Judge Dredd: Year Two

by Michael Carroll

  Montag shouted to him, “Dredd, I can walk!”

  “Not as fast as I can run! Keep your Lawgiver ready: shoot anyone who’s a direct threat!”

  They overtook O’Donnell and the old man. Over the howl of the wind, Dredd heard the deputy yelling something to him, but he figured this wasn’t the time to stop for clarification.

  They rounded a corner and, ahead of them, saw the last of the townsfolk hurrying into the mine. Travis Crow was standing guard at the entrance.

  Dredd skidded to a stop, lowered Montag next to him. “Get inside, Montag!” Dredd yelled. “Travis, change of plan—let the Earthers in!”

  Travis stared at him for a second. “What? It sounded like you said—”

  “Let them in—but take their weapons!”

  “Dredd, they came here to kill us!”

  “Not all of them. Most are just fleeing the storm.” Dredd stepped back, suddenly noticing how the howling wind had fallen. “It’s over...”

  Travis shook his head. “No, it’s not. We’re in the eye of the storm now... It’s going to pick back up in a few seconds, and it’ll be just as bad!” Then Dredd saw the remaining colour drain from the man’s face. “Oh, crap. It’ll be worse!”

  Dredd turned to look.

  Overhead, to the east, a dark cloud was fast approaching. As they watched, the cloud began to break up, and Dredd realised what he was seeing.

  The storm had reached the death-belt, and was pulling the floating debris into its wake.

  A boulder the size of a family skimmer was ripped away from the death-belt, and began to plummet toward the town.

  Then a second, and a third.

  The first boulder slammed into the ground in the path of a swarm of panic-filled Earthers. Those at the head of the pack stopped, but those behind kept coming, rushing past the leaders, swamping them.

  The second and third boulders crushed Alfonsa Hanenberger’s house. A fourth crashed into the base of the watchtower.

  A pair of Earthers—two desperate, terrified women—reached the mine and slowed to a stop, staring at the Judges and Travis, clearly unsure whether their best option was to try to get inside the mine or keep running.

  “Get in!” Dredd shouted. “Now!”

  A fresh wind surged along the shattered street as O’Donnell, still carrying the old man, emerged from one of the side-streets. The deputy shielded his eyes from the sand with his free arm, and as Dredd watched, O’Donnell’s shirt turned to red-soaked shreds. He slowed, began to stagger.

  Montag darted out into the street, ducked at the last second to avoid a flying length of timber thicker than her leg, and caught up with O’Donnell. She pulled the old man from his shoulder, and between them they carried him back across the street to the mine entrance.

  As Travis and Dredd took hold of the old man, O’Donnell collapsed to his knees, gasping for breath.

  Three of the townsfolk emerged from the tunnel, and Dredd recognised them as the people Montag had rescued from the lightning-blasted house.

  The old man looked up at them and muttered, “Left me behind...”

  “Sorry, Pa. We...”

  “Yer all outta the will! I’m leavin’ everythin’ to the deputy here.”

  Dredd said, “Carry him inside. Move!” He reached down and grabbed hold of O’Donnell’s left arm, and helped him to his feet. “You gonna live?”

  The deputy grinned. The left side of his face had been blasted raw, and he spat a mouthful of blood and sand onto the ground. “Right arm’s useless. I can barely see, not sure I can walk too far... I’ve had better days.”

  “You’ve done your part, O’Donnell. Go on, get inside.”

  Dredd turned back to the entrance. On the street, more and more Earthers were approaching. Filthy, caked in sweat-soaked dust, covered with lacerations and bruises, they came stumbling, staggering. Some helping each other, some trampling their colleagues.

  The wind began to pick up once more, and Dredd screamed, “Inside! All of you! Into the mine!”

  He looked at Travis and Montag. “You too.”

  Another death-belt boulder, this one larger than a train-carriage, came tumbling out of the sky. It ploughed into the Brazen Hussy and kept rolling, crushing a dozen desperate Earthers.

  “Move!” Montag shouted at a hesitant young man. She snatched the crossbow out of his hands and tossed it away. “Get in!”

