Act II- Ambush Predator

First, there was silence, then it quickly erupted into screaming.

"You killed her!" Rocky exclaimed, shooting backward,

An uproar of mass panic tore into the room, trauma and fear staining the eyes of each innocent pup now standing before the blood that had been spilled for the first time in their lives. Each dog went wide-eyed, jumping back and screaming in terror. Everyone with the exception of Marshall withdrew as far as they could from the body, nearly embedding themselves into the wall behind them. Marshall stood frozen to the ground, a highly distressed look on his face as if his whole world had been shattered. He wasn't moving, lying still as if he had been paralyzed to the floor as he gazed into the eyes of the murdered cockapoo. This wasn't a dream, it was real, it had really happened right in front of their eyes.

Skye was dead.

Chase was still locked in his fighting stance, but any hostility he could've had was long diminished. He couldn't believe what he had done, initially, but then his mind quickly turned to denial.

"Wait-" he muttered blankly, "no," he searched for anything he could say, not believing his own eyes. "Wait, wait-" he finally came to, stuttering as he swiftly returned the gun into the pup-pack.

"Why would you do that?!" Rocky cried from across the room, pressed up against the wall,

"Skye!" Zuma howled in distress,

Chase stared at Skye's body as if he couldn't even process that he had killed her. The fearful cries of his friends echoed from across the room, Rocky tried to yell for Marshall to get back, but the Dalmation still stood frozen to the floor. Narrowing his eyes for a moment. he finally remembered why he pulled the trigger in the first place. Shaking his head, he sought to take control of the situation.

"Everyone calm down!" Chase barked, taking an authoritative posture and stepping over Skye, "everything is secure!"

"What do mean secure?!" Rocky demanded, "you killed her!"

"It wasn't Skye!" protested the Shepherd, "it was a creature, a monster of some kind! I've been talking to Captain Cyrus, a parasitic creature is loose in the city, that's why they're here, and that's why you should've been listening to me!"

The remaining dogs stared at him with a mix of fear and confusion.

"Feroxmalis, that's its name!" Chase informed them, "it's a single-celled, shapeshifting organism that can hide inside you and take over your body!" he nodded, a wave of triumph sweeping over him, "it had Skye, that's why I had to kill her!"

"How do you know that?!" Zuma cried out, "how could any of us have known that?"

The police dog gave a reassuring nod, "you couldn't, but everything's okay now, I'm taking control here,"

"Control?" whined the uncertain mixed breed, "what do you mean?"

Looking back at Skye's body, Chase couldn't help but wince. It was feral instinct that made him pull the trigger on the dog, and it was highly difficult to withhold his own cries of dismay. A crack of thunder sounded from outside, and the rain slightly intensified. The storm hadn't been making anything easier, but at least now all problems had been solved. The ugly truth of the matter was simply that it had to be done, Skye was infected and had to be stopped. It was his responsibility to protect his team, and if someone had to go to meet that goal, then Skye was just means to an end.

Chase looked back at his friends, and nodded confidently, "it means if you all do exactly as I say, we can secure this area and I can contact the ACG. Once they've cornered Feroxmalis, they'll be out of Adventure Bay, and we can all sleep soundly again."

"But..." Zuma quivered, "but Skye..."

"Look I'm sad too," the Shepherd shot back, "but do you realize that it's not her? If I hadn't done that, we could've all been at risk!"

Zuma looked to the floor, tears running down his face, although he was making an effort to process what he was hearing. Rocky was clinging to Zuma, almost like he was trying to hide within him like the Labrador was a protective shield. Marshall still hadn't moved or said a word, a traumatized look still displayed on his spotted face. Rubble was cowering in the corner, too afraid to say anything. Chase, however, was brimming with newfound confidence, overjoyed that the erratic noise in his mind was now gone along with the threat to Adventure Bay. All he had to do now was clean up the mess.

"Now here's the first thing I need you all to do," he began, "go to your kennels and stay there, do not leave The Lookout grounds."

