Chapter 4: Survival
The next day, the sun shone brightly over a disused park at the heart of the Glades. Overgrown plants hung over the cracked pavement of the paths that snaked through the park, while garbage overflowed from the trash cans and homeless men and women camped on the disused benches.
Walking through the park, Roy looked around with a nervous expression, chewing his nails in agitation. Even though Roy practically had his head on a swivel however, he still failed to notice Oliver trailing him, the young man wearing his ratty green hoodie with the hood pulled up. As Oliver followed, Roy walked off the path into an overgrown field shaded by trees. Oliver paused at the spot Roy walked off the path, but didn't follow, instead finding a bench from which he could still see the teenager and sitting on it.
As Oliver watched, Roy walked to the shadiest area of the field and waited, looking around nervously. A moment later, a man dressed in a black hoodie with the hood pulled up walked up to Roy. The two of them talked for a few moments, their conversation quickly becoming more and more heated.
"Look man, I just need a fix!" Roy suddenly shouted, loud enough that Oliver could hear.
"Back off now, kid," the other man snarled, "I know you haven't paid up with Ivan. I'm not giving a damn thing until I see some cash."
For a moment, Oliver was worried that the two of them were about to come to blows, but then a young woman suddenly ran up and interposed herself between the two young men.
"Hey, hey, hey!" the young woman called, "No need for any of that, guys!"
As Oliver got a good look at the young woman, he felt his heart skip a beat. It had been years since he had seen a picture of her, and she was both noticeably older and taller now, but there was no mistaking who the young woman was.
Mia Queen, Oliver's sister.
"Mind your own business," the man in the black hoodie snarled as he glared at Mia.
"Well, I mean, if we're talking business," Mia said as she pulled a large wad of cash out of her pocket and held it up for the man to see, "Then we can do business."
"Look, I'm happy to do business with you," the man in the hoodie replied as he looked at Mia, "But he owes money to someone else."
"But if I buy some for the both of us, you could tell your boss or whoever that you never saw him," Mia explained, "We get what we want, and you get to make some money. Everyone wins."
The man in the hoodie eyed both Roy and Mia hesitantly for a moment.
"Come on," Mia pressed as she wiggled the money in front of the man, "You know you want it."
"Fine," the man relented as he snatched the money out of Mia's hand. Putting the money in the pocket of his hoodie, he rummaged around for a moment before pulling out two vials containing a yellow liquid and handing them to Mia.
"Pleasure doing business with you," Mia said with a grin as she took the vials, prompting the man in the hoodie to nod at her before walking away.
As Mia turned to talk to Roy, Oliver watched as he began clenching and unclenching his left hand rapidly. A look of determination on his face, Oliver rose to his feet and began walking towards where Roy and Mia were talking. Before he could even get close though, he was stopped as someone stepped into his path.
Looking up at the person, Oliver saw that he was a tall, African-American man with broad shoulders and a muscular physique. He had dark brown eyes and black hair cut in a crew cut. He wore a black suit with a white, button-up shirt, a black tie, and black leather shoes.
"Can I help you, sir?" the man questioned, his voice deep and controlled.
"I just wanted to walk over there," Oliver answered as he gestured towards the field where Mia and Roy were still talking.
"Not while my client is over there," the man responded.
"You her bodyguard or something?" Oliver inquired.
"Something like that," the man answered, "Though I'm starting to wonder who you might be?"
"If you're her bodyguard, why are you letting her put that poison in her system?" Oliver asked, completely ignoring the man's own question.
"What Ms. Queen does for….recreation isn't any of my business," the man replied, his eyes narrowing at Oliver, "Nor is it yours. Who are you?"
"Me?" Oliver questioned as he smirked at the man and backed away, "I'm nobody important."
With that, Oliver turned away and headed back the way he had come. The man watched Oliver as he walked away, before Mia and Roy approached him from behind.
"Hey, Dig," Mia spoke up, bringing the man's attention away from Oliver, "I'm all done here. Everything okay?"
"Yes," the man, Dig, replied as he glanced back towards Oliver, only to find that the young man had disappeared, "Everything is fine, Ms. Queen."
"Cool," Mia said with a nod, "I know the bums can get kind of pushy around here. Anyway, we're going to give my new friend Roy here a ride back to my place so that we can have some fun. Sound good?"
"If that's what you want, Ms. Queen," Dig answered with a nod.
