“The vial, please.”
Andrew Blake held the tiny glass ampoule out in his hand for the supervising officer, Tyler Yvonne. She carefully plucked it from his palm, the thick, dark red blood sample contained within sloshing around as she brought it up to her eyes for a closer look.
“This is the one?”
“Yes. He and two others. Johnathon’s getting theirs from the vault now. Should be here soon,” Andrew replied.
“Good. I’d like to get this over with, sooner rather than later.”
Tyler moved over to the machine. It filled the entire wall of the Southwest Police Precinct basement level, looking like a supercomputer with some unusual, outwardly protruding additions. Chutes, tubes, dozens of lights of every colour conceivable, and a screen with a digital replica of the precinct’s badge emblem rotating in the centre.
“How does it work? I’ve never actually seen it in use before.” Andrew moved closer to Tyler, standing beside her before the machine.
“Do I look like I know how the hell this thing works? I just put what the chief tells me to put into it. Don’t ask again, he’s been super touchy about the subject as of late.”
“Alright, if you say so.”
Tyler broke off the blood vial’s seal and, after taking a slow, deep breath, poured its contents into a small compartment underneath the screen.
The on-screen badge disappeared and was replaced almost instantly with a profile picture of a short, angry looking male, alongside a laundry list of information. Given name, age, place of birth, current address, and, most importantly, crimes.
It was one of the longest lists Tyler had seen since they started using this machine to deal with suspects.
And, on the same token, one of the most deserving of what was coming to him.
On the bottom of the screen, several options appeared for the individual named Gus Ramoe.
SHUTDOWN, followed by several sub-options including KIDNEYS, LIVER, BRAIN and HEART.
Last of all, on the far right of the screen, in the smallest possible text: EXECUTE.
“Well, newbie’s choice,” Tyler said as she pulled a small remote control from her uniform pocket. “Whaddya think?”
Andrew closed his eyes. His right hand slowly curled into a ball, shaking in anger. Or was it sorrow? Tyler couldn’t tell.
“You should have seen that house. What those men did to that family. I’ve never seen so much blood.”
After a moment of no response, Tyler shrugged. “Alright, execute it is. Again.”
She pointed her remote at the tiny button on the far right and hit CONFIRM.
Somewhere else in the city, next to the other two suspects in an abandoned home, Gus Ramoe’s entire body froze, and in a single, terrifying instant, he keeled over, sweating blood, not much longer for this world.
His accomplices scattered in a panic, running for their lives. It wouldn’t save them.
“Where the hell is Johnathon with those other vials?” Tyler groaned. “We’re going to be late for lunch.”