Chapter 11:
"The Right Path"
Jason Todd took his motorcycle to Gotham City from Bludhaven via the expressway and Jon sat behind him clutching his waist tightly, making their way to Gotham Hospital—which took them about an hour. It wasn't Jon Kent's normal way of travel. Flying would be quicker, but it would cause too many stares—as he carried a full-grown man all that distance, photographers hounding them, taking pictures for the nightly news. "Who is Supeboy helping now?" would be the foremost question.
So, the "normal" method was best. And Jason agreed. The last thing he needed was the image of a boy having to rescue him. Red Hood had a reputation and he aimed to keep it.
With virtually everywhere he went, Jason took his Red Hood gear with him in a shoulder bag. Jon dressed in civilian attire before he left, borrowing some of Damian's clothes at the condo; his Superbly clothes underneath.
Jason had had enough waiting for Damian to get back to him. Besides, the kid could take care of himself. He was more concerned with Dick from the sounds that he heard when he spoke to Barbara on the phone.
Entering the main reception area, he was halted by the sight of a slender, sexy, young woman in a tight dress with pink hair.
Jason caught Jon looking. "She's pretty, although pink hair is an unnatural colour," Jon said, pointing out the obvious.
"You never know, maybe she's pink all over?" Jason replied and winked.
"Huh?"
Jason walked over to the reception desk and overheard the young woman wanting to know the status of a patient named: Ric Gray. The receptionist said the name didn't match anyone in their computer records. "I'm sorry, ma'am, but there is no one currently with that name in the hospital," she said. "Do you have the correct name? Perhaps, he may have already been released?"
Jason listened for a moment, then said: "She means: Richard Grayson," he corrected. "And he's a patient in the private wards." The young woman looked at Jason and he introduced himself. She was a looker, but he held back the charm. "Jason Todd, Dick is my brother—adopted brother. How do you know him?"
"I don't know him by that name. But come to think of it, I do remember someone calling him that in the bar," she said with a sweet smile. "Pixie Charms, that's what everyone calls me." When they shook hands, Jason felt she had a nice handshake and her skin was silky smooth to the touch. "Ric—I mean, Richard—spent a lot of time at the neighbour bar I hang out at in Bludhaven; he was always a gentleman to me. I flirted with him a lot because he was cute, except for those nasty scars on the side of his head. He rejected me, but he never disrespected me. He flirted with a lot of other girls at first, saying some of the corniest pick up lines, but then he stopped it all of a sudden. When I found out he was in the hospital, I wanted to see how he was since I couldn't get any other information."
"Well, you may find he's different now…" And Jason gave her a made-up story of how Dick got his head injuries—the truth was not an option—and that, as a result, he was suffering from a rare form of amnesia that radically altered his personality. "But he's better now, I think?" The last part trailed off, because he didn't know Dick's condition at the moment from Barbara's call.
They made their way to the elevators. As they rode up to the fourteenth floor, Jason told Pixie that Dick had a sweetheart. But she already knew about Barbara Gordon, it was obvious how he looked at her whenever she visited the bar to see him. As soon as she started coming around, that was when he stopped flirting with other girls.
They exited the elevator and when then reached the waiting area, Tim Drake was sitting in a chair typing on his phone. "Tim?" Jason addressed, and Tim looked at him but didn't smile. Jason immediately knew something was wrong. "What is it, kid?"
Tim looked somber. He took a slight moment to eye the pretty pink lady, acknowledged Jon, then said, "Major setback in Dick's recovery. I don't have all the details yet, but they've had to sedate and strap him to his bed. They won't let me in to see him either, but Barbara's in there with him and the doctor. From what I've been told, he suffered what could only be described as a psychotic episode."
"Has he relapsed?"
"Don't know—"
Just then, Dick's doctor came around the corner of a hallway, and Tim quickly went over, asking him the prognosis. Tim introduced himself first, as the doctor had never seen him before. Since Drake and Todd were family, he could give them some details. After a bunch of medical talk, Jason asked for the jargon to be repeated in plain English.