"Awesome," Mia replied as she looped her arm around one of Roy's and began leading the young man away, "Come on, Roy. The car is this way."
As Mia and Roy walked away, Dig watched them go for a moment, a concerned expression on his face before he sighed, shook his head and followed behind them.
Later,
The kitchens of the Birdcage Club were a noisy, cluttered affair, but the floors and countertops were clean and the staff went about their tasks in an orderly fashion. Oliver, with a white apron on over his black t-shirt and jeans, stood in front of a large sink filled with hot water and soap bubbles, where he was attempting to clean a dish as quickly as possible with a wet dishrag.
A commotion from behind Oliver caught his attention and he turned to see Shades enter the room accompanied by another man. The other man was a middle aged African-American with a lanky build and a bald head, though he sported a pair of bushy, white eyebrows and a matching Fu Manchu mustache. The man was dressed in a purple, button-up shirt underneath a vest that sported a design that reminded Oliver of the scales of a diamondback rattlesnake. The man also wore a pair of fine, black pants and cowboy boots that seemed to be made out of some kind reptile hide. He carried a black cane with him, though it seemed to be entirely ornamental, topped with a silver head molded to look like a hissing snake.
"Good evening, everybody!" the man exclaimed with a loud, jovial voice, "I just wanted to see how my amazing kitchen staff was doing tonight."
From there, the man walked around the kitchen, stopping to briefly chat with each of the workers in turn, prompting Oliver to turn his attention back towards the dishes he was washing. A few minutes later, Oliver noted the man and Shades walking over to him.
"Well, well, well, looks like we got a new face in here today," the man said with a charming smile as he offered his hand to Oliver, "And who might you be, young man?"
"Oliver Smith, sir," Oliver replied as he quickly dried off his hands and shook the man's, "I'm the new dishwasher."
"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you, Oliver Smith," the man replied with a wide grin, "My name is Cornell Stokes, and I run this fine establishment."
Now that the man was up close and smiling at him, Oliver was surprised to see that all of his teeth had been replaced by grey, metal fangs. Seeing Oliver's surprise, the man let out a loud, boisterous laugh.
"Admiring my grill, son?" the man questioned as he gestured at his teeth with the head of his cane, "Had my teeth knocked out in my youth, and when the dentist replaced them, I had him put in these beauties. People have called me Cottonmouth ever since."
Seeing Oliver's look of trepidation at this, Cottonmouth let out another loud laugh.
"Don't worry, son," Cottonmouth reassured Oliver as he patted the young man on the shoulder while walking away from him, "I don't bite my employees as long as they do a good job."
After Cottonmouth had walked away, Shades pulled him to a stop a short distance away, speaking in a low voice that was nonetheless loud enough that Oliver could hear them even as he went back to cleaning dishes.
"So, have we cleared up all of our problems with the merchandise?" Cottonmouth questioned.
"Mostly," Shades admitted with a nod, "Ivan has a customer that's been giving him trouble. He's trying to collect the money, but it's not looking good."
"Well, tell Ivan to do what he can to collect the money, but if he has to, he has my permission to write off the debt," Cottonmouth answered, "It's not as good as cash, but sometimes you just need to send a message."
"I'll pass it along," Shades confirmed with a nod while Oliver returned his focus to the dirty dishes before him, a concerned expression on his face.
Later,
As he made his way up to the Sherwood Apartment building late that night, Oliver wore the same concerned expression on his face. His expression only turned more severe as he reached the door and heard muffled, but clearly agitated voices on the other side.
"Now, please calm down, Ivan," Oliver could hear Matt saying on the other side of the door.
"Don't tell me to calm down, bro!" Ivan angrily snapped, "This bro is messing up my business and I'm not going to stand for it anymore!"
"Look man, I promise you, I'll get the money," Roy groaned, and from the tone of his voice, Oliver suspected that the young man had been injured in some way.
"I'm done with your empty promises, bro!" Ivan shouted, "I'm here to collect!"
"B-But he just said he doesn't have any money!" Felicity's voice came, causing Oliver's eyes to go wide in surprise.
"I'm here for something else, bro," Ivan explained, "I'm here for my pound of flesh, bro."
"Pound of…." Matt's began to say, confusion and horror coming through in his voice in equal measure, "Ivan, I don't know what you're thinking, but I promise you can't collect money from a corpse."
"Maybe so, bro, maybe so," Ivan admitted, a dangerous edge entering his voice, "But the big boss said that if I can't collect on the money bro, then I should make an example of the bro, so that all the other bros in this city know not to mess with us!"
