Here is chapter 3. I'm not particularly fond of it because it's mainly Terry's POV and i hate writing for him lol, but writing this has become a tad more difficult than i thought it would and now i just want to end it. Thanks to everyone who offered me support after the incident, and then even recently after i posted this story.
To the guest reviewer who pointed out that the characters are not like their tv selves, you're right. I perhaps forgot to mention that the characters here are OOC. The reason that they are OOC (mainly) is because this story I'm telling is my story. Max is passive because she's representative of me. Terry's not too knowledgeable about her family. I made a reference to Hooked Up in this story - so it's safe to assume that after that Max opened up to him about her home life. I wouldnt say Dana is manipulative, everyone knows her and Terry's relationship has been on again/off again throughout the series. She just wants her man back. What teenager won't attend a function that their ex is at if it means getting back together? The characters are in this situation because it's a story. I figured this would be the best story to get this craziness off my chest. As i mentioned before, it's based on true events. I got in an argument with my mother (more like she did the talking and i sat there and listened because i was not trying to get the shit beat out of me), i was walking home (though not from work) when a car came up behind me. To avoid getting hit, i stepped over a curb along the highway and slipped. I fell in a ditch that was so deep i wasnt visible from the road, snapping my left leg in half, fracturing my left ankle, and dislocating it. I had a major panic attack thing that my purse and groceries fell all over the place. i was so busy screaming trying to get the attention of the people in the building in front of me that i forgot i had a cell phone. But because i was on a highway no one could hear me, and apparently no one noticed me either from the building. I fell asleep in that snow covered ditch and just happened to wake up only because a man found me and woke me up and called for help. I was stuck in an emergency room for three hours just before they could find a doctor to give me anything for pain. Let me tell you, feeling every break and fracture and dislocation is NOT fun. I had to undergo two surgeries and months of PT just to learn to walk all over again. This is me taking my traumatic experience and trying to put it into a story to work as a healing process. But going into detail is painful and often times i can't even stand to type, much less remember. I almost died in that hole. Maybe i'm writing this story too soon - but writing is therapy and i thought after these couple years it would be easier, but it's not. hence the whole stabbing scenario. i HAD to put something more drastic that didnt happen to me in there just to keep my head. I probably shouldn't have wrote this story, BUT i've started it now and have to see it through. *shrug* But that's the great thing about fanfiction - the characters can be whatever we want them to be. We can involve events that would change their personality. And what's wrong with romance in the midst of chaos? Lots of stories, films even, have a crisis and relationships that blossom out of that crisis. It's practically everywhere on tv. Besides, Tax is what i do. My readers come to me for the TAX. But i thank you for your review. I always say reasonably constructive criticism is well appreciated and I'm glad you still took time to read it.
To the Legend of Korra comment reviewer: your very first review amused me. However, while i'm glad you enjoyed the hot mess, maybe you can keep LOK where it belongs - in LOK. My trauma is not some confused love tale. Thanks much.
The Ditch
Chapter Three
A Tense Pursuit
The room froze. Hearing her cry for help had given McGinnis a frightening pause…but it was when she screamed with such fear and agony that it echoed through the room that everything came to an immediate, horrifying stop. It was like everyone and everything around him had dissipated, and all he could feel was her own personal terror, and the terror in which he had for her. McGinnis's face paled and could feel the saliva glands in his mouth working overtime…he was going to be sick. And why wouldn't he be? Jokerz…Jokerz had Max? Terry opened his mouth to speak, to offer comfort even though he himself didn't feel any, but the line disconnected and the Neo-Batman after a moment of silence jolted back to reality and grabbed his pack off the couch beside Chelsea and began running for the front door – though not alone.
