Chapter Ten

"Canary."

"I'm here."

"An officer just called in a sighting. Someone fitting Blockbuster's description was just seen entering a building on West 187. Building number 4748. One officer is on the scene and more are on their way, but it may be a few minutes."

"I'm two blocks away." Canary said. "I'm going in."

She twisted the accelerator and the bike shot forward. She saw the building and shot up on the sidewalk, screeching to a halt beside a heavily dented mailbox. Smoke was drifting from the back tire. She swung her leg off the bike and took off her helmet, looking around for the cop who'd called in the sighting.

A scream cut through the night and, above her, a window shattered. She looked up to see a body soaring downward from four stories up. A body wearing Gotham blue. It arced away from the building and came to rest in the middle of the road with a sickening thud. She thought about checking on him to see if by any miracle he was still alive, then realized time was a luxury she didn't have.

"Oracle, tell the cops to get here now! The situation's gone hot!"

From a side pouch hook to her bike, Canary extracted a two foot metal rod. She ran into the brownstone building, taking the stairs three at a time. The screaming continued, amplified by the narrow stairwell. Two distinct women's voices were mingling with a sound she could only describe as an angry bull. Other tenants were beginning to poke their heads out of their apartments to investigate what was going on. She pushed past an elderly couple and a strung-out teenager on her way to the next landing.

"Get out of the way!" she yelled. "Move it!"

"Isn't that Hawkgirl?" she heard one lady ask a neighbor. Canary groaned.

Looking through the railing at the landing above her, Canary saw one door completely ripped off its hinges. Plaster dust was beginning to settle. A chair slammed against the door frame with enough force to snap two of its legs before falling to the floor.

She made it up the last set of stairs in two strides.

Blockbuster was standing in the middle of the small apartment, clutching his head with both hands. His face was contorted in pain and he was roaring incomprehensively. Two women were backed in to a corner, a small dinner table between them and the behemoth. One she recognized as Helena. Both women were still screaming.

A large hole over the couch symbolized where a window used to be.

"Oracle, they're here," she said softly, then raised her voice to get above the din. "Back off, Desmond!" She pressed a hidden switch on the rod, releasing either end to telescope to form a six foot fighting staff. It wasn't a weapon she particularly liked using, but against Blockbuster, she needed every advantage.

He turned to the sound of her voice, his good eye blazing. Suddenly, he let out a long bellowing cry and charged at her. It only took him three strides to reach the doorway and swing one meaty fist. Just before he got to her, she dove through the door, under the arc of his swing. She rolled across the floor, using the staff as an axle, and ended back on her feet. She turned and fell into a fighting stance, the staff in both hands, crossing her body. Her leap had put her between the women and Blockbuster.

His fist connected with the door frame. Large pieces of wood and plaster rained into the hallway. The confused cries of the other tenants joined with the noise in the apartment. Blockbuster looked at the empty space in the door and then at his hand, as if he expected her to be on it, squished like a bug. Looking over his right shoulder, he saw her standing ready and slowly turned.

"Kill the girl and everybody," he said slowly and Canary wondered if he was talking to her or to himself.

"Not going to happen," she answered. A movement caught her eye and she almost struck out. It was the woman who'd been standing with Helena trying to run past her.

"Get back," Canary said, trying to grab her, but the woman was just out of reach and heading straight towards Blockbuster. "Are you nuts?"

"You're not supposed to kill me," the woman was saying to him. "I told you where to find her. I told you-"

Blockbuster grabbed one skinny arm and flung her across the room. She did two pirouettes before slamming into the wall and falling hard to the floor. He was still turned slightly and Canary swung down with the staff, connecting with his wrist. The tip of the staff snapped off. Blockbuster backhanded her. Canary went limp as her feet left the floor and she tried to roll with the impact as she fell bodily on the kitchen table. It upended and flipped, sending her to the floor. Plates and glasses crashed around her. She could feel the side of her face swelling with the force of his blow. Blood ran from her nose and split lip. A pocketbook narrowly missed her head as it hit the floor and spilt its contents across the small kitchen.

Then she noticed something else. Helena was no longer screaming.

The table had flipped away from the girl, leaving nothing between her and blockbuster. Canary could see past the edge of the table. She could see Helena's fists clenching and unclenching, the rhythm matching the girl's rapidly increased breathing. Helena's face was screwed into a mask of pain and anger. Tears were flowing freely.

"Stop it," Helena was chanting, growing louder with each repetition. "Stop it, stop it, stop it!

"STOP IT!"

Helena leapt at him. He tried to grab her but her jump took her over his head, her hand trailing across his face as she passed. His head snapped to the side and back forward. His right cheek had been laid open from nose to ear, with four deep, bloody groves. Helena twisted her body in the air and she landed softly behind him. Her feet barely touched the floor before she launched herself at his back, her hands slashing the air. He arched his body forward, bellowing in pain.

Canary got to her feet.

Blockbuster turned on the girl and tried to grab her but she ducked under his hand and lashed out above her at his arm. He yanked it back, yelping with surprise. Three cuts ran down his arm from wrist to elbow.

Helena's original chant had been replaced with a new one. "You killed her! You killed her!"

Blockbuster lunged at her again and again she dodged, leaving him with a new set of slashes. He lunged, she dodged, he yelped. Then as suddenly as it began, it ended.

Blockbuster had managed to grab one of her hands in his and was holding tight. His other hand was around her neck, lifting her off the ground. She was trying to loosen his grip with no avail.

"Kill the girl," he said to himself again. "Kill the girl."

Canary looked for a weapon. She started to move forward and kicked something, causing it to slide across the floor. It had fallen from the purse that had fallen off the table. She picked it up and thumbed the switch.

A sparkling blue ark crackled between the posts of the stun gun.

Canary ran forward and jammed the business end of the weapon into Blockbuster's neck, just above his spinal cord. She thumbed the switch again and Blockbuster went rigid. His fingers opened, spreading as far away from each other as they could. Helena dropped to the floor. The stun gun stopped buzzing, its timed charge over. Canary switched it on again. It took almost seven full charges before Blockbuster collapsed unconscious, the back of his neck charred.

Canary faced Helena. The girl was crouched, ready to pounce. Her eyes were strange, her pupils elongated.

Cat's eyes, Canary realized.

"Easy," Canary said, holding her hands up, palms turned to the girl. "I'm here to help. You need to calm down."

"He killed her," Helena growled. She flexed her in and out. Blood coated her fingertips. Her nails were stream-lined, pointed. Those aren't nails, Canary thought, they're claws. Sharp enough to cut through even Blockbuster's thick hide.

"Yes, he did," Canary said. "But he's out now. The police should be here any minute to take care of him. I'm here to help you."

"He killed her," Helena said again, but softer this time. Her whole body seemed to be relaxing, muscle by muscle. The girl blinked twice and when she opened her eyes, her pupils had regained their normal shape. Her facial features softened. When Canary looked at the girl's hand she saw the claws had retracted as well. Helena fell to her knees, crying. "He killed her."

Black Canary knelt in front of the girl and wrapped her arms around the sobbing teenager.

When Detective Reece ran in the apartment with a group of officers, guns drawn, both women completely ignored them.