Chapter Twenty-One

All-too familiar fear found its way around Reacher's vocal chords, denying her brain all intelligence of her speaking process to fade from her mind. It seemed as if English was a foreign language now, her tongue now accustomed to the dryness of dumbness. It was hard to breath, hard to see, hard to live with that monster sitting along the wall, not twenty feet from her body, eyeing her as if she were a pathetic mouse instead of a heroic vigilantress. She shot a look to Batman, who rigorously fought his binds, swinging his arms beneath him so they were now in front of him instead of behind.

Reacher-or perhaps it was Marianne-rested her head against the cool floor, listening to the quietness of solidity beneath her ear. She closed her eyes, the frightening serpent gone from her vision, and breathed in and out slowly, focusing on the one task that would keep her calm. In the depths of her memory and the serenity of her youth she remembered the venom which laced her veins in the hot, Australian desert. She remembered the immaculate sense of hearing she'd developed and the keen awareness of her sight against the sun. Her chest cavity burned the way it had so many moons ago, when the intoxicating toxin swam through her head. An overwhelming sense of peace surpassed her at that instant as she remembered a verse she had memorized under those hot, sunny, clear days.

...And I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your seed and her Seed; He shall bruise your head, and you shall bruise His heel. She recalled the verse as Genesis 3:15, after creation had been brought forth by God's hand and Eve had been deceived by the serpent.

With Me, all things are possible, child. You have the strength to move mountains through your faith. I am what makes you strong in the face of death, and I am what keeps your feet planted firmly in trouble. I am your El Shaddai, and you are my daughter.

The voice erupted from the quietness of her soul and she slowly opened her eyes. All trembling left her throat, and all queasiness left her abdomen. Reacher-Marianne-glared at the animal before her, ever watching, moving its coils as it crawled along the floor. She then looked over at Batman, who was still fighting his binds.

She swallowed and whispered over to him over her shoulder. "He took all my arrows, didn't he?"

He was quiet a moment. "Yes."

"My bow too, I assume."

He nodded and placed the rope between his teeth. "Uh-huh. Don't worry, Marianne. I'll get you out of this."

She chuckled and settled her gaze back on the creature. "God will get us out of this, Bruce." She pushed herself up and sat on her bottom, looking down and bringing her legs up under her and then tossing a look up at the animal.

It hissed at her, the snake's large, menacing eyes boring holes into her. She could almost feel the animal's plot rolling through the air as if on wheels, barreling into her head and stomach. She wiggled her binds and listened to the creaking of the floor beneath her. Both of the vigilante's stopped, and looked.

Azana, as the animal was called, began her attack. Her slithering began to speed up as she rocketed for them, lunging out her stocky body at them, mouth open and fang-like teeth bared. Reacher used the heel of her feet to push back and she slid her butt across the floor, Batman springing from a squatting positioning. He hit the wall and hollared, rolling onto his back and staring at the ceiling. Then, rolling onto his stomach he used his knees to push himself up.

Reacher sat up and whipped her head to remove the hair from her face and stared at him. Azana was righteously angry now, desperate to complete her kill, and began to encircle Batman with her thick body. "Are you okay?"

"My shoulder," he breathed heavily, "I think it's dislocated. Otherwise I'm fine." He circled around to face the animal's head, where her mouth was opened halfway as if to strike. She narrowed her eyes and Batman lept over her body, her striking and lunging her upper half at him. Seeing the oncoming animal's fangs lunging at her, Reacher threw her top-half back to the floor where her head smacked against the floor with a crack.

Azana's midsection crashed down onto her stomach, at least one hundred pounds of extra weight slamming down into her abdomen and crushing her entrails. Reacher gasped, all air sucked from her lungs, her diaphragm aching for release. She tried to scream, the trembling beginning again as Azana reared her ugly head to glare at the intrusion. She hissed, and Reached pushed her knees into her body and tried lifting.

Reacher struggled against the reptile's immense strength, glancing from the corner of her mask to glimpse the animal. She bared her fangs again, at least the length of a green bean and coiled back. She was about to lunge when she shrieked instantly, and turned her body to focus on Batman.

