Bruce scanned the information displayed on the computer screen while bats chirped and fluttered overhead. Normally, he found comfort in their presence. Not today. The information in front of him left him cold to the core of his being. He tried to view the results in a positive way, as Alfred suggested, but he found he couldn't. It was impossible to interpret the solutions as good when they indicated otherwise.
He rest his chin on his upturned fist as he pondered things. Options, he realized, were few. Luthor had his team of scientists working around the clock on finding a cure for what he termed the Walker Virus, but they were nowhere near a solution. And I will not allow Luthor to test his hypothesis that Kai is the solution to curing the virus. Even if Kai's blood did contain the antigen needed to end this virus, and he wasn't sure he believed that the boy did, he couldn't take the chance of him being used to create the army of Supermen Luthor wanted. Letting Luthor build an army of Supermen is just as dangerous as the Joker building an undead one.
"Is the Joker's Venom what is causing some of the undead to act differently from the others?"
He glanced at Dick from the corner of his eye. His face revealed absolutely nothing. Not that he expected it would. His poker face is almost as good as mine, he mused. Yet there was a bite to his voice that indicated he was anything but calm. Bruce understood since he wasn't used to being on the sidelines any more than Dick.
Least of all when the Joker was the one causing the problems.
More than anything, he wanted to pull on the cowl, stalk to the Batplane, and fly to Virginia to hunt the Clown Prince down. He fought his instincts, tamped down his frustration, and trusted that a call for aide would come when needed. It's not easy to separate the professional from the personal, though, he thought as he turned back to the computer. Distancing yourself from a situation that's as personal as this one is never easy.
Bruce learned long ago that disassociating himself from situations was the only way he could function in his chosen role. When things got personal was when they got complicated. Especially in a world where the line between good and evil could be impossible to find.
"Bruce?" Worry and frustration made Dick's tone sharp. "Is the Joker's Venom causing the undead to act differently from the others?"
"Yes," he confirmed with a slight nod. "The Venom is causing his victims to reanimate with higher order brain functions than those simply infected by the Walker Virus."
As if being infected with one was any better than the other. The Walker Virus caused them to reanimate as mindless drones who pursued one thing: food. The Venom caused them to reanimate with basic functions, but still in pursuit of the same thing as the others. There's no quality of life, he thought as he reached for his forgotten cup of coffee. They're still just as dead.
"I'm thinking the better question to ask here is when the Joker is exposing his victims to the Venom," Barbara said as she moved to stand behind Dick's chair. "Do the notes have anything to say about when he's giving them the Venom? And how?"
Bruce touched a few buttons on the keyboard and brought up the notes someone uploaded to the servers a few hours ago.
"According to this," he said as he scanned the information, "the Joker is administering it prior to death via injection."
"He's using a liquid form of Venom then." Dick ran a hand over the back of his head. "That's just great."
"He's giving it as an injection prior to death?" Barbara hmmed softly. "Well, that's not very typical of him."
"What do you mean?" Dick angled his head back to look at her. "He's still administering it."
"But before death," she pointed out. "Meaning they're already dying."
"So?"
"So, it's not his usual modus operandi."
Bruce felt compelled to say, "The Joker is not always predictable."
"It'd be nice if he was." Dick breathed out a heavy breath. "We'd know what he's planning if he was more predictable."
"The Joker is predictable by being unpredictable."
He reveled in his unpredictability. Thrived on it. Bruce figured out long ago that the Joker lived for two things: anarchy and chaos. Taking away his ability to create disorder and confusion diminished his power and reduced him to a non-threat.
"He doesn't always murder people the same way." Barbara ran a hand over Dick's hair. "But you can expect there are elements of one murder that will turn out to be similar to others."
"Is his Venom the official cause of death?" Dick reached for the cup on a cabinet beside him. "Do the notes say?"
"The Venom is not listed as the cause of death." Bruce leaned back in his chair. "It's listed as a non-lethal version."
"What is?" Her eyes met his in the screen. "As if I don't have a good enough guess as what is going to be cause of death."
