The Harbinger
11 - Moving Closer….
“Someone really messed her up.”
They looked down at the body of a young woman lying on the sandy path that led toward the Engelbecken — right next to the bridge where cars thundered overhead.
The Green environmental party had introduced 30-km/h speed zones, but no one seemed to care. The goal was a massive state restriction of private traffic in order to reverse climate change. At least that was the official version.
People in the neighborhood felt increasingly boxed in. Living standards kept falling, costs kept rising, and both the United States and the People’s Republic of China had long since abandoned the guidelines of the great thinkers.
Political principles always followed economic realities.
Once again the Germans had marched in the wrong direction, and people were slowly beginning to feel the consequences.
There was no money left in schools for their children. Government subsidies flowed everywhere, yet somehow never arrived where they were actually needed.
Central planning.
More and more bureaucrats pulling the levers seemed to be wearing blindfolds.
The young woman’s skull had been crushed. Her face destroyed beyond recognition.
What had once been a head rested in the sand like a ruin of bone and blood. Most of the blood had already dried. The smell made bile rise in your throat.
The two paramedics had been the first to arrive, and slowly a small crowd of onlookers began gathering around the scene.
“When are the guys from the police finally getting here to seal this place off? Why is it taking so long?”
His colleague was visibly shaken by the sight. They had seen plenty of things before, but this felt different. Like a message. A dark prophecy.
Violence in this area had steadily increased over the past few years. The media and politicians always played the incidents down with numbers and statistics.
“That’s just how it is in a big city,” the mayor from the Green environmental party had explained on local television.
Capitalism would inevitably produce more and more victims, she said. And if the beast wasn’t finally put in chains, there was nothing she could do about it. What was needed was change — from above.
Then she had adjusted her glasses, glanced symbolically at her watch, and apologized with a rehearsed smile that she had another appointment to attend.
“If this is a crime scene, these people shouldn’t be getting any closer. What a damn mess.”
“Okay. I’ll keep an eye on the crowd. You do your job with the woman.”
“My job? What the hell am I supposed to do here?” He ran a hand through his hair and couldn’t take his eyes off the motionless body.
“That’s not the point right now, man. Try to resuscitate her… give medical treatment. At least make it look like you’re doing something so nobody starts trampling through the crime scene.”
“Are you kidding me? It’s not my problem the police still aren’t here. This place should’ve been sealed off already! I’m so sick of this shit.”
The ambulance driver had gotten out by now, joined them, and was drinking an energy drink.
“Hey, we don’t even know yet if this is a crime scene, okay? Brandenburg’s got wolves again. Dangerous ones. Who knows what happened here…” he said with a shrug.
“How long has the body been lying here out in the open? I mean, to me it looks like this happened sometime last night… or maybe early this morning. It’s late afternoon now, and the call only came in…”
He glanced at his watch.
“What was it exactly? Twenty minutes? Thirty? We got stuck in traffic for a bit, but it can’t have been much longer than that.”
His gaze drifted across the crowd. A few figures were already shuffling over from the tent camp. Just what they needed.
You had to grow thick skin in this job. They told you that during training.
When you arrive at an accident scene, it will get to you. But you’re there to help the injured. You’re doing something good. From now on, though, your everyday life will be filled with the sight of people in pain, suffering, staring death straight in the face.
And that’s exactly how it had turned out.
No matter what tricks he tried in his head, no matter what he told himself — it never really left him cold. Of course he did his job. Often like a machine. There was no other way.
Now he looked at the people standing around them.
And one thing struck him.
Not a single face in the crowd showed anything resembling compassion. Or shock.
Not one.
How much longer could he keep doing this job?
He grabbed his equipment and walked over to the young woman with the smashed skull, kneeling down beside her.
It was pointless, but he pretended to check her pulse. That at least seemed to keep the crowd at a distance.
No one looked disturbed.
She was dressed in sports clothes. Probably jogging. Or power-walking.
In his mind he saw a woman running along the artificial pond at sunrise.
What had happened here?
