Anne Marie Talbott
“Man, I’ve never seen anything like this,” I mutter to the screen in front of me. The stale smelling air in the office circulates slowly around me as the electronics hum in the background. “You know? I’ve been in this business a damn long time and never…” Max grunts as he looks over the vid I’ve sent him. “Spirit! Me neither. What the hell happened? Someone making some crazy juice up there? Found any?” He glances back to me from the other screen, grimacing. He’s been in the cop business longer that I’ve been so my instincts were right—if it upsets him, it’s gotta be as bad as I thought it looked. I’m no fainting pansy myself but jeeze…I shudder. “Nope. Doc says no trace of drugs. There was some grass in the compartment, but it was only the company-issued crap they give out for anxiety. The little green pellets. Nothing else. Nothing but this.” I look down at the vids myself, displayed on my desk. They show… They show what used to be a human, although you’d be hard pressed to guess that at first. There are parts everywhere in the compartment; the man was literally pulled limb from limb and then the limbs were, well, destroyed. Most of them. A hand looks up forlornly at me from one shot, and part of my mind notes that it’s a left hand, missing the thumb at the base. Wonder if we found the thumb? I shut that line of thought off with a slow shudder. “Max, Company wants me to keep this quiet, but I’m not sure. I think… shit, I don’t know what I think.” I wince, noticing the ongoing headache I’ve had since the guy’s roommate burst into my office a few hours ago, screaming. I had to smack him down to get any words out of him. Then I almost tossed my lunch in the crime scene, something frowned upon in the law enforcement community. “I wanted to ask you about it, but on the Q.T.” “Noticed the privacy filters. Fine by me; Company bastards watch us too much anyways. Let me talk with someone, and I’ll get back with you. This reminds me of something…” Max’s clear gray eyes look
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