"Oh my God," Felicity whispered in horror.
"Look, Ivan, let's talk about this," Matt said nervously.
"No, bro, we're done talking!" Ivan snapped, "We're going to settle this like men, bro."
His eyes narrowing, a grim look settled onto Oliver's face. Hustling away from the door, Oliver circled around the building until he found the old, iron fire escape that was attached to the building. Running towards the fire escape, Oliver saw that the ladder at its end was retracted, leaving a ten foot gap between the bottom of the ladder and the ground. Running up to the wall next to the fire escape, Oliver jumped at it, planted one foot against the bricks and vaulted off, easily rising high enough into the air to grab the fire escape's handrail and nimbly pull himself up onto it.
After racing up the fire escape, Oliver reached the window that led into his bedroom and managed to wedge it open from the outside. Slipping in, Oliver ran over to where his old duffle bag sat on the floor. Opening it, Oliver hesitated for a moment as he stared down at its contents.
Reaching into the bag, Oliver retrieved a worn, wooden bow that looked like it had been crafted by hand from whatever had been available at the time. Grabbing the bowstring with his other hand and tested it, finding that the bow still pulled the string back and held it, a look of determination in his grey eyes.
Five years earlier,
Oliver had no idea how long he had been strapped to the chair. Hours? Days? Weeks? Time had lost all meaning for Oliver. But the waking nightmares he had experienced were still fresh in his mind. The feeling of tens of thousands of spiders crawling all over his body. The taste of dirt in his mouth after being buried alive. The smell of his own flesh cooking as he was roasted over a fire. All of these and more were seared into his memory.
Blinking his eyes, Oliver felt his vision clear as he looked around the room. He was pretty sure what he was seeing was real this time as he took in the sight of the same concrete room that he had been in when this nightmare had started. He was currently slouched in his metal chair, his wrist burning from where they chafed against the leather bindings. Slowly, Oliver's gaze fell onto his left arm, which he could see was riddled with marks from being injected, all of which were in various stages of healing.
"My, my, Mr. Queen," Oliver heard Crane say, "It would seem that you're having an adverse reaction to the latest formula."
Lifting his head up, Oliver looked over at where Crane was hovering over Robert. His bleary eyes focusing, Oliver could see that Robert looked as bad as the young man felt, his hair messy and matted with sweat, while the sleeve of his shirt had been rolled up, showing that his left arm was as covered in as many puncture marks as Oliver's own.
Crane, who had been listening to Robert's chest with a stethoscope, lowered the instrument from his ears and sat back in his chair.
"A shame," Crane commented with a sigh as he put the stethoscope into his black bag, "It's so hard to find good subjects these days. At the very least though, we can use your autopsy to find out what went wrong."
Standing up, Crane leaned over and rested his hand on Robert's shoulder.
"Thank you for your contribution to science," Crane said before he turned and exited the room.
"Robert?" Oliver spoke up, his voice raspy due to how raw his throat felt, "Robert, are you-"
Oliver was cut off as Robert began coughing violently. After a few moments, Robert spat out a glob of blood onto the floor and raised his gaze to look at Oliver, his eyes managing to focus on the young man.
"These people…." Robert wheezed, sounding like he was struggling to breath, "They're going to kill you. We have to get….to get out of here."
"I don't think either of us are going anywhere," Oliver replied as he pulled at his bonds.
As Robert thought over what Oliver had said, he groggily turned his head towards where his left hand was bound. As Oliver watcher, Robert arranged two of his fingers above the joint of his thumb, took a deep breath and pushed down sharply. With a sickening crack, Robert dislocated his thumb, causing him to gasp in pain.
"W-What are you doing!?" Oliver questioned, his eyes wide with shock.
"It's a trick your mother taught me," Robert explained as he managed to wiggle his left hand free of his bonds before popping his thumb back into place with another strangled cry of pain.
With his hand now free, Robert quickly went about releasing his other hand. Once that was done, Robert rose shakily to his feet, looking like he would collapse at any moment. Clutching at his chest, Robert stumbled over to Oliver's chair, and began freeing the young man's hands as torrents of sweat poured down his face.
"Can….Can you stand?" Robert questioned once he was finished, staggering back a step in order to give Oliver some room.
"I think so," Oliver replied, before he pushed himself onto his unsteady feet.
