Flashes of red and blue reflected off of the gravel, slick with a mixture of rain and blood. Mumurs from onlookers sacrificing their warm homes for a look at the tragedy that occurred only a half hour before fill the air, but it hardly the fazed the young sheriff tasked with overseeing the investigation. Three months on the job and he could see why his predecessor was so quick to retire. The town was a shit show and the drug epidemic that swept the streets would only keep claiming victims unless he cracked down.

"What do we got?" A stern voice is directed at a man in uniform, who responded first with an exasperated huff.

"Male victim, 23, Josh Baker from what we got off the I.D. Gunshot wound to the back of the head, straight through but no casing or bullet yet. Baggie with some residue in the right pocket. Same as the others."

"Any witnesses yet?" He had a list of questions he had to ask, but he knew it would be repetitive at best. This was the 4th murder in the same fashion since his tenure and he was no closer to finding an answer as he was when the first call came through. What a way to start a career.

"A few. Some of the guys are taking their details, we'll let you know if anything comes of it." The doubt could be heard from the officers voice and for good reason. The citizens aren't the only ones growing tired of the seemingly senseless crimes that plague the city.

Some blamed the increase in crime on the cities expansion. Gentrification was doing the opposite of what it originally intended and property values were plummeting. Others blamed the incompetent police force that they had been left with after the former sheriffs retirement. Most of the men followed in his footsteps, either retiring or making the transfer to a different jurisdiction. What remained was nothing like they had before and Sheriff Cardenas struggled to form the team he needed to stop what was happening right under his nose.

Among the things he was unaware of was being watched. Dark brown hues followed the towering mans every move as discreetly as possible, gathering what was needed to report back. To anyone observing, he was just another nosy neighbor hoping to get a story to tell around the water cooler and that was exactly what he wanted. He felt lighter without the cut, a bittersweet feeling as he peered at the body of the latest prospect with his own missing. Nothing tied the man to the club he had been a martyr for and it was only beneficial to keeping the impending war under wraps for as long as they could.

'Church in 30.' The text was sent to the only numbers listed in the cheap burner as he shifted his hat, commenting on the heinousness of the crime to a few people around him before leaving the scene. His bike was the next block down and it felt like he couldn't walk fast enough. There was a target on the back of every SAMDINO member and they had no idea what would come to pass.