-Robert “Bo” Church-
I gasp for air as I quickly sit up in bed. The room is pitch-black around me. I can feel the sweat running down my face. A drop of sweat falls from my chin and strikes my hand. It feels cold. My eyes are wide and I stare off into the darkness.
Liz stirs next to me. She slowly sits up. She turns on the bedside lamp and turns towards me. Even in the sudden bright light my eyes are still open as wide as they can go. I continue to stare blankly at far wall.
“What’s wrong, baby?”
I don’t respond at first. I try to remember the dream. I can’t. I Run my hands through my hair and shake my head, trying to remove the cobwebs. I exhale heavily and turn to Liz. She looks dumbfounded. I manage an innocent smile.
“Sorry, Liz. Bad dream.”
“You wanna talk about it?”
“No. I don’t even remember what it was about.”
“Hmm…Well, try to get back to sleep, okay?”
“Sure thing.”
She turns off the lamp and lies back down. I stay sitting up for a few minutes, still trying to remember the dream. Nightmare would be a better term. I slowly creep back under the covers and lay down.
I don’t sleep for the rest of the night.
Almost two hours before my alarm would go off I am down in the kitchen making a pot of coffee. I stand in front of the coffee machine like a zombie, half asleep and unaware of what exactly it is that I’m doing. The bell rings and I grab the coffee pot. As I pour, almost all of the coffee goes on the counter and about a third of my mug is filled.
“Shit.”
I set the mug down on the kitchen table while I take half a roll of paper towel to the coffee puddle on the counter. After the coffee is cleaned up I toss the paper towel at the waste basket. It doesn’t go in, but I couldn’t care less. I sit down and drink my teaspoon of coffee.
I finish the coffee and take the mug to the sink. As I rinse it out I look out the window at the Clydesdale parked in the backyard. It looks great in this early morning light. I almost wish that Wayne hadn’t given it to me. It’s teasing me because I want to drive it, but Liz won’t let me. She thinks I’ll “get into trouble.” Me. A cop. Fine by me. Maybe someday she’ll get that necklace that she’s always wanted and I’ll tell her that she can’t wear it.
“Well, someone could steal it, Liz.”
That’d be my justification.
I leave the kitchen and go into the living room, plopping on the couch. I think of the two hours that I still have before I should even be awake. I try to close my eyes. My eyelids fail me and stay pried open by an invisible force. I hate not being able to sleep. It’s the worst hell that any person can go through. Don’t feel sorry for me though. Feel sorry for all of the criminals that have to deal with a cranky cop all day.
I hear Dave coming up from the basement. Must have fallen asleep working again. That or he got up early to work on something. The crazy bastard never sleeps. I don’t know how the hell he’s so cheerful all the damn time. Maybe it’s the kids.
I wonder what it’d be like sometimes. I think I’d make a good dad. It’s not like Liz has never brought it up. In fact, like most women, she never stops talkin’ about it. I wanna have kids too, but I’m worried that I won’t be around to help raise them. Anyway, we have been trying lately, despite my arguments.
“What are ya doin’ up so early for, Bo?”
I tilt my head back and see Dave standing beside the arm of the couch above me.
“Couldn’t sleep.”
Dave pulls my legs off of the couch and plops down next to me.
“Me neither. Mind if I turn on the tube?”
“Be my guest.”
Dave turns on the TV and throws his feet up on the coffee table. He switches the channel from the morning news to old Bugs Bunny cartoons on some cartoon channel that I didn’t even know we had. I wish that I could have held on to my youth as well as Dave did. He truly is a kid at heart. He watches cartoons, plays video games, and eats more candy than any other 34-year-old should. This confuses the hell outta me, because Mary is almost the complete opposite. She’s always watching the news, she hates video games, and she’s a vegetarian. Then again, they do say that opposites attract.
“Why couldn’t you sleep, Bo?”
“Bad dream.”
“Hmm…I had the squirts.”
“Thank you for that much needed information.”
“No prob. Oh! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Damn, that rabbit kills me!”
