Where in the World is Ginger Harrow?
Maxine Baker was anxious. She was anxious, angry and drenched. The rain hadn't been in the forecast for the evening, but strong harbour winds had blown it in. She could be dry, if she sat inside her beat up olive green beetle, but then she wouldn't be able to pace and that was the only thing keeping her sane. The car sat in the empty parking lot of the now defunct Newton Fairgrounds, and even in the rain the sound of the nearby Haly's Circus carried over and mocked Maxine, the lights obscured but visible from the big top tent.
It had been nearly an hour since her best friend Ginger Harrow had not shown up to meet them, her only other friend Holly Robinson lounged on the backseat of the car dry as firewood and twirling one of their handmade protest signs in boredom.
"Ya know the point of a protest is for people to see it Maxee." Holly purred, still spinning the sign over and over like a hypnotist's pendant; the words 'animals are not entertainment' drawn on in red permanent marker, with a doodle of a cat beside it. "Not that I'm complaining, last time someone threw their slushie at me. That was very uncool."
Max ran a hand through her shoulder length red hair and screamed in frustration, it was childish and probably looked ridiculous but she had to vent her frustration somehow.
"Woah calm down there animal girl." Holly added absently, as callous as ever. Animal Girl was a name with baggage, when she had first moved to Gotham she had been Maxine Frazier, or that is what she hoped people would accept. But then nosey Ginger Harrow had gotten curious, and it had only taken a few internet searches for the truth to come out. That Max was really Maxine Baker. Daughter of superhero and movie star Buddy Baker, better known as Animal Man. High school was high school and the teasing became relentless.
"Get off it Holly! I'm just worried." Max said, glancing at her phone screen again. No notification light, no reply. She resisted the urge to swipe and look at her wall of unread messages. "Maybe she just got caught up in homework?"
"And couldn't be bothered to send a text? Face it you've been blown off. Maybe if you actually invited us anywhere cool-"
That was enough.
"-you can go if you really want! Because you sitting around shittalking is making this whole thing nearly as pathetic as you're pretending it is!" Max yelled, a little louder than she intended, making Holly shrink back into the seats.
She didn't like her temper, her mother said it came from her father, a lot of things about her came from her father; her father who lived on the other side of the country now.
They sat in silence for maybe ten minutes before the girl finally opened her mouth again.
"You're right Max. It isn't like her to miss being one half of your dynamic duo, spiraling downward to become the most unpopular teenagers in Gotham, and she isn't answering her phone. This isn't normal." Holly recovered quickly, sometimes Max forgot she had grown up living on the streets of the Bowery, it took a lot to keep her down. "So what are we going to do about it?"
What was she going to do about it? Something. The specifics could wait. Rather than answer Max grabbed her keys from her pocket and opened the driver's side door. Holly punched air in triumph. "Yes! This is what I'm talking about. The mystery of the missing amigo. All good things come in packages of three! My money is that she fell asleep doing calculus what a bore!"
"I bet she messed up her calendar and thinks the English test is tomorrow and not Friday!" The two girls laughed together as Max turned the key letting the little engine that could sputter to life with a cough and a hum.
They didn't say much after that, not as they left Amusement Mile, tearing away from the promenade and leaving the circus behind them. She would rather stay, tear down the circus with her bare hands and send the customers, who paid to see animals let out of their cages to perform tricks, running off into the night. That is what her father would do, but he was fighting his own battles now and with the separation she could only watch on television or follow the news on her phone. Buddy Baker was a superhero and famous activist and here she was unable to get even her three friends together in one place.
From Amusement Mile they drove the long way, cutting along the edge of Crime Alley and into the Bowery. It would have been shorter to go through but everyone in Gotham knew that going right through Crime Alley was a coin flip; heads and you came out the otherside relatively unscathed, tails, and… Holly had lost her parents in Crime Alley, it was a place for orphans and statistics.
The other way out of North Gotham was using the highway from The Hill that bridged over the water and connected to the Tri-Gate bridge and then around Arkham Island and connected to Coventry. But a few years earlier the mayor had built a toll on the bridge, general maintenance was the claim, but in reality it was a way of keeping undesirables out.
It was a half hour later before they reached the East Side, still no notification light. Max flicked her finger across her phone opening up her recent messages. Hey Ginger where you ? Little worried. One tick. Unread.
