Book 2: Chapter 82: Terrible Things (1/2)

Detective Hauss knelt over the charred corpse, closely scrutinizing it. One hand pressed a handkerchief against his nose, while the other poked at the body's spiked collar with a metallic pen. He tapped his implement against the collar several times, and bits of blackened metal flaked away. The device was remarkably intact, given the state of its wearer.

”A fashion statement?” Hauss posited unconvincingly. He poked it again. ”Awfully sturdy.”

Dan considered what to say. Anastasia hadn't told him to withhold information, and the detective seemed genuinely uncertain as to the collar's use. Dan was certain that the FBI knew about the pain collars, but that information apparently hadn't leaked down the line to police officers. Whether that was because it was supposed to be a secret, or they just hadn't needed to know, Dan could only guess.

Well, if Anastasia hadn't wanted Dan to leak classified information she shouldn't have asked him for help.

”It's a pain collar,” Dan offered, pulling out his own bit of cloth and fashioning it into a mask. He stepped towards the body, and crouched beside Detective Hauss. Upon closer inspection, the electronics had clearly been melted, though the casing was mostly intact.

Hauss scowled at him. ”Please tell me that's some kind of edgy fad and not exactly what it sounds like.”

”It's exactly what it sounds like,” Dan confirmed solemnly. ”All I know about it is the People are known to use it, and that it's supposed to cause immense pain to the wearer.” He paused, then added, ”It's been suggested to me that, under sufficient duress, a person's upgrade might theoretically mutate, and dramatically outperform its previous limits.”

Hauss scoffed. ”What, like an adrenaline rush for upgrades? That's a bunch of hokum, son. Upgrades don't work like that.”

Dan didn't bother arguing. Instead, he offered, ”The People might think they do.”

The detectives frown deepened, though he directed it at the body. ”You're thinking this is a terrorist who tried to break his own upgrade?”

”I don't know about that,” Dan said. ”I'm just relaying to you what I do know. That's why I'm here.” And to be Anastasia's spy, but that was better left unsaid.

Hauss stared down at the body, his face screwing up in silent displeasure. The other officers had moved towards the end of the barge, to give them some space to work. Their efforts continued, as more and more metal piled up along the boat's length. They'd be running out of space soon, so a decision needed to be made.

”We need actual evidence, not theories,” Hauss decided. He reached into his vest and produced a DNA swabbing kit. It was little more than a Q-tip in a bottle. He brushed the cotton swab along the exposed... bits, and bottled it up tight. He replaced the kit with another, and did this three more times.

”It'll go to the lab for testing. Shouldn't take too long to find a match if they're in the system.”

Dan nodded at the explanation. ”What's next?”

Hauss opened his mouth, but paused as his radio barked something incomprehensible. He unclipped it, his face still in its perpetual frown. The radio went up to his ear, as he barked, ”Repeat that!”

The noise came again, and Hauss' eyes widened.

”Confirmed?” he asked sharply.

Another burst of muddled noise that Hauss clearly understood. He turned to Dan, something approaching a grin finally crossing his face.

”We think we've found a survivor,” he said.

”A survivor?” Dan echoed. ”A survivor of what?”

Hauss gestured towards the bridge as he stomped away, shouting for a boat.

”The bridge?” Dan asked incredulously. He jogged after the detective. ”Are you telling me there were no survivors at all?!?”

”Nobody close enough to tell us anything useful,” Hauss confirmed. ”There was a traffic jam at the time of the build-up. Those inside the blast zone were killed, and those outside if it were too far away to see anything of note. The survivor claims to have directly witnessed the attack.”

He waved his arms at the closest police watercraft, and planted himself at the edge of the barge as it approached.

”Coast Guard helicopters fished him out of the water almost half a mile out,” Hauss continued. ”He's injured, but alive. Damn lucky, too.”

Dan agreed with that statement wholeheartedly. The survivor's upgrade had needed to withstand both the insane heat of the fireball, and the massive pressure wave generated in its absence. Maybe he was a Natural?

The two of them loaded into the boat as soon as it arrived, and within minutes they were zipping across the shoreline towards the Coast Guard staging area where the survivor had been brought for medical care. The boat docked, and Hauss quickly leapt to shore, with Dan following on his heels. A series of large canopy tents had been erected across a flat parking lot. The medical tents offered more protection, being fully enclosed and painted with red crosses. Hauss strode towards the latter, and Dan followed. Another KWPD detective met them mid-way, rushing through an explanation as they approached the medical tents.

”Some bruised ribs, and his scales are burned but its only on the surface,” the new detective said. ”No internal bleeding, nor any real life threatening injuries. He's conscious, but a little concussed.”

”Scales?” Hauss asked.

The detective checked his notes. ”Apparently he's modded himself quite extensively. He looks... well, you'll see for yourself.”