Batman
There was nothing left at the Church home and Parker’s apartment yielded no evidence as to the identity of Joke-Man. This is all getting too complicated. Not only do I not have any links on Joke-Man, but now nearly all of Gotham’s police are dead due the explosion of the GC PD.
All of this is racing through my head, but right now I have to play Bruce Wayne for my board of directors. I hate these meetings; they take valuable time that could be used for bringing this case together. I’ll have to talk to Gordon tonight and figure out just how bad the situation is, but during the day I have to put on my real mask.
“Mr. Wayne?”
I look up and see that Fox and the rest of the board are staring at me.
“You said that you had plans for a new charity, Mr. Wayne?”
“Ah, yes I do, Luscious. Thank you for snapping me out of that trance. Miller’s presentation kind of sent me off daydreaming.”
I see Miller frown at the far side of the room. What I said isn’t true. Miller’s plans are going to launch Wayne Enterprises into the next century, but I have to pretend to not give a damn. I stand and begin to walk around the table.
“Anyway, what I’d like to propose is that we begin funding a cause to help the families of the police officers that were lost in yesterday’s incident. Also, I’d like to fund officers that have lost their families.”
“Like Robert Church,” O’Neil speaks out.
“Precisely. Though Church is still missing, in a city like this many officers have been personally attacked and have lost members of their families. Even our own commissioner has lost his wife and his daughter was crippled.”
“What do you suggest we do then?” Morrison asks.
“I say we do whatever we can do. If the best we can do is give money, then that’s what we’ll do. Though, I think that, right now, we should focus most of our attention on the families and not the officers. The families are the ones struggling most right now.”
“Would you like me to cover this, sir?” Miller asks.
“No, no, no. You keep doing…what ever it is that you are doing. We’ll leave this in the hands of Mr. Fox and myself for the time being.”
I can see Miller frowning again and O’Neil laughs quietly at my false teasing. I’m sure it’s quite amusing to normal people when I pick at an individual like I’m doing with Miller. I just hope that Miller realizes he’s a valued member to Wayne Enterprises and that my teasing doesn’t sway him.
“I think we’re done here. You’re free to go gentlemen.”
“Sir, we haven’t heard Morrison’s presentation yet,” O’Neil reminds me.
“Oh, I’m sure it can wait until Monday.”
This time Miller laughs quietly as they all stand and leave the room. I think it’s best that I treat them all equally. I’ll insult O’Neil and Fox Monday during the next meeting. Fox laughs softly as the last of them exits the room and comes up to me. I look at the man and try my best to return the smile.
“You don’t have to act with me.”
“It’s getting harder, Fox.”
“Why do you this to yourself, Mr. Wayne? Why not just act like the man that you truly are? These men don’t need a playboy as a boss, they just need a boss.”
“You know I can’t do that, Fox. If I let up just once someone could tie me to Batman and that’s one secret that this city can’t know. If anyone found about me, about all of it, this city would tear itself apart.”
“Well, I don’t now if you’ve noticed, but the city’s already tearing itself apart.”
“I’ve noticed.”
“Then why waste time entertaining old men like me? You should be out there dealing with this.”
“Gordon can handle things until the monsters come out at night. I’m more effective in the shadows anyway.”
There is a quiet beeping in my jacket pocket. I pull out my cell phone and flip it open, checking the screen: one new text message. I press a button and read over the message quickly: Where the hell are you?-Barbara.
I put the phone back into my jacket and turn back to Fox.
“Looks like someone agrees with you.”
“Then get out there and get to work. Gotham needs Batman more than Wayne Enterprises needs Bruce Wayne.”
“We can discuss this at another time.”
I walk to the far corner of the room. Pressing a small, nearly-invisible button on the wall, I walk into the wall as it opens up to reveal a secret elevator. I press a button in the elevator and the wall closes back up in front of me, followed by a set of steel doors. The elevator hums quietly as it begins to make its descent.
This elevator leads down to one of my break stations far below the streets of Gotham. Waiting for me will be a Batsuit and an array of spare tools. The people of Gotham City would be surprised to learn about the system of tunnels that I have running beneath the streets. True, they’ve taken years to build considering that Alfred and I have had very little time to dig over the years. Each tunnel leads to either a break station or a passage leading up to the streets at specific locales. The break station below Wayne Enterprises is connected to three tunnels that lead to the now obliterated Gotham Central, the home of Luscious Fox, and one tunnel that leads back to the cave.