Nelson had his own cell in hand and practically jumped off the front porch after McGinnis. The jock slammed a fist into his archenemy's chest to momentarily stop the boy. "Hey, I hate your guts and all, but I'm gonna help." It was a statement, not a question. As far as McGinnis went Nelson could give a rats ass if the former delinquent jumped off the Gotham bridge – in fact he'd probably push him off himself – but when it came to Max, the smart mouth, lovable little geek that saw him as more than just a helmet head? Well, Nelson would fight for her in a hot second. He cared about her too – she was his friend, a real friend; and he'd never forgive himself if he didn't step in when she could have needed him most.
Terry couldn't even muster up the energy to think of a rebuke. Fact of the matter was he needed the help. Terry nodded quickly. "Fine. You take downtown, check the VRROOM and shiz." Nelson scoffed but headed into his sports car making a few calls before peeling out the drive. Dana stood on the front porch dialing into Chelsea's home phone multiple times as panic reached her features. Max was her friend too; romantic issues were immediately cast aside. She and Chelsea had thought that maybe Max was just late – neither of them could have ever imagined something like this was happening! Well, she knew that anything was possible – this was Gotham for pete's sake! – but not to them. Even when Chelsea had been through the craziness of that mad house, even when Dana had been trapped in the underground by that creepo with the rats, even through all that they never thought they would suffer under the hell of this city. But this and their situations only proved that no one was exempt from the dangers. The line picked up and Dana began speaking fast into the mouthpiece, turning her back to them and standing in the doorway so the operator could hear her better. He could hear her addressing what sounded like a 911 dispatcher.
McGinnis climbed into his car, but Chelsea was right there pressed against the window and he impatiently rolled it down. "Where are you going?" she asked unnecessarily with a squeak.
"To check around," he answered hard, trying to keep his Batman voice suppressed as he turned the key ferociously and sent the engine roaring to life.
Tears began streaming down Cunningham's face. "What can we do?" She was trying to keep her composure maintained…and failing.
Terry looked her over and sighed, placing a gentle hand on her arm; he could see that she needed something to do, something to make the girl feel like she was actually making a difference, a dent, in helping out. "Just talking to the GPD is gonna be a hassle. Contact the main precinct; tell em you need to talk to Commissioner Gordon, that it's an emergency and that McGinnis sent you. In the meantime keep trying to reach Max's cell. Maybe she'll answer and tell us where she is so we or the police can find her." He frowned at her slow, deranged nod. "We're gonna find her Chels." And without another word he had sped off, mind racing a hundred miles a minute…he just wished the car could catch up with his thoughts.
Why hadn't he just followed his gut and picked her up? Why hadn't he at least asked where she was? Stupid, stupid, stupid! Damn the Jokerz, damn Mrs. Gibson, damn MAX! The car accelerated as he raced through the Gotham highways. The world passed by in a hazy blur as nothing else mattered. Right now he needed to move fast. She sounded weak on the phone and – Terry scowled – losing blood. Time was of the essence. Even though he didn't know the girl's exact location the teen was pretty sure Max wasn't downtown where he'd sent Nash…unless she had been heading that way after they got off the phone? Terry shook his head, doubting that. She was heading home. Plus, when they were on the phone before and even just moments ago there hadn't been any substantial amount of background noise – no heavy traffic meant no busy streets: and downtown Gotham was unbearably busy on a usual basis. Sure anything was possible but McGinnis didn't make searching there his priority given it was the least likely place. Besides, he knew Nelson was gonna help whether he liked it or not – why not send him out of Batman's way?
He pressed an automatic call button on the car's touch screen radio as he turned off the highway and proceeded to that long winding private road. The line answered. "Open the door," Terry commanded.
"The garage door?" answered the old man's voice curiously.
"The other door," McGinnis growled. Silence answered but the road ahead of him descended into a lit underground tunnel. Terry floored it.
"Mind sharing some details?" asked Bruce, noting his protégé's sudden foul attitude.
"I need you to trace Max's phone."
