Quinn had them watch the massacre unfold, helpless to do anything about it. In the end, the drugged Lycan killed everyone before a white van pulled up. A group of men dressed head to toe in bite suits filing out, firing at the creature. 

"Were they watching the entire time? Where did they come from? Why didn't they interrupt sooner?" Calvin shouted at Quinn as they watched the beast be tranquilized. 

"I don't know, I truly don't," Quinn had responded, "I'll get the answers."

She sounded genuine, Dean thinking perhaps she did get left out of the higher-ups' plans. But he didn't put all doubt out of his mind either. Things were only getting more complicated and Dean shuddered to think what else could be in store for them.

Dean did note that so far, these two incidents that should have given them information for the task force yielded nothing of the sort. It did, however, conveniently shine a light on the dangers and destructive nature of Lycans.