The elevator comes to a halt and I step out as the steel doors slide open. I take a moment to look over the break station as the doors close behind me. There’s nothing missing. On the far wall there is an arsenal of batarangs and other gadgets. The Batsuit hangs in a glass case to my right. Parked to my left is the motorcycle I left here a few nights ago.
I quickly remove my suit, leaving myself in nothing but my undergarments. I deposit the clothes in a drawer along the far wall and move back to the display case, opening it. I reach inside the display case and pull out the Batsuit. I quickly pull the tight fabric over my body, lastly pulling the cape and cowl over my head. I go back to the far wall and fill my belt with the needed tools. Fully garbed and geared, I get on the motorcycle, putting my helmet on over my mask and starting the motor. I punch the gas and disappear into the shadows of the nearest tunnel.
The tunnel I’m driving through takes me to Gotham Central, which isn’t where I want to go, but a diverting tunnel will put me close to Barbara’s clock tower apartment. If this were an emergency I’d be driving as fast as this motorcycle would take me, but, considering that Barbara probably just wants to talk at me, I’m taking it easy; pushing myself is for later hours.
I arrive at the diverting tunnel and I take the turn fairly easy. Driving through the tunnel, a lot of thoughts go through my head. This is all just too much at once: Robert Church is missing, Joker is running free, the identity of Joke-Man remains a mystery, Tim’s been kidnapped by Joke-Man, Joker wants to kill Robin, and nearly all of the police in the city are dead or dying, leaving me to clean it all up by myself. This may very well be the toughest thing I’ve ever been through.
I reach the hatch in the tunnel that leads up to the street that leads to the clock tower. I get off of the motorcycle, taking off the helmet and leaving it on the rear seat. I jump up to the hatch and climb through, removing and then replacing the dumpster over the top of the hatch.
Outside on the street I look around me. It’s always been odd for me to be out in the daylight while wearing the Batsuit. I’ve done it plenty of times when working with the Justice League, but not often in my own city and I’ve never been comfortable with it. I look down the alley and I can see the clock tower peeking over the short buildings around me.
I climb a fire escape and jump to the roof where I’m more in my element. Without much hesitation, I run across the rooftop and jump across a gap to a neighboring rooftop. Upon landing on this rooftop, I immediately start running to the far ledge. One good thing about being Batman in the daytime is that I don’t feel like Batman. I don’t feel the burden of wearing the cape and cowl. I feel relaxed and the adrenaline feeds the emptiness inside of me that I usually fill by busting up criminals. When it just comes down to a clean slate I feel like Bruce Wayne again.
I reach the ledge of the building adjacent to Barbara’s apartment. This is where I become Batman again. Maintaining discrepancy in broad daylight is difficult; it’s even harder when you have to jump across a six-lane city street. I grab the grapnel from my belt and launch the hook across the street. The hook catches on a protruding angel statue and I pull the line taut. Waiting for the right moment when no is really looking up, I leap from the ledge and swing out across the street. I only go about half way, then release the line and glide down to the far ledge. I land softly in an open window on the forth floor. Not wanting to disturb the occupants of the apartment, I step back out of the window onto a protruding ledge and lean against the building.
Anyone that would care to look up would easily see me standing here. That’s why I quickly flip myself around and begin scaling the building. I’ve taken a set of hooks out of my belt that attach to my hands that make up for the lack of footholds. Scaling the building this way is a tedious process, but I was lucky no one saw me fly over the street and I don’t want to draw attention to myself here either.
I eventually reach Barbara’s window at the very top of the building. I stand out on a ledge and tap on the window. I can hear her talking to someone inside. No surprise. Oracle provides information for the whole Justice League, not just me. The talking stops inside and the window opens inward next to me.
“You don’t have to stand out there, the window’s always unlocked.”
I turn and jump down into the apartment.
“That’s been a problem in the past, Oracle.”
“Yeah, well I’ve got you to protect me. Not that I need protection.”
“What do you want? I don’t come out for social calls.”
“I’ve got bad news. Think you can take it?”
I don’t even respond.
“Of course…Well, you know that Dick’s been staying here with me. You know, ever since you drugged him-”
“You’re rambling.”
“Sorry…Well, he, uh…didn’t come back last night.”
“You don’t know where he is?”
“Well,” Barbara rolls over to her computer and opens a map on the screen, “I traced him right up to here.”
She points to a red blip on the map.
“After that his signal just dropped. Which means someone destroyed his tracking device or-“
“He’s dead.”
“Yeah. I’m hoping it’s not the latter, but, if you want to find out, you know where to look.”
