"The dead kid's name is Rick Allen. Heck, I shouldn't even call him a kid. He's a thug…one of the worst ones we've come across. Anyway, he's supposedly in foster care but when we made contact with the parents, we found out that he ran away months ago. They alerted juvenile services but sounds like nobody did a damn thing about it. Another kid lost in the system."
Roy Dewitt's even tone of voice was a symphony to his throbbing skull, both distracting him from the unbearable pain while answering some of the burning questions that had troubled him since waking up in the hospital.
"The other two kids, the fatalities…we got nothing on their preliminary ID's so far. My guess is there're out-of-towners. Can you believe that? We used to have to worry about motorcycle gangs terrorizing cities, now we got fifteen-year-olds doing the same thing. Times are changing for sure."
The answers provided were what his gut had told him all along about the group; a bunch of renegade kids who had somehow found each other and decided to make life miserable for everyone in their path.
Like a pack of wild dogs, they were circling the streets, taking on the first innocent victim they came across. What their motivation was, beyond the need to commit pure evil was for them to find out.
"I've got Jeannie talked down. She was going to come straight up here from Tuscan but I told her there is nothing she can do and that I would keep her informed- or you would once you feel up to it. I must have gotten really good at negotiations to get her to listen to me. She's more bullheaded than you are."
The feeling-up-to-it part was the one that still worried him the most. His body had been very clear when it came to what had been injured during the confrontation with the gang, the nurses and doctors stopping by to check on him doing the rest. It was a long list of issues, the worst thereof his brain bleed and some of the internal bleeding they were keeping an eye on.
The damage had been wreaking havoc on his blood pressure, making him the recipient of visits every fifteen minutes or less to check on his condition.
Despite the brain bleed bringing on the mother of all headaches; Mike had been able to make sense out of Roy's thorough explanations, even managing to remember most of it when he woke up the next time.
Steve…
Steve was banged up but quite alright, no life-threatening injuries to report. That made him feel better already.
And while he loathed the considerable recovery time the attack had brought on, he'd been glad to be the recipient of most of the attention, leaving his partner well on his way out of the hospital in another day or so. Bones could heal, but the viciousness of the attack could have led to a much worse outcome under the circumstances.
At least for now, everyone was safely accounted for, patrols had been stepped up in the area and hopefully, in a few more days he'd feel up to continuing the investigation, even if it meant doing so from the comforts of a hospital bed.