"What? Why?" Zuma questioned, narrowing his eyes,

"Keeping you there is the best way to keep you all accounted for," the Shepherd explained, "also, I need everything and everyone secured while I deal with Skye, and when the ACG arrives,"

"They're coming here?" Rocky went wide-eyed, breath growing shaky,

"Yes, but you'll be in your kennels, remember?" he pointed out, "just stay in there and don't leave, I'll have everything taken care of." he turned and walked back over to where he had left the blood reader. It was still sitting on the floor from when it had been dropped during the uproar, but it was mostly unharmed. With his friends locked down, he just needed Skye's blood to verify the parasite and it would all be over. "Now go," he commanded, "I'll come around in a few minutes to check on you."

After a moment of hesitation, Zuma nodded and slowly left the wall, Rocky still glued to him like flypaper. Rubble followed them shortly behind, keeping his head and tail low. They paused for a moment as they approached Chase, almost fearing to be near him. The Shepherd stepped aside and gestured to the elevator, and after a short look at where Skye had fallen, they pressed the button to open the doors. Zuma looked back, noticing Marshall had still not yet moved.

"Marshall?" Zuma called out to his friend, "come on, do what Chase says,"

The Dalmatian was unresponsive, and Chase raised an eyebrow. Zuma turned around and walked over to the paralyzed dog, gently coming up to his side, "Marshall? Hey," he tapped a brown paw to the firefighter's shoulder, causing him to visibly flinch. After a moment of hesitant breathing, Marshall's blue eyes flicked toward Zuma.

"Come on, we're leaving," the Lab said as he moved his paw to Marshall's back, gently pushing him along,

Chase watched his Dalmation friend get led into the elevator before the door finally shut between them all and they descended down. He was finally alone, the Shepherd let out a deep breath and prepared himself. Looking before Skye's body he knew the first thing he had to do was move it. Nothing good came out of leaving a dead dog laced with a parasite in The Lookout, he had to find a place to move it. Taking her out in the rain was a bad idea, as all the water would wash away the blood and likely carry the Feroxmalis parasite into the grass.

As his eyes rested above the dead animal, a low growl emitted from him. He almost took a step back, remembering Cyrus's warning about the nature of the creature. Feroxmalis, if believed it was compromised, would erupt from the body and go on the attack. Skye had not moved since the bullet entered her head, yet Chase made sure every other dog was locked up in their kennels outside, far away from the contamination site upstairs. Even with the dangers, the puppy was naturally curious about his parasitical adversary. Gently lowering himself a little, he slightly tilted his head.

"What are you?" he asked, wondering if he'd even get an answer.

No response, Chase sat backward and tried again, "can you understand me?"

His words fell on deaf ears, and the Shepherd gave an agitated huff and stood up. There weren't many places on the upper floors of the tower to take Skye, but he did have knowledge of a boiler room that rested underground, built underneath the tower. It wasn't a place you could access any time of day, it required special clearance that only Ryder carried. However, Chase still possessed the files and data he pulled behind Ryder's back, giving him illegal information which contained the clearance codes for the boiler room. He knew there were plenty of metal tables, tools, seclusion, and a whole furnace in there, making it the ideal place to do some bloodwork.

"Alright, come on you," Chase muttered, leaning to grab Skye's leg in his teeth- then instantly stopped, realizing that was a terribly stupid idea as she was laced with a parasite. Quickly pulling his head back, he looked around the room and spotted the blanket Skye had wrapped herself in. Not the ideal tool for transportation but it would do, and he made his way over to pick it up. If Feroxmalis needed constant blood, protein, and wet environments to survive, sitting on a dry blanket was likely something it wouldn't do, so Chase felt it was safe enough to grab the fabric in his teeth. That information also meant that the creature was probably not hiding in a small puddle or drop of blood that had been spilled from the gunshot. It could survive in blood, but abandoning its protein-providing cocoon would put it in a bad position. Even if it was hiding in a blood puddle, where would it even go? There was nothing but the metal floor of the tower, no dirt or land to escape in. It was a safe assumption that Feroxmalis was choosing not to escape Skye. Chase pulled the blanket over to the body and laid it out flat beside her. Making sure his paws were protected by an end of the fabric, he gently pushed Skye onto the blanket and wrapped her up. With the four corners laid out on the side, Chase quickly turned the blanket into a body-carrying bag. He leaned down and grabbed the corners, now dragging the dead cockapoo into the elevator, also making sure to push in the bag that contained the blood reader. It didn't take much effort to bring her in. She was a remarkably light animal, after all, which also made bagging her in the blanket significantly easier.

