Chapter 5 – Curaré's Price

After school, Terry went to a part of the school grounds nobody ever went to and collapsed into a bench. He had fallen asleep in class and gotten caught. The teacher had set extra homework for the whole class because of that. Dana was upset with him for missing their date. He had been rescuing Inque from Melanie. It was a bad, bad day. He let his head hand back and shut his eyes.

"McGinnis. Here you are," Nelson Nash said in his obnoxious, insufferable voice. "It was a great stunt you pulled back there. Two essays, McGinnis. All because of you."

Terry opened his eyes and was about to tell Nelson Nash what an idiot he was when the latter's fist collided with his jaw. He realised that the guy had backup – his entire gang of jocks was with him – and that no one was likely to be around to intervene. Trouble, trouble, trouble.

They were all on him in an instant. There were too many for him to fight. He tried to find and opening to slip through so that he could get away, but there was none. Nash had been waiting for this chance, and now that he had it …

Something he could not see shoved Nash from behind. Immediately the whole gang backed off, facing the newcomer warily. Blood from a gash on his forehead trickled into Terry's eyes. He blinked, trying to clear them.

"Hey, chick," he heard one of Nash's cronies say. His voice was oily, the voice he used with pretty girls. "You're a pretty one. It would be a pity if we had to hurt you because you stood up for a loser like him."

This was followed by a yell of pain, and, "What the hell are you?"

Terry finally cleared his eyes, and looked. There were black tentacles flying through the air, beating Nash and his gang right and left. Ducking and dodging, they fled. In two minutes there was only him and Inque.

Inque looked infinitely pleased with herself as she watched the gang run. Her head jerked around to look at him. He quickly set his facial expression into one of relief, wonder and a little fear.

"You needn't look at me like that either," Inque said, sounding amused. "I'm looking for someone called Terry McGinnis."

Real relief coursed through Terry. She knew his name, but she did not know what he looked like, thank the gods for that. "I don't know him," he lied quickly.

Inque smiled again. "I seriously doubt that," she said calmly, eyeing his torso meaningfully. He glanced down. A thin line of red stained his shirt. The cut Curaré had given him had split open. His cover was blown.

"Can you stand?" Inque asked. She could not believe she had found Terry so easily. She watched as he got up unsteadily, scowling at the line of blood on his shirt. "You don't have to blame the cut. The moment you opened your mouth I knew. Let's just say I have a very good memory for voices," she told him.

Terry sat back down on the bench with a wince. "You heard everything the other night, didn't you?" he asked.

Inque tried to look innocent. "I thought I did quite a good job at looking unconscious," she answered. "I hope that window cost Wayne a bundle."

Terry rubbed a bruised spot on his shoulder. "If anything hits me anywhere for the next few days … drat Nash," he murmured. He glanced at Inque, then looked away quickly. "Thanks again, I suppose."

"I told you I was going to find out who you were someday," Inque said. She did not look at him either. He thought he heard her say, "But I never thought it would be so soon," under her breath.

"Inque." She blinked, as if jolted out of deep thought, and turned her head to face him. He didn't really know what he was doing, but he just leaned in and kissed her.

Inque nearly jumped out of her skin when Terry kissed her. She started to kiss him back, then reconsidered and pulled back, out of his reach.

"I'm sorry if you have the wrong idea," she said in a rush, "but I was really upset that night and … well … I wasn't thinking clearly … I mean it's impossible that … well …between us … so … I think I'll go back to looking for Deanna now." She jumped up and went over the fence, out of sight, leaving Terry sitting there looking as if she had slapped him – hard – several times.

Inque fled from the school as if from an impending tsunami of solvent. She had not meant for things to turn out that way. Why? Why did he have to try to kiss her? Suddenly a card flashed by her, embedding itself in the wall of the alley Inque was passing. Warily she went in after it.

It was the ace of spades. Around the symbol was scrawled a "ransom note". Inque scanned it. "Bring Batman to me and Deanna goes free. We hide in the abandoned old SynPlas factory. No tricks." It was signed "Curaré".

Inque dropped to her knees right there in the alley. How could they ask her for the one thing she would not give? She could, and with ease, but she would not. Between him and Deanna, how could she choose?

She looked up. The very guy in question was walking slowly past, looking fixedly at the pavement. But as her gaze fell on him, something seemed to make Terry raise his head to look into the alley.

"Inque?" he asked. "What's wrong?" He entered the alley and took her arm, pulling her to her feet. She followed the direction of his pull dumbly. The card fluttered out of her hand. He bent and picked it up.

That was when she shook herself. "No, don't read that!" she snapped.

Too late. He had already read. "So that's what she wants," he mused. "I'll meet you here tonight, right after sunset."

Inque looked at him, then dropped her eyes. "You're crazy."

"You mightn't like him very much, but Bruce Wayne has a lot of good tricks up his sleeves." His fingertips brushed her cheek. She stiffened, and he pulled back as if burned. He got up and left, taking the card with him.

Inque suddenly felt very, very tired. Somehow she made it to Deanna's deserted apartment. She lay down on the bed and fell asleep.

She sat up. The sun was setting. Her vision misted. Terry entered her thoughts again. She felt a bead of perspiration trickle down her face. Perspiration? She began thinking of the time when they had been adversaries. Even then, when she had hated him, she had been attracted to him, too.

"Right after sunset …" she murmured. Then it struck her. The sun was setting. She had noticed it without processing it the first time. Bruce Wayne might come up with a plan, but he did not know what Curaré planned. None of them did. Any plan made without prior knowledge could fail. It was a risk she refused to take. The apartment was empty before anyone could say "fool".

Without waiting for the sun to set completely, Terry donned the Batsuit and left Wayne Manor. The information Bruce had gotten … Melanie had brought a scimitar to an underground electrician to be installed with electrocution micro-wires. The information came from a bug he had attached to her sleeve the other night. He happened to know just how badly electricity affected Inque.

The sun disappeared about two minutes before he reached the alley they were supposed to meet in. For ten minutes he waited. Then he realised Inque would not be late by so much where Deanna was concerned. There was only one alternative – she was going to try to rescue Deanna by herself. Muttering a profanity under his breath, he rushed back to the Batcar.