Neal Barrett - Judge Dredd

“What do you want me to do?” he said. “What are your orders, Judge?”

“Shut up,” she said, “I’m thinking.”

“Let’s go get the lousy droogs. I’ll lead off, you follow!”

“As you were!” Hershey ducked as a burst of fire slammed into her machine. “You see that? This is not an Academy simulation, Briscoe, this is real! We will stand down and wait for backup!”

“Judge—”

Briscoe’s words disappeared in a hail of fire that sent him reeling. When the acrid smoke cleared, a concrete gully a foot deep snaked across the street from one curb to the next. The line ran an inch from Briscoe’s knee.

“That is mucking heavy arms. These guys aren’t kidding!”

“What’d you expect,” Hershey said, “spitballs? Comm-Delta, Comm-Delta, this is Jaybird-Fiver, in position outside Heavenly Haven, Red Quad. Under fire, I repeat, we are under fire. Request backup, nearest Judge. Nearest—”

A fireball suddenly erupted behind her. Flames licked the side of the building and glass exploded from the windows. A woman shrieked as oily smoke blackened the street. A second blast geysered beside the first and a wall of heat struck Hershey like a fist.

“Request backup now, damn it,” Hershey shouted into her comm. “Now, or forget it!”

Briscoe raked the upper floors with his Lawgiver. A section of the wall collapsed and tumbled to the street.

“That is fire -ammo, Judge. Where’d they get their hands on that?”

“Where the hell do they get their hands on anything?” Hershey muttered. “They just do.”

Hershey tried to give the shooters a blast but the withering fire drove her down. The street was a wall of flame and there was no place to go. She glanced at Briscoe. She was glad the Rookie couldn’t see her face. It suddenly struck her that they’d stick a roach on her record for improper comm behavior. So what if they did? Who’s going to chew out a barbecued Judge?

Where’s the backup? What are you jerks doing out there!

“Judge, we could—I could lay down some fire. You could maybe get out of here, get us some help.”

“Forget it,” Hershey said, “no one’s going anywhere.”

Briscoe nodded. “Yes, Judge. I just thought…”

“I know what you thought. And thanks for the offer, all right? I won’t forget you made it.”

“Judge Hershey…”

“What, Briscoe?”

“If we don’t get out of this, if anything should—”

Hershey’s Lawmaster lifted into the air. Hershey screamed as the blast sent her rolling helplessly, head over heels along the street. Blood trickled from her ears. From the corner of her eye she could see the big machine against the sky. Time played tricks in her head and the Lawmaster seemed to float forever like a black steel balloon. It was spinning very slowly, directly overhead. Which meant, she decided, when it did come down it would flatten her into mush.

It didn’t seem important at the moment, the Lawmaster didn’t show any sign at all of coming down, and if it did, she would certainly have the sense to get out of the way, any droog could do that…

Briscoe scooped her up in his arms as Hershey’s Lawmaster struck the ground like a bomb. He leaped for the cover of his machine, gunfire chewing up the street at his boots. The Lawmaster exploded in a burst of white flame. Briscoe sprawled on the ground and covered Hershey’s head. He opened her visor and saw blood coming from her nose.

“Judge, you—you all right?”

Hershey blinked. “No, Briscoe, I’m not all right. Now get off of me.”

“Judge—” Briscoe’s eyes went wide. What if she thought that he… Oh, God, she couldn’t think that!

“These machines are supposed to serve as a protective barrier under any adverse circumstances a Judge might encounter in the line of duty,” Hershey said. “I repeat, any adverse circumstances.”

“I guess they don’t,” Briscoe said.

“If you can’t depend on your equipment, you are in deep shit, Rookie.”

“Judge. We can’t stay here. We’ve got to get out of the street.”

Hershey snapped her visor shut. “We can’t get out of here, we’re pinned down under overwhelming fire. Don’t you know that?”

Tracer bullets rained down on the street. Lead beat a steady tattoo on the armor of Briscoe’s machine.

“No, Judge, I don’t know that. I know if we don’t get out of here we’ll die and I definitely don’t want to do that.”

“You’re not going to die.”

“Who says I’m not?”

“I do, Rookie. When our back-up comes—”

“Our backup isn’t coming, Judge. Our backup is somewhere else, caught in another street fight.”

Hershey raised her visor again and gave him a chilling look. “You are wrong, Briscoe. Article Nineteen says a Judge in pursuit of his or her duty is never abandoned. When a Judge requires aid, aid will be rendered in sufficient force to remedy the situation in question. Have you read the Articles, Rookie?”

“Sure, but this time—”

“There is no ‘this time.’ The Articles apply to every time. Do you read me? Do you—”

Hershey jerked around as a deep roll of thunder reached her ears. The thunder exploded and a black Lawmaster burst through the curtain of flame. The rider slammed a heavy boot on the brakes, spinning his machine in a circle, blasting the scent of rubber into the smoky air. Gunfire ringed the man in a cage of hot steel.

Briscoe stared. “Who the… Who the hell’s that? He’s a sitting duck out there!”

“Shut up and pay attention,” Hershey said, “you might learn something.”

Flames licked at the dark figure’s heels. He stalked through the fire, ignoring the chatter of weapons from overhead. Lifting the speaker-mike from his Lawmaster, he turned and let his visored gaze sweep the tall buildings on every side.

“Drop your weapons. Everybody. This block is under arrest.”

His voice filled the streets, echoing off the dark walls.

“Holy crud.” Briscoe raised up and blinked. “It’s him—it’s Dredd!”

High-pitched laughter rang from the tenement overhead. “You want us, come up and get us, Dreddy!”

“Yeah, c-come up and get us, okay?”

Gunfire dug up chunks of pavement at Judge Dredd’s feet.

“Judge Dredd, take cover!” Briscoe shouted.

Dredd ignored him. He walked over and looked down at Briscoe, then at Hershey.

“What are you doing down there, Judge Hershey?”

“Waiting for backup,” Hershey said.

“Backup’s here.” He slapped the side of his Lawgiver. “Let’s go. Keep it simple. Standard relay. Single file. I’m point.”

Hershey nodded. Briscoe straightened eagerly, snapping to attention in front of Dredd. “Judge, I would consider it an honor if you allowed me to—”

“You…” Dredd raised a gloved hand and pointed past Hershey. “Back there. You’re tail-end Charlie. Go.”

Dredd turned away. He looked at his weapon and spoke.

“Grenade!”

The door exploded and slammed against the far wall. Dredd stepped inside. He looked at the trash and the darkened elevator shaft

“Upstairs. The perpetrators’ fire comes from Six.”

He kicked the door to the stairwell aside and started up. It was nearly pitch-dark and he didn’t use a light. He kept up a hard and steady pace and didn’t stop until they reached Six. Hershey was grateful she hadn’t slacked off on her ASJEX routine—the Advanced Street Judge Exercise program. Briscoe was breathing hard behind her. She hoped Dredd didn’t hear that.

Dredd paused in the stairwell, peered around the corner, then stepped into the hall, sweeping his weapon from left to right.