"Blunt trauma."
He didn't elaborate. He didn't need to. They were both familiar with what the Joker could do with a crowbar or a wrench. They know how dangerous the Joker is. They've had more than their shares of run-ins with him. They've seen what he's capable of. Not for the first time, and Bruce had long resigned himself to the idea it wouldn't be the last, he found himself wondering if Jason didn't have a point. Maybe I should have allowed the Joker to get killed. Maybe this wouldn't be happening if I had put a stop to him years ago.
As always, he dismissed his thoughts. The reasons for why he hadn't killed the Joker still applied. It's not because it's wrong morally, he thought as Dick shifted beside him. It's that killing him would make us no better than him. Killing a killer did not reduce the number of killers in the world. It simply replaced one with another.
Just because we are in the middle of an apocalypse does not mean that we let go of the ideals that we have upheld for so long. No, those principles he stood for, fought for, and passed to his protégés still applied. They had to. They couldn't teach a better way to people if they, themselves, didn't follow their own example.
"So, this version of Venom," Dick murmured thoughtfully. "It's the non-lethal version, right?"
"Yes." He looked at him. "Why do you ask?"
"I ask because it's not the same chemical structure as his typical non-lethal version of Venom." His face went grim. "He's altered it."
"What do you mean by altered it?" Barbara frowned as she scanned the screen. "I'm not seeing what's different about this version. It all reads similar to me."
"Well, look at the formula's composition." Dick leaned forward to point at the screen. "It still causes uncontrollable laughter and their faces to get pulled into a huge grin, but there's something else he's added that is causing them to reanimate with more than their primal drives intact."
"What, though?"
"Good question."
Bruce scrolled through the notes in search of the answer to Dick's question. He sat forward when he realized that there was a crucial piece of the puzzle left out of her notes—the most important piece in fact.
"Hang on," he said. "The notes aren't complete. The Joker's formula is detailed, but the additive he added, is missing."
"Why would they leave that out?"
"Oh, I can answer why with who."
"Enlighten us then, Adult Wonder."
"Raya." Dick sat back and folded his arms across his chest. "She's keeping what that additive is a closely guarded secret."
Barbara's lips curved. "Gee, no clue where she might have picked up that particular bad habit from."
Bruce didn't offer a reply. There was no need in his mind. He knew what additive Raya was keeping a closely guarded secret. I just don't know where or how the Joker acquired it, he thought as the bats again chirped and fluttered overhead. But I will find out. And I will put a stop to it.
...
"Alexandria." Slade didn't like the expression on the kid's face. It was so grim, so set. Like someone about to go to war. He is going to war, he realized as a swirl of his earlier guilt returned to plague him. They all were. And the man leading the opposition is one who thrives on anarchy and laughs at fear. "We take everyone to Alexandria."
Slade could only think of one reason the kid wanted to take the Saviors to Alexandria. His mother is there. Excitement chased away any pain lingering from almost getting blown into the afterlife by the Joker's car bomb. Every nerve buzzed. Locked behind the walls of his heart, the serpent squirmed and hissed with anticipation. Soon, he thought as the snake slithered out to coil itself around his heart. Soon, I will have you in my possession.
Finding Raya and Rose was the start of what'd be a life spent in quiet solitude with his only surviving child. You thought you could hide from me, love, he thought as he glanced at the masked figure standing beside her brother. You were wrong.
A smile, the first true smile he smiled in months curved his lips. The future he planned while he searched for them was finally within his grasp. Getting a chance to know Rose was what kept him going as he tracked them across Georgia. His search brought him to a small farmhouse a few miles outside of Atlanta. There he found the remnants of the men Lex Luthor sent to retrieve the boy, Christopher.
One of the men managed to survive the massacre. Well, he amended silently, they survived long enough to tell me what happened. The serpent he kept chained up inside slithered to the surface when the bastard admitted they planned to take the kid and kill his dove, the sheriff, and his daughter.
The sheriff getting killed didn't bother him. The man was as good as dead once he caught up with them. He aided his dove. Sheltered her. Helped keep his daughter from him. For that, the man would pay. Much like Luthor's man did after the snake coiled itself around the bastard's neck and snapped it.
