Chapter Thirteen: Murder

Quick Sticky: Enjoy this chapter and I promise that NEVER LEAVE will be updated soon!

Morning came too quickly for Mark Logan, he had to take his dead wife back to the village and give her a proper burial. He knew what he had to do but his body just wouldn't move. He had failed, failed miserably, and now his beloved wife was dead. Just when she had needed him to pull through, he had failed her.

He frowned, considering his dilemma, he couldn't carry little Marie and her dead mother at the same time. He sat beneath a tree, cradling the baby while he continued pondering what he should do next. He turned as he thought he heard footsteps approaching.

Looking up, he saw a young woman approaching him. She seemed startled at the sight of him; then she gasped in horror at the sight of his dead wife. "What happened to her?" she asked in shock.

"She died giving birth to my baby girl," he replied sadly.

"What's your name?" the young woman asked him.

"Mark Logan," Mark replied quietly.

"Rita Farr," the young woman replied.

"You look familiar, I think I've seen you before," Mark said to her quietly.

"I been in the movies a few times, but that was awhile ago," Rita said quietly. "But your face looks familiar, aren't you a scientist?"

"Yes, I'm the founder of Logan Estate Genetics Research Facilities," Mark replied. "You've probably seen me on the news; I've just had a breakthrough in finding the link between humans and animals."

"Oh yeah, I remembered that, caused quite a stir in the States," Rita said smiling sadly. "I'm sorry about your wife." She put a hand on his shoulder comfortingly.

"Thanks, Ms. Farr, could you help me with something?" Mark asked.

"Yes, of course!" Rita offered quickly. "What would that be?"

"Could you carry my baby, little Marie for me while carry her mother?" Mark said as best he could; forcing the words out of his mouth.

"Yes," she said in a reverent tone of voice, "of course I will." Mark handed her the baby. "Did you name her after your wife?"

"Yes," he replied. "It was her last request before she died."

"So where are we going?" Rita asked.

"Back to the village," Mark replied. "Do you have a jeep or some kind of vehicle with you? It would be a Godsend if you did."

"Yes, I do have the jeep with me," Rita replied. "We'll get back to your village quicker that way."

"That's good. Where did you get it?" he asked curiously.

"I've been in Upper Lamumba filming a movie. Thank God for the director of that movie, he loaned it to me."

They climbed into the jeep and she gave him the keys as he started up the engine. "I have a question for you Dr. Logan."

"What would that be?" he asked, curious about his newfound savior.

"I have been exposed to some strange chemicals recently, I don't know what they are, but they have caused my body to change," Rita said quite matter-of-factly.

"Change, like a mutation?" Mark was impressed, he had heard theories of genetic mutation, even Gar was a success story involving mutation, but he considered mutation to be a rare happening. Until now, as he stared quietly at Rita, he was becoming more and more interested in what she had to say.

"Yes, in fact I'm surprised I've actually managed to keep my form at my normal size for all this time. Usually I start shrinking and expanding like crazy and I can't stop. Maybe all that concentration I've been doing is paying off."

"I guess it is," Mark smiled, continuing to drive the jeep towards the village. They drove for a few more hours, it was nearing lunchtime and to Mark's dismay, he didn't recognize any of the landmarks so he had to stop to try and regain his bearings in his surroundings. "I'm sorry I can't help get you there," Rita said sadly. "Why don't you bring her back to the States when we return…so that her family can say good-bye."

"But my son, I told him to go to King Tawaba, the leader of the village, I need to go get him," Mark protested earnestly. I can't just leave him here!"

"Do you trust this King Tawaba person?" Rita asked.

"Yes, I do. I trust him more than I trust a lot of people," Marked replied.

"Then I'm sure your son shall be just fine. Besides, it would be good for the rest of your family to know about what happened to her. Not that I'm advising you to abandon your son, it's just, to get the body back to the U.S. for a funeral would be appreciated by her family, it would be very hard on your son to be there."

"I know, it would break his heart," murmured Mark. "He already thinks I'm dead."

"He does?" Rita asked. "So what will you do? I didn't know that when I suggested—"

"No need to apologize Ms. Farr, you have good intentions," he gave her a smile. "But I think I will bury her here in Upper Lamumba." He continued grinning. "You see Rita, my wife wasn't very happy about leaving the States when I first told her of my plans to come here and do research. But after awhile of living here, she grew to love this place. It was her second home, and I think she would have wanted it that way."

The grin lingered on his face, it was the first smile he had given anyone since Marie died. "So, how's my little girl doing?" he asked Rita who was holding the baby in her lap.

"Your little Marie is an angel, but she's going to need to eat soon. She cradled the baby soothingly. "I honestly don't know how she's going to eat anything I have no parenting experience."

