Shielded

by Rhinne

She scowled. Of course she did, three years of being a Judge will do that to you. And today just couldn't start better... highway was jammed, coffee was atrocious and someone apparently made a hobby of ritually murdering Judges. (will be Dredd/Anderson in later chapters)

14. Blood sacrifice

Hi there, long time no see,

which is a thing I really have to apologize for. There are some legitimate excuses why I didn't update sooner, one of them being that by this point I have like six (or more like thirty-six) scrapped drafts of this chapter, but it can still mostly be contributed to me being a lazy piece of shit. Well anyway, I hope you will enjoy yourselves with this latest addition and feel free to bitch at me for being a horrible person who doesn't update regularly :D

Thank you and have fun

P.S Special thanks to my friend, who shall be known on the Internet as Nayruko, who took it upon herself to finally make me write this thing down. So, in case you want to thank anybody, it's her.

P.P.S. I has been exactly a year and a week since I uploaded the first chapter of this fanfic. I never thought I would find so many people who enjoy my writing, so, once again, thank you.

Blood sacrifice

Anderson rubbed her eyes and brushed away the damp strands of hair from her face, yawning for about the hundredth time. Her cup of coffee was empty when she finished patching her uniform into somewhat passable state and threw the half-fixed gear into the washer, setting it to 'heavily stained'. After she poured herself another cup of the liquid life-force, she settled on the floor and spread out the documents she stole from Bob's office all around her. Some of the pages were smeared with her blood, but most of it was readable and she started systematically categorizing the information provided.

With a discontent growl she began typing her report, using the contracts as staring points, before consulting the newer electronic records provided by the Hall. A nagging voice in her head kept insisting she just let the paperwork be and sleep instead, but she was pretty sure that if she left it to be done later, she wouldn't do it at all.

Angel's Mercy: med-centre, bought 2/6/2067 by Cyril Brown from MEMA (MegEast Medical Association) for 38 mio. credits; used by Robert (confirmed culprit in the murders of Corey, Peters, Kovacs, Hamell + various other crimes) as a concealed laboratory (art. enh., gen. mut., bionics (no phys. evd.- see atch. med. record)) for ca. 25 yy (med. rec. dt. 17/4/2075);

current status:

Absent-mindedly, she sucked on her bottom lip as she looked for a suitable synonym to the term complete-and-utter-ruin and ultimately settled for disabled. She filled in the word and yawned again, sipping her heavily sweetened coffee as she researched the next contract. She turned on the TV just to provide some background noise, casually flipping through the channels. For a moment she lingered on sports channel, a small smile displayed on her face, but ultimately decided against it and settled on some below-average slasher flick where an alien cyborg warrior butchered his way through masses of intergalactic werewolves, while a Blondie, whose only visible quality was a prominent bust, provided the slaughter with a soundtrack of high-pitched shrieking and moaning. Cracking her digits, Anderson returned to her report.

ATEN: nuclear power plant, compound in sector 233, provider of electricity for sectors 210-240, bought 13/11/2056 by Cyril Brown from Howl & Harrows for 170'000. cr., last year's revenue= +6.2 bn. cr. (last tax audit 5/3/2077 - no tax evasion found)

current status: active, no suspicious activity, 41'754 registered employees, last year 2 recorded work injuries, 0 deaths

CWC Group: mining company, sector 222-224, bought 14/4/2063 by Cyril Brown from Howl & Harrows for 97'000, last year's revenue= +11.5 bn. (audit 24/12/2086 - neg; au 9/9/2072 tax evasions for ca. 9.3 bn. = penalty 10 bn. cr. + C.R. Bennet arrested, no charges against Brown)

cs: act.; nsa (NOTE: CWC - clearance to mine in Cursed Earth - atch. list of pers. with regular visits (10/year)into CE), 713'973 r. emp., last year 583'894 rec. ii, 71'367 dt

"Slaughterhouse." she muttered, regarding the stash of documents she had yet to work through and groaned, rubbing her eyes and letting out another jaw-cracking yawn. The number of deaths came, albeit barely, below the ten percent mark and was therefore classified as non-suspicious by the authorities, but Anderson was well aware that such numbers could always be tweaked. With disdain she shook her head and glared at her almost empty cup, but didn't feel like getting herself another one, even the caffeine coming to its limits in the combat against her sleepiness.

Efflutox Industries: sewage and toxic waste disposal S210-240, founded 28/2/2052 by Brown, lyr= +1.1 mio. (au=neg)

cs: active, nsa, 412 r. emp., ly 34 ii, 1 dt

Fantasia: entertainment complex, S214, bought 27/7/2065 by Brown from Mathilde Dawson (deceased 9/2065 - arsenic poisoning) for 4 mio., lyr= 0.0

cs: abandoned 10/2065

"There better be a connection between these." she mumbled and continued to categorize the remaining contracts. What she got pretty much followed the pattern. A metalworking factory in two-sixteen, pharmaceutics in two-ten, law firm in two-twenty-nine, slew of robotics factories throughout sector two-thirty-one and so on, and in between few inauspicious abandoned complexes. With just a pinch of imagination, or a normal dosage of logical thinking, could one see a solid network between the companies. Everything from the power supply to waste disposal was in the hands of one and the same person with virtually none input or regulation from any third parties. And since most of the links weren't involved in any ongoing investigations and obediently paid their taxes, they weren't subjected to any real scrutiny from the authorities.