It was another five minutes before the huffing car found a parking space beside a series of off-white scrunched up flats, one of which was the home of Ginger. Both girls climbed out and approached the chain link fence that was never locked. On it a sign said 'Beware Dogs', there were no dogs on the property but Ginger claimed to believe in the power of wishful thinking. Finally Max knocked, once, twice, three times, and then waited.
There was some shuffling inside, a chain was removed, a lock turned, and then the door opened. Standing inside was Miss Harrow, Ginger's mother, she had flaming red hair that was obviously dyed. Her name was another case of wishful thinking Ginger would say, normally while shaking out her curly brown locks and laughing. When she brought Maxine home with her natural red Miss Harrow had adopted her like a second daughter, the real ginger..
"Oh? Hello girls, a little late to be trapezing around the streets isn't it?" Miss Harrow blinked at them.
"Sorry to bother Miss Harrow, we were wondering if Ginger was maybe busy with homework or something?" Max began.
"She was supposed to come join us at Haly's Circus." Holly finished.
"The circus how exciting. But now that you mention it, no, she certainly wasn't busy with homework unless she went to the library after school. She never came home actually, I thought she was with you two." Miss Harrow replied, her brow furrowing like she was trying to fit two different shapes together. "I'm- I'm sure she just got caught up. Yes, a little caught up. Would you like to come inside?"
The two girls exchanged a worried glance before stepping into the flat, the first thing Max always thought when she visited was how plain everything was. Ginger hated being home, and it was because there wasn't a hint of personality in the house. There were photos and personal effects, but they seemed to be exactly where you would expect them to be. Nothing was out of place but it wasn't so perfectly ordered that it felt manic either. But if you needed a fork you would know exactly which drawer to open without looking, predictable. Miss Harrow kept the house spotlessly clean, and as they walked in she grabbed a little duster to sweep out the dirt from their boots. But stopped instead and stared at it.
"Miss Harrow, are you alright?" Holly waved at the nearly absent woman.
"A-okay dear, just taking a moment." She stared for another second and slowly began to sweep.
"We're going to go upstairs, wait in her room." Said Max.
Miss Harrow just nodded, looking intently at the dirt on the dustpan. The girls rushed upstairs and into Ginger's room, which stood in contrast to the house as even the closed door seemed to drip with personality. A collage made from magazine cutouts formed an abstract self-portrait of Ginger on the door, and the handle had splotches of glitter.
As soon as they stepped inside Holly jumped onto the bed and looked at Max. "Okay that was weird right?"
"Very!"
"Why isn't she worried about Ginger if she hasn't been home since school ended? She is a tight ass, she should be phoning the cops and making a big stink!"
Max didn't answer, she looked instead at the schoolbag leaning against the well worn desk that occupied most of the room. A disorganized splash of school books lay across it one open with a scribbled in writing pad beside it. Max bound across the room and grabbed the bag.
"Didn't come home? Then how did her bag get here?" She eyed the back suspiciously.
"She was wearing that this morning for sure!"
Dropping the bag Max sat at the writing desk, Holly fidgeted on the bed playing with a stuffed bear.
"Should we tell Miss Harrow?" Holly ventured.
"Maybe we should call the cops-" A light flashed, a notification. Max flicked her finger on the screen again, opening her messages.
Hey maxee, found something cool, meet me grant park. Dont bring holly.
Don't bring Holly. The thought gripped her chest tightly.
"What is it Max?"
"Nothing, I- I should go to the cops. I know someone in the city through my dad. But I need to drop you off first." Max lied.
"What? No way! I can come with."
"No Holly, the cops see you and they might not take us seriously." The words hurt, but there was enough truth in them. Holly grew up in the narrows, she had a record and Gotham PD knew her face. She might have gotten out but Gotham PD was not known for making a second judge of character.
"Fine. Home then, maybe I can call some people I used to know to look around?"
Max avoided her eyes as they walked out the room and down the stairs. "Yeah maybe that will help."
"Leaving so soon girls?" Miss Harrow called, friendly as ever. She sat on her couch watching TV. In one hand she still held the dustpan.
"Yeah, we actually don't want to stay out too late, we have an English exam tomorrow!" Holly didn't miss a beat.
"Well study hard then but not too hard."
Max just nodded and the two friends walked out the door and toward the car.
Maxee Ginger: I'm grant park.
Ginger Maxee: Across kane memorial bridge.
