The gentle patter of raindrops seemed to symbolize the tears of the evening. Just an hour ago, this same night, he had been so ignorant, ignorant of what he was really playing a part in. But this night had changed, ruined, his life forever. And ended several others.
Mesh separated him from the two officers who had picked him up (with his eager compliance). Driving was a hippo named Pinkerton, and his subordinate was lion officer Assad.
One was a predator, the other was prey, but they were working together to protect the city: a far cry from times past, and maybe times future. He had told them why he had come here, what he had suspected. Whether they were sympathetic to his plight, he could not read their faces. He had told them the truth, everything. They had kept their professional cool, informed the station he was coming, but he still wondered if they believed him. He had shed plenty of tears during the story, which he was grateful for, but who knew what was simmering in their minds.
Francisco could see they were about to pass under the mighty climate wall, what separated them from this fateful district.
Passing under the behemoth, the copious trees were soon replaced with copious buildings. This was the Savannah District, his home since coming to the city.
He had come to the AniTech offices in fear of the Predator Guilt Apocalypse befalling the city. The perverse irony was that he may have fulfilled his own prophecy. The wave of anti-predator animus would have fizzled out on its own, but now he had kicked it back into action with his act of terrorism.
How many lives had they taken? He had yet to find out.
What a fool he was. The trickster coyote, tricked.
What would become of those photos Wolfowitz took? Would the other predators react as irrationally as he had? He hoped not. How much more chaos and destruction would follow this? When would it end? For once, his actions had effected not just himself, but others in a most tremendous way.
He could see a tall building ahead as the police car slowed to stop. The hippo put the car in park. He was fairly certain this was the city hall. Was this where they also had the police department?
The hippo got out, then the lion, and the lion opened Frank's door. The coyote got out and they took formation, the feline behind him and the hippo leading the way. Francisco noticed the words "police" were right above him, in big, metallic letters over an overhang. He was returning to his home district a criminal. A terrorist.
Passing through the doors, they entered a grand rotunda, a fitting place to show case the police department of the world's crown-jewel city; the city that might soon fall apart, and set an example for the globe. There was an elephant at the reception desk, watching their arrival.
"So, Pinky, this is our mammal?"
"Yes, I'm taking him to one of the empty cells. Come morning, I'm sure Cheif Bogo will want to talk to him personally."
Frank was not sure exactly how the police station and city hall fit together. He could see multiple floors from where they walked, but little activity. It seemed few others were present at this hour. All the better, less gazes to judge him. Part of him was grateful his atrocity had been carried out during the night time.
They passed through a couple of double doors into the unglamorous, cinder block of the holding cell corridors. The first cell was already occupied by a fox. The next one was occupied by a raccoon. The third was waiting for him.
To think, Francisco Hernandez: the good boy, the straight A student, the higher earner, was now a terrorist.
The hippo opened the large, heavy, callous metal bars and Frank entered with the lion behind him. He might be spending a long time here, or in a place like this.
He headed to the bottom bed, big for his species but courteously low to the ground, and sat down on it. Pinkerton entered the cell. He approached the coyote, fished through his key ring, and undid Francisco's cuffs. It was a courtesy he would have taken no offense at being spared.
"Mr. Hernandez, I know you must be overwhelmed right now. You just sit tight. The police chief will come by in the morning to sort things out with you."
Surprisingly comely words. They really did believe him. Maybe working in the force gave people a sense of genuinity.
"Thanks," the canine said meekly, eyes to the floor. He did not look back as they exited, shutting the creaking bars behind them, and locked them with jingling keys.
Horrible as the situation was, he could not ask for anything more than solitude. The sanctuary of sleep would be even greater. He got under the covers and curled up, like a small child against a stormy world.
He closed his eyes. The sounds of the night: the sirens, the explosion, Wolfowitz' speech, all haunted his head. But at least he could escape into his dreams.