The same could be said about the man owning them. Brown paid his taxes, had no criminal record and was engaged with several charity organizations. By all accounts, his story was an inspirational one. He was a true self-made man, first coming into business when he founded the sewage and hazardous waste disposal company, quoting -Money doesn't stink.- when asked about this. His big success came when he ingeniously used an opportunity and very cheaply bought a slew of companies from the bankrupt Howl & Harrows and within a five years transformed them into industrial forerunners, according to his own words -by investing into the visions of savants-. After forty years of being hailed an industrial genius, he retired, leaving the companies in the hands of his CEO's , not making public appearances since.

The information on his current whereabouts were scarce and inconclusive, the press presenting several far-fetched assumptions and the official documents listing his address as the penthouse in Luminosa Block, which was impossible since the block was torn down several years ago.

Blankly, Anderson stared at the screen, her brain refusing to work properly and come up with further plan of her investigation. She threw a quick glance at the clock, which read five-fifteen, and saw that even in the best possible situation she would be only getting about half an hour of sleep. "Oh, screw this." she groaned and curled up on the floor, asleep even before her body really hit the floor.

After what felt like a mere second the shrill sound of her alarm clock roused her from her sleep. Anderson let out a faint defeated howl and scrambled to her feet, shuffling in a zombie-like state to the bathroom. Barely awake, she pulled on her uniform, collected her datatablet and paper files, and with a final huff left her apartment.

Somehow she ended up arriving to the Hall before Dredd. Without much enthusiasm she steered to the nearest coffee automat and bought herself a cup. She leaned against a wall, burning her tongue as she sipped the awful, scalding brew. Her body protested against every single movement, reminding her of her critically low energy reserves and she knew she wasn't ready for another day in the field. Inside her head a soft fuzzy haze coated her mind, lulling her into sleep.

Sound of approaching footsteps roused her from the halfway snooze and when she looked up, she saw Dredd standing a few steps away. "Anderson." he nodded stiffly, keeping his tone level and impersonal. The one word alone was was enough to make very clear that he decided to revert whatever it was their relationship has evolved into, back to the status quo.

She expected as much, it was the only sane outcome of their situation, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt. Over the weeks working together she did come to regard Dredd as something of a friend, if nothing else, and having that nullified was almost unbearably painful. But she knew better than to show any of it and when she answered she made sure to match the distance in his voice. "Sir."

She wasn't really sure, but he seemed to all but flinch at the word. In a way it brought her satisfaction.

An unbearably awkward moment of silence followed. At last, Anderson cleared her throat. "Well, here. Last night's work." she handed him the dataslate with her research.

He accepted the tablet with a grunt and quickly skimmed through her writing. Without another word he navigated through the Hall's atrium to the back of the building where a cafeteria was stationed. It was almost empty, seeing as most of the staff for the morning shift already got their fix of caffeine. An elderly member of the cleaning staff sat near the entrance, drowning his marital issues in coffee spiked with scotch, while a Judge, whose name Anderson couldn't quite remember, slept with his head on the table, his body contorted into the most uncomfortable position imaginable.

After gladly exchanging the vile broth form the coffee automat for a more ingestible variant, Anderson joined Dredd at the table, sitting down opposite of him.

He was still reading her report, occasionally consulting it with the stash of paper files, while Anderson rested her head in her palms, letting her gaze wander aimlessly around the room, her brain zoning out even though her eyes were still open. Suddenly, an object waved in front of her eyes. With a startled yelp she jumped and shook her head, shifting her focus to the man opposite of her. From his scowl and the aura of annoyance she guessed that he had been trying to get her attention for some time.

"Have you tried tracking his bank transactions?" he asked.

She blinked, forcing her brain to process the question. "What?"

"His spendings. Did you check his account?"

"Whose?"

"Brown's."

"Why?"

He raised his head from the files and tilted his head, as if he was unsure whether she was joking. "To get his billing address."

"For what?"

"It's... an address."

"Oh, right, that's logical, no, I didn't think of that." she shook her head, suppressing a yawn.

Dredd nodded curtly and began looking it up himself. "Get some sleep." he ordered. "You can't work like this." he added for good measure.

She let out a short hoarse laugh. "You know, it would sound much better if you formulated it like a concern for my well-being and not my work performance." she commented. "But I'll take what I get." she murmured and laid her head on the table, throwing her arms over it to shield herself from light.

She was woken up by the sounds of human interactions and slowly raised her head, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. Her body hurt from bad sleeping position and strain of past days, but she felt moderately well-rested which did wonders to her mood. When she looked around she saw groups of Judges and other employees of the Hall get their lunch or enjoying their break by chatting with coworkers. She spotted Miles from the administrative and greeted him with a small wave in a brief moment when he wasn't busy trying, and failing, to get a date with Jenny from accounting. He returned it with a grin and a lewd gesture and she responded in kind before turning to face Dredd.

He was nowhere to be seen, but among the mess of paper files stood a half-full cup of coffee. Anderson shrugged and got herself something nutritious and vaguely edible for lunch and took back her tablet. It took her a moment to make sense of her own report, which was downright incomprehensible at times with its abbreviations. She skipped to the bottom of the page, where Brown's living address was displayed.

"Oh, bullshit." she hissed and checked again.

"Doubting my abilities?"

She jumped, having temporarily forgotten her superior. "Well, I mean, this can't be right. No one in their right mind would live there if he had this much money."