I turn from my brother to the TV. It’s the “rabbit season, duck season” one again. Dave’s seen it over a dozen times, but it always makes him laugh. There was a time when it made me laugh too, but I can’t remember that far back. I do manage a slight grin as Elmer Fudd shoots Daffy with his shotgun. Half the humor of it is the impossibility of it all.
I have to struggle to my feet as I get up to go to the bathroom. I nearly trip over the damn cat. I hardly see the stupid thing and it never comes when I call, but it’s always there to trip me at my most inconvenient times. I jerk myself stiff to avoid tripping. I straighten myself out and kick the cat about two feet across the floor into the armchair.
I finally make it to the bathroom after stepping on Billy’s skate board in the hall and nearly breaking my back. Dave probably left the damn thing there. Billy’s too young to ride the damn thing anyway. Dave just bought it so he could ride it. He did the same thing with the video games and the girls’ pogo stick.
I finish my business in the bathroom and cautiously walk back into the living room. I look at the clock and see that I still have an hour and a half ‘til I have to get ready. I reclaim my seat beside Dave on the couch. He has a bowl of Happy-O’s in his hands which has more sugar poured over it than there is cereal. He looks over at me and grins, milk running down his chin.
“Cute.”
“What?” He says his mouth still full.
“It’s no wonder Mary never wants to go out to eat with you.”
He swallows and frowns at me.
“Me and Mary go out to eat all the time.”
“That doesn’t mean she likes doing it. I mean, look at yourself. You’re like a child.”
“Your point?”
I shrug and turn to the TV. I really can’t resent his youthful nature. I actually do envy him for it. It’s sad really that most of us grow up and become boring. However, Dad sometimes acts less mature than a teenager and Liz hasn’t really grown up since high school; I know that by the home videos I’ve seen of her. It’s nice to be around youthful, comical people because it makes you less of a prude.
An hour later, I am in the shower. The water is scalding hot, but I don’t notice. The water feels good on my rough, scarred, and calloused skin. I grab the bottle of shampoo and squirt some onto my left hand. I put the bottle down and rub the shampoo in to my hair.
The water pressure starts to falter, as it sometimes does. I don’t realize it at first. When I do, the pressure’s messed up so bad that the water is just splashing me. I stop washing my hair and fiddle with the shower head to try to fix the pressure.
The water splashes my face and dark images cascade into my mind. Flashes of blood splattering on my face. Every time the water splashes my face I see the blood again. I squeeze my eyes shut and the blood becomes clearer in my mind. I open my eyes, but still the water’s splashing conjures up the images of blood.
I slip and fall, banging my head on the side of the tub…
I regain consciousness. I poke my head out of the shower and look through blurred eyes at the bathroom clock. I was only out for a minute or two. I rub the back of my head and slowly stand up.
The water pressure has gone back to normal, but the water is freezing cold. I look at the knobs and see that the hot is turned completely off and the cold is on full blast. I look out of the shower again. The door is still hooked like it was when I came in. I don’t remember turning the cold water on. For that matter, I forget why I even hit my head.
I turn the cold water off and turn the hot back on. I touch my hair and realize that the shampoo is washed out. I don’t remember doing that either. So, I turn the water off completely and step out of the shower.
After I dry myself off, I slip on the pair of boxers I had left on the sink. I wipe off the mirror and look at myself. There is a thin line of blood crawling down my face from the back of my head. For some reason I am smiling at the sight of the blood. I grab a wad of toilet paper and wipe the blood off of my face and the back of my head.
I grab another mirror and look at the back of my head. The wound is nothing serious. Nothing bad enough to keep me from going to work today. I set the mirror down on the sink and walk out of the bathroom.
Liz is still asleep when I walk into the room to grab my uniform. She looks like an angel laying there all covered up in her flannel pajamas. She must be having good dreams because her beautiful, red lips are curled up in a smile. It warms my heart to see her like this. I live for little moments like this.