"Alright," Robert said with a nod, before he turned towards the door, "Then we need-"
Before Robert could finish, he descended into a fit of wracking coughs, drops of blood staining his chin as his legs buckled underneath him. Stumbling over to Robert, Oliver did his best to hold the older man up, but his arms proved too weak to support Robert as he collapsed to the concrete floor.
"Robert!" Oliver gasped he helped the older man lay on his back, "Roger, are you okay!?"
"No," Robert replied as he continued clutching at his chest, his eyes shut tight in pain, "Feel like my chest is on fire."
"Come on," Oliver said as he tried to pick Robert off of the ground, "We have to get you out of here."
Grunting in effort, Oliver attempted to help Robert back to his feet, but his arms proved too tired and weak from the abuse he had suffered to lift the older man, and instead Oliver ended up sitting on the floor catching his breath as Robert continued to lay on his back.
"You need to leave me behind, Oliver," Robert said after a moment.
"What?" Oliver questioned as he looked at Robert in confusion, "What are you talking about? There's no way in Hell that I'm leaving you behind!"
"Oliver….son….I'm finished," Robert said as he turned his head to look at the young man, "Whatever that madman gave me, it-"
Robert paused as he began coughing violently, rolling over so he could spit another glob of blood onto the floor.
"Oliver, this can't be the end for you," Robert went on, "You need to get out of here. You….you need to figure out how to stop these people. You need to survive…."
As Robert spoke, his voice grew weaker and weaker, his eyes fluttering as the older man fought to keep them open.
"Oliver….I'm sorry I was never there….for you…." Robert went on, his head slowly slumping towards the floor, "I'm sorry….for bringing you here….sorry….for everything…."
With that, Robert's eyes closed and he fell silent, his head resting against the concrete floor. Oliver looked at the older man with wide eyes, unsure of what to do. Carefully, he reached out and placed his hand on Robert's shoulder.
"Robert?" Oliver questioned as he gently shook the older man's shoulder.
Robert made no reply.
"...Dad?" Oliver whispered, a desperate note to his voice.
Robert stayed silent, and even though the man's chest continued to rise and fall slowly, Oliver knew that his father was gone. Balling his hands into fists, Oliver fought against the angry tears that threatened to spill down his cheeks. He had been alone for so long, and now, just when it seemed like he would finally have a family of his own, it was ripped away from him, seemingly for no reason. Angrily wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, Oliver's gaze turned towards the chair that Crane had been using while he conducted his sick "experiments" on them, and he thought of what Robert had told him.
He had to survive.
Outside of the room, two of the men that had taken Oliver and Robert hostage stood lounging against the wall on either side of the door, ostensibly on guard, though in truth, both of them were barely paying attention to their surroundings. Suddenly, the door to the room banged open, slamming into the man standing on the left side of the door. As the guard on the right started in surprise, Oliver stepped out of the room, holding Crane's chair above his head by the back. Swinging the chair, Oliver smashed it against the guard to his right, causing him to bounce off the wall and crumple to the floor. As the two guards tried to recover from the surprise attack, Oliver tossed the chair onto the floor and went stumbling down the hallway as fast as he could.
As the guards screamed after him in a language the young man did not understand, Oliver ran down the dirty concrete hallway. As he reached a point where the corridor reached another one that ran perpendicular to the one he was in. Turning down one of the corridors, Oliver was quickly forced to double back as he spotted another pair of guards running down the corridor towards him. At the end of the other corridor was a narrow concrete staircase that led up.
As Oliver started up the stairs, the guards who were chasing him caught up, one of them reaching out and grabbing the young man by the leg, tripping him up. Grunting in pain as he fell onto the stairs, Oliver quickly twisted around and kicked the guard in the chest with his free foot, knocking him back into his fellow guard, forcing him to release Oliver's leg as they both fell to the floor. Raising back to his feet, Oliver spun around and continued making his way up the stairs.
At the top of the stairs was a metal door which Oliver quickly reached and pushed through. Beyond the door, Oliver found himself outside the structure, with concrete ground that extended a short distance before giving way to jungles so thick that Oliver couldn't see anything beyond the first few trees. Oliver's vision was also hampered by the fact that night had fallen and rain was pouring down, though every few moments, the night was illuminated by flashes of lightning, allowing Oliver to see a few buildings scattered about.
Stumbling to a stop on the wet concrete, Oliver found six more men dressed in olive green ponchos standing before him, all of whom quickly spun around and pointed their guns at the young man. His eyes wide, Oliver attempted to double back, only to find the two guards who had been chasing him blocking his path with their weapons raised.
