Returning to the park, the pair went towards where they found the body, and like Ripley said, it's gone. There's a black patch in the middle and there's the musky smell lingering around it, the same they smelt last night. Distinctly, there's no police presence or anything to suggest that someone called them after finding the body.
Matt tried to find reasons why the body's gone. He's sure the police found it on a call and sent it to the morgue. There's no tape or anything because they already found what they're looking for, but the more he looked at the scene, the more the pit in his stomach grew.
He spotted a groundskeeper lugging a power washer towards the spot, prepared to wash it off the cement.
The groundskeeper spotted the pair as he approached and told them that he'll wash the spot off in minutes. Ripley talked to him and he's nonchalant about the black spot, saying they didn't take long to wash off.
"This appeared before?" Ripley blinked as the groundskeeper told her.
He nods, his sagging skin wobbling as he did.
"Yeah, just grease spots, miss, it's those damn kids. Every night they gotta make a mess when they're out," the groundskeeper spat as he told Ripley that every night, kids come out of the woodworks with their motorized scooters, motorcycles, whatever, and made hell during the power outages.
Asking them to step aside, the pair moved and watched as the groundskeeper power washed the musk away, traces of blood, barely visible.
The water reflected the pair's faces as the groundskeeper walked by, humming along to a song as he put on headphones, waving his arm holding the power washer.
"Matt," Ripley exhaled sharply.
Matt turned to her.
She turned to him and said, "It's them…"
There's only one explanation for this.
The telling signs were there.
Power outages, the vaccinations campaigns, sick homeless, the body, the injured homeless man begging them not to let "them" take him, and the black musk.
"Are you sure?" Matt touched her shoulder as she nodded.
Ripley turned her head to look at the cleaned sidewalk, no black musk present, and said, "I've heard of small towns and villages… but I never heard of cities doing it."
It's a dark kept secret that when the Drekker came into Ripley's world, certain powers that be saw their arrival as means to an end, and used them to cull the sickly individuals. It took money and blackmail to ensure the public weren't aware of what happened. Those sick, only a matter of time before a Drekker caught them. Animals, children, elderly, there's no distinction for them, if one's sick, they'll hunt and eat them. It's not out of the realm of possibility the powers of be used the Drekker against their political enemies and loose ends, it's only a matter if they'd care what happens after.
Weaponized, the Drekker consumed their weight in the sick and it never spread to the cities, only towns and villages. They preferred the ones near woodlands, mostly, and often those astray that accidentally found their nests, didn't come back.
Cities, they're too bright for the Drekker and there's not many places for them to roost. Only when the All-Mother's Children cut the power to cities did they come out in full force.
"The bushfires," Ripely flinched.
The Drekker wouldn't roost in the city unless forced.
In fire-prone areas like this, the Drekker wouldn't risk roosting in the woodlands, they'd have to go somewhere else. If not towns near the woodlands, they'd go into a city without them.
"Why wouldn't they just leave outright?" Matt asked her.
If the dangers are inherent, why wouldn't the Drekker just leave and go elsewhere.
Ripley said that the Big One's responsible for the choice and he'd probably didn't feel threatened enough to move his flock somewhere else.
"Where'd they even hide in a city like this?" Matt wondered.
Ripley frowned as she suggested that Cassandra worked out the details, she'd probably commissioned a windowless warehouse that's secluded and abandoned, guarded outside in the day.
"Rip, if they're here, what about… the others?" Matt remembered their encounter with the Sabbek.
He felt relieved, not much, when Ripley told him that they worked on their own schedule and probably roosting elsewhere. Matt seized when Ripley reminded him that if harm came to the Drekker they'd come swiftly.
Walking away from the park, arm around Ripley's shoulder, Matt asked what's the best course of action on handling the Drekker, he's unhappy when Ripley told him.
"There's not much you can do. Once they're here, once they've hunted, they'll stay until the Big One tells them to move or there's not any stick person or animal left," Ripely winced.
The Drekker consumed the homeless and as far as Cassandra's agency's concerned, they're not hurting the actual citizens.
If there's still homeless, the Drekker wouldn't harm the others, but as the natural order of things go that'll be sooner rather than later.
No doubt, the remaining homeless figured out what's happening and fled, those sick remained, and prime targets of the Drekker. They'll turn their attention to the remaining population when the last one dies and they're bold enough they're not going to flee so easily.
"Like animals, once they lose their natural fears, you better run and pray," Ripley summed what it's like when the Drekker started boldly hunting out in the opening.
Unopposed, they'll become fearless and that meant no one's safe from them. No one.
"They'll stay away from the hospitals, though, right?" Matt asked her.
Ripley reminded him of what she told him before and added, "They'll make Thanksgiving look modest."
Matt recoiled in fear and wondered how Cassandra found out about them in the first place. Ripley told him that usually, officials found out by checking notes and bodies, leaving cameras in known areas, and bait.
"Bait?" Matt's eyes widened.
Ripley nodded.
It's not uncommon hearing how officials baited the Drekker by using known sick individuals or animals. It's how they got a look at them proper and the raw power they possess. Once they saw the potential, it was all she wrote.
Ripley decided to visit the journalist that wrote the scathing news articles and pass along information regarding what's going on. If there's anything journalists were good for other than selling tabloids at the supermarket, they're good at reaching the masses.
"When we're done passing along the story of a century, I think we should give Cassandra a consultant visitation," Ripley summed in short words what she wanted to do to Cassandra when she caught up to the woman.
It's disgusting that officials done this, luring dangerous creatures like the Drekker and letting them run rampant. Killing the sick and lame, animal and man, for what reason, other than selfish and greed.
Hailing another taxi, the pair headed to the publication house where the journalist worked for and used their CSS to get into his office for an interview.