  The ground shook as four more massive rocks crashed down from the death-belt overhead, the powerful winds pulling them free of the gravitational anomaly that had kept them aloft for years.

  Dredd shouted to Montag and Travis: “Inside, both of you! You’ve done enough!” He pushed them into the crowd of Earthers clumsily filing in through the mine entrance.

  There were more of them coming, from all directions, across what remained of the town, but most of them weren’t going to make it. There was nothing more Dredd could do for them.

  As he was about to enter the mine himself, he heard a familiar voice coming from the direction of the plaza. He turned to see Ishmael Stinnett, the preacher, awkwardly running toward him.

  And then the preacher stopped, as though he knew what was coming next. Later, Dredd wondered if perhaps the old man had a touch of his brother’s psi-abilities.

  A boulder the size of a truck slammed into the ground a few metres in front of him. If he hadn’t stopped, he’d have been crushed.

  The preacher darted around the boulder, and—yelling something about “a miracle from blessed Grud and all his perky little angels!”—raced toward Dredd.

  A sudden, powerful gale whipped along the street, picked up a pair of shotgun-wielding Earthers, and bowled them straight into the preacher. All three tumbled in a tangled mass along the street before a cross-wind hit them, lifted them instantly into the air, scattered them across the town.

  Dredd looked back toward the south. More Earthers coming, though fewer than before.

  Overhead, something other than thunder rumbled, and Dredd looked up to see the death-belt disgorging its entire contents, like giant marbles spilling from an invisible tray, directly above the town.

  He grabbed hold of two last Earthers—a woman of about his own age, and a ten-year-old girl—and dragged them in through the tunnel entrance.

  “Move!” Dredd yelled at the people ahead of him. “Keep it steady, don’t rush... But drokkin’ move!”

  The entire tunnel shook, a string of tremors powerful enough that even Dredd was knocked off his feet, then everything went dark.

  Sixteen

  DREDD SWITCHED ON his flashlight and looked around. The air was thick with dust, but there was no immediate sign of a cave-in.

  There was also a lot of crying and screaming from elsewhere in the mine. He started to move on, but felt resistance and looked down to find the ten-year-old girl clinging onto his leg.

  He reached down and lifted her to her feet. He could feel her entire body trembling. “Are you hurt?”

  She sniffed. “N-no!”

  “Then there’s no need to cry, is there? We’re safe now.” To the woman he’d dragged in with her, he said, “You her mother?”

  “Her aunt. I’m the only family she has left. Grud bless you, Judge! I didn’t think we were—”

  “That’s okay,” Dredd said. He patted the little girl on the head: he’d seen people do that to children to comfort them. He straightened up and shouted, “Everyone! Check the people next to you for major injuries! Call out if you find anything, otherwise shut the hell up!”

  For a few seconds, silence filled the tunnel, then one-by-one people started to call out: “Broken leg here!” “This man’s not breathing!” “There’s a lot of blood!”

  Again, Dredd yelled: “Anyone with medical training, make yourself known to the people around you! Treat life-threatening injuries first. Everyone else, stay put. I’m going to make my way along the tunnel. If you’re not one of my people and you’re carrying a weapon, you’ll hand it over to me. Anyone got a proble
m with that?”

  By the time Dredd reached Montag and Travis, his arms were laden with almost too many guns, knives, crossbows and swords to carry. He dumped them into Travis’s arms. “You two have a new job. Follow me to the central cavern and gather all the weapons you can. Looks like there’s going to be a lot more than this. You’ll figure out a way to carry them. Any other townsfolk you recognise, recruit them to help.”

  Montag looked at the pile of weapons. “If we unload the guns we can leave them behind and just carry the ammo.”

  “Good thinking,” Dredd told her. “Someone here will have a backpack. Anyone doesn’t feel like handing their weapons over, threaten to shoot them. If they don’t take you seriously, make good on the threat. A leg-shot ought to encourage them to comply. Any word from Ramini?”

  “Not yet.”

  Dredd started to move on. “I’ll find her.”

