Wild Tiger Chase - Chapter 21: Chapter 21

— Rob —
Rob rolled his eyes. He prepared himself to reveal who the young man was, but....
"Anhangá!" Léon opened a wide smile. He jumped, more than sidestepped towards him, keeping the rock between them to hide his naked body. "What are you doing here?"
Rob's eyebrows shot up. "How... how can you recognize him?"
"How could I not?"
Léon's already-wide smile became even bigger when Anhangá's human form reached the lakeshore. He held Léon's pants up and smiled. "Is this yours, sweet one?"
"It is! Toss it for me."
Anhangá stepped forward and his shape warped, disappearing through an invisible curtain. His loafers stopped on top of the rock behind Rob and Léon. Anhangá looked down and smiled.
Rob gritted his teeth. That smile wasn't sweet, welcoming, or anything but predatory.
"Well, well, well. Aren't you two lovebirds simply profane?" Anhangá looked from Rob to Léon, the bags under his eyes bulging to cover part of his bottomless black eyes. "What are you two doing here?" He offered the dark jeans in his hands to Léon. "Actually, you don't need to answer. It's plastered all over your faces. And on Léon's chest, too."
Rob woke up from his shock and laced an arm around Léon's waist, pulling him behind his broader frame. "Stop gawking at him. What are you doing here? Why did you come?" He snatched Léon's pants from Anhangá's hands. "I thought I had told you to stay hidden."
A hand reached from under Rob's arm and tugged at the jeans. Rob released it.
"With all due respect, bitter one, nothing you said would keep me away from this place during this moment." Anhangá sat down, crossed his legs, and rested his elbows on his knees. Thanks to the form he was wearing, so much smaller and leaner than his real one, that pose made him look like the human, amiable, harmless intern he was supposed to be.
The one he wasn't.
Rob shifted in place. Under The Mayor's care, he was raised to believe Anhangá was evil and only wanted to control him—and as ironic as it sounded, considering that's exactly what The Mayor did to him, Rob still had his reservations about the ancient Entity who acted as his guide... sometimes. Anhangá had never actively tried to make Rob trust him. He was unfazed most of the time, taking one step after the other and doing nothing but whatever he wanted.
And yes, sometimes he wanted to help—or that's what Rob thought—but other times, all he seemed to want was to seed chaos and harvest entertainment. Rob didn't get him.
Léon stepped away. "The water level is too high here; I'll dress up at the shore."
"Should we go too?" Anhangá got up, eyes glimmering.
"No." Rob's reservations doubled when Léon was involved. "You should've stayed in the precinct to keep an eye on things." He inched closer. Rob made sure to keep Anhangá's amused expression focused on him while Léon splashed away to dress up. "You said you'd keep me informed about the shite happening in Cidade Santa."
"The only thing worth keeping an eye on in this dimension stands right before me." Anhangá's smile widened; his outstretched arms showed Rob and, a few meters away from them, Léon. "I'm eager to discover how you two will deal with what's to come if neither of you have your full powers."
Rob sighed and turned around. Léon had his pants on—and mostly wet—and now struggled to put on his shirt. He looked thinner, sadder, and more lost than ever before. Four years had passed since their fight against The Mayor, but the consequences were still there.
He was looking at Léon's hollower shell.
"Is that sadness I smell?" Anhangá murmured. "What is it, bitter boy?"
Rob's promise came back to him like a hammer to the chest. "I..." his voice faltered. "I promised I'd help him." He leaned against the rock. He lowered his gaze. "I didn't."
Anhangá slid forward and stopped close to him. His usual fragrance of burnt pinewood and passion fruit had a hint of night-dame and açai this time—an earthy, but sweet scent that shrouded Rob's naked chest and tightened its grip the closer he got. It was a familiar fragrance that calmed him, numbed his mind, and reminded him of the ancient power that used to pulse within his veins.
Rob missed being able to decode people like this; by their smell. With his tattoos gone, being around Anhangá was now the only way he could do it.