Dredd shrugged noncommittally. "We'll see." he clipped and turned to leave.

Anderson hastily took a last bite from her lunch and followed.

Siren's Call and Mermaid's Rest were once intended to be the most luxurious, high-brow housings in the City. They were located on an artificial peninsula, the real estate agents promising a stunning sea view panorama. What they forgot the mention was the graveyard of war machines that lay just few miles off shore. The decades old constructs continued to leak radioactive fluid into the water long after the air and even soil were proclaimed safe to use.

After more than a half of Mermaid's and Siren's denizens developed one kind of cancer or another, the dream of their grandeur was over. The apartment prices plummeted and instead of actresses and businessmen the blocks became inhabited by those too poor and desperate to care about such petty things as radiation poisoning. Crime grew rampant in the two blocks and the mutation rate among infants crawled to the highest in the City. In the festering wound that was Mega City One, Mermaid and Siren represented the necrotic tissue beyond any hope of saving.

And yet, both blocks continued to survive and thrive, developing a symbiosis with their noxious surroundings. Those brave or suicidal enough dove into the irradiated water to recover pieces of old military equipment or to catch specimen of the horrifically mutated fauna that bred in the murky waters, and instead of drugs the black market teemed with hazmat suits and iodide tablets.

From afar the twin Blocks resembled once pretty women that came down with a disfiguring skin disease. Their outsides were a patchwork of rusty external plates, sun-bleached billboards and clusters of spray-painted gang signs and arcane symbols. The constant weathering from sea and air and frequent hurricanes weakened Mermaid's foundations and the whole block tilted a few degrees towards the other one, as if leaning in for a kiss.

The two Judges parked in front of Siren, where on the hundred-seventy-fourth floor the billing address of Cyril Brown was supposed to be. They walked into a spacious airy atrium that must have been magnificent once with its marble floors and a decorative fountain in the middle, but now the marble plates were broken or ripped out altogether, windows shattered and the fountain was filled with filth. Gang members, people who only barely escaped being classified as mutants, random bystanders, they all stopped whatever they were doing and regarded the Judges with cautious and hostile eyes, huddling together, the atmosphere gaining the tinge of hardly contained animosity. Anderson could feel them thinking of every time they broke the law, wondering who the Judges came for and who would be easier to take down first.

A sound of breaking glass and curses broke the tension. In the next moment a short lanky figure dressed in a dark hoodie ran through the crowd, elbowing its way past the gang members. Sound of hasty footsteps accompanied by the tapping of a cane rose up and an old wizened man came into view, moving with youthful energy despite his age. He was completely bald, his scalp shining as if it was polished, and his face seemed to be composed almost solely of wrinkles. He wore a well-worn blue scrub, a stethoscope around his neck, and thick glasses with silvery wire frame.

"Where's the little punk?" yelled the doctor, glaring at the bystanders. He looked around, his eyes narrowing as he spotted Dredd and Anderson. "And what are you doing here?" he spat. "Feeling suicidal?"

"Not more than usual." Anderson retorted with a sneer.

The old man chuckled grimly and turned back to address the forming crown. "Don't stand here and go check after your sons. One of them has my ketamine and equipment and until I get it back, no one gets their rashes treated." he growled and hobbled back to a rusty steel door with the word Medic written over layers upon layers of sprayed tags.

The amassing mob stood for a little while longer, some individuals still considering an attack, but the tension was broken and in the end the crowd dispersed, albeit reluctantly.

"That went unreasonably well." Anderson commented.

Dredd answered with a low grunt and they resumed their way across the atrium until they reached the elevator. As the doors closed, Anderson leaned against them and expanded her mind to its full extent, this time reaching as far as sixty-fifth floor. She could feel the doctor, now she knew his name was Dawson, taking another patient despite his threats, she saw the teen who stole the ketamine, his mind flaring up with vivid hallucinations. The amalgamation of emotions from the inhabitants came crashing down on her, tens of thousands of depressed, happy, hateful, loving, insane individuals, drowning their sorrows in violence, meaningless sex, drugs or any other way.

At hundred and tenth floor, Anderson was capable to reach Brown's apartment. She couldn't pick up any minds on the entire storey save for one, a sparkly fluffy mess of happy feelings and and nauseating joy, which Anderson dismissed as a good trip. A overwhelming feeling of contentment and happiness coursed through her as she attempted to delve deeper into the mind, but in the end got hopelessly lost in the amalgamation and unicorns. Defeated, she pulled back, her own mind seeming kind of depressing in comparison to the yarn ball of happiness. She shook her head, a revoltingly sweet taste still lingering on her tongue, and looked at her companion.

He watched her with a disturbed expression. "Something wrong?" he asked.

"Not really," she shook her head. "Minor complications. Why?"

He didn't answer, but then Anderson noticed strange wetness on her face, and when she touched her cheek she realized she was crying. "Oh, dammit. Hate when this happens." she huffed and with an awkward smile wiped the tears off of her face.

The elevator finally reached the hundred-seventy-fourth floor and the Judges made their way to the apartment thirty-seven B. The hallway was empty and dark, all the apartments on this storey seeming deserted. Only the light bulb above the elevator was working and the circle of light only accentuated the darkness ahead. Once the Judges reached the apartment door, Anderson knocked.

For a while nothing happened, though Anderson could feel the joyful mind move, but then the door swung open.

"Hi, um, can I help you?" a pretty young woman asked.

