Death Wagon

Do No Harm…on Camera.
Billy leaned heavily upon the hood of the ambulance, cigarette dangling from his mouth as he filled out the paper work for the last call we took. Cursing as ashes scattered over the pad, Billy swept a hand over the tri-carbon form to clean it. It was just past midnight, only two hours into the shift and we had just finished our third call. I look up and back into the rig as the whir of precise motors catches my attention. Kat’s feet bounced to time with some techno music dangling from the stirrups of the stunner turret on the top of the ambulance. Kat ran a systems check on firm point weapon, changing out the ammo belt, working the tips of the rounds with a micro scalpel. Smiley faces, single letters, anything she could carve into the blunted one eighth inch gel round. Sighing I call over my shoulder, “You know one day you are going to pierce one of those casings and it’s going to jam the barrel.”

A slender hand descends giving me the finger. I pretend not to notice, this time.

I shift uncomfortably in the driver’s seat; this new body armor is stiff and cheap, despite its light weight. I wipe at the thin film of crust on my brow, the stations mist bath was obvious not filtering out the hard minerals in the water again. Wiping my hand over my uniform I watch the frequency dials, waiting for the next call. Which of course in Stratus City doesn’t take long, it never did.

Billy slumps into the passenger seat next to me as the call box squawks. “All units advised we have zero coverage. Finish your shit and get back out there.” Billy smirks taking up a mic headset, “That you Momma? Unit Seven here, we just finished up. Whatcha got?”
There was a long pause before the box chimed again, the voice overly sweet and motherly. “Hey Sugar. How you and the boys doing? Did the twins make it?”

I roll my eyes we are not suppose to relay information of a patient nature other than the statistics and condition. Yet, that seldom stopped any of us from doing so. Especially Billy. Smiling placing an unlit cigarette in his mouth, “The mom is fine, the kids are alive. The mom wants to name one after me. It is like being a dad without all the fuss and child support.”

The voice over the channel snorted, “I am going to pretend you didn’t say that, sugar. We have a shoot out on west Sal-Savvy and Kenaz. Multiple wounded, Paladin is on scene and already in retreat.”

Working the stick shift I get the ambulance underway. Billy slots the GPS map in front of him as he calls into the mic again. “Paladin? What are those white hats doing that far into the sprawl? Shouldn’t they be guarding a golf course or something?” Seeing the look I was giving him, Billy cleared his throat. “On our way, Central.”

Hitting the sirens, I guide the rig along the streets, traffic veering out of the way to clear our path. Blocks from the scene, I could already see two vehicles ablaze and the sparks of firearms as they spat into the night. A slender motorcycle dashed in front of the rig, the rider tossing an object over the shoulder that bounced on the hood of the ambulance before taking a magnetic hold on the high part of the hood near the windshield.

Billy shouted, “Jackers!” Kat ratcheted the slide on the turret, opening up on the fleeing motorcycle. Twin long barreled rapid firing guns barked in a steady stream, shell casings raining down over the roof of the ambulance. Gel rounds filled the air, peppering the motorcycle and striking the rider. The motorcycle careened and fell with a shower of sparks sliding to a stop lodged under a mini van. The rider flopped like a fish out of water on the street.

Slamming on the brakes, my body tensed ready for the explosion that was sure to come from the short blinking tube of metal that gripped the hood. Billy fumbled with the door, trying to get it open. Slamming an arm over his chest to keep him still, I seethe through gritted teeth. “We’re better off in here, the armor should hold.”

Seconds ticked by, the end of the cylinder opened and a smaller tube came into view, angling away and towards the scene. Sighing relief Billy chuckled, “Fuckin…fucking A. It’s only the press. Jesus Christ on a pogo stick, Suture. I thought we were toast.”

Squinting in annoyance I shift the stick back into drive. “Anything for a story these days. Kat, dump a few more rounds into that idiot.”

The guns of the turret barked again, pummeling the prone man, causing him to writhe and roll out of the path of the vehicle.
Billy, flipped screens on the GPS, “I’m punching up a satellite feed for the scene now, should be a clear path if we…what the hell?” Billy frowned and tapped the screen harshly. “I got nothing, sat-navigation just went down.”