"I understand. Do you remember where your party was at? Those people you were with?"

"Oh yes, I'll show you where they are. They're probably looking for me anyway." Rita gave him a quick smile. "Do you have a map with you, by chance."

"Unfortunately no, I'm getting back to the village on memory basis only," Mark admitted sheepishly.

"Well, this terrain is starting to look somewhat familiar," Rita said as she looked around. "Is that a campfire?" she asked.

"Let's hope so," answered Mark as he started up the engine again and began driving towards a distant speck of light. Drawing nearer to it, they could make out the faces of people. They weren't the two men Mark had seen earlier, they were different and seemed to recognize Rita as she began shouting.

"Hey, could you help us here," she shouted. "I need some help with this man's baby!"

People ran up to her, one of them looked at her. "Rita, where have you been? And who's this?" he saw Mark pull his wife's dead body from the back of the jeep. "Oh my gosh! What happened to her?"

"She died giving birth to my baby girl," Mark explained to the man.

"Oh, I'm sorry," the man replied. "We've been worrying about your friend here," he gestured to Rita Farr.

"Don't worry about me," Mark said. "Just get someone to give my baby some food."

"Hey, does anyone have a baby bottle and some milk please! The man's baby needs something to drink!" the man shouted. A woman came running up.

"I have it, here, take it for the baby," she handed it to Rita who was still cradling little Marie. She gently eased the nipple of the bottle into the baby's mouth. Marie drank greedily, devouring it quickly and began crying when she ran out. It was immediately refilled and she was content for the time being.

The man who had first questioned Rita Farr continued looking at Mark Logan. "I recognize you from somewhere. Aren't you Mark Logan the genetic scientist?"

"Yes, I am. And I'm surprised that a distinguished director like Henry Flynn would recognize me," he laughed shaking his hand.

"Well, well, I guess my movies about humans changing into giant mutant animals was that far off was it?" Henry Flynn grinned.

"Well, I don't think anything like that will happen," Mark said. "But it's very entertaining, nonetheless."

"So, you researching here?" he asked.

"Yes, you could say that," replied Mark, "Upper Lamumba isn't exactly a tourist trap, if you know what I mean."

"Yeah, this country's a tough place to live. I'm surprised you and your wife pulled it off."

"Thanks, it's been tough but we loved it here," Mark sighed as Rita walked up to him, handing Marie to him, she looked at him.

"She's asleep now, here," he took the baby from her, cooing softly; he smiled down at the sleeping infant. He sighed. Tomorrow he would bury his wife.

The next day, they had the funeral. The actors, actresses and directors gathered around a spot by the river as Mark used a shovel to dig a hole for her body to rest in; one of the prop masters had generously offered one of their prop caskets for him to put his wife's body in. They were all silent as he said a few words. "I'll miss you more than anything, Marie," Mark choked through his tears. "At least, wherever you are, it's a better place than this. Amen; or whatever."

"Amen," the crowd replied reverently.

"So, what will you do now, Dr. Logan?" Rita Farr asked him.

"I'm not sure," he replied. "I think I might go to the U.S. and check on Logan Estate or something. But I am going to go home first and pack my things."

"That sound like a good idea." Rita Farr asked. "Will you take him with you?"

"I intend to," Mark replied. "But I think I will check on the business in the U.S. I'm sure he will be fine."

"But he thinks you're dead," Rita said. "How will you explain that you're still alive?"

"I'll find a way," Mark Logan said simply.

"Good luck, Dr. Logan," Rita said. He looked at her with a smile. He began gathering his jacket and his little baby, and began making his way into the jungle. He began looking around, recognizing some of his surroundings. He walked for three hours. At last, he began to see a clearing in the dense foliage. He recognized the outlines of the village; he began to make his way towards it.

"Almost there, little Marie, almost home," he whispered to the little infant. He entered the village without much attention. Word hadn't yet reached them of his apparent death. That was good, no need to give them a false alarm. HE made his way into his small house, now desolate, lonely and empty without his wife or son. Sighing, he walked into his lab, there wasn't much there, except his journal.

He reached out and swiped the record button. Today, August 17, 2005. I have lost everything I have ever cared about. My wife is gone; she died giving birth to my little baby, Marie here. He held the little baby his arms. My son's gone. I told him that he had to leave us. Told him to go to King Tawaba where he would be safe. Ah, I don't know if I did the right thing or not.

Well, I did what I did, and I will have to live with that. I'm not sure how I'm going to approach this, telling Gar what happened to his mother. I'll break it to him gently, I suppose. I'm going to go to the U.S. on business; I know I should go to Gar and tell him what's going on. I know I should take him with me but I'm sure that he will be safe with King Tawaba. I will say more when I return. End Transmission.