“Where’s the tracking device in Tim’s suit?”
“Well, his was one of the first we designed and we didn’t design it very well. His is in his belt, just like yours. That’s why I told you that I can’t find him. It’s also why I’ve told you to let me adjust your suits, so that if you ever come up missing I’ll be able to find more than just your belt.”
“I’ve already told you what to do if I’m missing.”
“Well, we won’t be able to do that if you don’t find Dick. Why not let Huntress help out on this one?”
“No.”
“Dammit, Batman, you’re so freakin’ stubborn sometimes, you know that? All of your approved help is MIA and you can’t do all of this by yourself. Either let Huntress do something or I’ll call him. I know you don’t want his help, you’re too proud to ask.”
“What are you trying to do, Oracle?”
“Me? I’m just trying to keep you from exhausting yourself. You know that you’d have found Tim days ago if you’d called him, but you’re just too proud. That and you’re afraid that Huntress will kill someone. Well, I’ve got news for you: maybe it wouldn’t hurt. Joker has gone too long without getting the punishment he deserves and this Joke-Man looks to be just as dangerous.”
“No one dies on my watch. No one.”
“Fine. Call some one. This case is too big for you to handle alone and I’ve got a whole list of people who haven’t got much going on right now that would be glad to help. Oh, and ‘no one dies on my watch?’ That’s not the impression you made on my father.”
“This is what you called me here for?”
“Well, I called you here because of Dick. If there’s a chance that he’s dead then I want you to get help before anyone else gets hurt. God knows you’ve already let the whole police department get blown away.”
“You’re saying all of this is my fault?”
“Sorry…I didn’t mean that. It’s just that…well, a lot of those people were like family to my dad and now they’re gone. So, please, get someone to help you.”
The thought rolls around in my head. Why haven’t I asked for help? Am I too proud? Have I really become so arrogant that I won’t let my closest friends for help when I need them most? On the other hand, how effective would Batman be if he needs help?
“Call for help, but don’t call Him. I’ll make due with the less extravagant characters in The League.”
“Why, Bruce, I thought you’d never ask!”
I turn around to find a close friend and an even closer ally. The man is dressed all in green, his hood shadowing his face. The arrows in the quiver strapped to his back are green-feathered and deadly accurate only in his hands. His goatee is longer than when we last met. His arms are crossed over his chest and he is grinning from ear to ear.
Oliver Queen, the Green Arrow.
Barbara rolls up next to me and she is also grinning. Part of me is angry at her for going behind my back. The other part is upset that I hadn’t spotted him in the corner of the room. Barbara looks up at me and waits for my approval.
“Do you have anyone in mind, Oracle?”
“A joke?” Oliver laughs loudly, “How long have I been?”
“I figured if you were going to ask anyone for help that you’d ask Ollie. After all, he’s pretty much you with a sense of humor and a bow and arrow.”
“What do ya say, Bruce? Wanna give this town a wake up call?” Oliver asks, holding out his hand.
“You take care of the city; I’ll take care Joke-Man.” I say, passing him and making my way out the window.
“I should’ve known better. After all, this isn’t a business deal,” Oliver jokes, following me out the window. “Speaking of which, when are your guys going to finalize the deal with Queen Industries?”
“When its owner takes some responsibility,” I remark, leaving Oliver in the window by himself.
“Ouch. That’s cold.”
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Nightwing
I slowly open my eyes, fighting to ignore the throbbing pain in my head. That mallet sure as hell left its impression on me. Once my eyes are open, I try to figure out where it is exactly that I am now. I try to move my feet and hands, but they seem to be tied down to something. I look down and see that I’m tied to some sort of giant target. Well, at least I’m not dead yet.
I see a fire burning in a barrel to my right. I look at it closely and I can see one of my gauntlets hanging over the side of the barrel; it’s at this point that I realize that I’m wearing nothing but my underwear and my mask. Batman will never find me if the tracking device in the suit has been melted. Standing next to the fire is Harley Quinn, who is poking at my burning suit with a steel rod.
I look ahead and see Joker making his way towards me. He has a large bag thrown over his right shoulder and is grinning from ear to ear. He reaches me and stops cold, dropping the bag to the floor. He crosses his arms over his chest and taps his foot, looking me up and down.
“What am I gonna do with you, Fight-Thing? So many ways to kill you; it’s a shame that I can only kill you once.”
“Why not let me hit ‘im with the mallet again, Mr. J?” Harley holds up the mallet and grins.