  A few metres down the line, a sixty-year-old woman grabbed his arm as he passed. “May the blessings of Grud and all his saints be on you, Judge!”

  “Thank you,” Dredd said.

  The woman didn’t let go. She pulled a medallion from around her neck and pressed it into his hand. “This will keep you safe!”

  He looked down at the obviously home-made medallion and resisted the urge to ask, “How? Is it bullet-proof?” Instead, he passed it back to her. “Judges are forbidden to accept gifts, ma’am, but again, thank you.”

  The lights overhead flickered on, eliciting a roaring cheer that echoed throughout the mine.

  By the time Dredd reached the central cavern, he’d been offered five more sacred relics, had his hand shaken two dozen times, turned down eight offers of marriage, and declined to kiss three babies and one dog.

  He found Brian O’Donnell on the wooden platform close to the entrance tunnel.

  The deputy was cradling his injured right arm as he leaned over the guard-rail, peering down. He grinned at Dredd, then nodded toward the rest of the cavern. “Take a look.”

  Dredd looked. Every walkway and gantry was crammed with people, most huddled together.

  “Been trying to count them...” O’Donnell said. “Figure there’s over a thousand. Could be a lot more in the other tunnels. You made the right call, Dredd. Most of the Earthers were only trying to get to safety.”

  “You able to keep going a little longer, O’Donnell? We’ve no idea how long we’ll be trapped in here, so we need to start taking stock of food and water, figure out a way to ration it.”

  The deputy nodded. “I can do that.” He pointed down over the rail. “Judge Ramini is down there, with Hanenberger.”

  “Got it. You need help, let me know.”

  “Will do. Hey, you got a name other than Dredd?”

  “Joe.”

  O’Donnell tried to offer his wounded right hand and winced. “Have to be the left for now...” He grabbed Dredd’s hand and shook it firmly. “Good to know you, Joe.”

  WHEN THE STORM had finally dissipated, Judge Gillen had ordered her squadron of shuttles and H-Wagons to move in on Ezekiel, and then the first report came back from the advance scouts: “Grud... Nothing but rubble and bodies out here.”

  “Any sign of Dredd in the town?”

  “Judge, there’s no sign of the town.”

  She had ordered a complete sweep and scan of the region, and could do nothing else but sit back and wait.

  Now, she left her shuttle and walked alone through the devastation.

  There was barely one brick still resting on another. Anything that hadn’t been destroyed by lightning or sand-blasted out of existence by the storm had been crushed by the rocks from the death-belt, many of which had pulverised on impact.

  She’d ordered the Judges to spread out on foot, but held no hopes of finding anyone alive.

  Her radio beeped. “Gillen here.”

  “Judge, we’ve got an incoming craft. Adrian Hanenberger.”

  “Remind me?”

  “Head of the Hanenberger clan. His daughter was in charge of this town.”

  “Okay. I’ll meet him at the...” She looked around. There were no recognisable landmarks. “Just tell him to set down somewhere. I’ll make my way to him.”

  A minute later a sleek shuttle landed on what had once been a rudimentary road. Its hatch was opening as Gillen reached it, and a squat, well-dressed eighty-year-old man tentatively stepped out. He paused for a moment, then looked back at the pilot. “You’re certain that this is the right place?”

  “Yes, sir, Mister Hanenberger.”

  “Huh. All right, then.” He turned to face Gillen. “And you are?”

  “Judge Gillen.”

  “Are you a real Judge? What’s with the different uniform?”

  Gillen didn’t feel like explaining herself. “What’s your business here, citizen?”

  He glowered at her. “You will address me as Mister Hanenberger, young lady, if you know what’s good for you.”

  Gillen relaxed a little, relieved to be in familiar territory. “Threatening a Judge. Six months.”

  Hanenberger scoffed. “Nonsense. Where’s my daughter?”

  “We haven’t found anyone alive yet.”

  “She’ll have taken refuge in the mine, I expect.” The old man looked around. “Where is it?”

  Gillen shrugged. “Not a clue.”