I turn to the bureau and start to put my clothes on. I probably look like a stiff in the uniform ‘cause I don’t have to wear it, but I think all cops should wear uniforms. I think the uniform stands as a symbol that gives people hope that we’ll keep them safe. Then, ya got cops like Bullock that wear trench coats and fedoras that look like bums and he’s one of the higher ranking officers. Hell, Gordon doesn’t even dress like he should. It’s no wonder crime is so bad in Gotham city: half of the police force is corrupt and the other half no one respects because they look like civilians. I’ll tell ya, I don’t know what’s worse.
Liz stirs across the room just as I begin to tie my tie. I finish tying it and turn to see her sitting up in bed, her eyes squinting in the morning light. I go over to her and give peck on the cheek. She returns it and gives me a hug.
“Be careful out there, okay?”
“I always am.”
“Make sure you make it home tonight. I have something special planned.”
“Hmmm… Crazy, erotic sex?”
“No!”
She punches my arm and laughs. I love making her laugh. Her laugh is amazing.
“Just get home tonight, okay?”
“I promise you, I will be home tonight.”
“Thank you.”
“Bye.”
“Bye.”
“Love you.”
“I love you too, baby.”
I grin and kiss her cheek again. I grab my jacket off of the back of the bedroom door and walk out of the room. I can’t help but wonder what she might be planning. What ever it is she seems to be very serious about it. She’s never told be to be careful before, so she must really want me home tonight.
Once I’m downstairs, I slide on my jacket and grab my hat off of a table in the hallway. I’m putting on my hat as I walk into the living room where Dave is still watching cartoons. I stop for a couple of seconds to watch. It’s the one where the animator keeps changing Daffy Duck and the background. The animator erases Daffy’s body and changes him into some strange-looking creature. Dave laughs hysterically.
“I’m off to work, Dave.”
“Yeah, see ya, Bo.”
“Have a nice day.”
“You too. Oh, and make sure you make it home tonight. Liz’s got somethin’ planned for ya.”
“I know. She just told me. Do you know what she’s planning?”
“I might. I might not. Whose to say if I do or don’t?”
“So, you know, but you can’t tell me?”
“Yeah.”
“See ya later, Dave.”
“Back at ya.”
I chuckle quietly to myself and walk out the door. Well, whatever Liz is planning, everyone else knows about it except me. This is not a good display of my detection skills. I can solve a crime with a few pieces of evidence, but when it comes to my wife I’m stumped. Irony is a bitch.
I reach the police station exactly thirty minutes before I’m to be in to work. I turn off my car and sit there in my parking spot for a minute. Nausea hits me for a second or two and I rest my head on the steering wheel. The wound on the back of my head is burning. I reach back and rub the area.
How did I get the wound again? I knew at the time, but now it’s all so fuzzy. It didn’t hurt at first either, but now it feels like my head is cracking into two. I take my hat off and the pain starts to dull. The elastic must have been squeezing my head. I set the hat in the passenger seat and get out of the car.
I look around the parking lot to see if anyone else has come in. I spot Parker across the lot and I start walking towards him. He sees me and comes my way also. Parker is one of the few good cops left in Gotham. He’s got a wife, kids in college, and he’s been a cop since I was in diapers. He’s the reason I wanted to become a cop. He used to patrol my street when I was a kid and he’d always look out for me when the bullies tried to mess with me.
“Good morning, Church.”
“How ya doin’, Parker?”
“Had a rough night actually. Bernice’s mother dropped in last night. Damn do I hate that woman! She always on my case about my job and how ‘it’s too dangerous for a man that’s got a family’. ‘You never know who you’re gonna piss off’ she says. Every damn time she comes over. You ever get that, Church?”
“Not recently, no. Well, I mean, my mom used to get on me about it, but she’s accepted it.”
“I wish Bernice’s mother could do that. It’s nothin’ but nag, nag, nag all the damn time.”
Parker isn’t that old, but, the way he tells things, you’d think he’s been alive for centuries. His hair has just recently started to turn gray, which is a strong contrast to his black skin, but he’s only in his forties. Parker wears the same thing to work every day: a black shirt, black pants, black loafers, a long, black trench coat, and a brightly-colored novelty tie. The man is walking oxymoron with all that black and those outrageous ties. I don’t like the absence of uniform, but I respect the man.
“Anything new with you today, Church?”