No mercy. No pity. No regrets.
Slade sent word to Luthor that he'd do the same to him if he didn't make it expressly clear that his daughter and her mother be returned to him unharmed. After searching the farmhouse and grounds for any clue about where his dove was heading next. He resumed his quest, stalking his dove across Georgia, South Carolina, North Carolina, and finally to here in Virginia. Somewhere along the way she split from the sheriff. Why, Slade didn't know. He didn't rightly care. All he wanted was his daughter.
Trapping Raya proved far more difficult than he anticipated it'd be. The woman had not only been trained by Batman, but she had that Quinn woman, Robin, and Red Robin all traveling with her. Taking on three of Batman's protégés was a bit of a stretch for even a man of his considerable skill.
While trying to snatch her and Rose from under their nose appealed to him, it was quickly decided it'd be nothing short of suicide to try. While Robin and Red Robin obeyed Batman's golden rule, the Quinn woman did not. Getting ripped apart by a pack of rabid hyena or clocked over the head by a woman who wielded a mallet with the same deftness Negan did his bat didn't sound particularly appealing.
So he waited, silently biding his time, knowing an opportunity to trap his dove would eventually present itself. His patience was about to finally pay off. He already had his daughter in his grasp. Soon, he'd have her mother. And there is nothing that Negan can do to stop me from taking her and Rose back to the Foundry.
The smarmy mouthed bastard would try, of course. Negan was under the misguided belief that Raya belonged to him. He'd just show him how mistaken he was. 'Ah, but she doesn't belong to you, either,' the snake whispered to him. 'You made sure of that when you failed to protect your daughter from the Scarecrow.'
He ignored the hissing serpent. He didn't need it reminding him of his failures. He was well aware he placed his feud with Oliver Queen before his daughter. 'Your refusal to set aside your vendetta with him almost cost you, the serpent said. 'If not for Oliver Queen and the Scarlet Speedster, your daughter may have gotten poisoned by the Scarecrow.'
He forced the hissing snake back into the dark caverns from which it slithered. He'd make up for his mistake once he had Rose and Raya safe in his Foundry. He'd take care of them as he should have. He'd keep them safe. Once I have them settled in at the Foundry, I will hunt down the Joker and put a bullet in him, he decided as people murmured and passed along what the kid said. The clown can't harm them if he's dead.
Permanently dead. Not just believed dead. Or maybe dead. No, this time, the bastard just be dead.
"Alexandria?" Negan all but purred the word. "You want us to go to Prick?"
"No," Christopher denied with a shake of his head. "I want you to go to Mom."
"She's with Prick." The ends of Negan's lips curled. "In Alexandria."
Elation soared through Slade at having Raya's location confirmed. His joy quickly soured when a new speaker spoke from the back of the crowd.
"The Joker is expecting you to make such a move. He has men on the roads leading to Hilltop, Kingdom, Oceanside, and Alexandria because he expects people to try to evacuate to somewhere safer."
It could have been any of the male members of the Justice League or Titans who spoke from the back of the crowd. Slade knew who that voice belonged. A thousand years could pass, and he'd still know it. The man was someone he'd never forget. A brother who betrayed him in the worst way imaginable.
Oliver Queen. The Green Arrow. He was here. His heart beat a hard tattoo against his rib cage. Fury ignited. Hate clouded what little reason he still possessed. Slowly, he turned to watch as Oliver made his way through the crowd. The serpent inside him slithered out from the dark recesses he banished it to earlier.
It barred its teeth, thick black ooze dripping from its fangs and causing every one of his nerve endings to pulsate with a corrosive mixture of anger and hate, regret and recrimination, grief and suffering. Finally, he could fulfill the promise he made all those years ago.
Finally, he'd avenge Shado.
"Why's he doing this?" A man asked from the back of the crowd. "What's this fella want?"
"To turn all of you into weapons."
"Why, though?" A woman with short white hair turned to look at Oliver. "Why does he want to turn us into weapons?"