Gripping the wheel tighter, I can feel my gut telling me something was wrong, way wrong. “Poly storm?”

Billy shook his head, “Weather report hasn’t issued a warning for one. It’s like we’re blacked out, literally the next eight square blocks do not fucking exist according to this hunk of junk!”

I can feel my blood pounding in my ears, “Kat! Patch your targeting feed to Billy, one eighty pan. Switch to thermal.”

Billy gripped the mic of the headset, “Central, this is Unit Seven. We have no satellite feed of the scene. Advise, we have no feed.”
The road ahead was blocked with abandoned vehicles riddled with bullet holes. Forms crouched around the wrecks, exchanging gun fire. Billy cursed, taking off the head set. “Central is blocked. Complete blackout.” The feed from Kat’s turret flittered across the pad. Beyond the road block a single white armored van had been T-boned by what was once a sanitation truck. Three men hugged the side of the modified garbage truck, alternating fire between someone in the van and those that hid behind the improvised road block. Jackers. Body harvesters, seeking internal organs they could sell on the green market. Loathsome examples of humanity at its wits end.

A stray bullet spanged off the armored windshield between Billy and I causing poor Billy to flinch. On the far side of the scene a Paladin squad car burned merrily. Its authority lights on top had been shot out dark yet still spinning. I pulled the ambulance down a side street. Billy canted his head towards me, “The scene is too hot, we can’t go in there.” his voice shaking slightly.

Letting my expression grow dark, I nearly spat my response. “We are not leaving. Replay the feed and give me a count. We are under contract to save lives, as many as we can.”

Billy huffed, “We go in we get whacked, they are going to scope us a mile away. The Jackers are already here; they dumped the net guns and are using LIVE ammo. They ain’t playing, Suture. Whatever they are after has got to be pretty fucking valuable to them. Maybe a clean breeder or whatever, but you know as well as I no one fucks with Jackers…and lives.”

Seeing I was not going to be swayed Billy sighed looking at the pad on his lap. “I count six on the barricade, at least three Jackers, more like eight we don’t see and no idea how many in the van.” Replaying the feed once more, Billy pointed at the screen. “Looks like a pair of fallen, one is a Paladin officer for sure.”

My eyes comb the street, looking over the store fronts and finally centers on a dress shop. Billy frowns, “You got that look on your face again. I hate that look.”

“What look?”

“The look that says, ‘I’m gonna save the fuckin day’ look. That one.”

I rev the engine, angling the ambulance to center on the shop. I called up to the turret. “Kat, brace for impact.”

Billy gapes, “No. No. No! We are not doing this!”

Billy’s words get drowned out as I smash the ambulance into the front of the shop, the vehicle crashing through the see through aluminum window, chewing through racks of women’s clothes. Kat turns bubble turret around so the barrels pointed at the rear, the top of the turret raking the ceiling leaving sparks and broken tile in its wake. The ambulance hits the back wall, tearing through it like tissue paper into the shop behind it.

We burst through the font of the shop in a shower of merchant goods, and a good chunk of the store front. The gun fire stops, perhaps confused at our arrival. I shout, “Kat light those Jackers up!” Kat needed no prompting as she angles the guns, rounds thundering into the trio on the side of the garbage truck. Billy kicks open the passenger door, firing at the Jackers with twin drawn revolvers. For all his complaining and swearing the man knew how to shoot. As per protocol the first rounds had to be nonlethal, the rest were considered self defense in the line of contracted duty. Billy preferred anti personal rounds. Tiny skin piercing pellets that were hardly lethal, but they hurt and burned like a hornets nest. I was a fan of rock salt myself, ratcheting my sawed off Mossberg looking towards the barricade of cars before opening the door.

Not many people would stand up to Jackers, so I viewed it as a gamble that they would remotely be on out side in a way. One of the Jackers went down beaten half to death with Kat’s onslaught. Billy puts a round into another, splattering the man’s head on the side of the modified garbage truck. The third makes a break for it, rushing the van. Yanking the driver door open the Jacker gets shot in the chest from someone in the van, and then two more rounds slam into his back from Billy. Rounding the side of the rig, I watch the man fall. Whirling to support Billy, I aim towards the barricade my blood pumping waiting for shots to come.

