CHAPTER 9
"Penguin Land"
Harvey hugged closer to the bus as it and the cars trundled through the streets. The shells of burnt out vehicles lay against the walls of buildings both left and right. The sky had darkened, rain falling faster and pattering against the roof of the bus, the yellow paint peeling off in large flakes and floating to the ground. Harvey kept his eyes in the shadows as they passed over the word 'fire' burnt into the tarmac.
"Just passed into Firefly's territory, Harvey," the bus driver muttered, changing gear. "I don't like to be the voice of doom but I thought I might forewarn you on that."
"Step on it." Harvey muttered, double checking his pistol was loaded.
"Yessir," he brought his foot down on the accelerator and the bus surged forward.
Harvey looked back at the following cars, glancing across at Bruce for a moment as the kid gripped the sunroof with one hand. Their eyes only crossed for a matter of seconds, but it was enough for Harvey to decipher the boy's emotions. He frowned. It was obvious Bruce was afraid by the twitching expression on his face, yet there seemed to be a hidden emotion underneath the layers of fear and hatred that lingered sheepishly amongst lost thoughts. He couldn't be sure what it was.
The bus took a corner slowly, the wheels crushing the fresh snow on the tarmac. Although Gotham had always been a vile place, it was strange for Harvey to witness its current half-dead half-alive state. He had, over the years, become accustomed to the city's loud streets and rather mundane townsfolk. Now, Gotham had fallen silent. It was unusual, and quite creepy, according to Harvey's new depiction. It had never been quiet in Gotham, ever.
The bus suddenly entered a sheet of dull smoke. It twisted into the windows and winded down the isle, past the injured people and folded wheelchairs. There was a buzz from Harvey's radio.
"Buckle up, boys," it crackled. "We're in for a real treat here."
Harvey coughed, eyeing the shadows intently. The cars behind disappeared into the smoke as they passed through gates of fire. Up above, buildings were flaming, illuminating the visable patches of sky. Something slithered in the darkness, dragging what appeared to be a large sack with it. A single pair of eyes followed the coach from a hiding spot between a dumpster and a pile of rubbish before disappearing into an alley. The bus began to pick up speed as people emerged from their hiding places and began to close in around it. Harvey aimed his weapon at one but didn't fire. They didn't appear to be hostile, at least for the time being.
He glanced to the right at the bus driver, whose hands gripped the steering wheel stiffly, before casting a look down the back of the bus. Jim was nowhere to be seen.
There was a sudden glare and Harvey swung his head round to be greeted by a great wall of fire that reached into the road with bright red tendrils. The flames reached up from the road, twisting upwards with the smoke and disappearing into the clouds of smog. The light reflected in Harvey's eyes as he glared up.
"Holy Jesus," he muttered, fumbling clumsily with the bar ahead of him for balance.
The bus continued down the centre of the road, the driver ignoring the bead of sweat that had developed from the top of his temple and was now making its way down his cheekbone. He couldn't decide if it was the scorching heat blaring from the windows or pure fear.
Flames licked the sides of the bus, attempting to curl in through the windows and engulf the people inside. The vehicle emerged from the other side of the wall and into an entirely new world; or so appeared to be. Ash was falling from above and settling on thre ground, coating cars along with the fine flakes of snow that fell with the rain. Harvey looked back - wondering why the fire hadn't been extinguished by the water droplets descending from the sky. He came to the conclusion that it was set alight with gasoline.
That wasn't a good sign. If the fire could burn in the rain, the GCPD and the patients were in grave danger.
Up ahead was a line of warehouses, placed perfectly side by side in the rising smoke. A factory was fitted in the centre, towering over every other building in the area. Its chimneys puffed out great plumes of smoke into the rain clouds, the sky almost black around it.
Harvey pulled the doors closed as the smoke began to curl inside, causing some of the patients to cough and splutter. He turned to the driver. "Ya might wanna pick up the speed, Pal. No pressure."
The driver nodded and gripped the streering wheel tighter. "Yeah, no pressure."
The bus surged forward and reached the factory that loomed up ahead as its headlights search the darkening surroundings. Dust particles caught in the beams and hung silently before being dragged down the side of the bus and fired higher into the air. The speck travelled lower to the ground before being whipped around by the passing cars. It passed Bruce in a flash of dull orange. He rubbed his right eye with his knuckle and blinked rapidly.
