Devil in Detroit | Detroit: Become Human

𝐈𝐕. BREAKDOWN

CHAPTER FOUR

DETROIT, MICHIGAN

( November 24th, 2032 )

CHRIS MILLER HATED SITTING AT his desk all day. Anyone who knew him knew he wanted to be out in the field, actually taking action against the criminals who roamed the streets of Detroit. He didn't want to draw up the paperwork for his co-workers who actually got to be part of the adventure; he didn't want to sit behind the glass and watch Gavin interview suspects before leading the accused to their respective cell in the department. He wanted to be the one interviewing, the one chasing down suspects and putting them behind the glass.

So when Detective Collins told him that he needed a partner out in the field, Chris was quick to offer his own services.

Ben drove them down the streets of Detroit, Chris in the passenger's seat. The car was quiet.

Chris sighed, picking up the beige folder Ben had handed him. "Would this guy even look the same?" he asked, holding up the picture of Evan Portman, the suspect they were looking for. Then sixteen, the picture was taken for the high school yearbook a year before he dropped out of school during his senior year. "Thought the kid said Portman's hooked on Red Ice," Chris added, staring at the picture. Dark hair, dark eyes, white skin. A charming smile.

Ben shrugged. "Don't know. Reed said they're both on it. Guy probably got the kid hooked on it." He sighed, clicking his tongue. "Poor kid."

Chris hummed in agreement, putting the picture back in the folder. "Well, let's bring in a kidnapper," he sighed, putting the file on the dashboard.

They found themselves on the darker streets of Detroit, with run-down houses and hot spots for drug deals. Chris didn't know where exactly Ben was taking him, so he kept his eye out for anything interesting. There were barely any people walking about, and those that were kept their heads down, hoods covering their faces as the car drove past. Chris sighed, glancing at Ben again.

"So why here? What makes you think Portman is just chilling in a drug house?" Chris asked.

Ben shrugged. "Context clues, Miller. He's a druggie hooked on Red Ice, this neighborhood is a hot spot for Ice deals. I've busted more than enough of these houses to know what goes on in them, never mind the number of times Reed and I have gone undercover to get the know-how on deals." Chris hummed in acknowledgment, nodding. ". . . And the kid gave us the address of the house they used to get high at," Ben admitted, chuckling softly. Chris scoffed, trying to hide his smirk.

"Uh-huh. Maybe Tina will make detective one day, seems easy enough," he teased. Ben grinned.

Ben slowed the car to a stop in front of an older, severely decaying house. The two got out of the car, closing the doors behind them. Chris leaned against the car, crossing his arms as he stared up at the house. It looked like it would collapse after just one earthquake; weeds and vines snaked their way up the white walls, painted with long-dried paint that had been chipped to hell and back, some of it peeling off the walls. The roof was sinking in, and Chris was hesitant to go inside in fear that his last moments would be spent in a drug house.

Ben came to stand on the sidewalk a foot or two away. "You ready?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

Chris sighed. "Let's get this over with," he agreed.

They kept their guns at their sides, not wanting to start a fight just as they stepped into the house. The door opened easily, creaking as it swung inward. Ben took the lead, which Chris was silently thankful for. The inside of the house looked as though it had been demolished; any walls that separated the kitchen, living room, and downstairs bathroom were completely gone, leaving a large space to hang out in. And hang out in is what people were doing—maybe over thirty people laying on the ground, bags of Red Ice spread around them. Some were sleeping, some smoking, all of them looking high out of their minds.

Chris grimaced, sharing a look with Ben. "I'll call it in," Ben muttered.

A young woman sitting near one of the couches looked up at them, eyes red. She took a puff of her cigarette, staring at them. "Who the hell are you?" she asked, voice rough. She immediately began coughing, turning her face into her elbow as she hacked up her lungs. Chris winced when she looked at them again and he saw blood around her mouth, staining her lips and teeth dark red. He felt a little bad for her if he was being honest.

"Don't worry about it," he said. She shrugged, going back to her cigarette

"We're looking for Evan Portman!" Ben called out. Chris frowned at the blunt statement, not sure if announcing why they were there was a good idea when they were surrounded by people on a drug that could cause rage. But his attention was drawn to the back of the room, where people seemed to be stirring, actually moving because of Ben's words.

A few seconds later, someone bolted, slamming open the back door and disappearing. Chris shouted, racing after them while Ben went out the front door, hoping to cut them off. Chris nearly ran into the brick wall outside when he stumbled out of the house, racing after the figure darting away.

The person stumbled as they ran, falling onto the ground with a pained grunt. Chris pushed himself faster, stopping when he got to the fallen body. He lifted the person off the floor, pushing them against the wall with enough force to keep them pinned there, but making sure it wasn't enough to hurt.

It was a man, taller than Chris by about four inches. Dark hair, dark eyes, white skin. Chris was sure this was who he was looking for, but he knew he needed to check.

"Evan Portman?" Chris asked, pulling the man's hands behind his back.

Evan wheezed. It took Chris a second to realize he was laughing. "What's it to you?" he sneered.

Chris scowled, clipping the handcuffs around his wrists. "You're under arrest for the kidnapping, assault, and attempted murder of Jacob Rae."

Evan's smile fell, mouth snapping shut and eyes narrowing. "That little bitch," he muttered. Chris rolled his eyes, pulling Evan off the wall and turning him toward the car. He nodded to Ben, who rushed over to open the back door. "Aren't you going to read me my rights?" Evan mocked as Chris forced his head down to get him into the back seat of the car.

". . . You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to speak to an attorney . . ."