It was like experiencing nirvana. An intense sense of calm and contentment pervaded every fibre of Anderson's being, her worries and pains erased. The person in front of her seemed like an incarnation of some benevolent deity and Anderson felt that she would do anything to please. Her sensory feed was overloaded with pleasant stimuli and she felt herself sway on her feet.

Then her regular self kicked in and rolled its eyes at the display of temporary insanity. Hiding her embarrassment, Anderson threw a quick glance at Dredd to see if he was similarly affected, but as far as she could tell, he seemed normal. With a small inward grumble, she focused back at the person talking.

On a second look, she looked a lot less divine. She was tall, only few centimeters shorter that Dredd, and thin to the point of being emaciated, which was only accentuated by her narrow face with high cheekbones, framed by a cascade of glossy, red, shoulder-length hair. Wide-eyed, she watched the Judges with a forced uncomfortable smile of a law-abiding citizen being confronted with the enforcers of the law.

A small voice inside Anderson insisted that they were at the wrong apartment, that this lovely friendly soul couldn't have committed anything, and she felt a desire to leave the woman alone. And this time when she looked at Dredd, she noticed that he seemed reluctant to proceed with the standard modus operandi, suggesting that he was maybe feeling the same. Shaking her head, Anderson dismissed the redhead's tampering, which was strong, but was unfocused and barely trained.

"Miss, identify yourself." Dredd said eventually, way more politely that Anderson has ever seen him.

The woman nodded, fearfully chewing on her lip. "I'm Ruby, Ruby Sheehy, I can show you my ID. It's in my back pocket. Don't shoot me." she said and an anxious shiver shook her form as she reached into said pocket of the jeans she was wearing and slowly pulled out an identification card, which confirmed her words.

Anderson stared at her, her brow furrowing at the fact that this person definitely belonged to the fuzzy happy mess of a mind, yet didn't seem to be under influence. The cloudy layer of pleasant feelings seemed more like an innate defense mechanism, rather that a trained one, at least for the most part. Intrigued, Anderson made another attempt to navigate through the maze of incoherent happiness, while Dredd questioned the woman. She made good progress, reaching layers where Ruby's incessant happiness wasn't so... incessant, and some actual thoughts and memories could be accessed.

A pretty little girl with a loving, caring family... a very pretty little girl making all around her happy just by her mere presence... an unfortunately pretty girl...

Cloth pressed to her mouth... sweet smell... sweet, but rotten underneath... dizzy... coarse linen over her face...

A pretty girl who makes all who force her happy... a girl that cries and screams as she does so...

A pretty teenager who makes all who take her happy... she lies motionless and bites her lip until it bleeds... in the shower it doesn't even feel like crying...

Kissing a blade instead of a lover... way out... easy one... she doesn't take it...

A pretty young woman who makes all who pay her happy... she smiles and laughs and flirts... no tears left... bruises cannot be seen if you use enough foundation...

Voice in the dark... an angel of retribution... bringer of change and justice... her way out...

The tips of his claws trace patterns on the skin of her back... when they lay like this, he likes to talk about work...

"OUT!"

It was like being kicked by a horse. The raw strength of the psychic attack was impressive, but it was barely focused and uncontrolled. Before Anderson managed to grasp the situation she found herself on her knees in the dark corridor, her muscles trembling as if she ran a marathon, blood from her nose trickling down her chin.

Ruby was staring at her with the look of utter bafflement. "You're like me."

"Different kind, I think. But yes." Anderson nodded.

The redhead nodded and then threw a quick glance at Dredd, who was in ready in a combat stance, his gun at the ready. "Does he know, or did I just out you?" she asked. "If so, I am really, really sorry."

Anderson too looked at her partner. "He knows."

The look of puzzlement on Ruby's face intensified if that was even possible. "Oh, um, how come you didn't get killed? Or deported? How come you have a job?" she blurted out some of the questions plaguing her mind.

Letting out a small chuckle, Anderson shrugged. "Guess, I am an exception."

Jealousy, longing, hatred, sadness, curiosity, those were just a few of the array of emotions that passed Ruby's face, until she finally settled back on confusion.

Before Anderson had the chance to ask her own set of questions, most of which would be about the specifics of Ruby's powers, A gruff voice interjected. "Miss, what is your affiliation with Mister Cyril Brown, or a mutant named Robert?" he asked bluntly, apparently getting over Ruby's latent mind tampering.

The young woman jumped. "I don't know any of those names." she blurted out, and even if Anderson didn't already know the truth, the lie was so blatant and transparent, she would have seen through it anyway.

Dredd's work-mode scowl deepened, if such notion was even possible, and he acknowledged Ruby's words with a deep hum. "We will need to search the apartment." he said resolutely.

"Please don't. Just, please leave." Ruby pleaded and once more Anderson was feeling the urge to comply. But this time she was ready for it and shrugged the unwanted feeling off.

Keeping an eye on the other mutant, Anderson moved to enter the apartment.

"STOP!"

The horse kicked again, more forcefully this time and Anderson felt the wind get knocked out on her. She intended to rise to her feet, but realized that her body has become almost completely unresponsive to the commands from her brain. She retained some control over fine motoric, but the bulk of her musculature remained frozen in the kneeling position. She looked over to Dredd and saw that he faced similar problems, although he did manage to remain standing.

