The scene that greeted Barry and Katrina as they arrived, following the sound of gunfire, was chaos: narrow, claustrophobic streets, vivid red blood, panicked screams, silent bodies, frightened citizens, and cars fleeing hurriedly.
"This looks like a gang shootout among students," Katrina observed, examining a young man with dark skin, his body stained with blood yet oddly shiny.
Barry looked at her, puzzled by her certainty.
"This area is near the reception college, which enrolls young offenders and troubled teens. Gang problems are rampant here, with various racial groups forming gangs for protection," Katrina explained. "And the electronic shackles on his ankles and wrists confirm it."
Barry noticed the black electronic shackle on the deceased's ankle, likely used for tracking.
"Let's chase them!" Katrina decided, scanning her surroundings briefly before heading back to the police car to pursue the fleeing vehicle.
Barry followed, sensing Katrina's lack of urgency about the incident.
Just as Katrina started the car, a message crackled over the radio.
"Attention: Armed fugitive criminals on Second Avenue and West Ninth Street in Queens. Wanted criminal level: Class A. Patrol officers near Ninth Street, be alert."
---
The engine roared as Katrina floored the accelerator, the car leaping forward like an unleashed stallion. But not in the direction the fleeing vehicle had taken.
Barry felt the force push him back into his seat, glancing at Katrina, who was now focused and serious.
As Katrina navigated with one hand, she checked her phone for the wanted notice and location updates. The wanted poster showed a white young man with long, curly blond hair, sunken cheeks, a pale face, and fierce eyes. A black cross tattoo adorned his neck. The reward was $300,000, and his charges included homicide, drug trafficking, and gang violence.
The location pointed to an area near the shelter on Ninth Street.
"Hold on, Barry. Hope you don't get motion sick," Katrina said, stowing her phone and shifting gears.
The engine's familiar roar returned as Barry watched the world blur past, gripping the door handle tightly.
He glanced at the speedometer: they were doing eighty.
Watching the vehicles flashing by, he almost uttered a curse.
Are you playing Fast and Furious? Despite his thick skin and resilience, he felt the potential aftermath of an accident wouldn't be pleasant.
---
Dangerous as it was, the ride was quick. Within minutes, Katrina had them at their destination, safely despite the speed.
Stepping out, Barry felt a moment of doubt about his vow of silence.
The low-rise area contrasted sharply with the bustling city beyond. It resembled a community prison more than a neighborhood, with few pedestrians and the occasional gang member.
"The suspect vanished here. Be cautious as we search," Katrina instructed, comparing the phone's location map to the street signs.
Barry tapped Katrina to get her attention, gesturing to his skateboard and then himself, indicating he could scout from above.
"That's too conspicuous," Katrina shook her head. "It's fine on open streets, but here it's impractical."
Barry considered his options, noticing a scruffy, skinny black dog nearby. His eyes lit up, and he approached.
The dog barked warily, retreating.
"Barry, what are you doing?" Katrina frowned, catching up.
Barry barked softly, calming the dog, then gestured to Katrina for her phone.
He realized he needed to ask George for a phone, or he'd keep borrowing hers.
Seeing the once-wary dog wagging its tail, Katrina was surprised and handed Barry her phone.
"You want the phone? Were you just talking to it?" she asked incredulously.
Barry nodded. Not speaking was tiring, but avoiding the complications of talking was worth it.
"Amazing you can communicate with other species," Katrina marveled, letting him use her phone.
Barry switched the screen to the wanted poster.
"Hey, have you seen this man?" Barry asked the dog.
"He killed my companions. I barely escaped," the dog responded.
"That's terrible. Can you take me to him? I can avenge your friends and offer you food. I might even find you a job in human society, with food and shelter. It could be a bit dangerous," Barry offered.
The dog, likely skilled at avoiding animal control, could make a good police dog.
"No, he'll kill me," the dog replied, terrified.
"I'll protect you. Don't you want a stable life? You're always on the run. If caught, you might end up as someone's meal," Barry warned.
The dog's fear lessened, showing interest.
"Just lead us. This human here will handle the rest," Barry assured, pointing to Katrina.
"He might not be there anymore," the dog hesitated.
"Doesn't matter. Just take us," Barry insisted.
After convincing the dog, Barry returned Katrina's phone and followed the dog into an alley.
Katrina, eyebrows raised in surprise, pocketed her phone and followed him.