Maybe that's the reason why Rob didn't react when Anhangá rested a hand on his head, caressing his short hair. "My poor bitter one," he whispered. His hand rested on the back of Rob's neck. A cold, piercing pain flashed in his skin like the puncture of a needle. "Take in a deep breath," Anhangá whispered.
Rob did.
He choked.
He hacked and coughed, the reek too much to take in.
Rob clasped a hand over his mouth, locking his throat. "Where does this smell comes from?"
At his back, he heard the distant sound of Léon's voice and several splashes. His knees lost strength and buckled. Underwater, the smell disappeared, and his body sunk, irresponsive. A pair of hands held his arms and yanked him up again.
"Bhalu?"
Rob's eyes met Léon's worried gaze. With his help, he got up, coughing lake water. "I'm all right. I—" Rob ran a hand across his face to wipe the annoying droplets. He took a moment to choose his words "—smelled decay."
Anhangá's lips curled in a smile, but the stillness in his gaze froze any warmth his expression could have emanated. The whites in his eyes darkened, and his shoulders sunk as if carrying the weight of the whole world.
"Yes, bitter boy. Which means we have a lot to talk about."
Léon let out a sigh. He exchanged a look with Anhangá, then looked down at his drenched clothes. "I should build a fire. We might stay here for quite some time."
Little more than a few sentences in Léon's story, Rob noticed the disease affecting the trees had a striking resemblance to the mysterious weapon used in the murders he and Rafaela were investigating. With a racing heart, he jumped to his feet and went back to Caidara's cottage, sure that Rafa should be there too to listen to all that.
Rob expected to hear her insights about the investigation and maybe an additional point of view about the possible use of cosmic trace in them. Maybe Rafa could start teaching Léon about his powers—and maybe Léon could help them in exchange.
"... So that's what's happening to the forest around these parts," Rob said. His hand slid from his chin, raised across his face, and lost itself among his short locks.
Léon nodded. "I'm sure Caidara would have corrected me if I had said something wrong."
Caidara gave him a toothy grin filled with yellow teeth and nodded.
"It can't be just a disease," Rafaela whispered. She opened and closed her lips, then grunted. "I can't say much about this"—she eyed Phillip and Caidara—"but there are too many connections between the victims for it to be considered random." She took another puff of the ever-shrinking cigar between her fingers and passed it to the waiting hand at her right.
What Rob didn't expect was to find Rafaela, Phillip, and Caidara sitting on a bench outside of the cottage, sharing quiet laughs and one of Caidara's cigars. Rob had no choice but to extend the invitation to Phillip and Caidara too. And while the latter was undoubtedly a good addition to their discussion....
Phillip took the cigar, his eyes piercing Rafaela's as if challenging her to look away. A corner of his lips curled up in what looked like a smirk while his thin lips draped around the brown curve of the cigar.
What was he doing?
"Uh..." Rafaela's forehead creased in confusion as if her thoughts echoed Rob's. She blinked and faced Léon. Maybe sensing her stare, Léon moved his gaze from Phillip to her. "The corpses we found had the same appearance you said Phillip had. Black veins, dark fingers, purple lips. But in the corpses, the internal organs and bones were fractured as if the victims had swallowed a roman candle or something." Rafaela crossed her arms and gestured at Anhangá. "In Fofo's last autopsy, he even said some of the organs were melting."
"Like the trees." Phillip blew a ring of smoke and passed the cigar to his side. "Which makes me think I'd be another corpse in your autopsy table if Caidara hadn't helped me." He narrowed his eyes. "Maybe you two should question Caidara. What do the cops in those movies always say?" He lowered his voice. "Where were you on the night of June the third?"
Rob used all his willpower to avoid an eye-roll. They had spent the last hour sharing information, and while Rob's body was already tired of being on the cold, hard floor—and his patience for Phillip's comments almost ending— he knew there was a long road ahead in that conversation.