"He was poisoned," the doctor said, "laced with a very powerful psychotropic drug unlike any we've seen. We aren't sure about everything yet, until we check out another patient who had a brief interaction with Mr. Grayson in the cafe most recently. Testing his hand bandages, after we learned that he had touched Mr. Grayson, we learned he had a strange substance in his inner left palm. He's currently being held for questioning and interrogated by police."
"This is the second attempt on Dick's life while in this hospital, doctor? Where the hell is security?" Jason's anger swelled.
Tim tried to remained calm. "Was it premeditated, doctor?" he asked.
"Nothing is confirmed, we'll have to wait for the investigation to conclude," the doctor said, and then sighed, "In the meantime, he's being guarded around the clock, and until we find an antidote, he's to remain sedated for his own safety."
"We understand, doctor." Tim said. He and Jason gave each other a sideways glance of understanding, this was a direct attack on the Batfamily. Someone knew Dick had survived the apparent shooting and now, after all events incurred, had his memories back, he was once again being targeted. Tim returned his attention back to the doctor. "Can we see him?"
"Barbara Gordon is in his room at the moment, so only one visitor at a time, and you'll have to be checked by security first."
Tim and Jason took turns visiting an unconscious Dick and getting more information, but Pixie and Jon stayed in the waiting area, as they were not allowed because they were not immediate family members. Barbara was beside herself and had been crying.
But she asked one thing from both Tim and Jason: "Find out who is trying to kill Dick, and why?"
Tim was already on the case and relayed all the information he learned through his investigation to Barbara, but the leads were scarce and the perpetuators were many. Nightwing had made a lot enemies over the years. Bruce hadn't been much help. He was still dealing with the fallout of being left at the altar by Selina, and despite his tough facade, it had hit him hard. But he wished Dick well and said that all of Dick's medical bills would be paid without question.
"Bruce has to get his head in the game and forget about that bitch," Jason said of Selina, as they all later gathered outside. Pixie had left, getting picked up by a friend. But she did leave her cell phone to be informed of Dick's condition. It was best she and Barbara didn't see each other for obvious reasons. "Dick needs his help now and we need to implore every resource to catch these bastards who want Dick dead. Obviously, his secret hero identity is known to someone. So, who do we have as suspects, Tim?"
Tim went through a long list.
"Barb told me what Damian found at two separate fake crime scenes—an emblem clip with a 'G' and a bag of marbles—both supposedly relating to Dick's time with Spyral," Jason said. "Are there any enemies Dick had that would carry a grudge?"
It didn't take long for Tim to come up with an answer. "Yes, an ex-agent named Jake Handles who went rogue. However, he was later killed when he went after Dick, but from what I learned, they never found a body. A building fell on top of him and it was never thoroughly searched. From what records I could find—with my expert skills—Spyral also enjoyed hiding things, including a privately owned, secret island nicknamed: 'Treasure Island' off the coast of Florida, in what's known as the Devil's Triangle."
"Isn't that where so many mysterious things happen, like planes and boats go missing?" Jon asked.
Tim confirmed that. And even pointed out the entire area ranged between 500,000 to 1,510,000 square miles, it's vertices Miami, San Juan, Puerto Rico and Bermuda. He then went through some long talk using scientific hypothesis, connecting violent weather phenomenon, gulf stream variation, and then pegging it against the every popular paranormal mainstream conspiracies, which he found unfounded, trying to formulate a one-way argument of how pockets of concentrated subterranean gas were the real culprit. When Tim was finished, Jason had his arms folded across his chest in annoyance and Jon looked half asleep.
"Sorry, I sometimes get carried away," Tim shrugged. "Can anyone contact Damian? I tried when I was in the waiting room, but it went straight to voicemail." Both Jason and Jon said no. "If he was wearing his Robin costume, I could track him through GPS, but he's wearing his customized Nightwing Junior attire and hasn't given anyone any details about it."
"I did find one of Grayson's escrima sticks in downtown Bludhaven" —explaining why he had been there— "some bum found it in an alley and I had to pay $1000 to get it back," Jason added. "That's not like Damian to just discard it—and where's the other one? I think half-pint's in trouble."
