Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Judge Dredd characters, places, etc.
A/N: Please be patient with me and my grammatical errors. I will have more time to correct them in the coming weeks and I'm sorry they've been more than normal. I will fix them I promise! Many thanks to all of you who review too! I forgot to put that in on the last chapter!
Chapter 9: Murugans and Monsters
By the time they finally were led through the mines and into town sunset had thrown a bloody light onto the sweltering, reeking, overpopulated slum that marked out this shanty town. Dredd had been restless all afternoon, fighting the urge to demand an update from Anderson for lack of anything better to do. Rosenberg was passable company, busy over a palm sized computer and the steady tap of a stylus. He didn't make conversation and Dredd didn't offer any.
Hargrave had circulated in frequent checks as they waited on permission. Dredd didn't have anything to say but Hargrave was happily amenable to one sided conversations about any and everything. He was easily enough distracted in tangents and his attention stolen by whoever else happened to be passing by.
So by journey's end Dredd was almost relieved to see Anderson perched side saddle on her Lawmaster, heels resting on an exhaust pipe so she could brace her elbows and her chin occupied the ledge made by her fists. It was a girlish position, one that reminded him suddenly she was barely out of her teens. Her hair looked a little wind blown, the tawny curls splayed around her face, dark eyes almost glowing amber in a wine and saffron sunbeam. She seemed thoughtful, distant.
Her eyelashes fluttered and the moment passed as her head turned to link their gazes in a familiar pattern. At once Anderson as he knew her returned. She seemed...ruffled. Dredd pulled his bike in along side hers and she didn't so much as shift, watching him snap the kickstand into place and kill the engine. He glanced then at Radkov sitting in the dirt rolling dice with a muscular, lean woman in almost no clothing. Beyond them was a behemoth of a man with a colorful lion's mane smoking a pipe.
"Friends?" he prompted the almost sprite like appearance of Anderson on her bike. With her pale skin contrasted to the healthy tans around them she was an ethereal creature on her much bigger bike, a clean spot amid the grime.
"Baby sitters. No guards, no writ, further delays. They've decided to throw in with Psi-division though, at least so far as Taharka and Sunakarib." All this was said without lifting her head, her eyes fixed on him through her lashes with the resignation of one awaiting a reprimand. Their orders weren't confidential outside the walls and connections had to be established so he wasn't particularly concerned from that end.
"They're trustworthy?"
"They're psychics. I'm only good enough to read what they let me," she shrugged, again without lifting her head.
"Doctor Hargrave!" Greeted a hunch backed man with elephant skin coming out onto the porch of the medical facilities where Hargrave would be based. Hargrave's long legs hurried him to the squat, deformed man and they embraced like brothers.
"Karrow! Its been far too long," Hargrave laughed.
"Well come in! Come in! Get your things secured and we'll see everyone to a bed!" Karrow advised, his teeth jagged and uneven in a welcoming smile. The parade of volunteer doctors hurried after the two head physicians, personal items slung over their backs and crates carried between them. Dredd and Anderson watched them silently together.
"They read minds?" Dredd turned back to her when some of the hubbub had died down.
"No sir," she shook her head. "Devon's an Empath and Wynne's...something considerably more useful in offense. Her defenses haven't come down yet but I gather from surrounding minds she's a useful ally and terrible foe." Anderson straightened up enough to cross her arms over her knees and looked back at the other psychics. "Devon Marquerik's the man, and Wynne Elliot's the woman."
Anderson stared at him when he just nodded, the skin around her eyes tight. She was waiting for his reply, for a negative reaction. He realized she felt she'd done poorly, made some mistake, and was waiting on his disapproval.
"We play by town rules so long as they're not illegal Anderson," he said at last. "Sometimes they're inconvenient." A visible frown moved her features and he found himself wondering why she was so careful not to climb into his thoughts. She said it was due to the rawness of thought but he wondered how many psychics had that sort of restraint. "What about this place?" he swung off the bike and turned to face her, leaning back against the seat with his arms crossed.
"The town or the clinic?" she asked.
"Both."
