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Chapter Seven
Grayson was running faster than he had ever run in his life. Branches and brambles were scratching at him as he passed.
He could smell the fetid breath of a dog right behind him. The snapping sound of its jaws were mere feet away. The helicopter was hovering overhead, the sniper waiting for him to still so he could get a clear shot.
He wouldn't let him.
He grabbed a tree with both hands and spun around and kicked one of the dogs away. It went spinning away and took out another dog behind him. He rolled, a bullet whistling past his ear, and carried on running.
That move had given him about a minute.
Maybe.
He could hear the whining and snarling sound of the dogs behind him. They had got to their paws and carried on the chase.
He knew the geography of the place. There was a river up ahead. It would be swollen by the winter rains but fast. If he could get in there in he might be safe for a short time.
Oh no.
He could see blue lights up ahead. A police cordon. They had got there quickly. He wasn't expecting this.
"Grayson, this is Captain Bridges! Give it up!"
The voice, probably through a police speaker, echoed around him.
"Come on Grayson you've got nowhere to go!"
He had to turn right.
"Okay men, take him out."
Another bullet winged over head splintering a tree branch above him. He could hear a second one and then followed by a ragged volley. What the hell?
He rolled and got to his feet again. The spotlight illuminating him this time. Another bullet caught his sleeve and he could feel the heat of one past his leg.
He had miscalculated. The river was here but it was running through a chasm. Must be over a hundred feet down below. He could see the white foam of the river breaking over rocks. If he landed on one of those he was dead. A bullet chewed up the ground by his feet.
He could see a line of police men all pointing their guns at him.
"Are you resisting arrest Grayson? Are you threatening us? He's got a gun! Take him out!"
He had no choice. He jumped into the chasm, several bullets following him. If he was in his Nightwing suit he could glide down here and land safely where he wanted to. His prison issue shirt was not the same.
Calm down Grayson. Remember your training.
He could see the sides of the chasm either side and below the river boiling over several jagged rocks. Jeez. It must be too shallow here. He would die here. Broken on rocks. Just please god be quick.
He formed his body into a proper divers position and tried to use his acrobatics to aim at a patch of brown water next to a big rock.
How deep was it? Was it deep enough. One hundred foot dive.
Too late!
He landed with barely a ripple his body slicing into the water like a knife. He immediately flattened his body to slow his ascent into the murky depths of the water. He grabbed hold of a rock at the bottom of the river. God he was still alive! It must be about 30 feet deep here. He needed some luck. The river was a brown colour, full of silt and soil from further up stream. He let go and still swimming underwater swam with the current.
He could see a few bullets land in the water above him. The water was better than any bullet proof vest though as they lost their charge as soon as they landed. Could they see him, or were they firing blind? Why were the police shooting at one of their own?
Light from a spotlight, probably from the helicopter, gave the river an eerie glow.
They couldn't see him. How long could he swim underwater for? A couple of minutes maybe. He kicked out with his feet and using his hands on the rocky surface of the river bed pushed himself along. The current was helping.
Jeez!
He was nearly brained by a rock that jutted out in front of him.
Concentrate Grayson!
Concentrate!
Visibility was poor down here. Strangely the helicopter spot light was actually helping him out.
He needed to take a breath soon. He couldn't stay under here for ever.
He surfaced, grabbed a mouthful of air and glanced above him. The helicopter was hovering dangerously in the chasm. It's spotlight illuminating the river. He could see half a dozen cops looking down at the river. How had they got here so fast?
He dove down again and swam along the bottom of the river as fast as he could. He was getting some distance from them now. He was getting bruised from some of the rocks but he would take a few bruises over bullets anytime of the week.
He surfaced again. He was at least four hundred meters from them. They weren't looking at this patch of river now. He ducked down again and just let the current drag him down river. He tucked his arms over his head and his legs in to stop them catching or snaring on any rocks or branches.
Next time he surfaced the river had snaked around out of sight of the police.
It was cold.
He hadn't really noticed that at first but now he could take stock of it he was cold.
Where did this river go? Bludhaven of course but it was several miles out. It went through the Bludhaven National Park first. 40 square miles of parkland, forests and waterfalls.
Waterfall.
He started swimming to try and get to the side but it was going too fast. Where was a rock to hang onto when he needed it?
Swim Grayson swim!
He could hear a roaring sound. The water fall was about 100 feet high. He remembered being dragged around the park when he was child with Bruce. One hundred feet high and over 500,000 cubic meters of water a second. Alfred had made both of them go out to get some Father, son time together and not just getting out beating villains heads together. It had turned into one of those days though. They had just been strolling to the little cafe overlooking the waterfall when the Joker, along with his cronies, had decided to start selling explosive ice cream to tourists.
He tried to scrabble onto a rock. It was slippery with moss and algae and he couldn't get a grip. The current was getting stronger.
Could he survive this? If he was in his nomex, triple weave kevlar lined Nightwing suit he would give himself an even chance. He even had a rebreather in one of his pouches. And a grappling hook. He would just be able to raise an arm and send a hook skyward and swing out of this. Then another button press to summon my bike, car or rocket powered glider.
