Prologue

The dog's head perked up as he heard the key turn in the lock and the front door open. From the bedroom, the brownish great Dane came bounding into the living room, his tail wagging, his tongue hanging out in anticipation that his owner was home. That would mean dinner and an outing for some exercise.

As the door opened to the apartment on the thirty-fifth floor, the great Dane was rewarded with a smile and a scratch behind the ears as his owner dropped her things on the floor to greet him. He could tell she was glad to see him after a long day's work.

"Hi, Brucie," said the young woman as she gave her dog a big hug. In her late twenties, her hair was pulled back in her usual ponytail and she was dressed in dark blue slacks with a white button-down shirt. On her feet, she wore comfortable sneakers for her rounds at the hospital. She was tired and was glad she was home, but dinner still needed to be made.

Sabrina Wallis heaved a deep sigh as she shut the door and picked up her bag and keys. The one bedroom apartment was small but immaculate, everything in order, just how she liked it. The furnishings were sparse, but she wasn't home much, at times being able to work sixteen hours straight. Her dog kept her from working twenty-four hours a day and she made sure to come home to feed him and take him for a walk.

Going into the bedroom, Sabrina changed into faded jeans and a sweatshirt, one of the many she bought in college. Making a quick meal of pre-cooked chicken and frozen veggies, she fed Brucie and cleaned up the kitchen. Going to the dining room table with the paper, she propped her feet up on a chair and opened the business section of the Gotham Tribune. On the second page, she found a picture of Bruce Wayne in his usual two-piece suit standing outside a building. He was shaking hands with the president of a software company, the caption read, on the acceptance of a merger.

Sabrina smiled. More like takeover, she thought, though Wayne Industries was known to take care of employees on both sides of the table. She had an article with employees quoting that they didn't lose their jobs but were offered other gainful employment and were assisted with relocation if necessary. That article was tucked away in a business magazine that hard-core business professionals read. Not for the mainstream.

Studying the picture, she saw his handsome smile, a grin that stretch from ear to ear, but his eyes seemed distant, sad, as if he would rather be somewhere else, or—wished he had someone special to share the event with.

Taking out a small utility blade designed to cut paper, she cut out the picture and accompanying article and placed it in a file folder for scanning into her computer later.

In the currents section, she perused the front and on the celebrities' page, Bruce was there pictured with a blond haired woman. She was hanging onto him, a drink in her hand. He was smiling as usual, a smile that didn't light his eyes. Reading the blurb, it said he was with some supermodel Sabrina hadn't even heard of, at an after-party of a Gotham awards banquet.

Cutting the picture and article on that one too, she added it to her folder and cleaned up the table.

With a quick change to workout clothes, Sabrina took Brucie to the roof of the forty-story building. She ran around the track a few times with her dog at her side, both working up a good sweat. Using the stations build every quarter of the track, she also worked out her upper body. About ten o'clock, she looked up into the sky seeing a familiar figure fly over the rooftops of Gotham.

Probably making his rounds, she thought with a smile.

"Time to go in, boy," said Sabrina and headed inside.

Batman made his way through the dark basement hallway with only a pinpoint of light coming from his mini-mag, to guide him. He memorized the layout of the building's basement, but that was the easy part. He also had to avoid the clutter of fallen debris compromising of boxes and broken dry wall that shook apart the building with the first tremor.

He had parked his plane a few buildings away, unsure of how long he would be there, and made the rest of the way swinging on his line.

Sure of where to go, staying to his right, then making a left at the first fork, the passage came to an end and his choice was to head left or right. He needed to go right and then he found it. A door where behind it, contained the machine.

No one guarded the door, but he knew who he would find behind it, and he needed to be cautious, or he might not make it out with his sanity.

Taking a deep breath, he flung the door open with a kick, a baterang in hand. He threw it at its target, a machine flashing lights of all color indicating it was on and working.

Just as Batman hit his mark, the ground shook and the ceiling and walls began to crumble. He dodged the debris to tackle the madman who instigated the earthquake, knocking the wind out of him. Then darkness came.

Batman shook his head to clear the fog that clouded his mind. He found himself standing on the rooftop overlooking Gotham City. For a moment, a moment that seemed real, he was elsewhere, but realized it must have been an illusion. He felt the aches and exhaustion that coursed through his body, a sign telling him that he'd been up for too many days in a row.

Flying high over the rooftops of his city, he landed his plane two blocks of the crumbling apartment building. Taking one last look around, he took a deep breath and swung down on his cable. Batman was past the point of exhaustion, but this was one more call for help that he needed to answer. Quickly assessing the situation, he swung into an open window searching for people in need of help. The floor seemed clear and he headed towards the floors below, making his way towards the basement.

A tremor shook the city a few minutes earlier and he had to move fast for fear of aftershocks. They did not get earthquakes often on this side of the coast and his mind raced for an answer, wondering if the quake was man-made as opposed to natural.

Hearing voices, Batman lifted pieces of an interior wall, helping a few people get out from under the broken material. They were dusty and slightly injured, but at least they were alive.

"Thank you, Batman," said one man as they headed for safety.

The Dark Knight gave a nod and continued to search for others who may have been trapped.

Heading towards the lower floors, he thought he heard a faint banging. Someone trapped behind a door? Focusing his mind on the sound, he headed down a hallway, weaving his way through dangling light fixtures emitting sparks.

Moving large pieces of furniture and other broken fixtures out of the way, he was about to open the door when another tremor hit.

With nowhere to hide, Batman could do nothing to save himself as part of the ceiling came tumbling down on top of him. He was trapped and knocked out cold.