Securing the body bag in the center of the elevator and making sure nothing leaked out, Chase walked over to the control panel that consisted of two buttons. He reached his paw out and held the "down" button for a solid six seconds, and a hidden panel opened up just underneath, revealing a keypad.

"Alright, what was it again?" Chase lowered his ears, squinting his eyes as he looked over each numbered button, "six, two, three, three, um..." he hit each one, stopping for a moment, "I think seven came after?" It took him a moment, but he finally inputted the correct combination, and the elevator doors closed as it began to move downward. The Shepherd sat back and took the moment to breathe, trying to ease his nerves. There was still panic in the air, but a few deep breaths would likely ease Chase into moving forward. The emergency radio Cyrus had given him still dangled from his collar, just itching to be pressed to call in the heavy artillery. In just a few hours from now, everything would be solved. The creature would be contained, the ACG would leave forever, Cyrus would commend him, a funeral would be held for Skye, and all his friends would finally understand how much he sacrificed to keep them safe.

The light died from the elevator as it moved underground, shrouding Chase in darkness as he took some deep breathing exercises. It all came to a slow halt, and the doors opened, washing him in hot air. The boiler room was a small, slightly cramped area bathed in red and orange lights. Metal tables sat against the walls, carrying tools like someone had left them there years ago, an ideal place to get to work on Skye. At the end of the room was a massive metal furnace, sitting imposingly as small embers flickered through the slitted door at the front. Dozens of pipes leeched out of the structure, groping along the walls and ceiling, ready to deliver gas and hot water wherever it was desired. Small blasts of steam periodically hissed from the pipes, one even catching Chase in his side as he passed, causing him to jump as the hot air hit him. Chase was not a fan of the near-scorching temperature, but he hoped the heat would agitate the creature enough to emerge more clearly through Skye's blood.

"Okay you," Chase panted, lifting Skye up onto the table and removing the blanket, "show yourself,"

He walked back to the elevator where the small bag still lay across the floor, beginning to sweat under his fur from the heat. He nosed open the bag and retrieved the small, blood-reading device, along with the small cotton tips he used for swabbing. It took him a few minutes to align Skye's body properly on the table, making sure to position her in a way where if Feroxmalis erupted out, he'd be able to quickly push the table and sweep her into the furnace.

He swabbed the wound in her head, the killing blow that Chase had inflicted on his own will. He wasn't proud of what he had to do, but if the threat was secured, he'd be able to turn himself in for the action, owning up to what he had done. With the tip now stained a bright crimson red, he stuck it into the machine, his heart beginning to race. The screen flicked on, processing the DNA sample.

"Come on," Chase growled, staring down at the little device, "show me!"

The small machine merely beeped in response, working away at reading the blood. Chase narrowed his eyes, it didn't take nearly this long when he tested his own blood. It had its results in mere seconds, why was it taking its time now? He was growing angry, even more from the heat, and Chase was about to lash until he spotted a small detail on the screen. It was a little symbol of a thermometer, blinking rapidly onscreen, and he quickly relaxed as he realized what was wrong. The excessive heat of the room was slowing down the machine, forcing it to exert more power in cooling itself than actually running its task.

"I should've just done this upstairs," Chase muttered, exasperated. He was starting to feel nauseous from the heat himself, and he made the decision to return outside and check on the others. Hopefully returning the reader to cool air would speed up the process.

-.-

Night had shrouded Adventure Bay when Chase emerged outside into the rain. The storm had not yet settled, further confirmed by a crack of thunder and a flash of lightning. Chase shrugged it off, and gently placed the blood reader in a spot where it wouldn't be waterlogged from the rain, leaning it against the wall of the elevator but making sure to keep its doors open. He was hoping the cold air from the rain would cool it off and give him the results he wanted. Seeing how he was already outside, he figured it would be a good idea to check in on everyone else, and make sure they were abiding by his rules. Chase stretched for a moment, before placing his paws on the wet pavement and trekking out into the storm. Deciding to check Rocky first, he passed under the slide that wrapped around The Lookout, which was acting as a waterfall as the rain collected in it.