From within the house living room Bruce Wayne turned away from the blazing fireplace where Ace was snuggled near comfortably asleep. The former Dark Knight raised a brow questionably, but used his cane as support and rose from the large leather arm chair, making his way to the grandfather clock and pulling the hidden lever. The clock slid across the floor practically in silence revealing a descending stairway. Wayne began to make his way down just as the sound of screeching tires met him. Bruce frowned. He hated it when McGinnis pushed the vehicles to the limit like that. Reckless kid. Wayne reached the bottom of the stairs to see Terry was already at the computer typing a set of commands into the keypad. His cell was in hand and was tugging a USB cord from the main panel, shoving it into the cellular.
Bruce sat down with a grunt into the chair, slapping Terry's hands away and taking over. Despite old age his fingers flew over the keyboard, typing in controls and commands that Terry couldn't even dream of understanding much less initiating into the sophisticated system. Almost instantly the cell phone lit up, and a set of code flashed over the main computer screen. When Bruce looked over his shoulder Terry was pulling on the finishing touches of his super tech suit. "I'm still waiting on those details, Terry," pressed Wayne, eyes focusing back on the screen, "and my patience is wearing thin."
Terry placed a small recorder chip-like object beside his boss's hand – it was something he'd snatched from the old man's arsenal and kept on him to test out later. Later came sooner than expected. Bruce eyed the device but plugged it into a secondary audio panel to the left. A small window popped up on the side of the computer and a line that measured sound ran through it. At first all he heard was Terry's cool voice asking where Max was with no answer before disconnecting. Then the call commenced again – once more there was initial silence until…there was a short sound, followed by an unknown male's voice cursing in pain; followed almost instantly by Max hollering Terry's name. Bruce shifted his eyes about as he listened to the conversation and stiffened at the screams. It sent an involuntary shiver up his spine. Terry commenced in trying to find Max's location, but she was so weak-. Bruce turned off the audio. He'd heard everything he needed as the old man once more began typing into the system. A second small screen popped up onto the main computer and Bruce's fingers tapped over the pad loudly.
"What are you doing?" Terry demanded when Bruce turned his attention to the other screen as opposed to the line of code flashing before them. "You're supposed to be tracking Max's phone!"
Brue never lost focus from what he was doing, although his response was just as snarky as the tone McGinnis was using; obviously irritated that Terrence was not thinking straight – even in the midst of stress it was his job as Batman to be able to keep his head to be able to configure clues and answers properly, which could lead to a plan that could potentially save the life or lives he was so concerned over. "And I am," Wayne replied. "But maybe you haven't noticed the code whizzing across the screen. So give me a second to break it down to you: In order to trace Max's specific device I have to hack not only her carrier's satellite, but also hack any other system that might be monitoring said satellite or code for potential terrorist activity that would have the FBI, CIA, and NSA right at my doorstep. That is a lot of code to whiz through without detection." Bruce patted the main control module respectively. "This computer might be powerful, but it's not careless; neither should we be. It's basically a digitized Batman – that should open your eyes wide enough." Terry huffed, tapping his foot with impatience. "In the meantime," continued Bruce, unscathed by the attitude, "while I work on the trace I'M going to search something else that might help, something I noticed Max said. And YOU'RE going to get out there and start looking. Once I get this narrowed down I'll contact you."
"Fine!" snapped McGinnis as he pulled the cowl over his face and jogged over to the Batmobile, leaping inside once the roof pulled back. Damn it. Even though he'd never admit it aloud, Terry absolutely loathed when Bruce put shit into perspective like that – mainly because he was usually always right…like he was right now. Though the teen was curious as to what Bruce claimed to have noticed – McGinnis hadn't picked up anything out of the usual (well, other than the usual). Could there really be something he missed? The thought of that was unnerving for the neo-hero. Batman touched a few buttons on the control panel and the lid closed while the interior lit up a vibrant red. The thrusters edged their way to life and the launch pad rotated for the tunnel he'd just entered in. Terry flipped a few switches above his head before gripping the throttle and pushing it forward – the Batmobile roared in response and lunged forward down the tunnel and then out into the evening sky surrounding Wayne Manor. It was getting dark. Very dark. He needed to find her fast. McGinnis headed for the first place to cross off his list. He gripped the handle and weaved through the buildings once he reached the Gotham downtown district. Down below he caught a glimpse of Nelson Nash's car parked in front of the VRROOM, and the jock talking with some young employee that knew Max's usual visitation periods like the back of his hand. He was a creepy kid, but meant no harm so Max tolerated him – and if Max tolerated him, then so did everybody else.
