Terry knows it will take a while for him to decide how he feels about Natalie's stunt – whether it was stupid, brave, schway, or what – but as she said, it worked. Barbara, Kitsune and Melanie can certainly handle the car on their own, now that there isn't a hostage inside to worry about. He peels off to the side, going at a right angle to the course of the black car. There should be a safe place for him to put Natalie and get the handcuffs off her…
He hears a whoomph sound – the muted sound of something bursting into flame – somewhere uncomfortably close behind him. A painful burst of heat flares in the area of his left shoulder, and the acrid smell of burning circuitry fills his nose. Natalie emits a horrified gasp. Over the transmitter he can hear Wayne's alarmed "What's going on?" As he goes into a wild downward spin he manages to connect all these sensations into a coherent chain: I've been shot. Someone in the black car finally scored a hit on him and melted his left wing.
There's a flat rooftop about a meter and a half below him. He folds his wings, drops Natalie – praying that he will live long enough to apologize to her for it – and turns off his boot jets, which will not help him now. They aren't strong enough to keep him in the air without wings. His trajectory takes him over the edge of the roof. Now he's headed straight for the front of a red-brick building across the street. Terry's first thought is to twist around and fire his grappling hook so that he can use it as an anchor, but he remembers that he already used and detached the hook when he boarded the black car. The next few seconds, though they pass with terrible speed, are turned into nightmarish eternities by Terry's realization that all he has to save him is luck.
He brings his arms up in front of his head to protect it just as he hits the wall. A nova of pain explodes in his skull; afterwards he has brief, dim impressions of falling, rubble, dust, and another shock of pain that cascades through his entire body.
Then darkness.
~***~
Although Mel's way behind, Tama's right up on the tail of the black car now – she can't accelerate as fast as it can, but she can match its top speed. For a while, anyway. The police cruiser is still flying above it. Since it's at its limit as far as engine power goes and it is below the level of the surrounding rooftops (and it will be even more so, when they get out of this ghost town and into the more built-up part of Gotham), Tama and the cop car are really cutting down on its options. Maybe, now that Natalie's safe, they can force the damn thing down.
The guy in the backseat takes one last shot in Batman's direction. Tama doesn't think anything of it, since they've been missing him so far, but then she hears Mel's horrified gasp over the transmitter. "Batman's been hit!" she announces, her voice brittle with panic. Tama feels cold fear rise in her stomach and tries to push it down. "He dropped Natalie on a roof," Mel continues. "I think she's okay…"
Alex cuts in. "Go make sure. Tama, you stay on the car."
"You bet," Tama says. "I'll get the bastards down one way or…"
At an intersection the black car makes a sudden right turn to get out from under the police cruiser. Tama swears and follows it. The cruiser corrects its course, too, but not in time. Fortunately for Tama, the black car had to loose some speed to turn – and she can make it up pretty fast. She holds her staff in both hands and twists it so that a small blade pokes out of the upper end. With a malicious grin she swoops below the black car and rakes the blade on the staff along the bottom, producing a horrible metal-on-metal grating noise. Sparks and flashes of electricity play about the tear in the car's bottom as Tama gets out from under it.
Now it's losing altitude fast – it won't crash, but it's going to have a very bumpy landing. Tama and the police unit both "escort" it to the ground. Once it skids to a stop, Tama waits in front of it, hovering on her board, staff at the ready. The cop unit behind has its guns trained on the black car, and Tama can hear approaching police sirens.
The two front doors and the back door open. The scary gray-suited guy, the soldier and the goon get out slowly, with their hands in the air. Two women with blasters at the ready disembark from the GCPD unit. She recognizes one of them as Police Commissioner Barbara Gordon – which is a pleasant surprise. Gordon gives Tama an approving smile before turning a baleful glare on the bad guys. "Put your hands on your heads, gentlemen. Slowly."
A few more police cars arrive as Barbara reads the goons their rights. Tama figures it's time for her to go – she's worried about Mel, Natalie and Batman. Her ascent from the ground is followed by the fascinated eyes of the policemen who have just gotten out of their cars to apprehend the three culprits. Once Tama's attained sufficient height, she salutes them and flies off to rejoin her friends.
If they're okay, she decides, this will officially be a good night.
~***~
Melanie lands on the roof, folds her wings and runs toward Natalie, her stomach knotting in panic. She can hear the roar of the black car over the transmitter, since she's getting audio input from Tama's sensor pickups. "Alex," she says, "Disconnect me – just watch Tama."
"All right," Alex says. "Just signal if you need me again." The background noise from the car chase is suddenly silenced as Melanie is taken out of the communications link. If the worst has happened to Terry – no, Batman – she doesn't want Alex to see it for himself, or to know her reaction.
Natalie, at least, is all right; she's managed to get herself into a sitting position. But Melanie is anxious about Batman, and can't help but wonder if he's dying right now, even as she…No, she has to take care of Natalie first. That's what he'd want her to do. "Are you okay?" she asks as she kneels down next to Natalie and gets a lockpick from her belt. She gets to work on the handcuffs.