Somehow he had escaped his binds, his one arm hanging loosely beside him, the other plucking a batarang from his belt. Azana looked to the ending half of her body where a protruding object stuck out from her skin, blood oozing on the floor around her slimy body. She then focused back on Reacher, apparently reasoning that Batman was not as interesting-or perhaps as tasty-as her previous guest.

Batman lept over Azana's body and grabbed Reacher's arm. Then, with his foot he kicked the snake's fleshy body, then she roared, lurching her body into the air around Reacher. He yanked her gasping body from the animal's weight, where she sat up and began to loose her binds. Azana hissed and shrieked, then lunged for them again.

Batman pushed his companion out of the way where he socked the creature in the jaw. Instantly she dropped to the floor and was motionless, mouth open and not closing. Reacher's brows rose when Batman rocketed over to her, kneeling and using the edge of another batarang to cut her free. When she was released, they both raced for the door and slammed it closed behind the unconcious, broken-jawed animal.

Reacher gripped the door-knob behind her and inhaled deeply, closing her eyes and trying desperately to stop the rampaging of her heart, which felt as if it were a rocket preparing for take-off. She then opened her eyes and found Bruce clutching his shoulder. She rushed for him and helped him to the floor.

"How bad is it?"

He glared at her from the corner of his eye. "Do you want me to answer that question?"

She gave him a nervous smile. "You don't have to. Let me fee-" she touched the protruding area and he winced, gritting his teeth and slamming his cowl into the wall behind him. Reacher nodded and swallowed, then situated herself on the floor. "-oh. I see."

"Fix it." he demanded.

"Fix it?" she recalled, "Batman, I can't just-" she jumped when his hand gripped her wrist and he glared at her with desperate, deep eyes. He gritted his teeth and yanked her down to eye-level.

"Fix it." he rasped, "And do it fast. Ra's is going to make his next move, and I want to be there when he does."

Reacher nodded slowly. "Okay. I will." She helped him scoot his butt forward and positioned herself behind him. She counted to three and began to message his shoudlers. He moaned slightly and moved his neck with her motions. "What do you plan to do after this?" she whispered quietly, "I mean, what is going to happen to us? We're...vigilante's. Basically criminal's. How is life going to go on?"

He was quiet a moment and then replied. "Life always goes on. There's always a flipside to something-even us. We just have to find that flipsid-UGH!" his body curled forward as she jerked his shoulder back into place, it popping smoothly with her motions. She hustled to the front of him, where his face had turned a great shade of red, his teeth still gritted and breaths turning raspy and short.

She swallowed and bit her lower lip, looking to either side of them to check the status of their position. Then, inhaling a breath and closing her eyes, she took his jaw in her hands and placed her lips on his. Like lightening her stomach seized and her heart froze, praying that he wouldn't hate her for this. Slowly the tension left his shoulders and a glove hand gently tucked a curl behind her ear. She broke their kiss, blinking the envisioned anger in his eyes away and awaited for his response.

It wasn't what she expected at all. "You okay? You're not hurt, right?"

She shrunk back a few inches, taking her hands from his face and looked away. "I'm fine. Just sore." he got up and stood before her, Reacher fighting the blurring vision away from her eyes-he didn't care. This was just a game to him. Bruce-Batman-didn't love her like she loved him. She was about to push herself up when a hand extended in front of her.

She ignored it and turned from him, closing her eyes to the stinging tears and hustling for the staircase. "Reacher."

She began to tie her hair back with a binder she plucked from her wrist beneath her glove. "We have to find Crane. He'll take us to Ghul."

He stalked behind her, and she hustled down the stairs-rejection ever burning within her soul. She stopped short when she opened her eyes, the lifeless eyes staring blankly at her, the room screaming with the injustice staining the rug beneath their feet. Her eyes widened and she dropped to her knees, lunging for his body.

"Jonathan!" she cried, voice cracking. "Jonathan!" she grabbed his suit-coat with her fingers and pulled his limp body up to her. She scanned his clouding eyes and bit her lower lip, placing a hand behind his head and brining it to her shoulder. She rested her head against his and hid a sob by biting her lip. She closed her eyes and felt a tear slip behind her mask. "Ra's." she slowly rested his body back to the floor.