He used the money he could scrape together to buy a plane ticket to Jump City. Flying straight to Jump City, he headed towards the Logan Estate Genetic Research Facilities. He didn't actually go into the building, he went to a nearby hotel and tried to login on his laptop computer. To his surprise, all his accounts seemed fine. He noticed a small announcement that Mark Logan had "perished tragically in a horrible boating accident in Upper Lamumba on his way back to the States."

I wonder how they found out so quickly, Mark thought as he tried to login to see his accounts. It's strange, they're blocking me with a firewall. But why, these passwords should check out. I mean, I gave these to Nicholas Galtry and all. I have a feeling that I should get back to Upper Lamumba, go get Gar, and then I can straighten out this mess.

"I have a bad feeling about this," Mark muttered to himself. "I'm going to need some professional help. Commissioner Gordon's and old friend; he's in Gotham. Maybe I can get him to send someone down here to help me investigate why all my files are blocked."

He dialed a number he remembered. "Hello, Is this Commissioner Gordon?"

"Yes," came the reply. "Who is this?"

"Dr. Mark Logan," he replied.

"Oh, the genetic scientist, how could I forget? Been a long time since college days." Commissioner Gordon laughed. "So what do ya need?"

"I need you to send someone to investigate the firewall on my accounts." Mark explained.

"Why's that unusual?" Commissioner Gordon asked.

"The site says I died and I'm not dead," answered Mark Logan.

"Well, this is most unusual," James Gordon frowned. "Detective Yin, bring on the Batman!"

"You're calling him into this?" Mark asked in shock. "James, when I said I needed help, I wasn't exactly thinking of someone so…prominent…"

"Ah, don't worry Dr. Logan. Things have been quiet around here, so I don't think he'll mind." He should be there by tomorrow."

"Good, thanks James, this means a lot."

"You're welcome," Commissioner James Gordon hung up the phone. "Soon this'll all me settled and then I can go on with my life."

The next day the Batman did arrive at his hotel. Mark Logan had just walked into his room. Looking up, he noticed the caped vigilante crouching on the balcony. "Are you the Batman?" Mark Logan asked.

"Yes, I am. You must be Dr. Logan," the Batman eyed him verily. "Commissioner Gordon told me that you needed someone to investigate some unusual occurrences at Logan Estate Genetic Research Facilities."

"Yes, well, it seems I can't login to my accounts to check on my company's financial status."

"That is suspicious. I advise you not to go anywhere for quite a while," Batman suggested.

"Why?" he asked, confused.

"So you don't draw any unnecessary attention to yourself." Mark nodded, he understood. Gar would be six in three months and he hoped that he would be safe until he could find him.

Batman spent six months researching and investigating Logan Estate Genetic Facilities. Legal hacking and tracking certain CEOs of Logan Estate revealed some very interesting results. Batman approached Dr. Logan. "It's bad," he said simply.

"How bad?" Mark asked. He had a very bad feeling about it.

"They've been embezzling millions of dollars. Lead CEO Nicholas Galtry's the main one doing it. I'm sorry, you've lost your assets, there is no money left in your accounts. It's all gone." He put a hand on Mark's shoulder. "I'm sorry."

"No! Now I have to go get Gar, and make sure he's okay," Mark stood up, he packed his bag quickly.

"How will you manage to do that?" Batman asked.

"I have a savings account," Mark answered curtly.

"What should I do?"

"No need to bring you into this Batman, you have your own problems to deal with."

"Then I will head back to Gotham," Batman looked at him. "What will you do?"

"I will…deal with this soon, don't worry about it." Mark checked out of the hotel. He had to get back there fast.

"Here's a list of all the CEOs who have stolen from you. Call the authorities and they will deal with it." Batman finished his statement and vanished from sight.

"Don't worry Batman…I will handle it…in my own way," Mark said, a dark look came into his eyes.

Stepping off the plane in Upper Lamumba, Mark Logan didn't have must time to reminisce over his life there. He headed straight for the village where Zanta lived where he had sent Gar. He spotted Zanta walking towards him with a shocked look on her face. "Dr. Logan? You're alive?"

"Yes I am," he replied hastily. "Where's Gar I want to see him."

"I'm sorry, Dr. Logan. They took him away."

"What, who?" he demanded.

"Two men, they claimed they were from the D.H.S. and since Gar was a U.S. Citizen he had to go back with them to the Sates. They lied to us Dr. Logan, they were Jewel thieves. They tried to steal a fabulous treasure from a temple near here. Gar tried to stop them, but they shot him. Mobu was there too, but the temple collapsed on him. He died a few days later, he still said he didn't do anything wrong, and he said it was Gar's fault."