Don't think about what might have been. Be in the moment. Concentrate. You can survive this.
He took a deep breath just before the edge of the waterfall, concentrated and kicked off at the edge diving just to the edge of the waterfall. The water even on the edge was pounding him, forcing the air from his lungs, air he couldn't spare.
He tried to dive into the water but was pushed sideways. He hit the water hard making him cry out in pain. Making him swallow a lot of water.
The waterfall pushed him under the surface. His shoulder was painful and he couldn't use his left arm to swim. He had no air in his lungs. He was going to drown. Stop complaining and swim damn it!
He tried to push himself forward. It was very disorientating down there. Was he swimming down towards the bottom of the river? He couldn't see anything! His eyes stung. His lungs felt like they were burning.
Which was way up?
For gods sake which way is up!
He erupted from the surface of the river and took a ragged breath that sounded like a scream.
Jeez!
The current pulled him fast down the river. There was a tree hanging over the edge here. He grabbed hold of it and pulled himself up into the branches. He sagged and just tried to catch his breath and cough out half the river he seemed to have swallowed. He glanced up at the waterfall that adorned a thousand post cards. Its beauty belying its danger.
That was pretty intense. He started shaking as the adrenaline wore off. Real intense. He scrambled out of the tree and started jogging towards Bludhaven. He was still in his prison issue clothes, he would have to lose those quickly. There was a park rangers hut up ahead. Was it empty? The rangers were probably on patrol. He would have to be careful. There was a shiny padlock on the door. Didn't they trust anyone? Here they were miles from anyone and they padlocked the door. Really made you lose your trust of people.
Grayson walked to a side window. It was an old sash window. He got a strong twig and levered it carefully open. The lock on it was old and rotten and splintered. He crawled in and looked about the room. There was an old gas fired stove in the corner. The canister for it was next to it. Was there any food here? A cupboard in the corner held a few tins of food. He found a tin opener and levered one open. He hungrily ate a tin of frankfurters followed by a tin of peaches the juices dripping messily down his chin. A can of coke quickly followed. He sat down heavily in the corner.
Must get up. Can't allow myself to be found here. He had lost his shoes in the river. He looked in bemusement at his bare feet which were almost black by the mud. Hadn't even noticed they had gone! There were some old boots in a cupboard and a big waterproof great coat. They had all been there some time judging by the smell. He didn't care he just put them on and clambered out of the hut.
When he got his life back together he would have to give a substantial donation to them. At the very least he would get them some decent tinned food.
An hour later he was back in Bludhaven. He just looked like any vagrant. People were avoiding him because of the smell and that suited him just fine. He kept his head down as several police cars drove past at speed.
One slowed down and followed his pace for a while. He looked down at the sidewalk. His face was still muddy and his eyes blood shot. He looked nothing like he normally did.
"Sir!"
Was he talking to him?
"Sir, please stop."
He turned to face the car. Not someone he knew. Probably from the 57th precinct. "Yeah?" He said trying to sound casual. Were they looking for him? They must think he was dead surely!
"You got somewhere to stay pal?"
"What?"
"Somewhere to stay? You want we can call a hostel and get you a bed for the night? There is one two blocks from here. Get you off the street? You can get some food a shower some decent shuteye?"
"I'm fine." He carried on walking. Just his luck to run into one of the few decent cops in Bludhaven.
The car carried on following him. "The streets aren't safe. I would rather you spent the night. What's your name son?"
"Just."
"Just what sir?"
"Just mind your own goddamm business!"
"Easy sir, just trying to help."
He heard some chatter from the officers colleague and the siren came on. He held his breath but the car shot away up the street onto some other crime. Bludhaven was always busy for cops.
He had one of Nightwing's garages around here. He wouldn't go back to his flat, there was a chance it was being watched. His garage had his car in it.
He strolled down an old alleyway, the noise of the street life disappeared. A cat hissed at him as he passed. He didn't blame him considering what he smelt like. The garage door looked old rusty and warped and like a stiff breeze would knock it over. That was an illusion. It was a triple titanium reinforced door with a bio-lock for security. Even the Batmobile would struggle to get through that.
He stopped outside the door and glanced around. Silence. Nothing out of place.
Why silent? There were several windows facing down. Four of them boarded up as always and one with dirty curtains that were forever closed.
Something was wrong. He felt like he was being watched. There was a patch on the garage door that looked slightly cleaner. He placed his palm on it and the door hissed open.
Palm print sealed. Nobody else had access to it. The garage lights hissed on as he walked in. The door opened up into a large concrete room. His suits were lined up on one side and he had a small kitchen diner on one side and a bedroom and shower in one corner. His car was facing the entrance. It could be disguised so it didn't look like the powerful crime fighting vehicle it was. A bit like him.
The place didn't look like it had been disturbed. He turned back and could see a man standing like he had always been there. He was dressed in an ebony cloak that flared out into batwings. On his chest was a yellow embossed bat symbol.
"What part of legal did you not understand?"
he dogs will kill me.