He fled.
Even as he heard his friends scream, he fled, running through the woods. His eyes were burning, his heart beating, but he kept running. He did not stop until he reached the highway, and the little car that was parked alongside it.
As he drove in direction of the city, he saw his pursuers in the rear-view mirror. No, no no! he thought, as his trusty old Beetle couldn't keep up. He reached the suburbs. Hoping for an escape in the labyrinth of streets and alleys, he took a sudden turn to the right. It wasn't until his pursuers cut in front of him that he abandoned the vehicle, and ran once again.
Into the alley, ampulla in hand. He had to abandon it here, retrieve it later. Pray that he could tell someone where he'd left it.
"Bockley Street 23," he murmured to himself. That was the address of the house he was standing right next to. He worked quickly now. Tossing the ampulla over the hedge, into the garden. A splash. "Fuck!" he said to himself. Oh well, no use worrying now. He took the other ampulla he had, the emergency decoy, and shattered it on the pavement. Just as the guards peeked around the corner. They walked towards him. They surely couldn't capture him, could they? Not kill him? "Great," the leader exclaimed, "you've smashed it. You realized how stupid this little escape was, then?" Jeremy did not respond. The leader seemed to interpret this as submission, as he simply smiled. Then he looked over Jeremy's shoulder, giving a sign. Jeremy didn't have time to turn fully around before he felt a metallic *thud* on his forehead, and the world became black.