"The town's a mess. I've never seen poverty like this before. Peach Trees was a comparative paradise," she shot him the beginnings of a smirk. "There seems to be steady trade from MC1, mostly antiques and reclamations from the Cursed Earth exchanged for food stuffs. Population of about ten thousand with seasonal depletion when it comes to harvesting nearby farms. Big game hunting – I guess the Gici Awas are prey as often as predator. The average person here, their mind is harder, grizzled, but there's a significant measure of pride and...happiness is wrong. Satisfaction? Maybe."
"Are they hostile?"
"Suspicious of Judges, disdainful, but not hostile. Though they price everything three times its worth the minute they look at us," she shrugged. "Most of the injuries in the clinic are from fist fights and there's an outbreak of cholera. Don't drink any water that hasn't been boiled."
"No purification systems huh," he remarked and was rewarded by her chuckle.
The lion man swung up and came down the steps, knocking the ember out of his pipe. His tawny mane had streaks of indigo and red. Dredd was familiar with the abject poverty of the Cursed Earth, or at least enough to know that access to dyes – while not totally uncommon between the few mutated plants that could scratch out a living and trade with MC1 – marked him as successful. Wealthy probably was the wrong term for a bounty hunter. His spurs jingled musically and his clothing was utilitarian, worn leather biker boots, jeans, his white shirt with sleeves rolled back and a black leather vest with a red bandanna at his throat. There was a clip keeping the bandana in place, a lance and the eye of a peacock feather.
"Devon Marquerik," he held out one enormous hand tipped in claws. Dredd saw the pistol slung at one hip and the hunting knife at the other, all of him combat ready. He stood up straight, still a few inches south of equal to the lion man's height.
"Dredd," he replied, taking the hand and shaking.
"She is your student?" his golden eyes were distant, disconnected somehow as they flicked to Anderson.
"No," Dredd answered. Devon glanced between them again and nodded to himself. Dredd wondered what conclusion was reached but found he didn't particularly care. Devon was an obligation at present. While he didn't like it, Dredd wasn't stupid enough to jeopardize good will out here for something trivial. He'd fought mutants before and even if they were savages one had to respect those that could scrape by in the wastes. Spitting on offered cooperation over the formalities of a baby sitter to pacify local law was foolhardy and likely to get them killed.
"My counterpart is Wynne Elliot," he motioned back at the woman with long, mocha limbs and sheets of dark hair. Rosenberg had gone to see what Radkov was doing. Prickly as he was Radkov just looked bored as he explained the terms of the dice game to his comrade and Wynne was patient, allowing the dice to tumble back and forth across her slender hands. She too had a pistol and a knife, a stetson casting a shadow over her head and shoulders.
"Anderson says you're an Empath. What's she?" Dredd looked back at Devon.
"Decay," Devon answered simply. Dredd's eyes shot back to the woman and she turned to look at him. Not at him he corrected but at Anderson, who had gotten off her bike and taken a few steps forward, her senses honed in a familiar expression of searching. Dredd watched the light wink off Wynne's spear and feather pin but the giant black eye in her skull stole his attention. It was unsettling and hideous, all the more so for her apparent beauty. Wynne smiled and tapped the side of her head, clucking at Anderson who shivered and recoiled.
"Clumsy Telepath," she said and went back to her dice. Dredd's hand was on his Lawgiver, muscles in his jaw standing out as Anderson braced against her Lawmaster, her face green.
"She'll stay true," Devon advised. "But we'll want to be inside soon. Night is bitter out here."
The Murugan turned around and as he passed Wynne he hooked a finger under the brim of her hat and pushed it forward. Wynne looked up at him before rising to her feet fluidly, slapping dust off the bit of cloth covering her back side and running her hands down her shapely thighs for presumably the same reason. She threw a coy smile back at Dredd however before following Devon inside. Radkov stood up too and followed Rosenberg to the truck.
"What happened?" Dredd finally relaxed his grip on the butt of his Lawgiver. Anderson drew a few deep breaths as the green began to fade.
"She worries me," Anderson shook her head. "It could just be the nature of her psychic ability that unsettles me but I want to know what she is and what I can do if she turns. Devon I feel is a safe bet but she..." Anderson shuddered and looked like she might puke. "I'll take watch midnight to four."