"Terry?" Bruce's voice came over the radio.
"Yeah?"
"Dana is calling your cell."
"Can you transfer her without disrupting the trace?"
Bruce sighed. "It will slow the process for a few minutes, but I suggest you talk to her – she's been calling nonstop since you left. Maybe they found Max?"
Terry eased on the throttle and brought the Bat mobile above the buildings skyline, hopeful. "Okay, patch her through." The vigilante took a deep breath as he heard the line click. Patched. "Dana?" he answered in his usual teen voice.
"Terry, where the hell have you been? I've been trying to reach you for forever!" Dana shrieked.
"I've been out searching. What's up? Did they find her?" he inquired, holding his breath.
Dana sniffled and took a deep breath to calm her nerves. He gave her a moment to settle and she appreciated it greatly. "No, they haven't found her. I called because Chelsea finally managed to get the Commissioner and Gordon said she's gonna send out a few squad cars to check out the usual Jokerz hideaways they know about. But Terry," Dana suddenly whispered. "There's something going on. Nelson called and said he heard something about Jokerz initiations and stuff tonight – that means any gang could be a part of this, and that the cops are gonna be swamped trying to stop the initiates from wreaking havoc. I honestly don't know how much help Gotham P.D. will be."
Terry raised a brow. "Since when do the Jokerz do mass initiations on one night?"
"I don't know Terry, but it's gonna be dangerous out there. What if the group that hurt her tells their friends? What if they all go back to her and-AND-!" Dana burst out into maddened sobs and McGinnis knew the fears that crossed her mind. Anything was possible when the Jokerz were involved. They could torture Max, sit and watch and her suffer, kill her…make use of her – Terry swallowed – inability to fight back.
"It's gonna be okay Dana," McGinnis assuredly consoled Tan. "We'll find her before then. Look, thanks for keeping me updated. Stay with Chelsea and if you hear anything from Nelson tell him to be careful out there."
"I will," whispered Dana. "You be careful too, Ter. I mean it, the Jokerz aren't anything to fuck with. They're total psychos."
By the time Terry was done with them they'd need psychiatric evaluation. McGinnis hung up the phone and brought the vehicle back down into the path of the buildings with a hard dive, whipping it at speeds that caused his belly to churn. The search was placed back in his hands, but regardless of whatever the GPD had on their plate tonight it wasn't like Terry McGinnis was going to leave the complete trust of finding Max with them. If they were so good at what they did, what would Gotham need Batman for anyway? No, this was personal and needed to be treated as such. First thing was first: he had to check out her apartment, make sure that there was nothing left behind that could serve as an indication for his best friend's whereabouts. Typically Max did what she wanted when she wanted without a care in the world about being accountable to anyone for her actions; when her parents were home, on the other hand, she tended to give them a rundown on her plans. The Dark Knight smirked to himself – even if they had a problem with it, it's not like they could tell their daughter what she could or couldn't do. Max was independent the majority of the time, even when her sister happened to be in town. They didn't pay her bills or take care of her – Max handled that herself. Hell, the girl was making a killing in credits with private tutoring sessions or doing jocks homework. Anything she needed or wanted she took care of. He had to admire that about her; she was always so optimistic, always open to seeing things from an outside angle. When things were rough and McGinnis or the Batman needed a different perspective, Max was the person to turn to. He'd asked her once how she was so inquisitive. Max had leaned back in her desktop chair and said contently, "When you grow up on the outside, things become waaay clearer. You get to see things in a better view than you ever could while inside." Damn she was too real for her own good. He loved that brash outlook, that confidence yet appealing compassion about her. Max was the type of person who could cut you up, but then try and help to piece you back together again; and everybody respected that about her.