Bruce steadied his pistol and looked around anxiously, trying not to cast a glance at the factory. He wondered what it was making — after all, smoke was ascending from the chimneys. He tried not to think about it and instead made a mental note, if he was going to delve deeper into the problem now wasn't the time.
The bus turned left down a narrow road with terraced houses on either side. It was rather intimidating: the walls towering above and stretching further into the rain clouds. Bruce quivered and breathed out slowly. For the first time in around ten minutes someone spoke.
"Y'all right there, Sonny?" the driver asked. Bruce turned around to the man at the wheel and scanned over his wrinkling skin and soft blue eyes. The few strands of grey hair on the back of his head waved, almost in greeting to Bruce, as the wind travelling through the open windows tugged gently at them. The man was either in his late sixties or early seventies. "You seem a little nervous."
"Yeah, you could say that." Bruce answered emotionlessly, casting his attention back on the road ahead.
The man made a brief 'hm' and looked back at the road. "I'm sure we all are... but listen, you should try to keep your nerves in tip-top condition. If ya don't, you'll regret it by the time you're my age!" he gave a weak laugh and ended it with a smile.
Bruce sighed and tried to smile back as he sat back in the passenger seat, folding his arms.
The man took his hand off the gearstick and held it out to him. "The name's Tom, by the way. Tom Holland."
Bruce shook it. "Bruce Wayne. It's a pleasure to meet you, I just wish the circumstances were a little better."
Tom nodded and put his eyes back on the road as the rest of the cars turned another corner. "Same here, kiddo, but what can I say? It's better now than never."
"You're right," he forced a smile, even though his mind was on other things at the time. "So, Tom... how come I've never seen you before?"
"Wouldn't have expected you to, Bruce. I'm nothing but a lowly office worker at Gotham's Police Department." Tom shook his head. "Back in the good old days I was on the front line - fighting for everyone's freedom." he breathed out and his head hung slightly. "I miss those days."
There was a pause before Tom spoke again.
"I taught him, you know."
"Who?"
"James," Tom pointed a finger ahead of him where the bus could be seen turning at another junction. "He was a great kid; always following the rules."
"You taught Jim Gordon?"
"It wasn't official or anything, I was just his mentor now and then. I taught him all the greatest moves. We used to live in the same town, and when I left for Gotham, I thought I'd never see him again. How wrong can you be?" he grinned, his face creasing. "Just look at him now, he's the smartest cop in the history of the GCPD. I guess he learnt it from the best."
Bruce managed to break into a genuine smile. For once, he felt at ease. "So what was he like back then, when he first started training?"
"Heh, he was like a newborn calf trying to find his feet." Tom reminisced, looking up at the rain for a moment.
"I can't believe you there," he laughed.
"It's true, Bruce. James was about as helpless as all the other trainees at the time. The first time he fired a gun he nearly burst into tears, the poor lad didn't sleep for a week. Then again, he was ten, so who could blame him?" he stopped. "Looking at him now, I find it hard to believe he's the same person. Everyday I see him leading every cop in Gotham City out onto the streets to fight crime and bring help to those in need... but I still see that lost little boy clinging onto a blue bear. I don't think I'll ever see him differently."
Before he could continue, Bruce's radio burst into life.
"Hey, Bruce, how ya holding up back there?" Harvey crackled from the other line.
"Alright, I guess." Bruce casted a glance at Tom. "I made a new friend."
"That's good... I thought you might wanna know we just officially exited Firefly's territory, so we're out of danger for the time being. But there's only a thin boarder between here and Penguin's humble abode, so keep on the look out."
"Roger, that, Harvey."
"Over and out."
Bruce tucked away his radio and continued to look out of the window.
"Penguin, eh?" Tom muttered. "A strange bloke. Couldn't say I've ever met him and I couldn't say I ever want to, so I'll just have to judge him by what I hear. I often wonder if he's as crazy as he seems."
"You could say that."
"I mean, he's gotta be some level of nuts to go by 'The Penguin'. Personally, I think 'Oswald' suits him better." he said. "Couldn't say the same for 'Cobblepot', though. I wonder where he got that name from."
The radio burst into life. "We're in Penguin-Land, Bruce. Better keep a good eye out for trouble, I heard he's got a tighter belt of security."