Dredd reached in a saddle bag and pulled out a water for her. Braced like she was the chip in the back of her head gleamed. He twisted the lid open with a satisfying crack and held the bottled water out. She accepted it, the barest tremors in her arm as she took a long drink, a sheen of sweat edging one side of her face in the sunset red.
"Thanks," she took another couple of deep breaths and seemed sound again. He offered the cap but she polished off the water. With another shake of her head her skin seemed normal again and she sealed the empty bottle before hooking her night bag over one shoulder. Dredd followed her example and they moved together towards the clinic.
Inside it was bustling with activity, crates of medical supplies opened and volunteer medics pulling things out of their careful packing. Dredd and Anderson were careful to avoid running into anyone, a feat considering they were totally oblivious to anything but themselves. They worked like an ant hill, organized without direction, seeming to know exactly what needed doing and their duties to see it done.
Hargrave and the gargoyle doctor Karrow were orchestrating everything in the surprisingly spacious interior. Hargrave noticed them only long enough to smile before resuming his instruction. Dredd spotted Wynne leaning in long lines against a door frame, her head tilted towards them so that only her human eye was visible. She smiled at him beneath the brim of her hat and cricked her finger in a 'come hither' fashion. Anderson cut in front of him even as he was repulsed and though he was no psychic, Dredd could read an almost animal defensiveness in her posture. Wynne's smile got wider, her eye narrowing on Anderson, and she sauntered down the hall.
Anderson and Dredd followed to a room filled with bunks. The mattresses were thin pallets and mostly claimed further back into the room. Those closest to the door suited Dredd just fine. He threw his bag on the lower bunk while Anderson moved to throw hers onto the bunk above him. Wynne leaned her head and shoulder against their bunk, all her weight on one leg so her hip was cocked suggestively.
"Wanna trade bunk mates?" she asked of Anderson, her eyes on Dredd instead. His usual scowl deepened.
"No thanks," Anderson answered without looking back. Her bag landed on the pallet. Dredd was caught between them as Wynne came closer and tapped his badge.
"Well, I suppose I could always just share with you Judge," she remarked.
"Against regulation," Dredd brushed her hand away.
"She's a mutie too you know," Wynne observed, almost off hand as she quirked the eyebrow over her good eye. That gaping black eye was fixed on him too, so intense he felt like it might burn a hole through his helmet and into his skull. Apart from the brief annoyance at the continual assumption that he and Anderson were involved he felt a flare of protective anger.
"She's a Judge," he corrected.
"Is that why she's a Judge?" Wynne cocked her head, a different sort of hunger filling her eyes. "So she's legitimate game?"
"Take a shot if you think she needed me to make her a Judge," Dredd answered, looking her dead in the eye. There was still the visor between the two of them. "Your funeral." Across the way on his bunk Devon watched the interaction.
"Sir," Rosenberg's voice came. Dredd didn't turn so the Tek came around and stood to one side. "Dinner in the mess."
"You've already eaten Wynne. Why don't you get some sleep?" Devon suggested, getting up.
"I'm not full," she said without looking away from Dredd.
"It might ruin your girlish figure. Get some rest." Devon took her shoulders and turned her away. She kept her eyes on Dredd as long as she could. When she climbed up onto the opposing top bunk she turned and sat staring at Anderson instead. The smaller psychic pointedly turned and walked away.
"She likes a challenge," was all Devon said as they made their way to dinner.
It was a communal affair not unlike days at the Academy. A heavy flat bread was served with a basic spaghetti. They drank hot water faintly discolored by iodine as an extra precaution. Anderson sat to one side with Rosenberg on the other. There was little conversation from the three of them but Radkov had been attached to a group of female medics further down the table as they vied for his favor in rather overt displays of coquetry.
After the meal they tracked back to the dorms where Wynne's back faced them, her breathing steady. Anderson stripped her outer armor and hung it on a peg before grabbing her overnight bag and making for one of the changing screens. Dredd noticed she didn't bother removing her Lawgiver. As for himself he settled in a chair between his bunk and the next.
"Watches?" Rosenberg asked from the top of the neighboring bunk.