“Not much since we talked yesterday. My wife is planning some sort of surprise for me tonight, but I can’t seem to figure out what it might be.”
“Well, well, well! The great Detective Robert Church, the man who single handedly brought in the Joker, is stumped by his old lady!”
“I didn’t stop Joker by myself.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. You can preach that Batman bullshit to me all you want, but I’ve never seen him and, until I do, I’m not gonna believe a single one of those stories.”
“What, do you think the commissioner shines that signal into the sky for his health?”
“No! Of course not! That thing is for nothing but to keep the crooks scared. Waste of taxpayers’ money if you ask me.”
The nausea hits me again and I wobble. Parker catches it and gives me that fatherly look of his. The “what’s wrong?” look. I look away and stare at the buildings across the street. Parker sighs and shoves his hands into his pockets.
“What’s the matter, Church?”
“It’s nothing. Just a bump on the head. It doesn’t hurt.”
“You sure? You don’t look so good.”
“I’m fine.”
“You don’t have to do this to yourself, Church. Just go home and rest it off. Everyone has their bad days, pal.”
“Thanks, but no thanks.”
I’m tired of listening to his preaching. I turn and walk away. It may be cold of me, but it’s not his place to say what I should do with my life. I sigh heavily and quickly look back, but Parker is already walking around the back of the building. I feel like such an ass. The man wasn’t doing anything wrong. He was just worried about me and I threw it in his face.
I pass Bullock as I go through the doors at the front of the building. He’s smoking a cigar and has a jelly donut in his right hand. He gives a greeting nod and I return it reluctantly. I admire Bullock’s commitment to the force, but he absolutely disgusts me. If I didn’t know him that well I’d think he was a crook himself.
I walk through the foyer back into the building. I walk past the desks of all of the police sergeants, saying good morning to all of those that bother to say the same to me. I reach my office door and unlock it with my key. I look around me before I go in and observe everyone around me. Only a few people at their desks. Everyone else is either pissing their time away in Crime Alley or they’re actually on duty like they should be. I shake my head in disappointment and enter my office.
I hang my jacket on my coat rack and sit down at my desk. I turn on my computer and, as I wait for it to load, I open up the newspaper that has been left of my desk. I open up to the crossword and pull out a pen from my desk drawer. Just as I finish the first word, my computer loads. I type in my password and log in to my account. We have to clock-in by computer, so I clock-in and turn back to my crossword.
I’m almost finished with the crossword when there is a knock on my door. Probably Parker coming in to apologize. He shouldn’t bother; it should be me that’s apologizing. I stand up and am about to go open the door when it opens. Commissioner Gordon pokes his head in; he doesn’t look happy.
“My office. Now.”
I sit in Gordon’s office, waiting for him to come back in. I’ve never really been in here before. Not alone, and certainly not long enough to look around. Now I can see his whole office and I’m getting a better idea of who it is exactly that I’m working for. There are pictures hanging all over the room of the commissioner and various politicians and his daughter and his wife who passed away. There are war medals in a glass frame hanging on the wall and a football trophy behind his desk.
I hear the door open behind me. Gordon walks around where I am sitting and takes a seat at his desk. Another man, who I believe is Dr. Arkham, walks over to Gordon’s desk and stands there. Arkham stares at me blankly, he’s got a broken nose and he’s wearing a cast on his arm. Gordon pinches the bridge of his nose. This can’t be good.
“Do you know why you’re here, Detective?”
“No, sir. Not really.”
“Doctor, if you would please fill in Detective Church on the details of the situation.”
“My pleasure, Commissioner. Do you remember what happened four days ago, Detective?” Arkham asks me.
“Yes, I do. Bruce Wayne hosted the ‘Midnight Policemen’s Ball.’ Joker showed up and blew a damn hole in Wayne’s house, a few people died, Batman kicked Joker’s ass, and almost everyone went home safely. Yeah, I think I remember.”
“Just Batman? You don’t remember your involvement?”
“Oh, right. Yeah, I might have helped a little.”
