Tobias walked down the steps and stood on the stone patio. His silk trousers clung to his frame like a second skin. He wiped a mixture of rainwater and congealing blood from his forehead.
"Spread out further!" he shrieked at the additional twenty-odd cultists who had swarmed from the lower glass door. "He's only one man! Scour the hedges, check the trellises! If he breathes, I want to hear his lungs stop!"
He then pointed and called out to four of his brothers. "Wait, you four, stay. That sneaky rat likes to play in the dark. Gather around me. Now."
"""Yes, Father!""" They ran back to Tobias and formed a protective wall around him.
The search began as the cultists moved in pairs of two. The tension was thick enough to choke on. Every rustle of a wind-whipped rosebush, every splash of a heavy droplet against a leaf, made them jump. They were the hunters, yet they moved with the frantic, wide-eyed gait of prey.
Then, the first sound cut through the gale.
"ARGHH–!!"