"4 am. Tomorrow Radkov will take it," Dredd replied. Rosenberg just nodded and disappeared, settling down beneath the scratchy blanket available. Radkov was sitting on the bottom bunk, pulling off his boots and stripping out of his coveralls. He just gave Dredd a two fingered salute, peeling out of his undershirt and rolling over in boxers.
Anderson returned in a moment, barefoot in shorts and a tank top, gun still belted across her hips. She slid her bag underneath Dredd's bunk and with a quick contraction of muscles was perched in her bed. She shot a last acidic look at Wynne before settling down facing the bunk with their two mutant watchmen. It didn't escape Dredd's notice that Devon had done a quick double take at Anderson's smooth, pale skin and trim, athletic physique. His inhuman eyes made it hard to tell exactly whether it was surprise or something considerably less honorable that drew his focus back. Dredd settled himself with a noisy scrape of the chair, drawing Devon's eyes. Devon stared at him for a moment before simply rolling over and seeming to settle for sleep.
"Wake me up for my turn," Anderson said above him, a glimpse of dark eyes and tawny curls. He nodded once. She drifted off quickly, probably tired after such extensive use of her skills. Most of the medics came in about an hour after Dredd's party were asleep, hushed chatter passing between them filled in equal measures of seriousness and anticipation. They settled in without seeming to notice him seated in quiet guardianship.
"No rest?" Hargrave inquired in another hour when he came in for a spell of rest himself. Dredd shook his head. "Our girl looked tired today. Madcaps are a handful. I don't blame her being so worn. But she landed two of the best. Devon's honorable. He's helped me many times, often for a discount. And Wynne's a good girl for her wayward nature. Hard life little thing."
Dredd kept his thoughts to himself. Hargrave studied the sleeping forms across from them. He stretched stiffly, his lean frame becoming even thinner.
"Good night Judge Dredd. Get you some good rest. Salem will be eventful." Hargrave drifted away with light steps. The last lights went out and Dredd was left in blackness but for the silvery rays filtering in from a window in the next room. He waited until the display in his glove read midnight before removing his boots and outer armor, setting his helmet down on the bed between himself and the wall. His Lawgiver he settled a little further down, within easy reaching distance.
He couldn't quite make out which folds of blanket were what on Anderson. Reaching out slowly he found what he thought might be a shoulder. It was actually an awkwardly folded wrist. Closing his callused fingers over it he squeezed, drawing the cool flesh further towards the edge of the bed. She shifted and one eye opened. The faint light behind him reflected in a single point on her iris, like the first evening star. Satisfied she was awake he settled in his own bunk.
She landed almost soundless a half minute later and took up the chair he'd vacated. In the dark she almost seemed to glow very faintly, her pale skin edged by the barest silver light from the next room. Perching one small foot on Radkov's bed she settled back, the Lawgiver a dark shape across her lap as she settled in to keep watch. With the last thought that Anderson would probably make an excellent watchmen whether or not there was light he relaxed enough to give in to sleep.
When Dredd was awake, dressed, and headed out onto the porch for a survey of the area before dawn he was almost startled to see Anderson sitting on the steps french braiding her damp hair. Rosenberg had been sitting up for his watch and it was still dark enough that Dredd couldn't make out anything but a rumpled blanket that in his peripheral awareness hadn't meant anything was amiss. The other bunks had the Madcaps still asleep and that had been his main focus.
But there was Anderson, her lips almost blue as she breathed out plumes of steam and worked her small fingers back through the hair, carefully weaving it into a fixed position despite its shortness. Bobby pins were set between her teeth to secure the last strays. With the beginnings of dawn coloring the horizon he could only barely know her by sight. It was the smell of her shampoo that clued him in. That smell was forever associated with her. After her assessment he'd run into her in medical at the Hall of Justice. She'd taken the time to shower and her hair was still damp, the scent of her shampoo standing out to him over that of sickness and antiseptic.
"You're up early," Anderson twisted her whole torso so she wouldn't disrupt the workings of her braid. Dredd came and stood next to her, crossing his arms as he looked over the gleaming tin roofs and watched the horizon slowly lighten.
"Couldn't sleep?" he prompted.
