Dredd: The Law Giver

by Idneon357

Surviving the war was supposed to be the hard part. But, when the remaining police and government spend more time arresting people for stealing food than investigating a suicide cult throwing "end of the world parties" a group of vigilantes following a mysterious figure called only "The Law Giver" must fight to restore law and order and save humanity as they once knew it.

Prologue

Before Judge Dredd, there was the Law Giver;

Before the Law Giver, there was death.

The shimmer of air rose upward from the hot desert pavement; blistering dirt giving up its dying breath to a careless sky. Empty shell casings glittered like flakes of gold in a dry river bed as a lizard, about the size of the palm of her hand, scurried about in the only shadow which swooped in circles across the rocks. The shadow paused and the lizard scurried to a hiding place as the vulture leapt down near the ruined shell of her body. Twisted and mangled from the fall, her gaze contorted in agony relinquishing her last sorrow toward the face of the cliff, to the spot high above where his judgement sealed her fate. The vulture cautiously approached, *tink* *tink* *plink* as the vulture pecked curiously at the shiny objects scattered about her.

Two long shadows slowly crept toward the tragic figure, the vulture was too cautious and only had begun to peck at the flesh of her cheek before it was forced to flee the approaching boots kicking up so much dust.

"Is she dead, Sid?" said the taller figure with his long-gun at the ready. A bandoleer almost glistened around his chest but each bullet casing appeared sanded to dull their luster.

"Yes." stated plainly the other figure, who moved forward less cautiously, his leather boots looked like that of a judge's. His long cloak hid most of the body but in the gusts of wind it would reveal the leather pants, the leather jacket, no longer a cured black. It was dried out like jerky and tattered in places, weathered by the cursed earth. The cloaked bunched up around his neck which appeared almost equally as weathered as the leather armor he wore. An unpolished brass shield gleamed with the blue of the sky, his front shaded with his back to the sun. The helmet of a judge hid most of his face which almost looked mummified by his time outside the walls.

This ghastly figure knelt down in the shadow of his tall companion and reached around examining each shell.

"Lawgiver shells?" asked the tall man. But, he received no answer. "Hey, Sid, are those-?"

"Yes." was the blunt reply.

"She all shot-up?" there was a pause.

"No." the man peered through the visor of his helmet, inspecting her twisted form, pulling back clothes to reveal her chest, her stomach, no signs of an entry or exit wound. He rolled her over carelessly the bones cracking and grinding loosened by the fall. Nothing along her back either.

"What happened here, Sid?" the tallman loosened up, shouldering his long-gun.

Sidney, as he once was called, stood up over the corpse and looked up the cliff, and then looked around.

"Bring my satchel to me." Sidney called out. The tallman unshouldered a satchel that was fixed across his back. Sidney fell to both knees and pulled out a syringe and a few vials. Feeling over her sternum and then just to the right for the sweet spot he marked it with the needle then he plunged the syringe into a vial with no markings then sank the needle deep through the mark. He emptied the syringe and then withdrew the needle, he again studied the corpse and looked at her face. He grabbed her slack jaw and moved her head side to side examining her temples. Choosing the one less crushed he repeated the process but this time from a different vial.

"Sid, what are you up to?" the tallman looked on with the interest of a dullard.

Sidney cocked his head a little to the side as if listening to a distant raptor call, then with the third vial prepared he took the syringe and plunged the needle into the small of her back, right into the spine. It was stiff at first but there was an audible *pop* then the needle went right in.

"What's all that?"

Sidney paused, then with a wry smirk said, "I'm appealing a judgment."

"Is there anything I can do to help?" the tallman asked with that tone of voice one uses when they hope the answer is no.

There was another pause while Sidney thought to himself, why yes, yes there is one thing his companion could do to help.

"Hey Si-" the flash was hidden in the bright light of day but the thunderous crack was obvious enough as it rolled off the cliff wall above, Sidney's hand was faster than the tallman's mouth and though he never looked back to aim the shot over his shoulder was straight between the tallman's eyes. At first he focused on the satchel, rummaging through the many contents gathering tubing, and a few needles, he stretched out her neck and prepared a needle into the vein and prepared several more veins the same way. He knew it would be a long night, but he looked over at his now shorter companion and knew the transfusion would work.

Sidney stood up and towered over the deadman without even a head to express the shock on his face. Holding the remaining needles and tubing in his hand, from the woman's corpse there came a violent gasp, a perverted breath of life. Sidney could see her artery pulsing but collapsing with each pulse like a straw sucking too thick of a milkshake. She needed blood.

Sidney knelt down beside the deadman and began to prepare the transfusion. He was quite pleased with this more valuable trade.

And with all the malice of a man who had heard it enough long ago, he said:

"I told you, my name is, Death."