“Let’s not be modest here, Detective. You, not Batman, or anyone else for that matter, publicly humiliated one of the most feared men in Gotham city, if not the world. Does that mean nothing to you?”
“Not really, no. I did my job.”
“That you did, Detective. Though I hope that you do realize the consequences of your actions.”
“Consequences? Am I in trouble or something? As far as I know, I obeyed the law and did my duty.”
“That may be true, but that man-“
“'Man?’ Why do you keep referring to him as a ‘man?’ Joker is a cold-blooded monster.”
“I stand corrected. However, you must realize that you have painted a target on your own head. You humiliated a complete psychopath. He will stop at nothing to avenge himself.”
“'Psychopath?’ Is that a medical term, Doc?”
“No! It isn’t! Don’t you realize that he’s going to kill you! Stop being so damn sarcastic and take the situation seriously! Joker is going to kill you!”
“Well, Doc, I think I’ll be fine. Joker’s locked safely away in your asylum.”
“What! Gordon, you didn’t tell him!”
“That’s why we’re here. If you don’t mind, Doctor, I think you’ve said enough,” Gordon says, trying to be cool.
“I don’t believe it!”
Dr. Arkham leaves the room, muttering quietly to himself. I grin and look back to Gordon. He isn’t smiling. Well, I thought it was funny. Why did I think it was funny? Why did I make all of those stupid jokes? What the hell is going on inside my head?
“Joker broke out of Arkham last night, Detective.”
“What?”
“I’ve got a team looking for him right now.”
“What good will that do? No one can ever find him!”
“If you want I can have a team cover your home.”
“My home? You think he’ll attack my home!”
“We don’t know what to think. Joker has never been the predictable type.”
“What the hell happened? That son of a bitch was only locked up for three days!”
“We think he had some help…”
Gordon goes on, but I don’t hear him anymore. I can’t really see him anymore either. My vision is blurry and my stomach feels like it’s on fire. The wound on the back of my head hurts like hell. I start to sweat profusely, but my body is freezing cold. For some reason I start to laugh hysterically. I barely see Gordon come around the desk. He grabs me and pulls me out of the room.
The last thing I see is a picture of the Joker that Gordon has dropped on the floor.
I wake up in the hospital. I look all around me, but no one is there. Why am I here? Where is everyone? What the hell happened to me? I look around again and find the call button. I push it and wait for the nurse.
The nurse comes in and walks over to the bed. What did I want? Dammit! I can’t remember! What the hell did I call her in here for? She asks me the same thing, but I can’t remember. Son of bitch! What the hell did I call her for? She starts to walk away when I remember.
“Wait!”
“Yes?”
“What happened to me?”
“Well, Detective, you received a severe concussion.”
“Where am I?”
“The hospital, sir.”
“Right…Where’s my family?”
“Well, the commissioner said that as soon as you were taken care of that he was going to contact them. That was twelve hours ago. Why they’re not here I don’t know.”
“I’m sure they have a good reason.”
“I’m sure they do.”
The nurse leaves and I lay my head back down. A concussion? That doesn’t make sense. My head feels perfectly fine. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever felt better. Maybe I’m just delusional. Yeah, that has to be it. They probably pumped me full of drugs like the damn hospitals always do.
I look out the window. It’s dark outside. I should be out there on patrol. I can’t remember what exactly happened before I blacked out. I know that I was in Gordon’s office and that he had something to tell me. I remember something about football trophies and war medals, but, other than that, I can’t remember anything.
I’m about to fall asleep when Gordon walks into my room. He looks at me through tired eyes and sits in the chair next to my bed. He holds out a cookie and raises his eyebrows. I take it from his hand and smile.
“Thank you, sir.”
“So, what do you remember?”
“Not much. Hey, I’m still wearin’ my uniform.”
“I bet that pleases you. Well, your family sends their best wishes, but they said that you wouldn’t want them here.”
“Oh, that’s right. Why did I ask the nurse where they were?”
“I don’t know. Your wife tried to protest with the rest of the family, but they convinced her to stay there.”
“Ah, she’s a good woman. God, I love her.”
