Of the seven men who had made it to the roof, only one was still standing. One would be enough.

Tom was lying at her feet, shot through the lung, fighting hard to pick up his weapon and defend her.

"Lie down, Tom," she said. "You're done."

"Not…finished…"

"Listen to the lady." The man kicked Tom's gun away and put his own to the back of Tom's head.

"Hold it! Is this how Falcone operates, shooting a guy in the back when he can't get up?"

The sound of the gunshot shattered the night.

"Didn't shoot him in the back. I shot him in the head."

Trembling, she raised her gun and pulled the trigger once, twice, three times. She was out of bullets and they both knew it.

She couldn't tear her eyes away from the spreading pool of blood, brains, and skull fragments that was—had been—the only man she could trust. In that pool she saw Emily, her dearest friend, dead because of a youthful mistake and good intentions. She saw her father, dead because he had gotten just a little too powerful in a business that didn't look kindly on competition. She saw her mother, dead because she had finally fallen in love after seventeen years of marriage. She saw her reckless young cousin, Jay, dead in a hospital bed because of information he couldn't have communicated to anyone, anyway. She saw her father's brother and his wife, Arnie Stromwell's own niece, dead for God only knew what reason, maybe even just an accident. She saw Jonathan Crane, not dead but surely destroyed by her own hand, damaged more than justice should have allowed. She saw Lexy, who would be alone now, and would never have another chance at what she wanted most, the same thing Al had wanted once: a normal childhood. A normal life.

Four times. Five. Six. He knocked the gun out of her hand.

A normal child who would never be.

Should have stayed in school, Alice.

A blow sent her flying, to land on the edge of the roof.

Could have been a doctor.

He stood over her, smiling. The mouth of the gun looked as big as a grapefruit. Why did that seem to have meaning?

Could have done something good with your life.

"You got any last words, Little Al?" Mocking. Snarky. Son of a bitch.

"Yeah." Behind her back, her fingers closed around Lucky's handle. "Tell Falcone…" she whispered. He leaned in closer to hear her. Looked past her, down at the street.

"Hey…there's a kid and a cripple boosting my car."

Lexy?

He raised his gun to shoot at the odd pair of car thieves. He only had time for a single shot before she flipped open Lucky and buried it in his throat.

"You don't mess with family, you son of a bitch."

She shoved him away from her, over the edge of the roof.

Escape, Lexy. Run away from all of this. Don't ever let it catch you.

In a minute, she would get up and run. In a minute. Just as soon as she caught her breath.

She was still lying on the edge of the roof when the cops found her the next day.

--

Outside. Fresh air for the first time in months, and he couldn't smell it. He wanted to tear off his mask…but it was too soon.

Lexy took hers off. Fool, fool. Could she make it any easier on him?

"There's a car," she said. "Should I hotwire it?"

"Do you know how?"

"Theoretically."

She smashed the window and opened the door. He readied his can of fear gas. Driving with broken legs wasn't going to be easy, but it was better than walking. He didn't have to get far.

There would be no pain for her, and only a second or two of fear. It was a better fate than he had granted to most of his associates. She would survive, and he would finally be free. Alone.

The engine came to life. Lexy cheered.

"You've done well, Lexy." She ran around to the passenger side of the car, where he was waiting. "You've done everything I could have asked and more. Thank you."

She hugged him.

Scarecrow raised the spray can.

"How could I not help you? That's what friends are for."

He hesitated.

Friends?

She let him go and saw the can pointed at her. A look of fear crossed her face, followed by hurt.

"Jonathan? Are you going to gas me?"

His finger eased off the trigger.

"No, Lexy. I want you to put this in the car where you can reach it easily. If we run into trouble, I don't want my partner unarmed." She smiled at him.

"Oh, Jonathan, I knew Al was wrong about you." Her smile...was heartbreaking. He smiled back, uneasily, but not without true emotion. "Let's get you in the car." Fighting gravity, she lifted him with both arms and slid him out of the chair. This time, he was strong enough to help her.

A single gunshot from the roof made them both jump.

"That's Al," Lexy whispered. "She can hold them off, can't she?"

"With Tom to help her? Of course she can." She dropped him on the seat and bent down to get his legs inside the car.

A second gunshot. Lexy stiffened with a gasp of surprise. The Scarecrow grunted in pain as the bullet punched through his body. He looked down at his right side, where a circle of red was growing.

Ricocheted off a rib. Broken. He felt it stabbing him when he breathed. Hurt. Oh, it hurt.

Lexy was hyperventilating.

"Somebody s-sh-shot…"

"It's nothing—drive."

Something fell from the roof, landing with a crack and a splash like a water balloon filled with custard. He couldn't see what it was, but Lexy confirmed his guess when she looked at it and started to scream.

"Don't panic," he said. "I need you." Sobbing, she got in the driver's seat and put on her seatbelt. "Thompkins Clinic…Park Row…can you…"

"I know where it is."

"Good." He pressed his hands against the wound, trying to stop the bleeding. "Put your foot on the brake…now put it in gear…D for drive…now headlights…there…hit the gas…"

She stomped down on the gas pedal, pressing it all the way to the floor. The car took off like a rocket, tires squealing. Lexy cried out in fear and slammed on the brakes. His head hit the dashboard with a crack.

She'd never have handled manual, he thought before he blacked out.

He opened his eyes sometime later and looked over at Lexy. She was clutching the wheel with her left hand, hugging herself with her right. Tears were streaming, unchecked, down her face. She was deathly pale, and her eyes looked glazed.

"Lexy…no time…for shock," he managed before the darkness claimed him again.