"I'm okay. Where's Batman? What happened to…"
"Let me take care of you first." Her eyes flicker to the building across the road, and she feels sick when she sees the damage his impact caused. He must have been going pretty fast…but the suit had to have protected him…but could it stand up to…?
She gets Natalie's handcuffs off, then the shock collar around her neck. Natalie stands up and nods. "Melanie," she says quietly, "I want to warn you. He might not be…"
But Melanie isn't listening. She's already running toward the edge of the roof, unfolding her wings again. Melanie does a graceful dive off the roof and glides down to Terry's side, too distracted by fear to correct 'Terry' into 'Batman.' He's lying facedown on the sidewalk, surrounded by settling dust and a few bricks that he took down with him when he hit the building. Melanie kneels down next to him and carefully turns him over and cradles his head in the crook of her left arm, praying that she will find him breathing and alive.
One of the ears on his cowl is broken, and red circuitry shows through the torn fabric around it. Melanie assumes that the cowl works the same way hers does. She takes hold of it at the base of Terry's neck – fortunately, the nanoseals that fuse it with the rest of the suit detach at her touch – and pulls it over his head. She doesn't know how he'd feel about that, but she already knows who he is, and if Natalie manages to see him from the roof, well, she's not going to tell anybody.
As the cowl comes off he twitches and takes a ragged breath of air. Melanie is relieved, but only a little; the sight of blood running from a wound near his right temple and matting his hair starts her trying to calculate the extent of his injuries. "It's okay," she whispers, trying to reassure herself as well as him. "Listen to me. Try to stay awake," she says, surprised at the calm in her own voice – surprised, in fact, that she can speak at all.
Terry's eyelids flutter open, but he groans and shuts them again. Melanie doesn't know what to make of his labored breathing, which may just be from intense pain or a bruise or break in the ribs. She doesn't have any idea what to do at all, except stay with him until help comes.
The soft whine of jets startles her. She looks in the direction of the sound, up and to the left, and sees a sleek black shape descending towards her from the air. Melanie experiences a moment of panic before she realizes that it's the Batmobile. It touches down slowly about two meters away from her, its idling engines whirring softly. The canopy lifts and slides back to reveal a cushioned seat and a cockpit full of red lights.
Then a speaker-carried voice issues from the car. "Is he all right?" it says. The deep, slightly gravelly voice is familiar, but Melanie can't quite place it.
"I don't know," she replies, loud enough for the owner of the voice to hear her over the engine. "His head's bleeding and he's having trouble staying conscious." She bites her lip to keep back the question of what should I do?
"Can you get him into the car?" the voice asks.
"I'll try," she replies, and turns to Terry. His eyes are slightly open – he's conscious, if only just. "Did you hear that?" she asks, hoping that he can understand her.
"Yes," is his strangled reply.
"Do you think you can stand, if I help you?"
"Maybe," he says between gritted teeth. "Just…slowly."
"Okay. Get ready," Melanie says. She carefully shifts her grip on him, gets his right arm draped about her neck and her left arm under his shoulders. The other arm goes around his waist, even though it makes her terribly self-conscious. She slowly maneuvers him into a kneeling position, then gets him to his feet. Their difference in height makes it easier for her to act as a support. Despite her help, Terry struggles with every step they take towards the car, and she has to balance for both of them.
At last they reach the Batmobile, and Melanie carefully maneuvers her charge so that he's standing parallel to it. The problem is that this car doesn't have normal doors – the sides are low, and the vehicle's on the ground, but she's going to have to lift him. Even with the strength amplifiers in her suit it won't be easy, since she's smaller then he is.
"We're next to the car now. I'm going to lift you in," she warns him. He's still standing, but if he hears her, he's not giving any sign of it. Melanie gets one arm behind his head and the other behind his knees, then lifts him off the ground. Although he isn't as heavy as she expected, thanks to her suit, he's still an awkward burden to carry. She's barely able to lean forward far enough to place him in the cockpit's padded seat.
As soon as she withdraws her arms, a restraint harness springs from the seat and secures him. Terry, his strength and willpower drained by the agonizing walk to the Batmobile, loses consciousness again, and his chin droops onto his chest.
"Is he going to be all right?" Melanie asks. She feels numb inside, burned out by fear, and her words sound numb and flat.
"He will. I promise," the voice says with conviction. Melanie tries to let it reassure her, but it doesn't.
The canopy begins sliding forward again, hiding Terry in shadow and finally obscuring him from view. Melanie steps backward as it slowly rises into the air, doing a cautious 180 degree turn. She expects it to blast off – maybe because it looks fast even when it's standing still – but instead it moves slowly, for the sake of its passenger. For some reason Melanie finds this very unnerving.
As the Batmobile departs it fades into transparency, then becomes completely invisible. It must be a cloak. She strains to hear the sound of its engines, but she can only hear distant police sirens and the beating of her own heart.
Melanie knows that she should go back to the roof and help Natalie down right now, but for several moments she can only stand still and watch the empty, starless sky.