"Are we absolutely sure this was done by a human?"

Agent Dana Scully stood between two slabs, looking down at the…bodies…remains…detritus lying there.

Two kinds…caught in the act of making love…

Whatever had attacked them had torn their bodies apart, arms and legs torn right off.

Even the strongest man I've ever seen wouldn't be strong enough to do that. A gorilla might have the strength.

But, for all of their strength, gorillas were a remarkable peaceful species, far more likely to flee intruders than attack.

No gorillas reported as missing by the local zoos either.

Scully sighed.

Fox would have loved this. He would have found an explanation-an utterly outrageous explanation-and he would have been right…

Working with Fox Mulder, she had seen things the scientist in her could hardly credit as real. Yet, they had been real; as real as anything else in the world…

There was also that missing Neanderthal from the Hunter Incident of last year.

Might he be strong enough to tear the bodies of two kids apart?

No way to know for sure…

All she could do was describe her findings to the detectives of the 27th Precinct, set them loose, and hope they found something…

…..

Back at Central Park, a light, drizzling rain. Jack McCoy had been paired with his least favorite person, working together to do the last trash pickup for the day…

If only I hadn't had that breakdown…

McCoy sighed as he helped Willard Tappan clear away the last of the day's trash.

If I hadn't gotten sick, Tappan would be in prison right now, and John Curren…

The man had been caught up in a prison escape, his current whereabouts a mystery.

He's probably dead, his bones in a shallow grave, and all because he got caught between two swindlers…

"You're not exactly please to be working alongside me," Tappan smirked.

McCoy gritted his teeth, and maintained his silence. Tappan, seemingly unaware, continued talking.

"I was gob-smacked when you arrived here, at the Halfway House. The high and mighty Jack McCoy, Alpha Male of the court-house, reduced to doing three years of Community Service. What was it that brought you down, Jack?"

McCoy huffed as he put the last of the garbage in the bag. Then he looked back at Tappan.

"I'm not your friend," he said. "And you're not mine. In a just world, you would be in prison right now, for the rest of your life."

And, you, Jack…" Tappan chuckled. "In a just world…where would you be?"

That hurt…

In a just world…

He sighed as he turned away from Tappan.

In a just world, I would be sane, Executive Assistant DA, and prosecuting criminals, instead of working with one…

Due to rain, there were only a few people around, mostly students, twenty-somethings, and one man who was looking directly at him, and Tappan.

McCoy looked back at him, recognition jolting through his veins.

John Curren?

McCoy stared back at him.

Was it John Curren?

He didn't look quite right, unshaven, hair a tangled mess, clothes ragged-looking, and his eyes…

"Hey!" McCoy called out, running over.

Curren fled, and McCoy raced to catch up, but Curren was too fast…

Way too fast.

Here one moment, gone the next…

"Jack!" Tappan's voice brought him back. "Work's done. Let's go back."

McCoy scarcely heard.

That was John Curren. He was looking right at me.

Utter hate lay in Curren's white-eyed gaze, all of it aimed right at Jack McCoy…