"No," was her only answer as she snapped a tie around her braid. "The sooner we make it to Salem and Amanirenas the better."
"Anxious?"
"Pissed off," she stood up, her bare arms prickled in the cold. She jammed the bobby pins in place, untied the arms of her uniform from around her waist and pulled them up, zipping the front closed. "The faster I get a handle on this the less time I spend under someone else's thumb." She pointed at her temple to indicate her psychic ability. Dredd almost smirked.
"Not used to the disadvantage?" he almost teased. Her eyes shot back to him with a fire that brought him perilously close to a smile. She slung her armored vest on and with a crisp movement checked the ammunition in her lawgiver.
"Its possible," she conceded with such visible effort in the admission that he took a very careful breath before saying anything else.
"Wake the boys," he suggested. Anderson stormed inside.
In about a half hour the Teks were both dressed and ready to go, the hummer unloaded of medical supplies and repacked with the extra provisions and belongings of Wynne and Devon. The pair of them both had sturdy bikes and were at present checking them before the journey. When she was done Wynne lounged on her bike with the languid satisfaction of a cat in the early morning sun. It had been about forty degrees before sunrise and at only a few minutes after the sun had fully risen it was sixty.
"Just something before you go my girl," Hargrave badgered Anderson, pressing a cool mug into her hand. "Drink up and then you're free to pursue your teacher. And do remember to visit the village 'crank'. Radkov will know where to find him but it is imperative you make the proper offerings."
In short order they were pressing through the slowly filling streets and out into the wastes again, the Green River to the north and keeping them company with the hushed murmur of rushing water. Anderson kept to the rear of the convoy despite her restless energy. Devon kept near her while Wynne made a point of keeping at Dredd's flank at the front. Radkov intermittently directed their course over the glove comm.
The Green River fed a toxic marsh which appeared to them about noon. It ranged from sickly green puddles to emerald ponds several hundred feet across. Bristly shrub had composed most of the surrounding flora but in the marsh absolutely nothing grew. The ghastly structures of old buildings sometimes reached a last metal beam up in a pitiful reminder of things that were but otherwise there was nothing but dead earth and corrosive pools.
There were no bridges sturdy enough for heavy machinery to cross so they swung south the long way. A few places had rickety looking bridges like skeletal spines stretching delicately from one safe spot to the next. At about two they were finally able to push west and by four they were angling north again until sunset arrived and they met again with the Green River itself.
"We've got sensors on board," Rosenberg said after a halt had been called. "We could keep going but you four only have the bikes. Its safer to travel in daylight and I'm not sure what might be attracted to our headlights. Your call," he looked between Anderson and Dredd. Dredd looked at Anderson and the psychic – without her helmet on again – raised her eyebrows. He shrugged and she turned to look at the wide band of water.
"How much farther?" she asked softly, her back to them.
"Another four hours," Radkov answered.
"The moon's almost full," Rosenberg offered.
"Make camp," she shook her head. "What kind of predation is in the area?"
"Gitaskog," Radkov almost grumbled. Wynne snickered. Anderson shot her a look over her shoulder that would have done any professor in the Academy proud. "Amanirenas' pet, a horned snake."
"Myth," Devon shook his head. "You're looking more at Pukwudgies and Cudo Wolves. The wolves have a poisonous bite – disease in the grooves of their fangs – and Pukwudgies are something akin to weasels and they get into everything. They do more damage to things than people."
"How do they feel about Gici Awas?" Rosenberg asked.
"Gici Awas are apex predators."
"I think I managed to isolate the pheromones from the samples I took. I should be able to mark our camp out like a territory."
"Risks?" Dredd prompted.
"Maybe we'll attract a mate," Rosenberg shrugged, extracting a vial from his belt and holding it up. "I read the dossier. I don't think they're nocturnal."
"So we'll make sure we're on the move again at dawn," Anderson nodded. Rosenberg nodded and trotted away to mark out a perimeter.
Dinner was little more than a nutrient bar each and a cup of water. Wynne wrinkled her nose and took her bike, heading out into the dark until the sound of her engine was nothing but a distant rumble.
"We can get four bodies in the hummer," Rosenberg informed Anderson and Dredd as the last curve of sun dipped beyond the horizon.