“Now, as for the Joker business…”
Oh shit. I remember. It must be showing on my face because Gordon tries to calm me down.
“Don’t worry, we got him. He tried pulling a robbery at The Gotham Bank. He must not be doing so hot right now. First, he’s done in by you, and then a couple of other cops stop him without any help from Batman at all.”
I don’t like that.
“Batman didn’t help them?”
“No! It’s great isn’t it? Maybe that maniac is finally losing his touch.”
“Batman wasn’t there at all?”
“No. Why?”
“You’re sure it was the Joker?”
“Yes.”
“Were you there?”
“What?”
“Were. You. There?”
“No. No, I wasn’t actually.”
I don’t even think, I just jump out of my bed and run out the door. Gordon tries to stop me, but I throw him off and dash down the hallway. Joker’s clever; those cops probably picked up a decoy. I spot the nearest elevator and run for it as fast as I can. It opens just as I get to it. I knock the people inside out of the way and jump in. I push the button for the first floor and wait for the elevator to go down. I don’t stop pushing the button all of the way down.
The doors open and I run out into the lobby at full speed. I burst through the entrance doors and dash out into the street. I stop and quickly look around. I spot a cab and run towards it. I flash my badge at the driver and the passenger inside. The passenger gets out and I jump in. I quickly give the driver the directions to my house.
“Drive as fast as you want.”
“Yes, sir.”
The driver puts the pedal to the floor and the car flies forward. I roll down the window and stick my arm out, badge in hand. I can’t let anything slow me down. Can’t let this guy get pulled over. I pound on the driver’s seat with my other hand and I bite my lip.
“Can’t you go faster?”
“I could. Would you like cab to stall, eh?”
“No.”
We’re getting closer to my home. God, I hope I’m not too late. God, please, don’t take my family. Please, don’t take away my mother and my father. Don’t take Dave and Mary and their kids away. God, please, don’t take Liz away from me.
The driver stops out front of my house. I jump out and, suddenly, I just slow down. The lights are on inside and I pray that that’s a good thing. The windows aren’t broken and the door is still on its hinges. I slowly walk up the steps. Billy’s skateboard is on the porch; not a thing is wrong with it. I put my hand on the doorknob and turn.
I feel like I’m going to vomit as the doorknob clicks.
I open the door.
I pass out.
-Batman-
This isn’t good. I knew this would happen and it isn’t a pretty sight. I got here not long after Detective Church. Where he is now, I have no clue. However, seeing what I’m seeing now, I can’t blame him for not wanting to be anywhere near here. I put my hand to my mouth. I feel like I’m going to vomit and I haven’t even gone past the family room yet.
There is a man hanging from the ceiling fan. He’s probably just a little over sixty years old; about the age my father would be now. He’s completely naked and he has a smiley face cut into his stomach. There are two cuts on his face, both next to his lips, that make him looking like he’s smiling. The worst part of it all is that his eyes are gouged out and the blood running out of the sockets makes the man look like he’s crying.
I’ve seen Joker do some very disturbing things, but never anything like this. I don’t think anything has ever made me this sick in my life. I can’t let Gordon come in here. He won’t be able to take it if I can’t. I walk over to the front door and close it. I push a desk behind it so that no one can come in.
After my stomach settles, I move on into the kitchen. There is no one in here. I look out the window. No one in the back yard. I open the back door and look out again, just to be sure. No, there is no one out here. I close the door and push the refrigerator behind it.
I leave the kitchen and venture into the hallway. No one in the hall. I check the first room. It’s a children’s room. I walk inside and have a look around. There is nothing at first glance, but the smallest reflection of crimson light catches my eye. There is a small pool of blood coming from underneath one of the beds. I know that it has to be one of the children, so I decide not to look. I leave the room.
I walk across the hall to the other room. I open the door and look inside. What I see I can’t even begin to comprehend. It’s the sickest thing I ever seen. I put my hand to my mouth as the nausea hits me. I pull my hand away and there is vomit on my glove.