Ruby stood with her hands raised in a defensive gesture, her fingers trembling, but a victorious, albeit slightly overwhelmed look was on her face. "It worked." she said. "I don't believe it." she added, a bright, maybe a little exhausted smile spreading on her lips. "This is awesome."

Anderson tried to speak, but her tongue and mimic muscles too were impaired and she only managed to utter a muffled groan. She dove into her own brain and attempted to rekindle the connection to her muscles and, even if nothing else, she managed to start feeling her face. She grimaced, feeling the stiffness in her skin and cleared her throat, this time making sure she was actually capable of speaking.

"Stop this or I'll have to force you." she said in a level tone.

Ruby tilted her way in confusion. "How?" she asked, genuine sense of curiosity appearing in her voice.

"You can't hold this up. You will tire out eventually." Anderson stated resolutely. She wasn't bluffing, she could feel the psychic command waste away her energy reserves and she was sure, the same thing was happening to Ruby.

The redhead shrugged with a small smile. "Back-up will be here soon. They'll kill you or something and I'll get myself something sweet to eat. Robert said it would help." she said, intending to sound indifferent, but there was a good deal of uneasiness in her voice.

Though Anderson was already aware of Ruby's more than close affiliation with Bob, she still perched up at the mention of his name. "Speaking of him. Why do you follow him?"

Ruby raised one perfectly plucked eyebrow. "Why? Because he's the best thing to ever happen. He saved my life. He freed me, took me in, showed me that I have these amazing powers and taught me how to use them. In the few months I've been with him, I have become a superhero instead of a..." her voice broke at that point. She shook her head and bit her lip. "You have no right to ask me this. You have never done anything for me."

Anderson clenched her jaw, painfully aware of the truth in her last statement. "I know. I'm sorry. But Bob's not a good person."

It earned another shrug from the young woman. "Of course you'd say that. He tries to change this corrupted system so you want to pain him in a bad light."

"He kills people."

"He has enemies. You always have to fight for your dreams." Ruby shrugged.

"He kills because he gets off on it." Anderson growled.

A dismissive expression passed Ruby's face. "No, he doesn't. He does it to help people like me, or you." she said, adamant conviction tangible in her voice. "You should be on our side. I don't understand why you would stand by those who oppress you."

"Well, I'm not saying that the people I work with aren't sometimes a bunch of close-minded bigoted xenophobic assholes, but I prefer any of them over your boyfriend. He killed a friend of mine and then tortured me." Anderson hissed and tilted her head back, exposing the line of pale scar tissue where her throat has been cut. "I have this from him. And let me tell you, he enjoyed it more than anything he has ever done with you."

"You're lying." the redhead scoffed, her cheeks flushing red with anger. "And even if you're not, why should I care? You've obviously chosen a side."

Frustrated, Anderson let out a deep sigh. "Okay, something else then. He traffics mutants from the Cursed Earth and sells them to fight rings or uses them for human experiments."

The mutant shook her head. "He would never do that. Everything he does is to make our lives better. And I will help him achieve that. I want to help people like me."

"But he doesn't. He is a power hungry lunatic bent on world domination. And you're too dumb to see that."

Ruby shook her head. "I won't talk about this anymore. Shoot her, please." she commanded Dredd shakily.

Anderson cringed, expecting to get killed by her ally, but to everybody's surprise nothing happened. Perplexed, Ruby repeated the command, but got no reaction. She tried different commands and then ordered Anderson to shoot Dredd, but she always got the same result. By that point she was trembling, whether because of rage or exhaustion wasn't clear.

"Where are they? Why doesn't this work?" she mumbled to herself and bit her lip, unsure on how to proceed with the situation, her eyes scouting the corridors for back-up. "I guess, I'll have to kill youmyself. Really sorry about that part." she said reluctantly and pulled out a short switch-blade from her back pocket. With trembling fingers she pressed the blade to Anderson's neck. She bit her lip and tensed up, like an athlete before the starting shot, but she couldn't bring herself to start the cutting.

Anderson quietly watched the mutant, feeling the cold touch of steel above her jugular, using whatever control she had over her muscles to bring herself a little farther from the edge. "You are not a murderer." she said with conviction.

Ruby froze for few seconds and then nodded. "Yeah, I'm not." she said, before cursing and pressing her fingers to the bridge of her nose. At that point it was clear that the upkeep of the psychic connection began to take its toll on her. Her movements became a little more shaky and sluggish and a strained expression appeared on her face. "Wait here." she said to the Judges, as if they had a choice and ran back inside, slamming the door behind her.

Anderson growled and shifted around as much as her muscles allowed her, trying to regain control over her body. She managed to reestablish the connection to her left hand and she used it to retrieve her gun from its holster. With a small victorious smile on her lips, she turned to Dredd.

He was still in the same position, the occasional twitching of his muscled showing that he too was fighting for control over his body, but he didn't seem to progress any further. He let out a deep furious breath and tried again, grinding his teeth.

"...lling you, they won't obey. I don't know what I did wrong." sounded weakly from behind the closed door. A short pause followed and then Ruby spoke again. "No, I can't kill them, I'm sorry, I can't, I'm not that sort of person. I don't know what to do, please help me." she said and paused again. "A blonde chick and a guy who's all scowly and threatening, why?"

Anderson couldn't help but chuckle at that very short but truthful description of Dredd though she was fairly sure that if he could, he would be glaring at her. She aimed her Lawgiver at the door expecting Ruby to step through them at any second. She was right and in the next moment the door opened.