No shots, just an eerie silence. I call to the ambulance, “Kat! Sweep the scene. Billy Get me an assessment of the van.” Now for the moment of truth, I shout to the barricade. “Do you have any wounded?”

Like a jack in the box a man pops up from behind a car, wielding an archaic semi auto rifle. Leveling the weapon the man aimed, and shouted back. “Nothing you credit rats can have!” The man wore a tattered uniform of tan and brown and a small black armored vest over it. I know the colors, they were neighborhood protectors. Part of the city’s largest and most scattered gang, the Long Arms. Fifty years ago they were simply known as the ‘Police’.

“Clear your scene and get out, credit rat! You got five minutes!” An unfamiliar red dot danced on my chest plate. A laser sight? Who the hell used those anymore? Lowering my shotgun, I wasn’t about to press the man, half running to join Billy once again.

Billy stood in front of the open door to the van, showing empty hands. Kat trained the turret on the van. Billy laughed nervously, “Easy. Easy lady, we are here to help. Just put the gun down…nice and easy.” Looking through the spider webbed windshield of the van I could see someone sat unmoving next to the lady who held her gun with shaking hands pointed at Billy. Gently easing Billy to the side, to take over I calmly introduced myself.

“ Ma’am. I’m Curtis Wiles, I’m with Rapid Emergency Critical Response. We need to take a look at you…whoah.”

The lady’s eyes glazed with shock, dressed in nothing more than a lab coat. The cut on her forehead streamed blood staining the coat. Her hair was buzzed short to the point the woman appeared to be bald. Swallowing, I spoke to Billy. “Billy, go. I want to know where those other Jackers are. I got this. Get Kat off the turret and have her get the Paladin.”

Billy whistled to the ambulance and pointed at the fallen Paladin. The lady’s head weaved and crashed forward over the steering wheel her eyes closing. Her breath shallow, contusions lined the side of her body, likely from the impact. Checking her spine, seeing no damage I gave her a scan just to be sure with my hand held med unit to be sure. The scanner did not even start, knocking the unit against my palm. “Damn thing must be busted.”

Easily scooping the woman into my arms, I nearly drop her as one of the Long Arms appeared at my side. “Jeezus!” The Long Arm was much younger than the one I spoke to, barely out of his teens with a rat’s nest of black hair. Judging from the wary expression on his face the kid was about to do something he was asked not to. He whispered something. I shook my head, “What? We’re moving. Just stay back.”
“Med-Kit.” The boy said.

Sighing, I shifted the unconscious woman in my arms. “You need a Med-Kit? Help me get her into the rig and you got it, kid.” The boy, held the rear doors to the ambulance as I placed her down on the first cot. Running the straps over her body I yell through the doors. “Billy! What’s the news on the Jackers?”

Billy popped his head around the side of the ambulance, “Six pack of veggies in the back of the garbage scow. They were in a VR porn program and it went bad. That or it’s because of this fucking signal blackout. Either way they are drooling, jizz spent, blank slates.” Leave it to Billy to always assume porn…

Kat moved a motorized gurney to the ramp of the ambulance, pushing the fallen Paladin officer in next to the unconscious woman. The boy gawked as he took in the sight of Kat. Perfect porcelain features, with glittering coal black eyes returned the boy’s stare. Kat was as nearly as tall as I was, and far thinner. Smirking, I couldn’t help but rattle the street rat further.

“What’s the matter kid? You never seen a Martian before?”

Gun fire erupted from the barricade again spoiling my fun, Billy leapt into the back, nearly spilling over the patients. The sound of the gun fire was centered away from the rig. “They are not shooting at us. More Jackers?” I asked Billy.

“Like I am going to fucking check, lets burn some crete and get out of here!”

The sound of steel on steel crashing sounded from the barricade. Leaping into the driver’s seat I didn’t even buckle up. Revving the engine I slammed the ambulance in reverse. “Kat we’re loaded, back to the turret! Billy, stay with the patients.”

Billy grunted, “What about the kid?”