Looking around, Penguin's territory looked almost the same as every other part of Gotham at that moment: covered in fallen buildings and dark patches from where fires had been set. Only here it was a little quieter... much quieter. Bruce stared around and creased his eyebrows, the skin under his eyes tightening.
The next corner they took was equally as deserted. There wasn't a single car, bird or person in sight. The following three turns were empty.
Bruce frowned. "What is going on around here...?"
A few moments later there was a sharp bang followed by a series of shouts and screams. The sound of bullets against metal and tyres screeching across tarmac startled some of the younger drivers ahead, causing them to surge forward. A sudden uproar accompanied a crackle of the radio as Bruce hit the button.
"Harvey! What's going on?!" he yelled. "I heard guns from behind, what's happening?"
Tom hit the accelerator as two cars sped ahead of him.
"There's been some kind of surprise ambush," Harvey replied. "Looks like Penguin's more prepared than we are. Bruce, don't stop to attack unless they get too close to the bus, we need to get out of here with spare bullets!"
"I hear you," Bruce threw the radio into the dashboard and drew his weapon whilest Tom got the car closer to the bus.
"You got this, kid." he nodded to Bruce.
Several enemy vehicles appeared in the mirrors, all of them accompanied with heavily armed guards and equiped with weapons of all sorts.
The group drew closer together as it sped through the streets, turning left, then right, then left again until they reached the main road. Bruce looked forward and caught sight of something large lying on the left hand side of the road, bricks from the building beside it sprinkled across the surface. A van.
Smoke was curling from the van's engine and escaping into the sky as the car drove past. Time seemed to stop as Bruce's eyes locked on the bright red colour scheme. He managed to read the tag on the side...
Jerome Valeska.
He suddenly darted to the dashboard and fumbled with the radio.
"Harvey! Harvey, did you see that?!"
"Sure did, for a second then I thought it was just my mind playing tricks on me."
"Jerome was here! Which means he-"
"-Was heading to Gotham General." Harvey paused before replying, stuttering his words. "We need to lose these guys, fast."
"Yeah, we do." Bruce shook his head and leaned out of the window, firing a few bullets at the rusty Volvo that was tailing them. It swerved to the right and crashed into another enemy.
An explosion followed that shook the surrounding buildings and sent dust flying into the air. Bruce coughed and reeled his body back into the car to avoid a shower of bullets aimed at him and the GCPD officers ahead.
Tom kept his eyes on the road, dodging a few potholes. "Valeska, eh?" he said suddenly, dragging the steering wheel to the left. "Another charming fellow I'd prefer not to meet."
A bullet slammed into the body of the car, causing a dent to appear the the inside. Bruce winded down his window and fired a few more bullets behind them as they narrowly missed a chunk of metal in the centre of the road.
The radio crackled again and Harvey's voice boomed from the other side. "We ain't got long till we're out of Penguin's territory! Keep it up, Bruce, they shouldn't tail us once we're out"
The bus skidded round a tight bend, the back wheel ever so slightly lifting off the ground. Inside, Harvey was trying desperately to calm the passengers inside.
"Alright, shut the Hell up!" he yelled, losing his patience as several people bombarded him with questions at the same time. Harvey hit his pistol on a metal bar to quieten them. "Sit your asses back on them seats!" He gestured with his hand abruptly.
The people took their places on the seats again and fell silent. A few moments later, a woman, whose arm was wrapped around a crying child, spoke.
"What is going on out there, detective?" her voice was soft and quiet, but Harvey could see she was losing her patience.
Harvey opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by a man.
"Are you trying to kill us, Bullock?!" he boomed. "This was a bad idea, and you knew it! You just wanna get rid of us, don't you?!"
Another man waved his fist in the air as they skidded around another corner. "Yeah!"
The bus suddenly erupted into angry shouts and sobs of young children. Harvey tried to shout over them but it was clear he'd lost control of the situation.
"That's enough!" a shout came from the back of the bus. Jim Gordon stood in the isle: one hand clutching his middle and the other holding a seat for balance.
"Jim, sit the Hell back down." Harvey wagged his finger.
Ignoring him, Jim raised his voice. "Listen, I know you're all scared." he said as something hit the side of the bus. A shower of bullets behind followed. "But we have to keep it together. This is Gotham! We've been through worse."