Within a few minutes the future vigilante reached the desired destination and brought the car to an abrupt halt alongside the complex and initiated the autopilot as it hovered stealthily. The inside of the apartment was almost completely darkened and Terry climbed out the car, hopped onto the balcony, then slid open the window outside of Max's bedroom. As he crawled inside he took a deep memorable sigh. How many nights had he crept inside of here to pay the brain a visit – whether out of business, recreation, or the much needed patch job that she so readily gave? One too many accounts. She was always here waiting for him in some manner or other; the teen was used to seeing her smiling face welcoming him inside. But standing here in this emptied room with the knowledge that this was the last image he'd ever have of Max's room – dark, cold, empty – made his chest constrict painfully. Terry had never imagined what life would be like without seeing his best friend's deviously charming countenance awaiting him, but if this was any sign of what would face him then the boy wanted nothing to do with it. For the first time Terry wished that he'd never met Max – never come to have cared and relied on her so much…maybe then she would never be in the situation she was in…or maybe the idea of possibly losing her wouldn't hurt so much.
No. Now was not the time to even be thinking about something like that. He had to get moving. Batman wandered around the bedframe, eyes focused as he shook back the worries and put all attention on observing everything in caution and detail.
The bed wasn't made: and lying across the comforter was a change of clothes: a pair of dark jeans, and long sleeved open shouldered black t-shirt with the silver image of some vid game character on it. He squinted in thought. No, not a character, but an insignia. The heart from Kingdom Hearts. She loved that game for whatever reason. His mind wheels in remembrance: a few days ago Max had been talking about inviting Terry back over after the study group to teach him how to play…
Terry walked over to the dresser and picked up a piece of paper sprawled aimlessly on the furniture. Reading it he found it to be a plane ticket to Metropolis set for next month. Why would she have this just laying out like this? Maybe to use in her argument against Mrs. Gibson? Batman treaded out the bedroom and searched the rest of the apartment until arriving in the living room where the vigilante clenched his fists. No one had been here since the fight ended, he deduced. Max and her mother and sister left around the same time.
If by chance the youngest female of the Gibson family had come back home earlier in the day then there would be some kind of sign of a return. The lights would be on for one thing – Max always turned on the lights when she left in the evening or had no intention of coming home until late. She did this so she wouldn't be walking into a dark apartment, but also as a precaution. The complex wasn't exactly in a bad neighbor – in fact it was considered "luxury" – but still there were reckless petty thieves in every neighborhood; if it looked like someone was home the chance of an invasion or robbery diminished – common knowledge. However the apartment was darkened, meaning the last time someone was inside of it must have been hours ago earlier in the day; no lights had been turned on because the resident intended for someone to be back before dark.
Also, if she had come back she wouldn't have left the plane ticket just lying around. Max would have properly put it someplace where it could remain safe. And then there was the change of clothes. Why would Max just have clothes laying out in preparation like that if she wasn't planning on wearing them later on?
Terry gritted his teeth. She must have set these out for this evening to wear to the study group. But if they were still here in perfect condition that meant Max hadn't been caught by the Jokerz while on the way to meet her friends at Chelsea's. She'd been in trouble before even getting home…which suggested his best friend could literally have been anywhere between here and downtown. Max could cover a hell of a lot of ground when she was pissed and McGinnis was righteously peeved at that uncanny ability of hers right now.
