Goddess: Descention

Book Three: Hunters

Part Six: Affliction

Prospice

I would hate that death bandaged my eyes, and forbore,

And bade me creep past.

No! let me taste the whole of it, fare like my peers

The heroes of old,

Bear the brunt, in a minute pay life's arrears

Of pain, darkness, and cold.

Robert Browning

(1812-1889)

New York City

It had been a long time since she had talked to Nick. En was what she called him, she used no names over the phone, Shay protected Nick's identity as vehemently as she did her own. He was surprised to hear from her, then angry and after she told him her situation he became concerned. She got that from his voice alone, she couldn't sense emotions over the phone, and she didn't need to, his tone spoke volumes. He was still angry and hurt that she left without a word, without a goodbye, but he would still help her. She hadn't realized how much she missed him until she heard his voice again.

He wanted to come to her but she wouldn't have it. She was still too close to that warehouse, and there was the trail of blood she left that could lead the dumbest cop in the city directly to her. No, they would not meet here, instead they agreed to meet on the Brooklyn side of the Verrazano. That way Shay would not have to travel through the toll booths on the bridge; all in black and bleeding; she'd be noticed.

Shay had to lift her left arm to the handle bar of her motorcycle with her good hand, and it hurt. She was worried she wouldn't be able to operate the clutch with the damaged limb, but once it rested on the grip she was confident the hand should function as it should. Shay peeked again out the doorway to make sure the area was clear and saw lights from police vehicles flash between the buildings, ready or not, it was time to go. Shay held her breath when she ignited the bike's engine but her old Indian was quiet. If the cops heard it's low rumbling echo they would not be able to pin-point it's location before Shay made her escape.

Shay and Nick planned to meet at Fort Hamilton Park, a small wooded area near the base of the Verrazano Bridge. Shay planned to skirt the edge of the Dyker Beach golf course on eighty-sixth, where she was confident there would be little to no traffic at this time of night. As she turned on to the street Shay felt optimistic in spite of, or perhaps because of the light-headedness. She was going to see Nick again. She was a loner but that wasn't her choice. She has been alone too long, she missed companionship, she missed talking to someone. Talk not interrogation.

The only conversations she'd had lately involved grilling people for information. Shay had spent the better part of the last two years investigating Niveus Noctis and their leaders Erica Zhong and Devin Spar. That was who Shay was after. Erica may be a leader of this new illicit organization but Shay knew Erica had a master pulling her strings and it wasn't Spar. There was someone else, someone higher up and it was he who Shay was ultimately after. He was master of many puppets. He, among others, was who her family had spent her childhood hiding from and it was he who Shay feared more than anything. But now, like an animal backed into a corner, whipped and tortured all her life; now the animal was ready to attack.

The only problem was, Shay had no idea who he was. She didn't have a name, a description, nothing. All she had to go on was Erica Zhong because she knew who he was, Erica took her orders directly from him. Shay didn't know what role Spar or Niveus Noctis played in his schemes and she didn't really care. Shay just wanted the man who gave the order to destroy her family, the man who threatened everyone she cared about. Shay would find him someday soon, and he would have the honor of being the first and last person that Shay would willingly, even happily kill.

Someday, but not today. Right now she had to focus, but it was getting harder to concentrate. The pain was starting to wear on her and she was exhausted. Just a little further, just stay focused a little longer. Shay could feel her heart laboring, she wheezed with every breath and she felt a rising sense of unease. As she approached the northern most tip of the undeveloped land the golf course claimed the unease turned to dread. She unintentionally slowed down as her mind was being drawn away and her body followed. Then a sudden agonized but silent scream blazed through Shay's brain and shattered her carefully constructed mental barrier. She lost control of her vehicle on the mercifully empty road and crossed into the oncoming lanes but directly ahead of her was a low metal guardrail and beyond it was a grassy ravine that gave way to a small copse of trees.

Shay's vision greyed and her mind trembled with the death throes of another. She had felt this before, many times and it was always a horrifying experience. Usually she could feel it coming, usually she had enough time to either leave the area as proximity seemed to be a factor concerning her empathic ability or she would find a safe place to weather the storm, but not this time. This death was too brutal, too agonizing, and Shay was already weakened by her injury and blood loss. As her mental walls fell under the onslaught her body went limp. Her mind struggled against the relentless compulsion to join a tortured victim in death.

Shay's motorcycle hit the guardrail head on and both she and it went flying in different directions. The old Indian landed several yards away from it's rider, it sputtered and coughed, then with a final quiet rattle it lay still. Shay fell on her injured shoulder and rolled down the shallow hill and then she too lay quiet on the grassy slope but her mind was anything but. It fought a battle that everyone must lose only once, Shay's mind fought a battle against death itself.

It was if a dark and terrible vortex that at first beckoned then relentlessly pulled at her with a howling wind. As a child when this happened she would collapse as her mind was overwhelmed but through the years Shay had trained herself not to give in to the terrible compulsion to sever her mind from her body and allow herself to be carried away by that shrieking wind but it was always a battle.

