Chapter Twelve

We're out on our bikes again, on the mega highways again. In the rain again, albeit lighter. It was dark now, the dirty orange light from streetlamps lighting our way in evenly spaced pools. I was following closely behind him as we head to another incident. 'Multiple bodies found at Deforest Kelley block. Suspected homicide.' His voice had been tinged with something else as he said it, something other than the usual grumpiness, but I couldn't tell what, maybe I didn't want to. When we parted ways with Anderson and got on our bikes he seemed, anxious. Probably didn't like the idea of going back on patrol with an injured rookie that he hadn't decided on yet. Or maybe I'd already failed as far as he's concerned? I shake my head a little, mentally shrugging it off, it's not like stressing myself out by thinking about it was going to change his mind now anyway. The mega block comes into view before us as we come out from under a long bridge. He revs his bike, pushing the engine into further action, pulling off just a little faster as we head in a straight line, directly to the looming structure. I follow suit, speeding my bike up so I'm side by side with him as we draw closer. Before I can think about not dwelling on it all we've pulled up to the roadside in front of one of the mega block's entrances and dismounting. Even though its dark and raining there's still plenty of people around, still load of citizens crowding up the entrance, jostling to escape or get home. I walk beside him as we part the waves of unknown faces, ignoring the mix of expressions that are aimed our way, from hope to confusion to disgust, it's all aimed at us, simply because we're in judge uniforms. Easier to hate a faceless thing than consider themselves lacking, I suppose. Going down the few steps into the main foyer area it hasn't even been cordoned off properly yet, the onsite medic trying her best but constantly being bombarded by nosy voyeuristic citizens wanting the gory details. Our appearance dampens most of the crowds' enthusiasm, and a rough grab and throw round the scruff from Dredd quiets the few brave ones among them.

"So what we got?" I glance down at the fresh corpses as I ask, listening intently as I examine what I can see from under the medical sheets.

"Happened within the last ten minutes. That poor sap over there reported it soon as he tripped over them." She points away to a boy sat wide eyed and trembling on a bench with a blanket round his shoulders, just a teenager, no younger than fourteen. His mother presumably sat next to him with a comforting arm round his shaking shoulders.

"Tripped over them? How'd he miss this mess?"

"Half blind. Can only see in big blurs." I nod, a twinge of guilt rolling through me. Poor lil fucker. Dredd turns away from his place a little way behind me to my left and strides towards the witness, shoving people aside when they don't move, never faltering in his step.

"Well I guess that's a good thing... considering." I indicate the mess pooling to either side of me. It was vile. Pulling the sheets back I look at the corpses, there were chunks of flesh splattered around the main lumps that used to be two gangers. I didn't know the gang tattoos off by heart but it was unmistakable that they were gang tattoos. A lot of them too. Blood was pooling out from the chewed up stumps where arms and legs should be on the mangled naked torsos. Not pooling, pumping. Jeez, the hearts are still going, really was fresh. The medic must have seen that I was watching the gruesome little fountains. "They took a long time to die." Glancing up at her I see her shaking her head with a look of mild disgust. Plink plink plink.

"Kid doesn't know anything." I glance back at the kid as he leans into his mother's embrace and then at the ever stoic Dredd, nodding an acknowledgement before turning back to the horror scene in front of us. Again I find myself looking at the torsos, noticing the occasional tiny muscles twitching under paling skin. My eyes search further a field and find nothing. No blood trails, no bullet casings, nothing. I sigh, kneeling down to get a closer look at one of the bodies, forehead wrinkling in consternation as I hunt for an explanation, and coming up short.

"How'd the bodies end up here? Couldn't have been killed here, too many people, too many witnesses. Couldn't have been dropped, there's no impact damage to the bodies. Couldn't have been dragged, there's no blood trails." I look up at him, and he looks as lost for a rationalization as I do.

"Blitzer." We both look at her when she says that. I stand back up, nodding in agreement to her theory, turning to see Dredd do the same.

"Fits. Would explain the, nature, of the killing as well as the speed of it."

"What gangs are in the block?"

"The Judged, and the Red Dragons." She nods towards the bodies. "From the tattoos I'd say these guys were dragons." From the corner of my eye I can see Dredd standing stock still, just watching as I converse with the medic, letting me take the lead, trusting me to.

"Guess your lil tour of Peach Trees caused some uproar amongst the ranks." I gaze at him, seeing no change in the usual deadpan look on his face. A smirk plays at the corner of my lips for a moment before I turn back to the medic. Does he usually make this much of a mess when he does assessments? "Where do the gangs operate in this block? And here's another question for ya. Where're the heads?"