"We'll run in doubles for watch," Dredd replied simply. "Marquerik and I on first, Anderson and Elliot second, Radkov and Rosenberg third." Signs of confirmation went around the group as the two Teks shuffled inside and Anderson followed, leaving Dredd and Marquerik in the rapidly encroaching darkness.
"Easier to take the high ground," Marquerik advised, hauling himself up onto the roof where he pulled out his pipe and began packing a bowl. Tobacco was illegal except for particular bars in Mega City One but then the laws were different out here. Smoking was a minor infraction and even if it was foolish after so much research proving its detriment to longevity Dredd supposed Marquerik's chances of living long enough to develop cancer were slim to none. Life expectancy ended at about sixty, when most people could no longer escape predators or the high odds of an accident or natural disaster caught up.
Dredd pulled himself up and they settled around the heavy gun turret protruding from the roof, facing opposite directions. In the distance Dredd could still make out the faint glow along the horizon of Mega City One, an orange smear of light like embers. Above that though came the stars, more than he'd ever seen before. He swept the area for any signs of disturbance and then looked back up in search of constellations. There were so many he couldn't discern which groups might make pictures as one of his science professors insisted there were. Rather than try he followed the band of the Milky Way and wondered how many people back in the city even bothered to look up.
Inside the hummer he could make out the soft sound of conversation, Radkov and Rosenberg's voices, a few lines from Anderson here and there. As the moon appeared like a cue ball, just shy of full, the noises inside simmered down. Marquerik's pipe smoke wafted by, not wholly unpleasant, spicy.
"Where's Elliot?" Dredd asked after a long time, the darkness bringing an icy chill with it.
"Hunting perhaps. She comes and goes."
"Alone?"
"She'll be back by dawn."
Marquerik didn't seem worried in the least and Dredd had no attachment to the disconcerting mutant so he let it go. If Wynne didn't come back Anderson might be more at ease. She wasn't high strung but something about Wynne triggered a visceral reaction in Anderson, one Dredd felt better about heeding.
"How'd a psychic wind up a Judge?" Marquerik asked after another span of quiet.
"She passed her assessment," Dredd answered flatly. Marquerik puffed quietly behind him.
"What is that thing on the back of her head?"
"A sensor."
"I mean her no harm Judge, and my intentions are pure."
"If you're interested I suggest you ask Anderson."
"What Wynne said offended you," Marquerik continued. "You were offended on behalf of Anderson. Why?"
Dredd felt no need to answer the question. It didn't require much introspection. Quite the contrary. Anderson had earned not only his respect but his trust. She had both until she did something that betrayed them. Such an event was filed away under remote possibilities, in the farthest corner of his mind. It was only even there because he felt nothing was absolutely impossible.
Marquerik didn't push it further and so the question was left unanswered in the night. It was coming up on midnight when one of the doors popped open and Anderson's pale hair shone in the moonlight.
"Are you sure nothing shows up?" she asked over her shoulder.
"Nothing sir," Rosenberg answered, his voice thick with sleep. Anderson cut around the hummer and moved a few more steps towards the banks of the Green, still a good fifty meters off.
"What is it?" Dredd called down. Anderson didn't look back and stood perfectly still. Dredd waited for her assessment.
"Its an animal mind," she answered. "Intelligent but not human. Its coming closer. From...that direction," she pointed upriver. "I can't tell...I don't know what it is. It hasn't noticed us but its hungry and...its not afraid. There's no fear."
"Meaning?" Dredd prompted, sliding off the roof to land solidly on the ground. He came to Anderson's side, her eyebrows drawn together in fierce concentration.
"Predator, definitely," she clarified after a few second lag.
"Nothing's coming up on the sensors," Rosenberg repeated, a little more alert.
"Can you tell if its in the river?" Radkov's head popped out.
"Impossible," Marquerik shook his head. "I've seen that river pull down metal in a matter of minutes."
"See if you can tell its swimming," Radkov insisted. Anderson took a few more steps towards the bank. Dredd's Lawgiver was at hand as he followed. She stopped and crouched down, knuckles resting on the cracked earth.