"Don't be ridiculous, boy. I just redirected the little girl's sickness to you. I made you a hero," Caidara said in an ironic voice.
"Bloody hell," Rob mumbled. "Please tell me you don't usually do this, Caidara."
The old woman scoffed and took a puff from her cigar.
"She wouldn't, Beto." Rafaela massaged her chin. "But there's something different in all this already. Caidara redirected the original sickness to Phillip. Considering the fever, I don't doubt he'd get exactly like those melting tress out there. Our victims are a different case." She leaned back against the tree behind her and looked at Anhangá. "Fofo, anything in all this makes your whiskers twitch?"
Anhangá perked up on his seat. His personality changed from water to wine every time Rafaela was around—and while Rob had seen it happening for the past three years or so, it was still a strange sight to see. He knew Anhangá was just trying to keep up appearances, though; Rafa couldn't know Rob had let Anhangá free.
"I mean... compared to that last corpse we found, can you recall any differences at all?" Rafa tried again.
Anhangá hummed, tapping a forefinger on his chin. "I wish I had my autopsy records with me."
"Wait, how can you be responsible for autopsies?" Phillip looked at Rafaela. "You introduced him as your intern, didn't you? This guy looks eighteen. Twenty tops."
"So?" Anhangá blinked a few times and leaned forward.
Phillip crossed his arms. "So my mom was the commissary. The youngest ME resident in her precinct was like... 28."
Rafaela's eyebrows knit together as a cold breeze made the tree leaves dance. Anhangá licked his lips slowly, shoulders hunched up in expectation; something red flicked in his gaze. If Rob didn't know better, he'd think that was just the fire reflected in the round coals of Anhangá's eyes. But he knew the Elder Spirit long enough to recognize the anger in him.
Caidara seemed to notice, too, for her smart brown eyes narrowed. The spell of silence felt like an eternity before Rafaela said,
"Quite honestly, the fourth precinct just can't turn down any offer of help. There's too few of us working there, and Cidade Santa is always thankful for eager younglings." She reached for the cigar Caidara was offering her while Anhangá's muscles relaxed. "Go on, Fofo."
Phillip shifted on his seat and averted his eyes to the side, crossing his arms.
"Right. So... my records." Anhangá's smile widened. "I need to check them to be completely sure, but I think the strength of the internal burst has been decreasing on each new corpse. Or that's what I think, considering the size of the bone fragments and what the victim, uh... looked like. You know. The size of the cavity in the victim's chest, the size of their pieces, and all that. Last time, the blast was still strong enough to fracture bones, but it also melted some of the victim's organs."
"So we might be dealing with two versions of the disease, right?" Phillip said.
"Yeah. The original one—that affected the trees first—and a second one, that...." Rafaela trailed off.
As the group waited for her to complete the sentence, the atmosphere felt even heavier.
"I can't believe we're having a conversation like this," Léon mumbled, trying to school his grimace. "I'm glad Pipo isn't here."
Anhangá scratched the back of his neck. "I, uh... sorry. I don't think there's a gentler way of saying all this."
"Humans do like to sugarcoat death," Caidara murmured. Her eyes pierced Anhangá's, studying his reaction.
He looked confused. Anhangá was becoming a hell of an actor.
Phillip and Rafaela shared a glance while Rob raised an arm in a silent invitation. Léon scooted to the side, letting him wrap his body in a comforting side hug.
"Well, whatever humans do, I'm sure we will all do whatever we can to protect your brother from conversations like this," Rafaela said.
Rob nodded. "And from the people who are after him, Leo. You can count on us."
Rafaela looked at Rob for a moment. She patted Léon's arm, offering him a commiserate smile, then cleared her throat. "And I suggest you accept the protection, Léon." Her expression grew serious. "Cause if it's true that this disease—this thing—removes the power trace from a living being's DNA, the differences in the corpses can only mean one thing..."
"Whatever it is, the second disease is evolving. Someone must be experimenting with it and using it. And I bet they're the person behind the thirteen corpses in our precinct."