Joker glares at her and she drops the mallet, sheepishly returning to playing with the fire. Joker bends down and reaches into his bag of toys. He pulls out a hatchet and a meat cleaver, examining them closely. He stands straight again and walks up closer to me. I’m hanging higher than he stands and he has to look up to get face-to-face with me. He stares into my eyes and squints.
“Which do you think I should use?”
He holds the weapons up in my face and cocks his brow. I gather what saliva I have in my mouth and propel it out at his face. The spit hits his cheek and starts to run down his face. He closes his eyes, frowning, and smiles, reaching up and wiping the spit away with the back of his glove. He swings the meat cleaver and sticks it into the target inches away from my head.
“You’re not helping you’re situation,” he says coolly, swiping at my stomach with the hatchet, leaving a long, thin cut.
He goes back to the bag, dropping the hatchet at my feet. If my hands weren’t tied, I’d reach down, grab that thing, and throw it at him; it wouldn’t be a killing blow, of course. Joker reaches into the bag again, this time pulling out a crossbow. Without a second’s hesitation, he fires the arrow at me, barely taking aim, and it hits me in the thigh. I growl in pain through my teeth.
“Hurt, didn’t it?” He asks, tossing the crossbow aside and digging deeper into the bag. “Where is it?”
He reaches his whole arm into the bag, trying to find something at the bottom. I can hear metal clanging against metal as he feels around in the bag. It’s impossible to ignore the pain in my leg, let alone the pain in my head and the bullet holes in my shoulders. Joker lets out a bursting laugh and smiles widely as he begins to pull his hand back out of the bag.
“There it is!”
His hand comes back out of the bag and in it is something that I had not expected to see. It writhes in his hand, wrapping up around his arm. I gulp hard as Joker walks towards me with this new weapon. The black form gleans in the light, the surface reflecting like a rainbow. It snaps at Joker’s face and Joker just laughs, rubbing it up and down with his other hand. When Joker is to me, it turns and snaps at me.
I can feel the cobra’s tongue flicker against my skin.
“Do you like my new pet? I’ve never really been a fan of black, but it works beautifully for my little friend here.”
The cobra snaps again and almost gets a hold of my chest. A bead of sweat falls over my face as I realize how close I am to death. I’m not afraid of snakes, no, but when there is one this venomous this close to me and my hands are tied, I don’t think fearing for my life is that bad.
“I’m not sure, but I think she wants to bite you,” Joker teases, holding the snake up to my face.
I turn away and hope that it doesn’t latch on to me.
“What’s wrong? This seems appropriate, doesn’t it? If I just knifed you I wouldn’t be able to watch the life drain out of you. You’d bleed and then, just like that, you’d be dead. However, like this, I can watch as the poison seeps into your little bird veins and I can watch you swell up like balloon until you take your last breath.”
“Good one, Mr. J!” Harley exclaims.
Joker glares over at her.
“Would you stay out of this?”
“Sorry, Mr. J.”
Joker moves the snake even closer to my face. I turn my head back and make eye contact with the cobra. Well, I’ve only got one real shot at getting out of this. I lick my lips and stretch my neck, seeing how far out my head will go. Good. It’ll reach.
“Ready to die, Night-Sing?”
The cobra begins to move back, preparing to strike.
Before it can lash at me, I lash at it, trapping its neck in my teeth. I look Joker in the eye and he seems just as surprised as I am at my ferocity. I rip the still-living snake from Joker’s hand with all of the power of my neck. With a strong fling of my head, I launch the snake from my mouth and over into the fire.
“Interesting…” Joker says as he makes his way over to Harley and the fire.
Taking the steel rod from Harley, he sticks it down into the fire and fishes around in the barrel. When he pulls the rod back out, the snake is draped over the end, charred to a crisp. Joker first turns towards me and holds out the snake, showing me the remains. He then shoves the snake in Harley’s face and smiles wickedly. He drops the snake off of the rod back into fire and turns back to Harley.
She smiles innocently.
Joker swings the glowing, hot rod at Harley, hitting her across the face and sending her to the floor.
“I told you to tie his head down!” Joker yells, continuing to hit her with the rod.
After about 30 more seconds of this, Joker drops the rod on her head, brushing his hair out his face with his hands. He turns back to me and shrugs like nothing happened.
“Women! Whatcha gonna do?”
Harley is no better than any other criminal, but it burns me to see a woman get hit like that. If I could only get myself untied. I’ve been trying to undo the knots ever since I regained consciousness, but, if there’s one compliment I can give Joker, it’s that he can tie a good knot. I pull as hard as I can, but it’s just no use.