"I – it – needs to breathe. Its holding it's breath," she answered and slowly opened her eyes. "It smells the pheromones. We smell like prey."
"Radkov," Dredd turned around.
"On it!" Radkov yelled as the engine snarled to life.
"Something just surfaced on the radar," Rosenberg called out window. Devon rolled off the roof and flung himself onto his bike.
"We need to get inland," Anderson straightened, shaking herself back into focus like a dreamer just waking. She and Dredd both settled on the bikes and turned the engines over. Devon cut into the lead, the hummer falling behind with Anderson and Dredd to one side moving away from the banks as quickly as they dared.
"18 meters of something is gaining," Rosenberg announced as the ground began to tremble.
"You're a better shot Dredd. Want me to play bait?" Anderson asked over the comm. 'No' was the immediate answer but he didn't know what else to do either.
"Careful in the dark," he advised instead.
"Rosenberg, let me have that vial," she ordered, her Lawmaster veering towards the hummer. Rosenberg was suddenly hanging out the window and they managed a high speed pass off. Marquerik came in close and shouted at her over the roar of the wind. She seemed to shake some of the vial onto her helmet and pass him whatever was left. He did likewise and the pair of them both braked and fell back. Dredd swung his bike around, reaching for the rifle secured to his Lawmaster as a last minute insistence by Radkov before they'd left the city.
"Can you see it yet?" Rosenberg asked as Dredd flipped the rifle's targeting system to infrared.
"Devon owes you a drink Radkov," Anderson replied, her voice grim with ironic humor. "Its a horned snake."
"Keep him alive then mutie so he can pay up," Radkov rumbled as the infrared scanner picked up on the undulating coils of something warm moving rapidly towards them. He could see Anderson and Devon both veer off as the serpent reared back, the faint lines of heat sketching out what looked like horns.
Dredd squeezed the trigger and felt the recoil through his shoulder as the shot cracked like thunder. The red serpent's head jerked back, the raised portion tipping, before it seemed to shake off the shot and snap at one of the bikes. Dredd almost growled a curse as he ejected the spent shell and braced the rifle on one shoulder. He gunned the engine and roared after Anderson and Devon.
In the moonlight he could see glistening scales shimmering like steel and giant eyes reflected their headlights. Easily two meters in circumference the monolithic creature snapped after the two bikers with unbelievable speed, hissing and snarling. Dredd took two more shots, both missing the eye and only seeming to irritate the beast. Its attention shifted to him and made a lunge.
The hummer blasted at the creature's side, knocking its trajectory off a fraction of a second before it was too late. But rather than the high caliber bullets tearing it apart the monster seemed to simply roll to one side, shake off its stupor, and come at them again.
"Give me something Radkov!" Anderson shouted, the python bristling with horns all over its head like a burr streaking after her.
"We leave it goats," Radkov answered. "Nobody ever said anything about killing it."
"You make explosives!"
"I'm on it, I'm on it," he groused. "Locking on now. I'd go faster if I was you." With a loud crack something left a bright, streaming trail from the hummer. The monster snapped around just in time to take an explosion to the face. Smoking the creature collapsed, big enough to make the ground shudder. "You alive mutie?" Radkov drawled.
"Thanks to you, EOD," Anderson replied in a voice dripping with sarcasm as her headlight flashed in an about face. They quipped back and forth as Anderson headed back. Dredd was just beginning to think it would be alright when he saw some of the coils begin to shift.
"Move Anderson!" he bellowed, sighting down the rifle. He expelled a breath as time seemed to slow, the coils flexing in a ripple of muscle, before the monster heaved itself up and towards Anderson. He got two shots in rapid succession, both between the eyes and bringing its balance off so its head smashed into the ground where Anderson's back tire had been a split second before. The Lawmaster bucked forward, pitching Anderson in a high arc. Her arms pinwheeled and the serpent's horns glimmered malignantly as it reared up again, fangs dripping. Dredd hit some of the scales on the underbelly while Anderson twisted her body in the air.
The moment she hit the ground time assumed its normal pace, Anderson rolling forward in a tight ball as the Lawmaster twisted in another direction, metal and glass crunching. The hummer let loose another barrage of bullets as Anderson stumbled up from her spectacular speed roll. She turned around drunkenly, lost her balance, and collapsed onto her backside.
