As Above So Below

Part 4

Paulson drove with the laser focus of a homing missile, as if he and the tracker round shared a mind. The coordinates pointed to a place just outside the city limits. Some could argue it was the job of the Sheriff's department, but the two couldn't care less at that moment. The tracker's blip on their GPS had slowed down considerably but they kept going at the highest speed possible and had no time to lose. Lives were at stake. Minds that could have been saved from a fate worse than death. Ramos quickly tended to her wound and dressed it tightly enough to hold but with a bit of space to allow for healthy circulation.

The road wasn't marked on the map. The satellite image only showed a wasteland with the occasional collection of shrubs huddled together. As they kept following the trail south, they came to an entrance to what looked like an enormous tunnel. There were no fresh vehicle tracks in it, but a skilled pilot could likely fly in a truck if they wanted to.

Ramos got out of the car and immediately reached for her gun, "We should continue on foot. Less chance of scaring our perp away," she mused and scanned the entrance for cameras or sensors. Her cyberware didn't pick up on anything so she moved into the tunnel, with her gun in front of her.

Paulson reversed the car away from the entrance and joined his partner without delay. He drew his smart pistol after wiping his palms on the sides of his trousers. Sweat just didn't want to stop making his hands slippery, even though he usually had a decent grip on his emotions and kept his cool well. Droplets of cold sweat kept making his spine tingle. He noted that on a deep, unconscious level, his body did not want to be there.

There was less and less light as they advanced, and they had to eventually switch to night vision to see what they were stepping on. The dirt surrounded by a large, concrete circle looked like an endless, fallen column built by giants. The smell of dry earth seemed almost alien to the two city dwellers. With an uneven step forward, they would disturb it a few times, making their boots dig into deeper, fresher ground. The scent made Ramos think of loss for some reason. It stung like grief that could not be taken away by any amount of comforting.

Eventually, the dirt became an old asphalt road filled with holes for perhaps a dozen of steps, maybe two, to then turn into a tarmac-like surface that felt sturdy and made by well-funded professionals.

"I don't like this," Paulson admitted, "We should get backup. This looks creepy as fuck," he urged.

"I'm not letting that psycho slip again. We got sloppy the last time. We're going to go in there and get the drop on them," Ramos was determined to see the end of the case. She kept advancing further ahead, taking careful yet decisive steps.

Paulson glanced over his shoulder at the last echoes of light behind them. The sun was starting to set.

"Do I have your back on this, Paulson? Or are you going back?" Ramos barked. She lowered her gun and turned to her partner.

"You always have my back," he replied, "I'm trying to have your back and tell you that we shouldn't go there like this."

Ramos resumed her journey forward and raised her gun again, pointing it ahead, trying to pierce the encroaching darkness by turning on her flashlight attachment.

"I can't let this wait. Not when we're this close. Not after that joker played us for fools," Nita replied, "Keep quiet and maybe we can surprise them," she lowered her voice to a whisper.

It was as easy as putting one leg in front of the other and ignoring the cool, dusty gloom that surrounded them. At times it seemed like it stuck to the skin or the air, like a single thread from a cobweb.

A long discarded piece of glass shattered further under a heavy police boot. Neither Ramos nor Paulson knew which one of them stepped on that mine. They didn't have the luxury of time.