It was as if a completely different person came to view. And the change certainly wasn't for the better. In the few moment that Anderson didn't see her, Ruby's state seemed to worsen considerably. Her already pale face now looked downright ashen and dark deoxygenated blood was dripping from her nose. If possible, she looked even thinner that before, as if all the psychic exertion burned any excess fat on her body. The switch-blade was still in her right hand and with her left she held a cell-phone to her ear.

Immediately, she noticed the gun pointed at her and froze. Fear appeared in her eyes and once again she bit her lip. "Rob-Robbie? Sh-she's pointing a gun on me." she stuttered, her tone pitching-up at the end. Then her expression changed from fearful to horrified. "Robbie? Robert? Bob? Hello?" she almost cried into the phone, but very obviously didn't receive a response.

"Okay, steady." Anderson said calmly. "I don't want to shoot you. Just, stop the mind-control and I won't have to."

Ruby stared at the gun, thinking whether she would manage to run back in, but in the end seemed to decide against it and nodded reluctantly. She closed her eyes and exhaled deeply, her face relaxing as she did so. But nothing happened and her brows furrowed into a confused frown. Perplexed, she opened her eyes again. "I-I can't."

Anderson glared at her. "What do you mean by that?" she growled, thinking Ruby's words to be a lie.

With panic palpable in her voice, Ruby answered. "Please believe me. I don't know, I just, I can't let you go. I don't know why." she pleaded, tears welling up in her eyes. It was clear that she became aware that if she wasn't able to end the command, she would get shot, and even if that didn't happen, the psychic link would continue to drain her energy until she was dead.

Deep in thought, Anderson nodded. "Let me in your head." she commanded.

"What? Why? No!"

"You're lock-jawed. Maybe I can help." Anderson answered truthfully. After seeing Ruby's distrustful look, she added. "If it makes you feel better, I won't dig around anywhere else, I promise."

Reluctantly, with clenched jaw, the redhead nodded. Anderson gave her a reassuring smile and worked through the layers of nauseating happiness to reach the real person underneath. As promised, she didn't consciously look around in Ruby's innermost thoughts, although she picked up some details nonetheless, enough to understand that getting Ruby to the Hall was absolutely imperative. It took her a while, but she managed to find the part of mind responsible for upkeep of the psychic command over the Judges. Not entirely sure on how to proceed, Anderson chose the path of least resistance and instead of trying to break the link with force, she showed a scenario in which the link was no longer necessary, which meant that she tried to convince Ruby's brain into believing both Judges were dead.

It took a moment, but then a small tear appeared in the link, and then another, until it snapped.

Without the command to hold position, Anderson's muscles went limp and only her fast reflexes prevented her from falling face-first to the floor. A little dazed, her limbs trembling, she scrambled to her feet and surveyed the situation. Ruby was on all fours, panting like a dog and the blood from her nose dripped onto the concrete floor. Dredd stood beside her, aiming his gun at her head. If he was shaky from the whole ordeal, he didn't show a sign of it.

"Good job." he commented gruffly.

A most definitely misplaced feeling of warmth and pride welled up in her chest. With a subdued smile, she retrieved a pair of handcuffs from her belt and knelt down beside Ruby. The woman raised her head and without complaints let Anderson bind her hands in front of her stomach.

Anderson responded with a smile and helped the redhead to her feet. Ruby swayed, barely able to hold her footing but she followed obediently, as they made their way back to the elevator. Her stomach growled like a hungry animal and she let out a small desperate noise.

Chuckling slightly, Anderson offered her a protein bar she had stashed in her uniform, this one supposedly cherry-flavored. "It's probably really awful, but, well, better than being hungry."

Ruby tilted her head in distrust. "You're being nice. It's weird. Stop it." she frowned, but after few seconds of consideration took the bar into her cuffed hands, tearing at the colorful packaging with her teeth. She bit in, pulled a face, but kept eating until the whole thing was gone.

Anderson held Ruby by the elbow as they made their way back to the lit elevator. Faint metallic clicking and scraping noises started to echo in the dark corridor and Anderson tilted her head as she listened attentively. Her hand slipped to her gun.

"Rookie." Dredd hissed suddenly and motioned to the elevator. In the light of the single light bulb a small gap opened in the elevator door and a thin silver cone came into view, slowly forcing the door apart until a dark shape slipped out of the elevator shaft.

The creature might have started out as a human, but very little of it could be seen anymore. It was ghastly thin, just a skeleton coated with taunt grayish skin, with morbidly inflated stomach, and a spiky crest running down its spine. It didn't seem to possess anything like eyes or ears, only folds of scar tissue in those places and its nose and mouth amalgamated into one drooling snarling organ. Its hand and feet were surgically removed and replaced with approximately half a meter long steel cones that all ended in a razor sharp tips, the creature standing on them like on stilts. What Anderson took to be a a mane of dirty clumped hair turned out to be a mesh of wires that seemed to replace the mutant's entire cranium.

Dredd fired, the creature got blurry and the shot missed. It reappeared in the next second, running on all fours with unprecedented speed, the steel cones clicking against the concrete. With long leaps it flew along the floor, abruptly changing direction to avoid incoming fire. It maneuvered past the Judges and leaped at its primary target. Ruby.

The redhead screamed and scrambled backwards, only narrowly avoiding evisceration and the creature skidded to a screeching halt, leaving scratches in the concrete. It turned in the blink of an eye and pounced.