Shay's greyed vision darkened to black as the vortex grew and she felt the victim, the woman die at the hands of a monster. She briefly felt a vile exultation as the monster revelled in it's cruelty and Shay knew she had felt his kind before, and then all Shay knew was his victim.

Shay not only felt her die she felt the agonizing torture the unknown woman had just experienced. So brutal that she could feel the woman welcome the death that was coming. Then the chaos that Shay felt too many times before overwhelmed her as that dark churning maelstrom swallowed the soul it came for. Shay relived the dying woman's entire life from birth to this final moment and their minds, both inexplicably linked, writhed with it.

After the eternity of that moment the storm abated, and the woman faded from Shay's mind as she passed from this life to whatever lay beyond. Shay lay on the grass gasping and blinded. She was always exhausted after such an experience, but there would be no rest for her belaboured brain; she felt a cruel and twisted mind and she sensed it was coming closer.

Shay tried to move but her battered body would not cooperate. She could only lay there so weak that she could barely move her helmeted head. She could feel the blood from her wounded shoulder seep into the grass beneath her and her entire body pulsated with pain. Shay gritted her teeth and strained to move, she had to move, she had to because she felt that diseased mind descend upon her.

It was grotesque, this mind she sensed. It was saturated with a darkness, an evil that had lived inside this being for so long it had lost everything that even resembled humanity. It was dead inside, no empathy, no compassion, it lived for the brutality it inflicted. And felt frighteningly familiar. It approached her and she could feel it's anticipation, it's eagerness to inflict more suffering this night and Shay had all but fallen in it's lap.

Though her vision was still a blur of greys and blacks she could see the shape of it, a black silhouette that eclipsed the grey of the full moon. Man-shaped, but there was nothing human or humane about it. She knew it looked down at her, she could almost picture herself in it's eyes; another helpless victim. Shay tried in vain to move her hand, find a weapon, to do something but all she could do was watch it's shadow as it looked down at her, it's head tilted and Shay heard it whisper a single word… "Shiny."

Gotham City

Alfred had brought Master Dick home and had just finished tending the young man's injuries when he heard the unmistakable roar of the Batmobile as it returned to the cave. He left the man that Alfred viewed as a second son to recuperate in the medical bay and went out to greet the one he considered his first. He watched as the Batman exited the vehicle and left it on a huge turntable where automated robotic arms and hydraulic lifts would carry the Batmobile to it's home in the hangar bay with the rest of the exotic, high-tech vehicles.

Alfred could tell by the way the Batman moved that he was in pain and troubled, more so than usual. He was stooped, his walk slow, as if enveloped within the flowing folds of his cape he dragged the weight of the world along behind him. Perhaps not the world, Alfred thought, but certainly this city.

Alfred had been growing more and more concerned over the past several days, since the latest escapes. The incident in Arkham that night where the ignoble Dr. Crane had attempted to infuse Batman with a toxin that was significantly different than his usual concoctions was the beginning of this latest downward spiral of Batman's spirit. Instead of inspiring fear it stirred up his emotions; triggering a towering rage that almost caused him to commit the unthinkable. It almost caused the Batman to kill. Alfred himself was forced to intervene and Batman's rage was quelled but Alfred suspected it left a haunting residue deep inside his old friend, his secret son. It left a stain upon the Batman's quest, and his purpose.

Batman straightened as much as his aching ribs allowed him to when he saw Alfred watching him from above and walked up the short flight of stairs to the main floor of the Batcave. Alfred greeted the master of Wayne Manor and received a question in reply, "Is he still here?"

"Yes Sir, Master Richard's wounds were superficial as I said. He will be unable to walk for the next few days, but in a short time he should completely recover, from his injuries." There was more to it however and Alfred was loathe to mention it.

Batman heard the unspoken 'but' in Alfred's tone and stopped his progress into the main area of his headquarters. Batman turned to his oldest friend, "But, there's more than the gunshot wounds."

Inwardly Alfred sighed but outwardly he maintained a strict unruffled demeanour, his concern barely showed in his voice. "Yes Master Bruce, there is." Alfred calmly explained the sample of water Nightwing had collected during his adventure in New York. Alfred had tested it and determined that it contained the same enzyme that they found in the sample of narcotics that Batman had collected on the night of the Arkham escapes. What was worse however, was that young Master Richard was infected with it. As they spoke the mysterious compound was binding to the young man's DNA and there was nothing they could do to stop it.

Inside the medical bay of the Batcave Richard Grayson lay on a narrow hospital cot, it's top half raised so he reclined in a sitting position. His mask and costume were replaced by a white T-shirt and a blanket that covered his damaged legs. The first thing Batman noticed was how pale he looked and wondered if that was from the loss of blood or his contamination.

Batman filled the doorway of the small medical chamber and Dick could not ignore his presence. He looked toward his mentor and just like in days past he attempted to lighten the oppressive mood the Batman seemed to inspire. A wry grin crept across his face as he said, "I know what you're thinking…"

But Batman would have none of his levity as he interrupted, "You have no idea what I'm thinking."