Maxee Ginger: Why aren't you here?
Ginger Maxee: Across kane bridge.
Maxee Ginger: Okay I'm there.
Ginger Maxee: Northeast on the interstate. Turn right second turn after Brentwood academy.
Maxee Ginger: There are just old houses out here.
Ginger Maxee: keep going you'll see my car.
Maxee BBaker: Dad, I know you're prob busy. But something weird is going on with my friend, I'm in Bristol second turn after Brentwood, near Slaughter Swamp. Come please.
It was still raining when Maxine climbed out of her car, and she was glad her hair was too short to stick to her face.
She was at the edge of the swamp, officially called the Cyrus Gold Swamp but known to the youth of Gotham as Slaughter Swamp, a popular location for all kinds of gruesome story storytelling. Even the original name had a dark history.
Her mind was wandering, and she was shaking slightly from the damp cold. Ginger's car looked like a series of boxes, hammered together, and covered with metal. The door was open, the engine running and the interior light was on. It didn't look like anyone was inside but she moved closer.
Peeking inside she checked the backseat first, the hair standing on her neck. It was empty except for a crushed can of soda and a handful of celebrity magazines Ginger collected for her art.
Max sat in the front seat and turned off the engine. Closing the door to feel safer from the outside. Ginger, where are you?
A notification light flashes.
I'm by the water.
By the water? She opened the door to the now pouring rain, pulling her jacket tighter around her shoulders. She moved from the side of the road toward where the dirt gave way to still water. The swamp smelled fetid, the rain would cause the waters to rise and runoff, replacing the tainted stillness with something fresh but that would only last a short while and then the new water would also spoil.
Lightning flashed in the sky, and the light was all she needed to see the shoes sticking out in the mud. They were pink and horribly tacky and exactly what Ginger had worn that morning. Her legs carried her with a burst of speed, feet sinking to her ankles in the mud with each heavy step.
Reaching the shoes where the mud sat an inch below dirty black water, Max could smell the nauseating decay from the plants that grew and died in the water, their bodies never escaping the closed ecosystem of the swamp. She grabbed at the shoes pulling them from the muck, but there was nothing else there, just empty shoes floating on the water.
Max held them tightly and looked around desperately for anything else. Then she wrenched her phone from her pocket, the notification light blinking. She didn't know why but she didn't want to swipe it now. But ankle deep in muck, alone in the swamp, what other choice did she have? Swipe.
Down, in the muck. Rot. Rot. Hurting. Rot.
She screamed even before the heavy hands of the thing that had snuck up; slithering through the fetid swamp, one with the rot, with the grey; grabbed her throat and shoved her head forward into the pitch waters.
The sound drowned in the water turning into desperate bubbles of air floating up to escape. Maxine tried to grab at the wrists of her attacker, but she couldn't see, she couldn't fight what she couldn't see.
The hands lifted her head from the water.
"Open your eyes lamb. See the great work below." It hissed in her ear, before plunging her again into the cold.
Something illuminated the dark, her eyes opened beneath the water and through the rotten matter that floated in the water she could see it, 'the great work' floating beneath deeper than the water should be were corpses. She couldn't count how many, the dark swallowed them. But it didn't matter, nearest her she could see Ginger, lifeless eyes turned grey. She stopped screaming, and with burning lungs opened her throat and let the water pour in.
Holly Robinson waited till she heard the footsteps of her friend move away from the car, if anyone asked they would say that she was someone who couldn't sit still for a minute. Assumptions were her tool, though in this case it hadn't been hard to trick her friend.
She knew Max had lied in the house, she saw her read a text and the sudden change in behaviour was obvious. Holly was used to being lied to even if it hurt coming from a friend. But she was more curious than anything else. And so when she had dropped her off at home, she had spun around the car and climbed into the boot. The lock had been broken years ago.
She didn't expect the drive to be so long, she knew when they crossed the river over Kane Memorial bridge but from there they could have gone anywhere from Bristol to Sommerset.
The car had finally come to a stop after a bumpy patch. And then Max had climbed out and Holly waited.
After a good minute passed she opened the trunk slowly glancing out in the dark, surprised to see just a gravel road, and thick foliage, along with the smell of turned water. Ginger's car being there was her first surprise but she rolled well with surprises, Max was sitting in the driver's seat like she was waiting for something. Did she know Ginger was here the whole time, or only after she got the text in the bedroom?
