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- Misty jumped when a building collapsed onto itself, becoming a ruin. The smell of decay lingered around the place. What was once a mighty city stumbled into a ruin, ruled by rats and crows. The pale moonlight made everything looked more unhealthy than usual.
She scanned the place with her detecting device. "No signs of humanity" Misty said to the communicator.
"Keep going," The voice from the other side responded.
Misty wondered whether there was any true need to continue the hopeless search of the remaining humanity. Perhaps they should give up and proclaimed the poisoned Earth as hopeless. But she suspected that like her, her companions still cling to the view that they can find more people.
Not that it was meaningful. The humanity lost its fertility long before the depopulation. They're just breathing their last breath -----
What was the sound?
Misty turned to the direction of sound and proceeded cautiously. The sound was strange but familiar, and one that shouldn't be heard-----
"Stand down," a red long haired woman stood before her with a -----Misty couldn't believe her eyes. Was it..... No, it must be a doll, there could be no mistake----- with her right hand on the hilt of a katana.
Misty raised her hands to show that she was at peace, and asked, "Who're you?"
"I think I'm the one who should ask question," the woman said.
"Misty Knight, NYPD, or what should be."
"An American?"
"Right, If it still existed. Can you answer my question now that you see I'm totally harmless?"
The woman glared at her, as if wanting to make a decision. Then she turned her head to a sound dreaded by Misty and clearly the woman, as she tensed----- The robots were coming.
"Fight first, talk later," The woman said, taking out her katana.
Misty reached into her thigh holster and took out her gun. "Later," she agreed. Then they joined the fight against the coming enemy.
- "I think we're facing a serial killer here," ," Misty said to her partner, and sighed "I hate this kind of cases. Give me a murder of passion that can be solved as soon as you get in the apartment any day."
"Who won't?" her partner answered and nudged her shoulder, "Look, she must be the BAU person the boss's talking about."
Misty looked up and saw that a red long-haired woman with almond shaped eyes walked in. She was attractive enough to be a model and walked with confidence.
"Hell, I'm Dr. Wing, Colleen Wing from FBI BAU. I'll be here to assist you on this case." The woman walked to Misty and stretched out a hand
"Detective Misty Knight, NYPD." Misty shook her hand. Dr Wing's grip was warm and firm. Then she released her hand.
"The unsub 's really neat, with the way of murder and the trademark tattoo," Dr Wing said.
"I don't think 'neat' 's a professional term," Misty commented dryly, "The killer obviously have a lot of free time on hand. We 've narrowed down our range of suspects to those working in tattoo shops or have access to relevant training. His skill's good."
"Sometimes we speak in human language too, but perhaps we can discuss further at another place," Dr Wing said.
"We can talk back at the Precinct. I hope you can make yourself useful."
"Is it a challenge?"
"No, it's just an observation. Now, do you come in your car?"
"No, I don't. I'm told that only the fools drove a car in Manhattan."
"Then you can come with us in the patrol car. Now let's go."
- "Be quick!" Colleen shouted at Misty, who's concentrated on driving the car.
"I'm doing the best I can. What do you think I'm doing?" Misty said, with a temper.
Colleen supposed that Misty was speaking the truth. But with the vampire zombies chasing after the car, she guess Misty had to excuse her for not exactly in the best condition.
Colleen sighed. You would have thought you saw everything in New York, then this. This morning she got up with the television saying that there was an incident in Manhattan, with show abruptly cut off by a scream of the reporter reporting outside. She went to the street and discovered that "the incident" was really not enough to describe the situation. A horde of decaying skeleton with really sharp teeth were pursuing people, with one biting into a screaming man's neck.
She cut down one vampire zombie into half with her katana, and parried another's attack. But the zombies were really hard to kill. One headless and armless skeleton picked up itself from the ground and continued charging. Times wasn't on her side, and she saw that the bitten man grew the same sharp teeth and joined the horde. She wasn't afraid to die, but an undead existence of monsters beyond death wasn't her style.
