Chapter Seven

Southwest Gotham Warehouse District.

29 September. 20:14.

Jason was in the wrong part of town. Not like there was a right part of town, but he had no good reason to be in this area. People in Coventry were wising up, so he'd started walking further west, looking for the next neighbourhood to stake out. He found a few options, but then he just kept walking instead of picking a place.

So now here he was in some random warehouse area after dark, in a narrow alley between two rusty sheet-metal buildings. Mama Rosa would wonder where he was, but he decided he didn't really care. She wasn't his mother. Besides, Eddie and Rafael and sometimes even Tag stayed out late all the time.

He kicked a rock at a warehouse. It sounded too loud clattering against the metal wall.

"What was that?" said a muffled voice.

Jason froze. Wrong part of town. What the hell was he doing here? He could fight, he could defend himself, but what if a bunch of guys jumped him at once? What if they had weapons? Jason had a knife in his pocket, but he wasn't dumb enough to think that made him strong. He shrank back into the shadows and hoped he could sneak away.

"Probably just a dog or something," said another voice, the kind of cold hard voice that belonged to people who didn't give a shit about anything but themselves.

"All right," said the first voice. "Then let's get this over with before anything worse shows up. How come we have to help you with this, anyway?"

Jason started tiptoeing along the side of the warehouse. The voices came from inside. As long as he stayed quiet, he could get out of this little alley and run away and they'd never know he had been here.

"You're the ones who want to buy the finished product," said the cold voice.

"Oh, come on, we know you're selling to other people too," the other replied. "So I want to know why you can't do the test without us."

"Calm down," said a third voice. It sounded like it belonged to a black man.

Jason was almost at the end of the alley. It was pitch-black here, but just a few feet ahead he could see a dull yellow-grey glow filtering into the warehouse strip from the nearest streetlights. He broke into a quicker walk – and tripped headlong over something he couldn't see in the dark, but whatever it was, it fell over against the warehouse wall with a crash.

"There's someone out there!" howled the first man. "I knew that wasn't a dog!"

Jason scrambled up and bolted for the light. His heart thundered in his ears. He was an idiot, an idiot, a stupid stupid idiot for coming to a place like this alone at night. And he realised too late he'd come from the back of the warehouse. He was running toward the door. He tried to slow down but he was running too fast. He skidded out into the dim light just as the door banged open.

"It's some brat!" The guy had a buzz cut and a leather jacket and a gun, and the gun was pointed at Jason.

He froze. What kind of dumb-ass was he? He'd lived in this city all his life. He knew better than to get caught in a place like this after dark. But at least, he wasn't stupid enough to try to run from a gun. Just stay still and maybe they'd decide he wasn't worth killing.

The black man stepped out behind the one with the gun. "Don't shoot him, it's just a kid," he said. "Haul him away and dump him outside the warehouse strip."

"Wait," said the cold voice. The third man glided into the light. Jason's eyes flickered to him and got caught. He had glasses on his nose and a nice suit coat. It didn't look like he had a weapon at all, but somehow he seemed more dangerous than the gun.

The black guy frowned. "What?"

"We're here to test the product, after all. The monkey was interesting, but this is a better opportunity. Bring him inside."

The black guy's frown got deeper. "He's just some kid, Doc."

"Precisely." The man in the suit gestured at Jason. "Bring him in."

"All right, whatever." The black guy nodded at Jason. "Get inside or he'll probably shoot you."

The guy with the gun did look a little twitchy. Jason had seen the type before. He was the kind that waved around a gun so he didn't feel so weak. He'd be trigger-happy. Jason realised he was sweating even though it wasn't warm out. He didn't want to go in that warehouse. Test what product? Were they going to use him like some kind of lab rat? But if he tried to run, they'd shoot him.

He walked into the warehouse and tried not to let his legs shake too much. It worked all right until he saw what was inside.

Product? He thought they meant some kind of drug or something. This wasn't a product, this was a monster! It wasn't the kind of thing that grew on its own. It looked like something mashed together out of clay by a bad sculptor. It was bigger than Jason. It was in a cage, but a man in a white lab coat stood ready to unlatch the gate. The coat's sleeve said BeneChem on it in red letters.

He tried to back away. If they shot him, well, that wasn't the worst way to go, was it? But the guy with the gun grabbed him by the arm and hauled him forward. He could break free now. One man so close to him – he could turn and kick him and get away.

Then the gun pressed against his back and he stopped thinking about running. Shit. That was what that thing in the cage looked like. A big heap of shit that he'd fallen into face-first.

"Once you've finished all your tests and shit, we want one that's a lot bigger, right?" said the black guy.

"Of course," said the cold man.

The man in the lab coat opened the cage.

The man in the suit looked at the monster and said, "Kill the boy."

And the monster jumped out into the warehouse and stared at Jason with eyes that weren't quite as stupid as they should have been.