"STOP!" Ruby screamed and Anderson felt her muscles lock up, though only for a moment.

The creature was affected as well and its pounce ended just before Ruby's feet. It used this position and sunk its teeth into her calf, eliciting a painful scream from the redhead.

A bullet from Anderson's Lawgiver hit it into its bulbous belly and slammed it against a wall. Ichorous peritoneal liquid and loops of black gangrenous intestines spilled onto the concrete and the creature uttered a piercing wail. But it didn't stay still long enough to be shot a second time and leaped, dragging its innards across the floor. Just like before it went after Ruby.

Anderson moved as if passed her and jumped on the trail of organs, hoping to break the mutant's momentum, but no such thing happened. The rotten ligaments gave way and the monster's entire digestive system fell to the floor without any resistance at all. With undiminished speed the beast ran on.

The sprint then ended abruptly as Dredd, either through sheer luck or amazing display of skill, landed a shot in the mutant's hip joint. The creature tumbled to the ground, momentum carrying it several meters further. It made a futile attempt to move on, the fragments of shattered femur scraping against the concrete, but the action led nowhere and a second shot hit it in the chest. The mutant wailed and curled up into a trembling ball of seething hatred, the floor around it stained with dark blood. For a moment it remained completely still before erupting into movement and leaping at Dredd.

He managed to land a killing blow, blowing off the upped half of the monster's head in a shower of sparks, but the momentum carried the dying creature further and it slammed into him, pinning him to the wall, one of the razor sharp stilts piercing his thorax and driving up the wall behind him. The mutant trashed and squirmed, the mechanized brain sending desperate futile commands to the body, until it went limp and sunk to the floor, the blade sliding out of Dredd.

Anderson cursed and hauled the crying Ruby to her feet, dragging her behind as she ran to her partner. Before she managed to say anything he cleared his throat. "We need to get moving." he said and walked to the elevator, indifferent to the trail of blood he was leaving behind.

With and exasperated huff Anderson followed, Ruby trailing beside her. "That thing..." the redhead spoke up.

"Is what your boyfriend does in his spare time." Anderson snapped.

Ruby shook her head in denial. "But it went after me. Why would he... he wouldn't... he told me..."

"You're a potential information leak. And Dredd and I have the tendency to survive whatever he throws our way. So, he assumed that it would be easier to get rid of you." Anderson explained and watched Ruby fall silent. Once the elevator doors closed behind the she rushed to Dredd's side. "Let me see."

A deep strangled growl echoed in his throat. "No need. I've had worse." he said and clasped his hand over the hole in his lower thorax, which did nothing to lessen the bleeding, a small pool of blood already spreading at his feet.

Ostentatiously, she rolled her eyes. "Oh sure, obviously you're bleeding to death because it feels so nice. Do me the favor and don't be a stubborn cunt this time." she growled at him, completely forgetting about any kind of status quo they were supposed to keep up.

Of all the reaction she expected, amusement wasn't one of them. With a small pained chuckle Dredd leaned back and relaxed as far as he was able.

Anderson offered a curt nod as thanks, unzipped his uniform and lifted the shirt he wore underneath, blood running through her fingers as she did so. She and Dredd let out a simultaneous hiss as his wound was revealed. It was a large uneven hole with frayed edges that started just below the end of his sternum and followed vaguely horizontally to his right side. Dark viscous matter streamed out of the wound, composed of both fresh and coagulated blood and clumps of dark shredded tissue that Anderson guessed was liver or some other vital organ. From the first look it was clear that any amount of the medical gel not be enough to lessen, let alone stop the external bleeding, not to mention the internal.

"Doesn't look good, huh?" Dredd commented stoically, suppressed pain in his voice.

Anderson frowned and absent-mindedly chewed on her bottom lip as she desperately tried to find a solution that didn't involve a divine intervention. After few moments she managed to find one that could potentially work.

"Ruby, I'll need you belt." she said while stripped the chest piece of her uniform.

The redhead tilted her head in confusion, but complied and after a little awkward fumbling, since her hands were tied, handed Anderson the piece of leather.

She took it and bit down on it, holding it between her teeth as she pulled off the white tank top she wore under, leaving her stand there only in a black sports bra. Hastily, she tore the shirt in half, folding the halves into thick squares. She retrieved the medical gel from her belt and applied generous amount to both cloth squares. She emptied the rest of the gel straight into Dredd's wound, no doubt irreversibly gluing his intestines together, and pressed one square to the entry and the other one to the exit wound, blood immediately seeping through them. She took the belt and fastened it around Dredd's chest, making sure that both cloths were held by it. She was aware of the possibility of ramming some bone fragment into Dredd's lungs, but it was a risk she was forced to take, so she decided to hope for the best.

When she tightened the belt, he grasped her arm strong enough to leave a mark and growled a few obscenities. With a strangled hiss he doubled up in pain, laying his head on Anderson's shoulder and when his grip around her arm loosened, she could feel that his hand was shaking. She laid a hand on his shoulder in a comforting gesture and released the breath she didn't know she was holding. Clearing her throat, she stepped back and pulled on her uniform, activating the glove-com.

"This is Control. What's you emergency, Judge?" asked an impersonal, disinterested voice of one of the many operators employed by the Hall.

"Hi, I need a med-wagon at Siren's Call. Immediately. I have two wounded, one severely." Anderson summarized the situation.

The sound of fingers darting across keyboard came as an answer, before the voice spoke again. "The unit closest to you has been notified. The approximate arrival time is twenty-five to thirty minutes."