Approaching the green kennel, Chase took a breath and knocked on the door, "Rocky?"

"What," came the muffled voice from inside,

"Rocky, it's Chase, I'm just checking on you,"

"Chase, in all honesty, I really don't want to talk to you right now,"

The Shepherd sighed, looking off to the side as he shook off the water that had collected in his fur, "I guess that's fair, just seeing if you're okay, you know?"

Rocky's voice came from the other side of the door, "I'm not okay, Chase, no one is,"

"That's fine, just know that everything will go back to normal in a few hours," the police dog tried to reassure,

"I highly doubt that,"

After the short conversation, Chase knew the mixed breed wasn't interested in talking. He didn't blame the dog, he wouldn't blame any of them if they were currently in distress. Witnessing their friend be executed for something they didn't understand would sow confusion and few among the dogs, but in time they would stand strong. He moved across the lot as the rain flooded down above him, coming to Rubble's kennel and seeing that his door was actually open. The bulldog was lounging inside, trailing his paw along the wet concrete.

"Is it my turn to die now?" the smaller dog gazed up his amber eyes at the Shepherd,

Chase hesitated for a moment, appalled at the statement, "what- no! There was a threat in the tower and I secured it."

"Sure, I guess," shrugged the construction worker, then stood up, "I think... I think I'm going to sleep now,"

"You're tired? After all that?"

"No," Rubble turned around, walking into his den, "I would just really like to get this day over with,"

Chase tried to end it on a happier note, "oh, sleep well," he got no response as the kennel door was shut in his face, "fine then," he muttered quietly. Deciding that Rubble was just stressed, he turned around and made his way to the next kennel until something caught his eye. He stopped in the rain, his vision snapping to it as his ears shot into the air, all his senses suddenly on alarm.

There was a figure moving in the darkness, a shape roving its way across the grounds like a looming predator. It was standing just outside the range of the outdoor lights, concealing it in the darkness of the night. It moved slowly, seemingly pulsating as the rain fell around it, and Chase's eyes widened. He quickly snarled, barking out to the shape, "hey, you!"

The shape turned around and spotted Chase, showing initial signs of hesitation, but put its leg down and stood firm. Chase took a step back as the figure turned and began walking toward him.

"Dude, what the hell?" Zuma griped, walking into the light,

Chase relaxed, breathing a sigh of relief but still held his frustration, "I told you to stay in your kennel!"

"No, you said we couldn't leave the Lookout grounds," the Lab shot back, an edge of sass in his voice,

The Shepherd leaned his ears back, narrowing his eyes, "no, I'm pretty sure I said at some point to stay in your damn kennels."

"Oh my God, Chase," Zuma put a wet paw to his face, "quit being so pushy, I came out because I needed to think,"

"About?" the police dog pressed,

"About what I'm supposed to do after watching my own friend get killed!" the Lab almost snarled, "you think we're just going to walk off and carry on after that?"

Chase stopped and looked away, his tail drooping to the floor. Zuma had a point, didn't help that he was always the one who wasn't afraid to speak up. "I don't," Chase confessed, "I'm sorry you had to see that,"

Zuma looked at him for a long moment, "I'm not the one you should be saying that to," he inquired, "did you see Marshall? He's pretty much destroyed, if you're trying to console anyone, it should be him."

"Marshall?" Chase asked,

The Lab turned around, "if you haven't seen him yet, I suggest you go now." he began walking off into the rain, "before he does something drastic,"

The Shepherd nodded, then looked back up, "Oh, Zuma-"

The brown Lab whipped around with an unamused look, "yes, I'll stay on the grounds,"

"Oh, no," Chase shook his head, "I just think, it's cool how you're getting better in your... speech thing," he said nervously, "I think that's something you should be proud of,"

Zuma merely raised an eyebrow, then sharply turned to vanish into the darkness.