"For a laugh." Soft gasps and murmurs greeted the kid's reply. People needed to know what they were dealing with. With who, Slade amended quietly. "That's why."
"The Joker is also behind the disappearances of your people." Oliver's eyes briefly met his. Warned him about trying anything. Slade swallowed his urge to shove his way through the crowd and grab him by the throat. Soon, he told himself. He'd have his revenge soon. "He's been taking them, dosing them with a toxin of his own making, and turning them into an undead army." Nervous twitters and angered mutterings greeted his words. "Two of those responsible are in custody. I apprehended them as they tried to carry off one of your members."
"Who?" A thin woman stepped forward. "Who did they try to take?"
"Sherry."
Negan released a stream of curses that grated on Slade's already fraying nerves. His fingers itched to pull one of the swords fixed to his back and slash it across the man's throat. He refrained simply because there were too many people armed with loaded weapons.
"Where is she now?" Another woman asked worriedly. "Where's Sherry?"
"Being treated at a JLA safe house. She will be fine after a few days rest." He looked over the gathering, his gaze pensive. Alarm cruised along Slade's spine. Something was up. He wouldn't be there if things were not far more dire than they thought. "Right now, we need to worry about getting all of you back inside where it is safe."
"We can't take them back inside."
"Why not?"
The kid exchanged a look with Oliver. "The Joker has planted over a dozen bombs inside. That's why I want to evacuate everyone to Alrxandria."
A frown puckered Oliver's brow. "Why don't you just take them to the Bunker?"
"Yeah, uhm." The kid grimaced. "Can't."
"Why not?"
"Robin got us locked out." Christopher dug the toe of his sneaker into the cement and averted his eyes. "That's why we gotta take everyone to Alexandria."
"Because only your mother can lift the communication order to get Batman to unlock it," Oliver guessed. "Right?"
The kid nodded. "Yeah."
"Well, it's a good thing your mother told me what the new password is."
"She told you the new password?"
"When she asked me to keep an eye out for Slade." Oliver's lips inched up into a small smile. "She had a feeling he'd turn up sooner than later."
Slade itched to wipe that smile off his face. He took a step towards him without realizing he had done so. The kid barred his way. He scowled at him.
"Move."
"No."
If Slade's patience wasn't hanging by a thread, he'd have been impressed by the balls the kid had. As it was, he wasn't in any mood to bandy words with an overgrown kid. He went toe-to-toe with Christopher, subtly menacing, openly intimidating. Silently telling him it'd be in his best interest to get out of his way. The kid merely firmed his jaw and squared his shoulders.
"Boy..."
"I'm not a boy." His eyes glinted with anger. "And you are not going after Arrow. Do you understand me?"
"Look..."
"You heard him," Negan rasped. "Now, step the fuck back from the kid before I beat the holy fuck fucking fuckedy fuck out of you."
Slade wisely backed up. He could take on Negan, the kid, and the Green Fairy by himself. Taking on them and fifty others with assault rifles? That was suicide. And there was one thing he was not: stupid. Still, he couldn't refrain from reminding Oliver about where things stood between them.
"I made you a promise, kid." He dropped his voice an octave. "Do you remember that? I made you a promise."
"I remember, Slade." His eyes lifted to his. "What's your point?"
"My point is that I am going to finally fulfill it." The corner of his mouth curled. "I am going to see how much pain you can tolerate before you will break."
"Do it then." There was weariness more than anger in his voice. "I'm done. I'm sick of your games. And I'm tired of always having to look over my shoulder and worry that you could be there, just waiting for the moment to strike at me or someone I care about."
"You'll be done when I say you are done." Slade hurled the words at his former friend. His supposed brother. "You understand me? You'll be done when I say that you are done!"
There was a white flash that blasted him into unconsciousness.
A/N: Hello, all! Hope the week has been good to you!
I just want to take this moment to give a special thank you to spnfandom8 for all the wonderful feedback they've given me. Each and every one of you who have followed/favorited and reviewed are deeply appreciated.