With his flashlight in one hand, and the .38 in the other, Roy carefully approached the quietly rumbling vehicle ahead. Its headlights were partially buried in the mountainside, one tire bent askew from the impact and the engine was beginning to stutter, signaling that the large truck was slowly running out of gas. Judging by the tracks in the ground below, it had swerved to the right abruptly, as if to avoid a collision.
Keeping a close eye on the driver's side door, he cocked the revolver and walked up to the cab, utilizing the extra light from the headlights of the running LTD to check the ground below for footprints but found none.
Even before he reached up to open the door, he made out several bullet holes in the windshield, effectively blinding any potential driver with the various spider webs covering the shattered glass. The front bumper was slightly bent, as if it had been used as a ramming block.
Stepping onto the running board, DeWitt pulled the door open and raised his revolver simultaneously, ready to tackle whoever was responsible for this mess. Much to his surprise, all he could see was a crumbled over figure of a man, his head lying lifelessly against the passenger bench, arms trapped beneath his body.
Carefully approaching to ensure this wasn't a setup, Roy climbed into the cab, immediately smelling the blood that had filled the air inside, before reaching for the persons shoulder. The bearded man in his mid-forties felt cool to the touch, a trace of blood on the corner of his mouth suggesting severe internal injuries. Even though he knew the answer, Roy reached down to check for a pulse but found none.
Exhaling slowly, he crawled back out of the cab, his heart relieved to see signs that his men had put up a fight at one point. When he reached solid ground again, he trained the halo of the flashlight to the ravine below, but couldn't see any tire tracks of a vehicle leaving the road.
Assuring that the gap between the truck and side of the road was big enough for both vehicles to clear, Roy put the flashlight away again, before getting back into the LTD. His two passengers stayed tensely quiet, anxiously awaiting information on the current situation.
"We've got a stiff in that truck. Got shot through the windshield. I'd say we're on the right track."
Next to him, Ed shifted in his seat, clearly relieved by the news, as he ran a hand through his beard.
"I told you, they're probably sitting another couple miles farther back, playing chess and wondering what the hell took us so long…"
Roy chuckled, wishing the lightheartedness would rub off on him but it didn't. Thirteen years of working side by side with the legendary Mike Stone taught him to read their radio silence as a sign of trouble.
Big trouble.
Mike would be the first one to try and re-establish contact in a situation like this, which could only mean one thing.
Reaching for the radio receiver, Roy cleared his throat, before speaking up.
"Attention all units, this is Lieutenant DeWitt. Suspect vehicle one has been found disabled, driver diseased. Signs of a gun fight. At this point I am certain that we found the path Mike and Steve took. Please be on the lookout for suspect vehicle two.", drawing in a deep breath, Roy pursed his lips, then bit the side of his cheek when the anxiety threatened to overtake him, "Comm-Unit, alert paramedics to go into standby mode. We will report findings upon rendezvous with 8-1. DeWitt out."