Joker, not wanting to waste any more time in killing me, skips back over to his bag. This time he quickly pulls out two lawn darts and twirls them in his hands. He walks about halfway between me and the bag, then stops, turning back towards the bag. He stretches both of his arms out in a straight line from his sides.
Just as I begin wondering why he’s just standing there like a giant “t”, he quickly turns, bending down to one knee as he throws one of the lawn darts. The dart flies at me and hits in the same place as the meat cleaver is stuck on the other side of my head. Joker stamps his foot and returns to his “t” position. He quickly turns again, this time in the opposite direction, and throws the other dart.
This dart comes much faster and it hits my stomach, lurching deep into my flesh. Joker jumps into the air and pumps his fist. I just hang here, blood beginning to leak into my insides. Joker skips over to me and pulls the dart out of my body, causing a large amount of blood to spew out of me onto the floor. Joker leaps back, not wanting to get any of my blood on his shoes.
“Well, it’s not as good as the snake, but watching you bleed to death will have to do,” Joker laughs, sticking a finger into the wound in my stomach. “Wow! That’s deep! I can fit my whole finger in it!”
I yell out in pain as Joker plays with my insides. I drop my head and just wait for the pain to end. Joker takes his damn finger out of me and steps back, pulling off his glove. He crosses his arms and stares at me, grinning. The thought occurs to me that I’m probably not going to get out of here alive.
Then, there is a crash somewhere in the building. Joker alertly stares off in the direction of the noise. He slowly walks back over to me and pulls the meat cleaver out of the target. He lifts my head and stares into my eyes, holding the cleaver to my throat.
“Does the Bat know you’re here?”
I shake my head. There’s no way Batman could find me so quickly without the tracking device in my suit. No, there has to be someone else here. Joker reluctantly lets go of my head and walks in the direction of the noise.
I’m left alone and bleeding.
I thought that I was dead up on that rooftop yesterday morning, so my life’s already flashed before my eyes; seems like that only happens once. Now that I’m really going to die, all I can think is that maybe I’ll see my parents again.
Something in me makes me look over to see if Harley is okay. What got in her head to make her want to throw in with a nutjob like Joker? No one deserves to be treated the way Joker treats her. My eyes are a little glazed over right now, but I can tell that she’s not in very good shape. There’s a considerable amount of blood pooling around her head.
In the distance I can hear a scream. It didn’t sound like Joker, and Batman never screams, so that means that someone else broke in here. I can hear a bunch of other voices getting closer to me. They sound fairly young and the voices don’t sound like any one I know. So, who the hell broke in here? New kids trying to be heroes? Well, if that’s the case, then they got lucky finding me because Batman hasn’t even found me yet.
I get my answer when a kid comes running out from behind a stack of crates. He’s wearing a jean jacket covered with patches and he has a bandana wrapped around his head. Looks like a gang of kids broke in here trying to find some goodies and found the devil waiting. I’d say they deserve some sort of punishment, but right now they’re my only hope to get out of here alive.
The kid about runs past me.
“Hey, kid! Some help here?”
He stops dead in his tracks, noticing me, I think for the first time.
“Shit! What hap’n to ya?”
“Don’t worry about it. Could you untie me, please?”
He looks me over as he begins to work on the knots.
“Don’t think this is gonna help ya much.”
“I’ll be fine. Just get me down.”
He keeps pulling on the ropes, but he’s having little success.
“I dunno, man. I can’t do it.”
“There’s a hatchet on the floor there.”
“Man! I don’t have time fo’ this! That clown’s killin’ ma friends and he gonna kill me next!”
“Just cut my right hand free. I’ll take care of the other knots.”
The kid grabs the hatchet off of the floor and starts to grind at the rope with the blade. I can hear his friends getting closer. I hope I can get free before Joker gets back here. Then again, even if I do get free, I’ll be lucky if I can walk out of here. I look over at Harley’s body. I have to get her out of here too. She needs medical attention.
The kid finally cuts through the rope, but he’s so nervous that he doesn’t realize that he’s started to cut into my wrist.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa! You got it! You got it!”
“Oh…Sorry ‘bout that.”
“Give me the hatchet before you do anything else to me.”
The kid hands me the hatchet and immediately runs off to get away from Joker. Good job, kid. Apparently he didn’t notice the bleeding woman on the floor. Kids these days don’t care that much about anything or anyone else around them but themselves.