"Come in!" A car knocked through the horde and the door opened to her. Colleen immediately got into it and slammed the car door shut. The car started immediately. With the rear mirror, she could see the crashed zombies stood up again and ran after them.
"Thank you for saving me," Colleen said.
The car driver didn't turn her head away. "No thanks, my duty."
"I'm Colleen. How should I call you?"
"Misty, Misty Knight."
After driving for awhile, Colleen asked, "Do you have a destination in mind?"
"Getting out of Manhattan as soon as as possible. I think we'll be safer out of the city."
Colleen agreed. She saw the movie. Even if they managed to be alive after holing up in the city, the military would probably come to bomb the city. Hard to survive that. "I still couldn't believe that we've a vampire zombie attack."
"Ten to one bet you that it's the government's fault."
"I won't take the bet."
"What do you do when you're not driving away from zombies?"
"I'm a cop. Probably Was now. The police station's one of the location to be hit first."
"I'm sorry to hear that."
"Don't. It's not your fault."
Colleen looked at the rear mirror and saw that the horde of zombies were still very insistent. The car would run out of fuel eventually and she closed her eyes, getting the rest for probably her last fight.
- Colleen was working on her paper when the sound of music transmitted to her room. The voice was deep enough, the bass eloquent and the drum was all right. But where's the guitar?
Curiosity piqued her. She went out of the room and knocked the door. The music stopped and a hot Black girl about her age opened the door. "Do we disturb you?" she asked.
"No, your music's quite good. I'm just curious why you don't seem to have a guitarist."
"He quit."
"It's a pity. Are you practicing?"
"We're about to enter a contest," a male voice said. Colleen recognized it as that of the lead singer.
"Perhaps I can help. I play guitar, and I'll say not too bad."
"Really? Then we may have hope after all!" The white drummer said.
"Are you sure?" the girl asked
"I can play something," Colleen said. She headed back to her room, took her guitar, sat down, strike several chords and play. Only then she realized that it might to too odd to insert herself into a group of strangers. But the girl looked at her and smiled. Colleen blushed a bit and started playing.
Music came easy to her and her fingers naturally went for the chord that harmonized with each other and melody formed. After an awhile she was woken up out of the music by hands clasping.
"You did a great job," the girl said, "Will you join us?"
Colleen thought of the paper, then decided that it was the a chance once in a lifetime. Besides, it was at most just several hours of playing.
She was wrong about that. But after years of gig and concerts, Colleen found that she didn't regret the choice, as she looked into Misty's eyes and shared a smile with her.
- Colleen walked into the Ripley's Bar, admiring the art nouveau decoration. She sat down opposite the bar, and asked for a beer. Her eyes scanning the environment and looked for people holding a briefcase. Right to her was a white man in a suit who awkwardly flirted with her and never let go of his briefcase. It seemed to be the one which she looked for . But no, at the corner there was a man with an dangerous aura holding the same briefcase. On the other side there was a young man who seemed to be enthusiastically preaching to another annoyed patron, holding the same briefcase. Right to her there was a Black woman with big curvy hair who was holding an identical briefcase. Colleen frowned. Why do so many people have the same briefcase at the same place? It couldn't be a coincidence, but who was her contact?
Once again she blamed her superior, who gave way so little information for tonight's business. She was required to obtain a special suitcase, but she asked for description of the contact, she was denied, with her superior citing security as a reason. She resorted to speaking with the man who seemed to be hitting on her, trying to get him to hand over the case. But his hands seemed stuck to it. Was he the wrong person? But he kept hinting that there was valuables inside the case. Was it a hint?
She decided to try the woman sitting right to her and said, "Do you need a refill of the drink?"
"I would like to," the woman said.
Colleen said to the bartender, "Give her one more of she's previously drinking, on my tab." She turned to the woman and said, "I'm Colleen. Are you a tourist too?"
"My name's Misty. No, I'm a local. I just love the atmosphere. Do you enjoy here so far?" Misty said with a lazy smile, and gave her a slow look-over.
It was definitely interesting, Colleen thought, who said you couldn't mix business with pleasure?
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