"Anderson move it!" Dredd yelled, his tires scrambling for purchase. She shook her head as if trying to rid herself of the disorientation, the monster thrashing dangerously near her as the hummer spattered fire at it. Hoisting herself up into a crouch with her feet braced Anderson looked up at the beast.
Very suddenly it went still, head cocked to one side staring at her. Another volley of fire hit it from the hummer and it shied away, hissing at the hummer as it swept its tail dangerously close to overturning the vehicle. It moved to spring but stopped again as if jerked by a cord and went back to staring at Anderson.
"Cease fire!" Anderson commanded. Dredd swung around a curve of scales and screamed to a halt between Anderson and the staring monster. He sighted straight down the barrel again into one eye but the monster shifted and he just missed. It hissed and Anderson caught his elbow, pulling herself up and tearing the helmet off of her head. Blood and sweat matted her hair down, half her face covered in dark smears.
"I can't get it to leave but I think I can insist it wants this spot, that if we leave it gained what it wanted," she told him, eyes never leaving the serpent.
"I'll kill it while you hold it still," he took aim at an enormous eye.
"Don't," she said, her voice sharp. "I...don't know what that would do to me connected like this." Dredd hesitated a fraction of a second.
"Get on."
"Move slow," she instructed, wincing as she hooked a leg over the seat behind him. One of her arms curled around his middle as she twisted in evident pain to continue facing the almost mesmerized beast. "Keep up with that calm thing," she added and Dredd realized that Marquerik's bike was humming nearby, one clawed hand on some of the scales. His eyes reflected moonlight in the same animal way as the beast's.
The pair of bikes slowly eased away from the monster, both psychics working their magic. The coils drew in around the beast and it stared at them over the topmost scales, all glittering eyes and horns. For a second as they put some distance between them it made as if to follow them but Anderson's hand tightened around the end of Dredd's Kevlar jacket and the beast was still again.
"Out of my range now," Marquerik announced nearby.
"Its fine," Anderson grated out. "I can...I've got it a little further..."
It was looking clear when Anderson's whole body seemed to go limp and her head thudded between Dredd's shoulder's with alarming force. He barely managed to snatch her arm as the sound of scales on rock made him look back. The monster was coming at them with renewed vigor. Dredd put on speed as did Marquerik.
All at once the creature flinched and jerked around, hissing. It snapped at something and a dark spot seemed to dart along its body. Shadows spread after the spot and in another few seconds the monster beat a retreat, hustling towards the Green like a flickering ribbon in the wind.
"What was that?" Dredd asked, braced with one foot on the ground, one hand securing Anderson's arms around his torso, and the other clutching the rifle.
"Wynne," Marquerik replied, his eyes glinting as they fixed on Anderson. "We need to get her to Salem. She's in bad shape."
The hummer pulled up beside them and Dredd carefully lifted Anderson up and carried her small frame into the vehicle. Rosenberg had blankets laid out on some of the sideways seats, crates pressed up against them to create something of a wall to prevent her falling. A med-kit was open there too. Dredd set her down thinking she must weigh nothing without her street gear.
"I'll do what I can on the way," Rosenberg vowed without looking up. He pulled her Kevlar jacket open and then the suit beneath, hitching up the undershirt to expose abrasions and bruising. Blood was caked under her nose and stained the skin at her ears.
When Dredd emerged Wynne was lounging on the handlebars of her bike, over-sized black eye reflecting the moon almost perfectly as she murmured to Devon. She sat up when she realized he was there and set her hat back a little on her head.
"Evening Judge. Was I missed?" she purred. Dredd offered no comment. "Taharka is camped in town right now. Sunakarib's fallen back into the hills to the north. I've secured us lodging. Will the darling make it a night or should I rouse the doctor?"
"Find the doctor," he replied. Wynne smiled, her teeth seeming sharp in the strange light.
"Our lodging is at the southeast edge of town. Its the local undertaker. You'll know him by the gravestones." She tipped her hat and took off ahead of everyone without so much as turning on her headlights.