I’ve almost got my left hand free when two more kids run by me. They must not be as scared as the other kid was because there’re picking stuff up along the way. One of the two grabs Joker’s bag of weapons and the other runs over to Harley and rips the mask off of her face. I have no choice but to keep cutting the rope; I don’t have time to lecture these kids.
“This is a bitchin’ mask, dude!”
“Yeah, that’s cool! Just take the damn thing and keep runnin’, man!”
The second kid throws Harley’s mask into Joker’s bag and they both run off into the shadows. I fall forward as my left hand is freed. I immediately begin to work at my feet as fast as I can at this awkward angle. I hear more screaming and it’s getting closer.
“Stop squirming and it won’t hurt so badly!” I hear Joker yell in the distance. There is a final scream, and then Joker burst out laughing.
My legs are finally free and I have to struggle to get to my feet. I yank the arrow out of my leg in hopes of making it easier to stand; if anything it makes it hurt even more. I eventually get to my feet and find it surprisingly easy to stand, considering what I’ve just been through. Putting one foot in front of the other, I slowly make my way over to Harley.
There’s no way I’m going to be able to carry her out of here. I look around and spot a cloth covering a stack of crates. I limp over there and yank the cloth off of the crates, making a large dust cloud that fills the air around me. I carry the cloth back over to Harley and lay it out on the floor.
Being as gentle as I can possibly can, I lift Harley a few inches off of the ground and put her down onto the cloth. I look around for Joker, but he’s still some where else in the building. I grab the end of the cloth and pull, dragging Harley along after me.
I pass stack after stack of crates, trying to find my way out here. If my tracking device were still active I could use the lenses in my mask to pinpoint my location and access the building’s floor plans. However, that option’s been lost. If I run into Joker on my way out of here, then I’m dead, no doubt about it.
I pass an open door, ignoring it at first. After taking a few more steps, I backtrack to the door and look inside. The door opens into a room filled with racks of costumes. Relieved, I go into the room and look for something decent to slide on; I can’t go back out onto the streets in my boxers. I find a long, purple coat and slide my arms into it. It’s a bit tight because it’s meant to fit Joker, but I make due and tie it shut. I find a decent pair of boots and squeeze my feet inside them. Fully dressed, I quickly exit the room and begin towing Harley to find the exit.
I reach a dead end at the corner of the building. I swear and look around, trying to get a sense of direction. I walk around Harley and begin dragging her back the way we came. I got down from the target, I got clothed, now all I have to do is avoid Joker and find my way out.
As I round a stack of crates, I feel a tugging on my coat. I look down and see Harley pointing to her right.
“The exit’s that way, remember, Mr. J?”
She passes out again, her finger still pointing in the direction of the exit. I look in the direction that she’s pointing. A straight shot through an aisle created by the stacks of crates; the door to the outside waits at the end. I’m a little insulted that she confused me for Joker, but she’s delirious and I am wearing his clothes. I smile down at her and drag her in the direction of the door.
I’m about half way to the door when I see the two kids (the ones that stole Joker’s stuff) run to the door and explode through it. A second later, Joker appears right behind them, carrying a gun. He steps out the door and fires two shots. Judging by the grin on his face, I’d say he hit his mark.
“And stay out!”
Before Joker can turn around and see me, I quickly drop the end of the cloth and climb a tall stack of crates. I position my self on top and look back to the door where Joker is coming back inside. My body hurts like hell, but I’d be feeling nothing at all if I hadn’t climbed up here. Joker walks down the aisle, clearly spotting Harley on the floor, but he maintains his slow walk. He reaches Harley and squats down beside her.
“Now, how did you get here?” He asks, running his hands through her blonde hair.
He looks all around, his eyes passing right over the spot where I’m hiding; I’m too far up in the shadows for him to see me here. He stands and grabs the cloth that Harley is laying on. He drags her back the way from which I came, continuing to look around.
“What’d ya say we check on our company, eh, Harles?”
He disappears behind a stack of crates and, as soon as Harley’s feet follow behind him, I climb down. I don’t have a choice; I have to get out of here before Joker sees that I’m untied and he comes back here for me. I can’t go back for Harley now. Well, now that I’m not dragging dead weight, I can at least move at a jogging pace.
I reach the door and, looking back one last time, step outside. I trip over something as I step out the door and I fall over the stair rail. I stand up straight, spotting the two dead kids in the alley, and look back at the ground to see a skewed doormat; that must be what I tripped over. I pick up the mat and look it over. It reads: “Please wipe your feet.” I drop the mat and limp down the stairs.
I’m walking out of the alley when I hear angry shouting behind me in the distance.