His smile faded and Dick cleared his throat and tried a different approach, "Okay look, you gave me this case and I followed where it led…"

Batman took a step into the room and everything else inside it seemed to diminish by his presence, including the young injured man. The fact that Bruce had not removed the cowl was not lost on Dick. Batman was angry but he kept his tone level and calm, "I sent you in to watch them, to gather information, not to engage."

"I didn't have a choice, first it was that woman, then the bombs, then the infected water…" As the words tumbled out Dick inwardly winced, even to his own ears he sounded like a petulant child offering excuses.

Batman held up his hand halting Dicks monologue. "Start at the beginning, and tell me everything."

Dick began with the rumor about a meeting that he had heard, it was big and almost all the major criminal organizations in New York were supposed to send representatives. By the time he found out where and when it was going to take place he had almost missed it. He got there only minutes before the first 'guests' arrived. He entered the building in secret, he had planned to plant listening devices and then quietly leave and listen to the meeting from a safe distance.

That's when he saw that he was not the only one moving in secret in the dark warehouse. He went to investigate, that's when he noticed the bombs. He realized the meeting was a trap, there were more than a dozen devices planted all over the place and he had surmised that it was the dark figure he saw that planted them. He moved in to intercept, to quietly subdue, then he realized it was a woman and somehow she knew he was there. "I hadn't made a sound and it was almost pitch black in there, there's no way she could have heard or saw me coming but somehow she did." She had told him he should leave, that she didn't plant the bombs but that they were wired into the power lines and that she had to get to the electrical room to disconnect them. "I didn't believe her at first, I thought maybe she had to get to the electrical room to detonate them. That's when she kicked me, she was fast and powerful. She sent me flying backward, away from the nearest bomb then she disappeared. That was when all hell broke loose."

When the lights in the building came on the bombs detonated but they didn't have the effect Dick had expected. "There were so many of the devices planted the entire building should have blown but all they did was start a series of fires all over the warehouse." Seconds later the sprinkler system came on and Dick noticed an odd taste to the water and took a sample. "I don't think she planted the bombs, all they did was initiate the sprinkler system. Whomever set them wanted to infect the people there, I'm infected, but she must be too because she was still there, soaked like the rest of us."

Dick went on to describe the gunfight he heard and when he went to investigate he found her again. Moments later the gangsters found them both, but again she saw them coming, she pushed him out of the way taking the bullet that was meant for him. Dick managed to get them both to relative safety, then she turned on him. He described their conversation word for word, "Then she shot me. Twice. She could have killed me, I suppose, I'm sure it was more than convenient then, but she didn't, she just… left." When he finished his story Dick waited for Batman to respond but he didn't, he just stood there, looking at him.

Batman had heard every word Dick said as he described the events that took place that night but the one thing his mind kept returning to was the bombs and another protégé he had lost to a bomb-blasted building. He had thought he had come to terms with Jason's demise. He still grieved and always would, and he thought he had put the guilt behind him but somehow it all came back… It's all your fault…

He stared at the young man, pale and wounded and he knew the guilt that would befall him if Dick had been seriously hurt or killed because he had sent him there, he had put him in harm's way. Now Dick was infected with something that was completely unknown; and if he ever came into contact with the catalyst there was no telling what this enzyme was programmed to do to his DNA. Dick may be here in the cave but he wasn't yet out of harm's way.

Risks, they all took too many risks. The fact that Batman too took risks with his life was different. The chances he took were carefully calculated, thoroughly thought-out and it was only his own life that he risked. But them; Dick, Tim, even Barbara, and Jason, he should never have introduced them to this life, romanticized it, made it seem like a thrilling adventure, and that's all it was to them, especially Jason. He failed to show them the truth of it, the hard reality. In spite of the grilling, the training, the lessons, he still failed to show them that no matter how good they were, there were always risks too great to wager their lives against.

Ultimately he was responsible for whatever happened to them because what they did they learned from him and the risks they took were because they saw him seemingly take astronomical chances with his own life. They didn't see or couldn't understand the calculations involved, all they saw was the idealized outcome. That was why he felt responsible for them, even after they moved away as Dick had. And yet here he was, wounded and infected. At that moment the responsibility of it was overwhelming.

Dick was becoming uncomfortable under the scrutiny and felt he needed to break the silence. "I did manage to get a blood sample after she left, Alfred's got it. He said…"

Batman interrupted him, his voice was calm and even but there was a distinctive edge to it. "Did it occur to you to take her weapon away from her before she shot you?"

"She just saved my life, I didn't think…"

"-No, you didn't." Batman turned to leave the room, his mood was darker now and if he didn't leave he might say something he would regret. "Stay here and recuperate, you can help Alfred run analyses." He said over his shoulder as he quickly walked away.

Dick watched him go and tried to squelch his own rising anger. He had to admit that yes, he should have taken her gun, that was a stupid mistake. But he had a gut feeling that she wasn't the real enemy here, in spite of the fact that she shot him, twice. By his count she had three opportunities to let him die or kill him herself and she didn't. No, Dick felt they had bigger problems than her and he wondered as he watched Batman walk away, which of the myriad of enemies were the most dangerous: The ones out in the world plotting their schemes with guns, bombs and poisons or the ones within ourselves.

To be continued...