It didn't matter, and Max was moving. She climbed out of the car and half stumbled away from the road. It was now or never to follow her.
Hopping out she stepped carefully on the balls of her feet, Selina had taught her how to hide, how to stay quiet, it had been to steal back then, but it proved useful now.
She crouched over to the second car, using it for cover. Looking over the flat box-like hood she could see Max crouching in the mud holding something? Why?
Then something strange happened. The ground was mostly flat, a marsh of mud and pockets of water. There had been no one there, but rising from the ground was a shape, a person. Holly wanted to call out but Max screamed first and the figure pushed her into the water. Holly wanted to charge across the marsh but it seemed to be getting further away, or her legs were getting tired just looking at it. Everything was suddenly dull and grey and even her thoughts were sluggish
Why was she in a swamp anyway, it was a school night she should be at home studying. Like Max and Ginger, they would be at home studying. Not out in this swamp where everything smelled bad, rotten, rot, rot, rot. Like the skipping on record it played over in her mind, her legs carried her back to the little beetle. The keys were in the ignition. Strange that Max would leave her car out in the middle of nowhere when she was at home studying. Better take it home to her.
Holly turned on the engine and without a glance back, drove away.
Maxine Baker felt her lungs fill with fluid, the water wormed down her throat filled with the waste of the swamp, cramming into her lungs which heaved for air and only found more burning liquid.
She shuddered and convulsed and then went limp and the thing that held her so tightly slackened. It had made two sacrifices in one night. Lifting the girl from the water it looked over her form.
Unlucky for her that she had been so persistent.
"A nobody and there will be no body!" It laughed a hideous laugh and chucked her into the water, her phone falling from her pocket and lodging in the mud its notification light blinking. Curious the attacker picked up the phone and swiped.
Maxee, stay safe. I'm coming to Gotham. Love Dad.
With a toss the phone joined the corpse in the water.
They both sank, the phone plummeting while the corpse moved slowly inch by inch. Under normal circumstances, water would fill the lungs and the body would sink until its density matched the water and then float like a ghost, the decomposition would cause it to fill with gas and rise to the surface again. The other corpses sought the surface but water weeds had grown up and wrapped around their ankles holding them like an inverted butchery. But what lived in the water and now occupied Maxine's lungs did not belong in the shallows of the swamp, it belonged deeper and her body gained speed as the depths called to her. The others had been irrelevant, unwanted, unneeded, the kind of sacrifices made by mortals who thought the rot something to curry favor with.
But this girl was unique, her existence a series of strings pulled together by the parliament of limbs, they had intended her to serve them. And then they had abandoned her, left her to- rot. Such a fitting existence.
NO. It was but one voice among the decay, one in a chorus yet louder than most.
YOU WOULD DENY THAT SHE WOULD SERVE? The other voices echoed through the boneyard.
THE ARCANE HAS ALWAYS SERVED THE ROT. Came the reply, so individual, so far from the collective.
THE ARCANE IS WEAK, ONE REJECTS AND THE OTHER SERVES ONLY TO FULFILL ITSELF. IT GORGES ON THE ROT.
THIS GIRL WAS THE AVATAR OF RED, SHE WOULD BE A POISON. The lonely voice despaired.
WE ARE POISON. WE ARE THE END OF FLESH AND BONE, OF VINE AND STALK. WE WILL RETURN HER, BUT WILL NOT REVOKE THE FAVOR FROM ARCANE. ONE WILL DESTROY THE OTHER.
As decreed in the boneyard so it would be.
Nothing could join the grey before it became rot, and so the body descended, floating in reverse, descending impossible miles into the earth. At some point the water shifted to dirt, but it simply drifted through the earth as well. Small insects tore at flesh, roots grew and wrapped around bone. And then the insects died, their bodies joining her, and the roots in their quest for nutrients found poison and joined her too.
Where there was flesh now there was dirt, grave dirt, and it filled her mouth followed by the putrid waters. It was the stagnant waters that had killed her and now it forced its way back inside her lungs, expanding and shrinking forcing the dead organs to move again. Blood viscous and black crawled in her veins and pushed to her heart, and out again.
The water became familiar, less dark, somewhere her movement had reversed and now there was something above her, it was no longer endless water.
A hand plunged from the waters of Slaughter Swamp and grabbed at the soft earth desperate to never sink again.
Maxine Baker was reborn.