Disclaimer: Actually, quite a bit of this does belong to me. However, to be fair, quite a bit doesn't.
Many, many thanks go out to my beta, Philippa. It was a pleasure working with you.
This story is dedicated to my father.
Ann glanced nervously in her rearview mirror, half hoping she wouldn't see anything, and half wishing for a police cruiser to pull to a stop behind her. The view, however, was nearly identical to that in front of her: a dingy side street littered with garbage and vermin. Her heart hammered against her seatbelt, and her father's many words of warning echoed through her head. "Chivalry is dead," he was always telling her. "The men of today will not lift a finger to save you. Once you get out there, you're on your own." She'd always been very careful to follow his loving advice against going anywhere alone and unarmed, especially after dark in the city, butsomehow she'd convinced herself just this once not to worry about the hassles of self-protection. After all, she was only eighteen, so arming herself would have been highly illegal, and not coming was never an option. She couldn't stay home and leave her college boyfriend Matt to rot in a Gotham hospital. So she simply promised herself she'd be careful and left it at that.
Another nervous glance at her surroundings and she thought You just broke that promise, Nitwit. The shadows that blanketed everything but the area directly below the single flickering streetlight were enough to get her imagination working overtime. Add to it the deep, pounding beat that she could feel forcing its way out of a nearby nightclub and the distant sounds of a raucous gang having fun smashing windows, and Ann was forced to put her thoughts on hold to keep herself from panicking. Now's the time when a knight in shining armor is supposed to come rescue me from the trench coat and fedora clad villain. Too bad my knight's in Recovery, she groused, her nerves calmed slightly by her own sarcasm.
She had been visiting Matt in the hospital earlier that afternoon, helping him keep his mind off the numerous injuries he'd sustained during a mugging the week before. She knew he was worried the broken arm would interfere with his pitching once school and baseball started again in the fall, and she had been trying hard to lift his spirits. They were both so caught up in their casual bantering that it had been midnight before either of them noticed that darkness had fallen.
After a hurried leave-taking, she managed to get lost on the drive back to her hotel. Stupid one-way streets! Now she was sitting in her SUV on the side of a street, her hands still clutching the steering wheel even after the sputtering of her dying motor had ceased. Well, crap, had been the first coherent thought to enter her head. A small town girl, she was so far beyond her comfort zone in the city that it wasn't even funny, but she knew sitting there doing nothing wasn't helping anyone.
"I think I want to skip over this part and move on, hm?" She laughed humorlessly at herself as her voice was swallowed by the relative stillness of her car's interior. If there was ever a time to be quoting stupid movie lines . . . this ain't it.
Forcing herself to quit stalling, she took complete stock of her situation. She had no cell phone, only the Surefire flashlight her father had given her and her pocket knife. A three inch blade with teeth will really do me so much good, she commented helpfully to herself as a burst of gunshots in the distance broke through the ever-present muffled roar of traffic. Another of her father's sayings popped into her head – The first rule of combat: never bring a knife to a gunfight. As for her flashlight, she knew it would be helpful, but it wasn't nearly so reassuring as the powerful feel of a .45 in her hand. She glanced down at the five inch metal flashlight resting in her palm, the words "E2D Executive Defender" etched reassuringly into the side. Both ends were equipped with defensive spikes, but she hoped she wouldn't need to use them.
Purposefully keeping her thoughts detached, she pulled her now useless key from the ignition and dropped it into her purse, followed by anything of value in the car – proof of insurance, her loose change, and a few other small items. She hated to leave behind her extensive CD collection, but practicality won out against materialism, and she closed the center console firmly to give finality to her decision. One last deep breath and she stepped out into the hot summer night, her flashlight held tightly in her right fist, her thumb ready on the button.
She locked the door out of habit before slamming it shut, the mental image of her car on blocks and minus the engine but with the doors safely locked appearing in her head. I feel like Scarlet locking the Yankees out. Without giving herself time to hesitate or worry about the fate of her Explorer, Ann started walking. She tried her best not to exude terror and insecurity, but knew she was failing miserably. After all, confidence was not transmitted through constantly shifting eyes and hurried steps.
Three eternal minutes passed in darkness, but Ann could feel eyes – whether real or imagined she wasn't sure – following her every step. Her heart and stomach fluttered incessantly, and the grip on her flashlight weakened due to the trembling of her hands. All she wanted was to be back in her hometown, population five thousand, and safe in her daddy's strong arms, but she forced herself to keep her attention on her surroundings and the few people she passed. Most of the humanity nearby seemed to be in worse straits than herself, and she felt somewhat guilty just ignoring them, but caution forbade approaching anyone.
The sudden eruption of noise beside her as a window air conditioning unit roared to life made her jump, her breath catching in her throat to strangle a yelp. A homeless man crossing the street nearby laughed at her reaction, but made no comment.
Taking another deep breath of the stale city air, Ann started off again, trying to calm her racing heart. Come on, Bumpkin, she derided herself with a heavy southern accent, surely you're not scared of a little technology. Why, you're as skittish as a cat on a leash.