"Did they say where they were taking him?" Mark Logan asked, frantically. He had to find Gar. He had to get the boy away from them. If he didn't he dreaded what they might make the boy do if they discovered his powers. He pulled Zanta into a hug.

"They said something about a place called Metropolis," Zanta replied.

"Thank you," he whispered.

"You're welcome, Dr. Logan," Zanta whispered. "Will I ever see you again?"

"Maybe someday, kid," Mark replied kindly. He turned and walked away. He was heading to Metropolis.

Arriving in Metropolis, Mark Logan began looking for a gun shop, if he was to face off with jewel thieves, he'd have to be armed.

Walking in, the cashier looked up. "Can I help you?"

"Yes, you have a 9 mm handgun?"

"Yeah, you have some ID?" Mark handed him this license.

"Well, Mr. Logan, it seems you check out, do you have money to pay for this?"

"How much is it?"

150.00 plus money for cases," the man said.

"I'll take two cases of 90 rounds," Mark said. He better prepare for whatever would happen. The man looked somewhat surprised, but took the money. Walking out, he spotted two men hurrying quickly towards a warehouse.

"We have to get the jewels from that green kid," one said.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," replied the other. "He should be there by now."

Mark Logan followed them at a safe distance and stood silently outside the abandoned warehouse, listening to the two men argue after they had gone inside. "Listen Kurt, that kid's nothing but trouble. We should off him before he had a chance to go to the cops."

"Stokes, he's only five years old. He's too stupid to turn us in. He doesn't even know what he's doing! He doesn't even know stealing is wrong!" Kurt replied.

Stokes. Mark remembered that as the name of the man he had seen when he had asked them for help with is wife. Now he knew why they had refused to help him. They were thieves and if he had discovered that they might have killed him. Now Gar was with them. Zanta had told him that they had taken him away. He had failed his son. Right when he had needed to reveal that he was alive, he had decided against it. Now Gar might die because of him. He hated Kurt and Stokes for it; and he was going to make them pay.

He silently crept into the dark, creepy warehouse. He had his gun; he fumbled as he tried to load it. He took a deep breath to steady himself. He remembered the life his little boy had; now Kurt and Stokes had taken it away and turned him into an unwitting accomplice to their crimes.

"We should kill the little brat," Kurt said. "He's more trouble than he's worth."

"No! We need him alive," Stokes protested. "He does our dirty work."

No! Mark thought. They'll kill him! If he dies then I failed him. I failed Marie, I won't let that happen again! He clutched the 9 mm handgun tightly. He had fired a gun before, but that was while hunting and not to kill anyone. He had a conscience, he knew murder was wrong. But he was filled with such a deep feeling of malicious hatred towards the two thieves that he didn't care anymore.

He slipped deeper into the shadows as Stokes and Kurt began to argue. "We'll put off killing the kid for now. Where's the money?" Kurt asked.

"The money," Stokes replied. "It should be right—" He looked over to a corner, where the money, gold and jewels were supposed to be. "There. What? It's gone! Where'd it go?"

"You bloody lying thief! You took it for yourself!"

"Yeah, right, like I would we're partners, remember? Stokes roared at Kurt.

"The kid! He took it!"

"Like he would, he's five, Stokes, you give that stupid kid too much credit!"

"Yeah, right, well I think it's about time I go solo," Kurt whipped out a pistol. Stokes also drew his, but before any of them could fire a shot. Stokes gasped as four bullets ripped into his chest.

"What—!" came his last words as he fell to the floor, dead. Kurt looked around in horror. Suddenly he was knocked off his feet, the pistol flew from his hands as he looked up to see the man he had seen back in Africa approach him, a 9 mm handgun aimed straight at his head.

"This is for my wife, you let her die!" Mark shot him once, putting a bullet into his skull before he could call for help. It was done.

He felt numb as he began trying to search for Gar in the building. He didn't find him. Little did he know that he had seen the entire incident from a hiding place on the second floor. He didn't actually see Mark shoot them. From his point of view, it looked like they had shot each other. Mark had said his final words to Kurt in a slight whisper only he could hear, and Gar had plugged his ears because of the loudness of the gunfire.

Mark Logan realized that he had done more than just kill Kurt and Stokes. He had killed himself that night, abandoning his morals and ethics in a moment of cold vengeance. Mark Logan could only stare at what he had done with a numb feeling surrounding him. He placed his gun in stokes hand, leaving the bodies behind him. He couldn't reveal himself to Gar now. He had done the unthinkable. He was a murderer. He felt guilt but his only comfort was that they would never hurt Gar again. Now he had a new purpose in life, to destroy those who had ruined him. He had nothing to live for, except revenge.

"There is no life…In the Void…Only…Death..." His voice trailed off as he left a trail of blood behind him.