Jason ran. He didn't have anywhere to run, but he couldn't fight a thing like that. He bolted for the door, which was shut and locked. He scrabbled at it anyway, stupidly, because there was nothing else to do and he could feel the monster's hot breath and its spit dripped down the back of his neck and hurt his skin and he could smell a stink that burned his nose like strong acid and he was about to die—

And high above, one of the little windows along the top of the warehouse smashed and a dark shape dropped onto the monster's back.

Jason cringed against the door and stared. He didn't have enough energy left to remember to be manly. He wasn't pissing his pants. That was manly enough right now. He stared wide-eyed because he couldn't look away.

The first blow had knocked the monster silly, but it wasn't staying down. It sprang up and rushed at Batman, and he leapt out of the way too gracefully for such a big man.

Someone barrelled into Jason, sent him sprawling, and he realised it was the man in the suit, opening the door, running away. The other three guys followed him, and Jason scrambled up to follow them, but the door slammed behind them, and then the monster and Batman roared toward him and he had to throw himself out of their way as they smashed against the door.

The creature was bigger than Jason, but only barely as big as Batman, and Batman was the better fighter. He ducked and dodged and rolled away, then came up with a glinting black curve in each hand, threw, and the monster staggered back with batarangs sprouting from its eyes. It shrieked in agony and slumped to the floor, twitching.

Batarangs. Like the one that killed Dad. Jason stared at the weapons. Just like the one that killed Dad. And Batman threw them without hesitating, and the monster was dead. He was glad it was dead. But not like this.

"Are you all right?" asked the deep, rough voice.

Jason stared up at the cold white slits of eyes. He tried to reach for his knife, but his hand didn't want to move. He tried to say, "Piss off," but his mouth didn't want to move either. So he just nodded.

"Good." Batman strode past him in a whirl of black cape and crouched beside the monster. Jason couldn't see what he was doing. His arms moved under the cape and the burning acidic smell grew stronger. Then he stood and whirled back toward Jason, and one of his gloved hands tucked something away in his belt.

"One of those guys had a coat that said 'BeneChem' on it," said Jason. It wasn't what he meant to say. Why was he telling Batman that?

The white eyes considered him. "You noticed that in the middle of all this?"

"Yeah. So?" Jason balled his fists.

"Impressive." Batman kept looking hard at him, and Jason felt like those blank eyes were peeling him apart and looking at his insides. Then the look was over, and Batman stepped past him and hauled the door open. "The police will be here soon," he said. "Leave now if you don't want them to find you."

Jason didn't move. What was going on? Batman just saved his life and complimented him, and now he wasn't even going to set the cops on him? This wasn't how it was supposed to go. The Bat was the bad guy here. Jason was supposed to kill him.

"Why did you save me?" he asked, and his voice sounded stupidly small and shaky.

"That's why I'm here," said Batman. "To protect people."

Rage boiled up again and sent Jason leaping to his feet. "You liar!" he yelled. "Stop saying you protect people! You only care about the nice people and the rich people! And then you just go and do whatever you feel like with the rest! I'm not a nice person, so why don't you just kill me then?"

Batman's mouth opened to say the same shitty line he kept saying: "I don't ki—"

"You killed my dad!" screamed Jason. His eyes felt blurry. He didn't care. He grabbed his knife out of his pocket and charged at Batman. "Mama Rosa told me! You put one of your stupid bat knives through his heart! I'm going to kill you!"

For a second, Batman didn't move. Shock flashed across his face, strong enough that Jason could see it even behind the mask. Then it was gone, and he was angry instead. His eyes burned as he sidestepped and grabbed Jason's hand and dug his thumb into Jason's wrist until the knife dropped from his hand and clattered on the ground.

Batman leaned low so his eyes were barely a foot from Jason's. "I don't kill," he said. "Mama Rosa is a liar. Meet me at the Sprang Bridge at 8:30 tomorrow night. I'll give you proof. Now get out of here before the police come." He released Jason's hand, then brushed past him, out the door, and vanished into the night.

Jason's wrist hurt where Batman had squeezed it. The back of his neck burned where the monster's spit had touched his skin. He leaned down and picked up his knife and put it back in his pocket. Then he looked at the dead monster with the curved boomerang knives through its eyes. Just like the ones that killed Dad.

If Mama Rosa was telling the truth. But why would she lie? Jason knew that was a stupid question as soon as it came into his head. He didn't trust Mama Rosa, not really. He didn't really know why she was training the boys, but it sure as hell wasn't out of the goodness of her heart. Why wouldn't she lie, if it would get her what she wanted?

Batman would lie too. Everyone would lie to protect themselves. But…but it couldn't hurt to hear what Batman had to say, right? The Bat had just saved his life. It confused him. Every time he thought he knew that that jerk in the cape would do, he turned out to be wrong. Every time he talked to Mama Rosa, he hated Batman. But every time he saw Batman, he suddenly wasn't sure.

He reached out and touched one of the batarangs. It felt cold. He grabbed it and tugged until it came out of the monster's head. The blood on it burned his hand, but he didn't drop it. This was what killed Dad.

Somewhere in the distance, sirens howled.

Jason shoved the batarang in his pocket and ran for the door.