There is a young woman on the floor. She’s naked and she’s resting against the wall which is holding her up. There are two ropes tied around her neck. One of the ropes branches off to a pulley and the other branches off in the other direction to another pulley. At the other ends of the ropes there are two little girls hanging from the pulleys by their necks. There are two chairs on each side of the woman that the children were probably standing on. I don’t know if I can take much more of this. Joker rigged this mechanism so that when he killed this woman she would hang her own daughters.
The floor is covered with thick pools of blood. I check the woman and her daughters for wounds. There are no lacerations on their bodies anywhere. Someone else was attacked in this room. Whoever it was, they got up and got out of the room without leaving much blood in the hallway. The window maybe? I walk over to the window. It is open and the frame is covered with blood.
I climb out the window and make my way into the back yard. I didn’t see anyone back here when I checked before, but maybe whoever climbed the window did it after I had checked. I look around and there still isn’t anyone in the backyard. I look at the ground and find a trail of blood that leads to the shed at the back of the yard. I follow the trail and open the shed door.
There isn’t much inside the shed. A motorcycle and a few tools scattered about. I look to the back of the shed and the back doors are open. I walk over there and go into the alley that runs behind the house. There is no blood back here, but there are skid marks on the pavement. One tire only. There must have been another motorcycle in the shed and someone took it.
I go back into the shed to have a closer look. I pull out my flashlight and turn it on. There, lying on the floor, propped against the shed wall, is the man I’m looking for. He’s wearing nothing but a pair of boxer shorts and he has a deep cut running across his chest. I kneel down beside him and check his pulse. He is just barely living. Suddenly, he gathers consciousness and grabs my arm. He gasps loudly and I pull his hand off of my arm.
“I’ve found you’re father, you’re children, and your wife. Is there anyone else in the house?”
“…my…mother… and…Liz”
“Okay. Where are they?”
“…up…upstairs…”
“I’ll be back for you.”
“Why…why did…he…leave us?”
“I don’t know.”
I can’t waste any time. I need to find the other two women and see if they survived. I doubt it, but Church’s brother made it, so maybe they could have also. I jump back through the window that I came out of and waste no time going through the room and into the hall. I run down the hall and make a quick right up the stairs. It takes me just a few seconds to make it up the stairs. There are two rooms upstairs. I check the first. There is no one inside, but there is a broken window on the far side of the room.
I run in and check the window. She wouldn’t have fallen into the back yard or I would have seen her. I look into the neighbors’ yard over the fence and, sure enough, Church’s mother is in their yard. She is impaled on a clothesline pole and there is a dog gnawing at her leg. I pull a gas pellet out of my belt and throw it into the neighbor’s yard. The dog sneezes about half a dozen times then passes out.
I run out of the room and rush into the next room down the hall. If I hadn’t already seen what I have seen tonight, what I am seeing now would make me vomit. Now, it just makes me angry. I clench my fists and, forgetting it’s in my hand, I crush my flashlight.
Elizabeth Church is nailed to the wall by her hands and feet in a crucifix style. She is stripped completely naked except for the ridiculous jester’s hat atop her head. Her face is painted white and there is red lipstick on her lips and spread over her cheeks to make a smile. Painted on the wall above her head are the words “Put on a happy face!” There is bucket underneath Elizabeth’s feet that is collecting blood and there is a brush laying beside it that is covered in blood. He wrote the words in her blood.
There is a loud pounding on the door downstairs. I walk over to the window at the front of the house and look down to the street. The police have arrived and Jim Gordon is on the front porch trying to break the door down. I open the window and climb out.
I fall to the ground and land on my feet without fault. All of the police turn to look my way. All of them except for Jim Gordon. He’s still pounding on the door trying to break it down. There are tears rolling down his cheeks. I walk over to him and put my hand on his shoulder.
“Jim…”
“Don’t just stand there! Help me get this door open!”
“I blocked the door, Jim.”
“What!”
“You don’t want to go in there.”
He stares at me for second then collapses onto me and sobs. I wrap my arms around him to keep him from falling. I don’t take my eyes off of the Church home. I know what Jim is thinking. He’s thinking back to that cold winter day when the Joker killed Sarah. He’s thinking of those pictures of Barbara that Joker showed him in that sick ride. I can’t help but think of my father’s cold dead hands in mine and the coward that shot my parents running away into the fog. I think of Jason. I wonder where Church is now and what he’s going to do in response to all of this.