Sitting in his office, the pair looked around and spotted the numerous awards the journalist, Johnnie B. Goode, earned during his ten-years as a journalist for the Baywatch News.
"Won't telling him alert the… you know?" Matt asked Ripley as they sat in the leather chairs.
Ripley told him that it's fine.
The Sabbek and Drekker weren't words invented by the Children.
Rather, they're words invented by the two species. The Children just copied and went along with them.
The door behind them opened and a tall slender black man with a full head of hair, a pale blotch on his exposed left forearm, and beard walked in. Yawning, he went around the desk and sat down, looking at the pair.
"I'm told you'd wanted an interview?" Johnnie asked them as he looked between them.
Ripley nodded as she affirmed, they're there for an interview.
Johnnie asked who they were and she introduced them as the Doctor and Ripley, it confused Johnnie and she affirmed that that's who they were.
"Privacy reasons, you understand," Ripley explained the reasoning.
Johnnie caught on and agreed.
He asked her what they wanted an interview for and she began, "We heard about your articles and the lawsuit. Something about the homeless deaths and so on."
Johnnie nodded as he explained that that's the gist for it and Ripley revealed, "We know what's killing the homeless."
Johnnie's stunned by Ripley's statement.
He wanted clarification and she gave it to him.
"You're not going to believe me. That's fair. Believe me, it's not the first time I've had to say this. Death has come to your bayside city, Mr. Goode, and it's only going to get worse from then on," Ripley grimly told him.
It's hard to tell someone who never witnessed the sight of the tarry fiends, but Ripley easily told him what's lurking around the city at night during the blackouts. She explained the way the flock works, how it's structured, and how they hunt.
"They can identify the sick and lame by smell alone. Doesn't matter how much you dress yourself. Cough drops, syrup, rubs, it won't stop them from smelling it. Even if you're not showing symptoms, they'll know. They've got a heat based vision. If they see anything in you, they'll know. You can't fool them and even if you say you're not sick, it won't deter them," Ripley told him how the Drekker evolved with enhanced sense of smell and a heat vision to spot the hidden sickness.
Doesn't matter if it's the flu or even cancer, sick is sick to the Drekker, and they'll hunt whoever they sniffed out first. Regardless of who or what they are.
Ripley told him everything she knew about the Drekker and how dangerous they really are. Their heights, their strength, everything, she stressed that attacking them won't stop them and instead cause things to get worse.
By the time Ripley gave her monologue, she could tell Johnnie struggling internally. It's not uncommon for that to happen.
"Sir, we tried to help a homeless man last night. We called an ambulance, but he never arrived at the hospital. Or any hospitals," Matt helped add credence to Ripley's point. "We found a dead man in one of the parks, too, his face completely gone."
Ripley then added that both instances, someone from Cassandra Williams's agency appeared.
"We're told that when she came into the picture, all the homeless funnel through her clinics," Matt spoke about the policy change that happened the moment Cassandra Williams came.
Johnnie nodded as he affirmed that hospitals in the county used to treat homeless under their protocols, but Cassandra forced them to use hers. Which meant, they're unable to treat the homeless.
"What did you find out about the dead homeless?" Ripley asked Johnnie about his role in finding out the homeless' deaths and the coverup.
Replying, Johnnie told her as he poured himself a drink, "Homeless deaths aren't uncommon here. Usually, it's OD and violence among themselves. You see it so many times here, you hardly blink. I don't know what happened, but it started changing. Not for the good. Used to be a homeless camp near the bridge, but after one night, god, it looked like a horror movie. Bodies laying everywhere, some the police couldn't identify, and some, some just look like a heap of meat."
Johnnie recalled an incident that happened months ago about a former camp that used to operate under the bride near the city. Police used to visit it whenever there's violence, but otherwise, the homeless stayed to themselves. Something happened overnight and by morning, the police needed breaks just to get by while collecting evidence, and whatever's left of the homeless.
"They said it was stray dogs," Johnnie told Ripley.
He would've believed them, if not for the dead dogs.
"Same MO, some barely intact, some mounds of flesh, and others, just a tail," Johnnie added a bit of gallows humor at the end.
Raising the glass cup to his lips, he asked Ripley how she knew about this.
Summing, Ripley replied, "You learn when you listen."
Drinking, Johnnie sat his half-empty glass of scotch as he began asking Ripley questions about the Drekker and where they came from.
Ripley didn't know where they came from, but she told Johnnie that while she didn't know how many flocks are present, she knew that the small towns and the villages knew their existence.
Going through the laundry list, Johnnie complied footnotes to make his article with, and by the time he finished, he stopped and looked up.
"Assuming this is true, why hadn't anyone done something?" Johnnie asked her.
Ripley responded, "Why raise a finger when someone's doing your dirty work and no one can prove they exist?"
It resonated with Johnnie as he nodded.
Finishing, Johnnie asked Ripley if there's anyway to get rid of the Drekker if they couldn't attack them and Ripley told him.
"Bright lights, good health, and rosemary," Johnnie summed. "These demons?
Matt spoke up and said that it's the honest truth.
Ripley confirmed that's the only three ways to keep the Drekker away without resorting to violence.
"Sir, we know this sounds crazy, but Ripley's telling the truth," Matt said.
Johnnie looked through his notes and tapped his finger against his desk. On his mind, the pair saw him discussing the topic with his inner voices.
Aloud, the pair looked like crazy people.
The pair watched Johnnie shift in his chair before speaking with them again.
"You're saying Cassandra Williams is the center for all this?" Johnnie asked them.
Matt replied, "She'd have to known about them to get a foot in the door."
Ripley agreed with Matt and added, "I've heard this before. Follow the money. I bet you'll find quite a bit of people in your council knows about them.''