"Worth a shot," Chase muttered, watching the Labrador go. He sat in the rain for a minute, thinking over how he possibly could've done things differently. The rain ran down his head and disguised the tears that were flooding his eyes. He appreciated having a moment for a quick cry, it was healthy to let your emotions run freely after all. He let himself cry out his stress for a moment before wiping his face and going to see Marshall.

Appearing before his red kennel, Chase hesitated for a moment before knocking softly, "Marsh? You in there?"

"I'm here," came the weak voice from behind the door, even while muffled, anyone could hear him and tell the puppy was in complete anguish.

"Can I come in?" the Shepherd offered, already moving his nose under the handle to the door,

"I guess if you want to," Marshall meekly responded, and Chase lifted up the door.

Chase made sure to shake himself off before walking in, knowing tracking water everywhere would just make the Dalmation agitated. Walking into the kennel, the small den was warmly lit by a gently flickering flame. Marshall's kennel was unique in that it contained a small fireplace where one could actually light a fire in. It wasn't big enough to overpower the kennel, having just enough room in its wall compartment to keep a humble fire burning. A small chimney atop the red home carried the small puffs of smoke emitted by the flame safely outside. Marshall's own firefighting prowess gave him the necessary knowledge on how to kindle and care for the flame without destroying his kennel.

He could see that the Dalmation had already started a tiny flame, giving the kennel a cozy and warm feel to it as he walked in. Marshall was sitting before the fire, head bowed almost as if he was praying to it, begging any higher deity up there to be rescued from the nightmare his life had fallen into.

"Hey buddy, you okay?" Chase offered, trying not to make any sudden moves,

Marshall was unresponsive, gently shaking over his fire. The Shepherd gently laid down on his stomach, eager to console his friend without stepping over any lines. The Dalmation was clearly under the severe effects of trauma, endlessly gazing into the burning flame, searching for meaning.

"Look," Chase began, "I'm sorry," he sighed, looking away in shame, "I'm really... sorry you had to see that. That wasn't pretty and I probably could've handled that better," his voice slightly cracked as he confessed, "but I had to do it, everyone's lives were at risk."

The Dalmation gave no reply.

"You matter to me, okay?" Chase pleaded, "I just... hope that you'll see why that had to happen."

"Skye..." Marshall cracked,

"It wasn't her," the police dog took a step toward him, "I don't want to scare you more than I already have, so just know that it wasn't her."

The spotted dog began sniffling, prompting Chase to move closer, slowly coming up on his back, "whatever happens," the Shepherd whispered, "I'll always be here to protect you."

Marshall slowly turned his head around, revealing his tearful eyes to his friend, "is anyone else going to die?"

"No," Chase came forward confidently, "No, I'll never let that happen," he held up his arms and wrapped them around Marshall, pulling him into a hug, "I'll never let anything hurt you," they stood motionless for a few seconds until Marshall draped his own arms over Chase, nestling into his shoulder as he returned the hug, promptly crying into Chase's fur. It was agonizing to see Marshall like this, emotionally and psychologically broken from witnessing something as vicious as death. He was just a puppy, they all were, and now fear had shrouded their usual joyful lifestyle.

"I will protect you, all of you," Chase repeated, cradling the Dalmation, "you just have to trust me, and do as I say,"

Marshall sniffed for a moment before letting go, "okay,"

He gave the frail dog a warm smile, "stay in your kennel, Marshall, I'll say when you can come out,"

They broke apart as Chase gave some final reassuring words. He knew Marshall was sensitive, and he'd do whatever it took to help him feel better, but first things first. The blood reader was surely ready by now, so the Shepherd gave the Dalmation a long look before finally turning and leaving the den. Passing through the rain, he briefly saw Zuma sitting nearby, facing away from The Lookout. Deciding not to bother him, Chase considered having only one dog outside probably wasn't too harmful.

Making his way back to the small machine, surely cooled down by now as it rested still in the elevator, the heat within it soothed away. Sure enough, the screen now had a blinking light, signaling the test was complete. Chase looked down at its screen expecting all questions to be answered. Instead, a wave of confusion hit him, narrowing his eyes and blinking in bewilderment at what he saw,

"Wait," he said, puzzled, "what?"