Gordon and I are now in the shed. Gordon is kneeled next to Church’s brother trying to get a story out of him. I stand in the corner of the shed, hidden in the shadows. I don’t want Jim to see the tears that now roll down my cheeks. I don’t why, but I cannot stop crying. All of the pain from my childhood seems to be rushing back. The pain and the anger.
“Did you see which direction Joker went?”
“Jim.”
“Not now! I’m trying to figure out what happened here.”
“The man doesn’t have much time left to live. Let him die in peace.”
Jim Gordon runs his hands through his hair and sighs heavily. He coughs loudly then gags. He vomits on the floor of the shed away from Church’s brother. It kills me to see him like this. He wipes his mouth off and stands. He slowly walks my way and stares at me.
“You go ahead and play it cool. I’m not afraid to let people know how I feel.”
“I know that.”
“Good. Help me get him to his feet.”
“Excuse me?”
“I want that man to see his family before he dies.”
I follow Gordon over to Church’s brother. We both grab one of his arms and pull him to his feet. He can’t stand at all. Gordon and I have to drag him out of the shed into the back yard. All of the other members of the Church family are spread out on the grass.
Church’s brother stirs in our arms and raises his head. He throws us off of him and he falls to the ground next to his family. He grabs his wife’s hand and sobs. He touches his daughters’ hair and looks over at his son. He looks over at his mother and father lying next to each other across the yard. Then, he sees Elizabeth right next to them and sobs even louder.
“…son of a bitch…why’d he…take her? Why…her?”
He spits a large clump of blood out of his mouth. It lands on my boot, but I ignore it. He looks over at the blood on my boot. His eyes move up my leg, then up my torso, and, finally, his eyes lock onto mine. He stops sobbing and glares at me.
“And…where the hell… were you? Huh…Bat? Why didn’t you protect us?”
He coughs and spits up more blood.
“Answer me…dammit!”
“I’m sorry.”
“That’s…not good…enough. Sorry doesn’t…bring my…family back.”
“I know.”
He doesn’t take his eyes off of me the whole time as he slowly collapses and his eyes lose their life. I clench my fists and grind my teeth as he takes his last breath. Joker’s done it again. Another family, another man, has lost so much because of him. Jim lowers his head and waves an officer over. He whispers something into his ear and the officer grabs a sheet and throws it over the dead man’s body. Jim looks at me.
“This wasn’t your fault. Remember that.”
“No, this is my fault. I’ve let Joker get by with too much because I have a very strict moral code. I never kill. Well, maybe it’s time I take that code into consideration. Joker was ready to kill me four nights ago. Maybe I’m ready to do the same.”
“Don’t say that!”
Gordon is red in the face and he has a hold of my cape.
“All of these years! All these years I promised people that you weren’t like the others. You were one of the good guys. Don’t make me go back on my word!”
“I’m sorry, Jim. If I find Joker I’ll have to do it. I won’t have him hurt anyone else.”
“At what price! You kill him and you’re no better than he is!”
“Maybe that’s true.”
“No it isn’t! You’re not the Joker and he isn’t you! You’re not a killer!”
“Then what would you have me do? If you put him back in Arkham it will only be a matter of time before he has broken out again. Think of Barbara, Jim. Think of Sarah.”
“Don’t think I haven’t. I didn’t kill Joker when he shot Barbara. I almost killed him when he killed Sarah, but you were there to stop me. Now I’m here to stop you. Go ahead and beat him to a pulp! Break every bone in his body! Put him in a damn coma! I don’t care! Anything! You! Are! Not! A! Killer!”
I unclench my fists and sigh heavily. I look at the bodies spread around the yard. I know Jim is right, but how much longer can I allow this madness to continue? I wish I could just end it all. I take a deep breath and pinch the bridge of my nose. What am I supposed to do?
“Get this cleaned up. Signal me when you find Church.”
I shoot my grapnel upward and fade away into the night sky.