Jon agreed. "But how do we find him? Knowing Damian, he never announces to others what he's doing or where he's going. When we partnered-up, I literally had to drag things out from him. He eventually opened up, but he still likes to keep things to himself, then brag about it after the fact that he didn't need any one else's help."
"Yup, that's our Damian," Jason nodded.
"Maybe we should try this mysterious island?"
"Worth a try, kid, and at least it's a place to start looking," Jason said. "Tim, you stay connected, and keep us up-to-date on Dick. Jon-boy and I will check out Treasure Island and see what secrets Spyral likes to keep hidden. Maybe we even strike gold?"
"Or in Damian's case, a highly compressed lump of coal."
x x x
The first thing Damian did when he escaped the other room, with the eels, was turn right down an adjacent corridor. The floor was cold on his stocking feet and he told himself next time he had to wear socks. Wherever he was, the place was a maze of endless corridors and hallways, that seemingly lead in circles. He felt like he was getting no where, so in case his theory was correct, he banged on a wall and made a few dents, like making a trail. If he came this way again, he knew he was running in circles.
Leaving the corridor for an adjacent one, he was suddenly halted by what, unbelievably, was a lioness—a female lion. It was beyond fathomable that such an animal be here of all places, but he remained still, as it blocked his path, and looked at him. He didn't want to make any sudden movements or it would give chase and he'd be no match for its speed.
He backed up, and suddenly found himself surrounded. Yet another lioness had appeared behind him, seemingly, from whence he'd come. Had they been released through secret doorways in the hallways after he'd passed? He knew he was being watched, cameras were at every venue, so Annex knew exactly where he was at all times.
Damian thought quickly and recalled a few facts about the species. He knew the lioness did the hunting while the male of the species looked after the cubs, the male killing only for sport. Females normally hunt in packs between three to eight and killed to provide food for the Pride. Females liked to hunt in a broad front to drive their quarry into an ambush to block any escape route—which Damian was currently.
And yet he questioned why Handles would even have lionesses here? Logically, it didn't make sense to have them hunt in a labyrinth like enclosure, similar to the ancient Greek tale of the Minotaur.
At the moment, both lioness looked calm and non-aggressive. As long as he remained calm, they probably wouldn't attack. And yet, when the first lioness began to approach, that thought went straight out the window, and he backed up slowly against the wall. Unlike the normal gesture of surrender, putting one's hands up indicated an action to loins that was aggressive, so he kept his arms down.
But he had an idea, and allowed the lioness to get close enough for what he had planned. When it got close enough, he readied himself, and then flipped over it, narrowly missed by its claws as it swung at him. One nail did catch his pant leg and ripped it, but it was barely felt and it was only his tights, so there was no harm done. After, he ran down the corridor, the lionesses in pursuit.
He ran harder than he had ever run, and for a moment, he looked back, and then almost felt over when he halted in his tracks. The lionesses were not chasing him. He had taken mostly right turns, and one or two left ones—this was indeed a maze—and he knew the lionesses could seek him out by his smell alone. So, where were they?
He took a moment to calm down, feeling his heart racing, beginning to sweat. There was no way that he had lost them. Could they have been called back by their handler? That means, they might be released somewhere else down the line? That was rotten, he thought. Annex knew where he was, so he could release his pets anywhere he pleased, through secret doorways. So, he's have to keep his eyes peeled for hidden doorways. But he had to press on, nonetheless, despite the danger.
Thinking logically, he thought back to a lesson Grayson had once taught him. And it was called the Right Hand Rule when it came to mazes. He had said, most mazes follow a set pattern: Place you right hand along the right wall and follow that way, it may be the longer way, but it will eventually lead you out—in most cases. Grayson said he had done the same thing when he was in a maze with Wally West—Kid Flash, at the time—and despite the other's speed, Grayson had got to the exit first.
"Sometimes speed it a crutch, it often takes intelligence to outwit your opponent," Grayson had said, when he told Damian about it. "Think outside the box, and no matter how crazy it may seem, within probability, the solution will arise to a logical conclusion."
So, taking those words to heart, he placed his hand along the wall and followed the right path.
To be continued…