  Hanenberger sighed, and turned back to the shuttle. “James, get the full survey team out here pronto, and our top three—no, make it top five—excavation crews. Order our satellites to scan the area, search for any signs of life. There could be others trapped, too. We’ll establish a disaster relief area to the east, full medical teams. Set up a refugee camp next to it. Tents, beds, emergency supplies. Call in the heavy machinery to start clearing a path through to the city.” He turned back to Gillen. “Does the Justice Department have any problems with that?”

  “No.”

  “Then let’s find our people.”

  ALFONSA HANENBERGER HAD refused to speak to Dredd—or anyone else—until the first shouts started to come back from the entrance tunnel: “There’s something moving outside! I can hear machinery!”

  “Looks like our rescue team is here,” Dredd told her.

  He estimated that they’d been trapped for almost an entire day. During that time, countless wounds had been crudely patched, bones had been splinted, and supplies carefully rationed.

  There had been thirteen separate fights, one heart-attack, and seven aborted attempts to start a cheerful sing-along.

  Now, Hanenberger looked up at Dredd and spoke, “You have no power over me, you know that? Nothing I’ve done is illegal.” She smiled. “I own this town and I make the rules. Even you can’t argue with that.”

  Dredd nodded. “Agreed.”

  “So once the rescuers break through, I’m free to go.”

  “Neither myself, Ramini, nor Montag are legally entitled to stop you.”

  “Good. That’s what true power is, Judge. In the city, you Judges think that you’re in control, but you’re sheepdogs at best. You’re able to herd the people because they’re scared of you, but you don’t truly own them.”

  “We don’t want to own them.”

  “Of course you do. You’re fascists. You want all the power, and Grud help anyone who stands up to you.”

  “Two things, Hanenberger. Everyone here knows that you were willing to let them die. I might not be in a position to prosecute you, but you’ll find that the inhabitants of the Cursed Earth are not bound by any laws. Even in this blighted land it won’t be hard to find a dead tree and a few metres of rope. And, second, we know about the new seams,” Dredd said.

  The woman froze. “What?”

  Dredd glanced down over the platform’s guard-rail. “On your most recent survey your geologist discovered a huge, untouched seam of iridium that should yield at least as much ore again as the mine has already given. You’ve hidden this from everyone, including your own family. You’ve told them that this mine is played out.”
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  Hanenberger dry-swallowed. “No one knows... How can you possibly know that?”

  “An old man came to the town, just ahead of the storm,” Dredd said. “Abraham Stinnett. You know his brother Ishmael, the preacher. Abraham is a telepath. Judge Ramini figured you were hiding something, so she asked Stinnett to scan your mind as you slept. You had the geologist killed, along with anyone else who knew about the new seam. You’ve also bought a plot of worthless land forty kilometres west of here, where you intend to set up a fake mine. You plan to take the ore from here and secretly transport it to the new mine.”

  Her hand trembling, the woman wiped at her mouth. “This is still my land. Everything on it—and under it—belongs to me. Everything!”

  “Actually, it’s your family’s land. You intend to steal from them. And since the ore is the object of a planned crime, I’m confiscating all of it.”

  “You can’t!”

  Dredd leaned closer. “Stop me.”

  Seventeen

  TWO HOURS PASSED before the rescue teams were able to break through to the mine, and it was a further hour before Judge Dredd escorted Alfonsa Hanenberger, the last of the survivors, to the surface.

  Her father had been waiting for her, and broke into a grin. “Last one out! Of course you are. A true Hanenberger is like a captain, last to desert the sinking ship!”

  Dredd said, “Seems self-delusion is hereditary.”

  The old man turned to him. “Explain yourself.”

  “Your daughter’s arms bear a number of bruises where I had to physically restrain her from scrambling over the others in order to be the first out.”

  “How dare you! I’ll have your badge for this!”

  Dredd took a step closer to him. “Your daughter is a mutant, and therefore by law is denied entry to Mega-City One. The fact that she has apparently somehow circumvented this law on multiple occasions will be the subject of a full investigation. If you are found to have any complicity in that crime, you will be prosecuted.”

  The man jabbed at Dredd’s chest with his index finger. “Don’t you threaten me, boy! Don’t you know who I am?”