"What?!" Anderson barked into the com. "Are you kidding me? My partner will bleed out in that time."

The operator let out an annoyed sigh. "We're stretched thin. There's not enough units to covet the emergencies. Screaming at me won't change that. If you want, go speak to the higher-ups and get us funds. Until then, the medical station in the block is sure to provide you with necessary care. Is this all you wanted?" he asked in his indifferent monotone.

"Yeah." Anderson clipped. "Thanks." she added, trying not to sound too sarcastic and waited until the control cut the connection. With a frustrated sigh she rubbed her eyes. "Okay, so we'll see what the medic here is like."

Dredd nodded stiffly, his entire being focused on keeping himself upright. The hasty, less-than-professional treatment Anderson provided helped only marginally and the wall behind him was coated with a solid layer of red.

The elevator reached the ground floor and released the three bloodied figures into the atrium. Again everybody stared with apprehension at the Judges, but when they looked at Ruby, their expressions changed, hate replaced by utter bliss and then followed by confusion, as they questioned the temporary insanity that they felt befell them. As swiftly as possible Anderson led her two companions to the steel door with Medic written on it and opened it.

The medical station for the former most luxurious block in the City couldn't be anything else than ostentatious, at least in the past. The door opened to a spacious waiting room with a mosaic floor that after the years missed more than half the pieces and the formerly white benches were broken, filthy and for the most part occupied. Just from one look Anderson noticed that the vast majority were cancer patients, wraiths with hollow cheeks, enlarged lymph-nodes, their faces flecked with the everpresent sarcoma.

Anderson offered a polite nod to the assembled people. "We'll have to cut in line, I'm sure you understand." she smiled and navigated to the door to the only exam room with lights switched on, which for some reason had to be the very last on the corridor. It contrast to the other ones Anderson passed, it was smaller and the walls were painted a different color. Something seemed off about it and when she noticed the way the floor was a little sloped, the drain in the middle and rows of cold boxes on the back wall, she realized it was a morgue.

Doctor Dawson was in the middle of examination of a skinny boy with maps violet lesions ravaging his body and when Anderson came barging in and he looked up with a frown, ready to throw them out and curse them to hell. Then he noticed the blood smeared all over the tiles in the corridor.

"Wait outside. I have to take care of this." he told the teenager and turned to the Judges. "Get him on the slab." he ordered, pulling out a pair of rubber gloves.

With haste Anderson helped her partner to an old, but well-preserved operation table and helped him lay down on it. By this point he was barely conscious, his entire front covered in blood.

"Are you blood compatible?" the doctor asked straight on, not bothering with other questions or even an examination.

Anderson nodded. "I'm zero negative."

"Good." the doctor clipped. "I take, an ambulance is already on its way?"

"Yep."

"How long?"

"Twenty minutes."

"Get on the table and roll up you sleeves." he motioned to Anderson's jacket.

She did as she was told and settled on the uncomfortable cold surface, wondering whether hers and Dredd's combined weight wouldn't prove too much for the antiquated piece of equipment. Without thinking about it she pressed her mind to that of the medic to see what would be the next step. Currently he was thinking about heparin.

A sudden longing to run away washed over Anderson and she immediately turned to Ruby, only to find the mutant slowly make her way to the door. "Sit down or I'll kneecap you." she growled and glared at the redhead until she saw her obediently curk up in the doctor's chair.

The medic didn't comment on the exchange and stalked over to the slab, a kidney dish with an array of surgical tools in hand. Without him needing to say anything, Anderson tilted her head back and exposed her jugular. The doctor raised an eyebrow in surprise, but didn't comment on it and unceremoniously administered her the dose of anticoagulant. He then retrieved a pair of scissor and began cutting the uniform over Dredd'd elbow crease. The composite didn't yield at first but in the end the doctor got through it. With a grunt the old man tied a thick rubber band around Dredd's left biceps before turning to Anderson and repeating the process, only this time tying the band above the right wrist.

He then pulled out another piece from the kidney dish, a pair of cannulas connected via a short flexible tube. Though never having a particular problem with needles, Anderson shuddered as she beheld the diameter of the cannula that was supposed to go into the artery bulging at her wrist. As the needle pierced her skin she closed her eyes and clenched her jaw, but no pain or feeling of her blood vessels bursting didn't come. When she opened her eyes again, the cannula was safely embedded in her radial artery and secured with an adhesive plaster, while the other end was similarly fixed to Dredd's cephalic vein. The tube connecting the two cannulas pulsated in the rhythm of Anderson's heart, an indicator that the life-giving connection was working.

Dawson grabbed Anderson by the elbow and made her lean forward and adjusted her arm so that her canulated it rested palm-up on Dredd's pectoral, meaning that the gravity as well would work in favor of the transfusion, before loosening the tie around it. "Should you feel nauseous or weak, let me know. Last thing I need is for you to pass out." he ordered sternly and went on to uncover the wound. With grim expression he surveyed the entirety of the injury and then readied a cauter, letting the thin wire extension on its end get white hot.

Anderson let out a strangled hiss as the stench of burned flesh filled the air and a single weak muscle spasm coursed through her partner. She leaned forward, careful to not disturb the working doctor. "You better not die, or I'll crawl through whatever hell you end up in and get you back." she said, her voice barely above audible levels. "And then I'll kick your ass." she added with a smirk.