She got herself up off the floor and searched his suit jacket. Batman stood behind her, his cape enveloping his form as he stared down at the dead psychopathic man before him. She frantically searched for any piece of evidence, any trace of hope on this man. Startled when her fingers wrapped around a piece of paper, she yanked her fist from his jacket and unfolded the small square of paper, splattered with Jonathan's blood.

It was a movie title, one she remembered in her younger years. "Planes Trains and Automobiles?" she set the paper on her lap and looked up at him. "A Steve Martin comedy? What does that have to do with anything?"

Batman took the paper from her when she extended him to it. He flipped it over and she looked back to Jonathan. She frowned and began to remove his suit jacket, replacing him back to his laying position. Batman stepped around them and headed towards the window, where he looked out. Reacher rested the jacket overtop of Crane's death-striken face, and she rested his hands overtop the other on his abdomen. She then kissed her hand and touched his hands, then got up and approached him, hands on hips.

"1789." he pointed to a small number, written it splotched ink. Reacher had to wrinkle her brow and squint her eyes to make it out properly. She straightened and began to look around the room for any sort of weapon.

"So? What does a date have to do with anything?" she opened an abandoned crate left behind in the warehouse. She rummaged through it, awaiting his reply with only one ear, still erked by his uninterest in her femininity. She reached into the crate and removed a logbook, a broken calculator and a pen. She replaced them and got back up. "What happened in 1789 that is relevant?"

He thought a few moment. "The only thing detromental to world history was the invention of the flanged wheel, which changed the way locomotives moved on railways." she stared at him as if he'd sprouted wings and wrinkled her brow. "What? I studied American History at Princeton." She smiled halfway at him as a glimpse of Bruce Wayne broke through the facade.

"1789 can't be a certain time," he continued. He looked at her and then back at the window.

"It does have the sequence 7, 8, and 9," she shrugged. "That doesn't mean anything though, right?"

He shrugged a shoulder and then turned from the window, facing her again. "Ra's wants to take down the city from the heart, which is the Narrows. But how he is going to despense it evenly around the entire city is the question."

Reacher recalled the number and used her fingers to help her think. "7, 8, and 9," she shook her head, "simple numbers, two of them uneven, close to double-digits. And 1789 is an important date for railroad history..."

He shot a look at her. "What if 789 was a number? Like seven hundred eighty nine? It could number something."

She pointed a finger at him. "Good, good, I like that. Seven hundred eighty nine? What on Earth would Crane be doing with seven hundred eighty nine? Perhaps that's the number of gallon's he's going to use on the city?" Batman shook his head at this.

"No. Ra's wouldn't care about that. However much it takes it all he cares."

"Planes Trains and Automobiles? Those are three types of transportation that Gotham uses, and trains are what were modified in 1789," she added, snapping her fingers, "is there that many trains in Gotham though?"

Batman gave her an 'iffy' look. "Not likely."

"You said it could number something," she walked passed him and pointed to the bridge across the Gotham River, and stared into the city, passed the Narrows and the Traps. "Maybe it could be a number of something. An address, an apartment number, a telephone number. Something."

As if like lightning, his eyes widened and he grabbed her wrist, yanking her from the warehouse and hustling down the stairs. Surprised and perplexed at his sudden objective. He reached for a receiver in his belt and pressed the button. She yanked her wrist from his hand and glared at him. "What? Did you figure it out?"

From the distance, the Tumbler roared from the shadows and came rocketing towards them, stopping abruptly and sinking into its shocks before them. He graced the last step and hurried around to the other side. The hatch opened and he lept up inside.

"Batman!" she declared,

"It's the train station. Platform 1, train 7, seat 89. It's a location. Ra's is putting the vaporizer on train 7 and running it through the city. That's how he's taking down the city."

He gaped at him, then smiled, running for the Tumbler. She spun around on her heel, threw herself into a backflip and balanced on the ledge of the hatch before dropping into the seat beside him. He stared at her and smirked, a spark of twinkle in his eyes.

"I suppose we have a train to catch," he chuckled darkly, flipping a couple of switching before shifting the massive vehicle into drive. She rolled her eyes and covered her one eye with a hand.

"You're so hysterical."

"I have a dry sense of humor."

"You're sick."