As the men began shouting at him and gesturing at him aggressively with their guns, Oliver slowly raised his hands above his head before lowering himself to his knees while looking down at the ground. While the other guards covered Oliver with their guns, one of the men in front of him walked up to the young man and moved to grab him. Before the man could lay a hand on Oliver though, the young man heard a sharp whistle accompanied by a meaty thwack, followed by a long silence. Raising his head, Oliver saw that the guard who had been approaching him was now standing stock still with an arrow protruding from his chest. The man looked at the arrow in confusion for a moment before he toppled over backwards.
The shock of seeing their comrade fall spurred the seven other men into action. Spinning towards the dark jungle that loomed before them, the men began pointing their guns in every direction, trying to figure out where the arrow had come from. Suddenly, there was another whistling sound as something imeded itself in the ground at the center of the group. Looking at it, they all saw that the object was another arrow with a blinking light on the shaft. As they all looked at it, the arrow suddenly exploded in a bright flash of light, causing the group to cry out in alarm as they were blinded.
Blinking his eye rapidly, Oliver looked around as his eyesight slowly returned to him. Before him, Oliver could see three more of the guards were now on the ground, arrows protruding from various parts of their bodies. Standing over them was a figure that Oliver was having a hard time seeing through the gloom of the rainy night. Oliver assumed the figure was a man, due to the person's height and the broad width of their shoulders. Most of the man's body was covered by a purple poncho, his face obscured by a hood. Oliver could see black combat boots covered the man's feet and long, black, fingerless gloves on his hands. A highly advanced, purple compound bow was clasped in his left hand and Oliver could make out a quiver peeking over the man's shoulder.
By that point, the four remaining guards had regained their wits and pointed their guns at the man. With lightning reflexes, the man drew an arrow, nocked it and fired it at one of the guards, hitting the man in the knee. As the guard fell to his good knee, screaming in pain, the man rolled across the ground towards him, avoiding the hail of bullets as the other guards opened fire on him. Rising up, the man spun around and hooked his foot around the guard's neck before yanking it down, slamming the guard's head against the ground as he fell to one knee.
Drawing and nocking a second arrow, the man fired it at another guard, piercing the guard's hand and forcing him to drop his gun. Rushing forward, the man dropkicked the injured man in the chest, knocking him into the guard behind him and sending them both falling to the ground.
Seeing how easily his comrades had been taken out, the remaining guard quickly turned and fled as the man kicked himself back to his feet. Aiming his bow at the fleeing guard, the man drew and nocked an arrow that ended in a two-pronged device instead of a normal arrow head. Loosing the arrow, the man struck the fleeing guard in the back, causing him to fall to the ground and begin convulsing as jolts of electricity shot off the arrow.
Suddenly, Oliver was grabbed roughly from behind as one of the guards that the man had knocked down rose back to his feet, wrapped his arm around Oliver's throat and put the barrel of a pistol against the young man's head. With the same lightning fast reflexes Oliver had seen him use earlier in the fight, the man spun and faced Oliver and the guard, pointing an arrow directly at the other man's face, prompting him to try and hide behind Oliver as best he could.
The guard shouted something at the man with the bow in a language that Oliver didn't speak. The man with the bow, however, had no such problem, and to the best Oliver could tell, replied in the same language with a cool and calm voice. The two exchanged words for a few moments, the guard growing increasingly agitated with every passing second. Suddenly, the guard leaned forward and shouted something at the man with the bow, which is exactly what he had been waiting for.
Loosing the arrow he had been holding, the man struck the guard right between the eyes. Jerking his head back, the guard fell limply to the ground, releasing the grip he had on Oliver, causing the young man to stumble forwards and gasp in surprise. Feeling as though he had no strength left, Oliver fell to his hands and knees,
As Oliver tried to collect himself, a pair of black boots appeared in his line of sight. Slowly lifting his head, Oliver looked up at the man with the bow as he loomed over him. As the man looked down at Oliver, he pulled his hood back, revealing short, spikey blond hair, blue eyes and Caucasian features, with a worried expression on his face.
"Okay," the man said with a sigh, "This looks bad."
A/N: Had a lot of fun with this one, obviously this is a reveal that I've had in mind for a while and I'm excited to show you all what happens in the next chapter. Hope you all enjoyed it as well! As always, feedback and critiques are always welcome so please review! Later!