As the sounds of traffic began growing louder and the glow of streetlights became brighter, Ann couldn't help the smile that broke across her face. Finally, an end to the nightmare! She quickened her pace in anticipation, her attention narrowing to focus on the promise of safety ahead. But as she stepped off the curb and headed for the final block of her journey, a brutal hand wrapped itself around her arm and swung her bodily into the alley. She knew she should scream, but she couldn't even make herself breathe as she was released to roll across the grimy asphalt.
Her t-shirt soaked by a putrid puddle, Ann stumbled to her feet as a deep chuckle sounded in the darkness and she felt her blood freeze. A strange, detached part of her mind marveled that such things happened outside of novels and cartoons, but it was quickly drowned out by the rapid drumming of her heart and the white noise of fear and indecision.
"No," was all she managed to whisper in a tiny, broken voice, despite the lessons she'd been given to bark firm orders in situations like the one she currently faced. Say something, she urged herself, but she knew it would be fruitless – these men knew exactly what they were doing. Mere words would not stop them.
She was able to make out the shapes of three large men at the mouth of the alley, their hands hanging loosely at their sides as they stepped toward her. Their leering faces were only just visible in the darkness, but Ann was positive that she had no desire to see them in the light. Or even at all, she added grimly. I think I want to skip this part, too.
"Kinna quiet there, babe," the one on the left rasped at her with a horrid laugh. "I like 'em quiet. Less chance of company showin' up."
"I like it when they scream," the one on the left contradicted, the salacious grin in his voice making Ann want to retch in fear and loathing.
The third stayed silent, and that scared Ann most of all. She knew she didn't have a snowball's chance in El Paso, but she also knew that there was absolutely no freaking way she was going to willingly let these scumbags have their fun with her.
"C'mon, baby," the second one continued with a lewd chuckle as they drew ever closer, "scream."
Righteous anger suddenly flowed through Ann's veins and she wished fervently that she'd pulled her knife out of her jeans pocket before they'd grabbed her. Idiot, that same sarcastic and detached part of her mind snapped. Ignoring it, she spread her feet a bit for better balance and growled a hate filled, "You scream." With fire in her blood, she raised her flashlight and shone the 60 lumens beam directly into the eyes of the nearest thug.
She only had time to register the fact that all three men were squinting in the sudden light before the night sky fell in.
The second crook screeched in terror and the sarcastic part of Ann's mind gave out a triumphant Booyah! even as she once again froze in shock. Her flashlight's beam illuminated the entire alley and she was immediately able to identify The Batman as he smoothly incapacitated his opponents.
The first went down from a solid kick to the solar plexus and, despite the thrilling feeling of justice that coursed through her, Ann grimaced in sympathy as the man's eyes rolled into the back of his head and he crumpled to the ground with a strangled gasp.
His knees had barely touched the ground before the second thug was dodging the same fate by mere centimeters, letting out another terrified squeal. A switchblade appeared in his right hand, only to disappear just as quickly when a black gloved hand chopped down solidly on his wrist. The same hand flashed back up to grab the thug around the neck and lift him off the ground. There was a flurry of motion that Ann couldn't follow, and then there was another unconscious body on the ground.
Two sudden shots sounded through the night, and Ann watched in horror as the Batman jerked from the impact. Her own survival instincts finally kicked in as two more shots were fired, and she ducked behind a nearby dumpster, clicking off her flashlight as she did so.
What're the odds, she asked herself silently as the sounds of a rippling cape and a solid 'thud' reached her ears, of a visitor seeing the Batman when so many Gothamites haven't? She rolled her eyes at herself. Pretty good since most natives – save Matt – know how to avoid situations like this.
A dark figure suddenly loomed over her in the rather thick silence that had fallen, and she instinctively jerked her flashlight up as a fresh wave of adrenaline surged through her.
She was just able to glimpse the squinting visage of the Batman before they were once more plunged in darkness, her hand empty and her wrist tingling. Load of good that thing's done me so far, she grumbled to herself, rubbing her injured member.
Silence reigned for a few moments as they both struggled to regain their night vision and Ann tried valiantly to find something intelligent to say. What do you say to somebody who runs around in a costume saving idiots like me?
She opened her mouth to thank him, ask him where she should go now, or even order him to give her flashlight back, but all that came out was, "Weren't you shot?" and she immediately wanted to kick herself. He's the freaking Batman. He's either naturally bullet-proof, or prepared for such things. Duh.
Thankfully he ignored her stupidity. "The cops are on their way," was all he said before he vanished.
Ann glanced down at the flashlight that he had pressed into her hand the moment before he disappeared, and she smiled. Chivalry isn't dead, Daddy; it's just hiding in some very unique places.
Disclaimer continued: The movie lines are taken from What's Up Doc? and belong to Warner Bros. I have an E2D Executive Defender but I don't own the patents; Surefire does. Check them out: 3w's, a dot, surefire, another dot, and a 'com'. Expensive. But way cool.