The apartment door opened all of a sudden and with a flick of the light switch in walked Max's mom and sister chuckling like happy little hens much to the Batman's blatant irritation; that is, until they saw him. Max's sister gasped with a jump while her mother dropped a shopping bag and the daughter's keys on the floor alongside a shriek. "BATMAN?!" Mrs. Gibson cried. "What in the-?"
Batman glared and faced both women. Carefully choosing his words so as to not let on that he had any definite knowledge of them that could jeopardize his identity, the hero asked in a stern voice, "Are you Maxine Gibson's mother?" Astounded that he would even be addressing her, Mrs. Gibson nodded absentmindedly. He took a deep breath. "Your daughter is missing."
Mrs. Gibson's eyes widened in a brief flitter of concern before she smiled, dismissing the thought that anything like that was capable of happening to her family. "That's impossible. Max is with her friends."
Idiot. "No," growled Batman, "she's not. Her friends got a call from her. She's in trouble. She never got to them…and from what I'm seeing – never came home." He started to reach out as her sister fell to the ground in shock and the mother's mouth gaped open in disbelief. After listening to annoying whimpers that such news couldn't possibly be true the hero scowled. "Have you even TRIED calling her?" the vigilante snapped harshly.
Mrs. Gibson covered her mouth and grabbed the door to steady herself. "We…got into a fight," she whimpered as if that were some form of justification for being a horrible mother. "Wh-what happened? Where's my baby?" The mother struggled to stand upright to flaunt an air of superiority that right now had left her. "I want Max found!" Mrs. Gibson's voice attempted to threaten but rather squeaked under the pathetic attempt.
Batman scoffed and headed for the living room window where from here he'd still make it to the car with ease. "I'll find her." He engaged his jet boots and flew out the window with spread arms before landing flawlessly onto the roof of the midnight painted mobile and disappearing inside. He left the females behind in silence and pulled off, frowning in rage.
Out of the hours gone by not once did they think to see where Max was? What kind of mother was that? You get into an argument with your child who takes off for a walk in mother fucking Gotham City – and don't call even once to check on her? Who did that? No wonder Max couldn't stand to be in the same room as her self-absorbed mother for longer than fifteen minutes! She deserved more than that craziness. No one deserved to have a parent they butted heads with 24/7. McGinnis winced slightly – he and Warren didn't always see eye to eye, but even when Terry was a complete ass his father was always there to support and love him…up until the end. And it wasn't until Warren was gone that the teen finally saw just how much he loved him; Terry would die before no one realized how important Max was until after she was gone.
He whizzed over the new section of this area that was being renovated into a strip mall and townhouses. There were no street lights here, and he couldn't make out much in the darkening street but didn't bother to look. Max wouldn't take this risky way home; obviously the brain had enough sense not to even try it. He was confident in that. She had to be somewhere in between here and downtown…and he knew the right people to ask.
Max lay there in the greyish black evening nearly completely surrendered into sleep – but there had been an approaching hum that jolted the girl awake with a groan of pain and explosion of chills. So she wasn't dead yet after all: even still the ability to keep her eyes open was growing far more difficult than she could have ever imagined. But the sound – it was faint, yet somehow still powerful…sleek…like a purr…like the low calls of…Max's eyes popped with realization. Like the low calls of bats! She remembered telling McGinnis that his whip sounded like a blend of an engine and screeching bats – out of this world, beautiful as well as intimidating. And NOW that sound was coming towards her! There was no other car in Gotham with that engine! He was here. He had found her!
It approached closer from the left and she struggled to sit up as the female raised a hand to flag him down. He was here! He-. Max's face contorted in agony as she caught the black blur fly right over her at top speed and listened with horror as the vehicle drifted farther away from towards the opposite end of Gotham. "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Maxine hollered at the top of her lungs. "NOOOOOAAAAAAAAH! AAAAAAAAHHHHH!" She pummeled the sides of the channel with her fists as she beat the earth and cried aloud with fresh tears. "TEEEEEEEEEEEEEERRRRRRRRRRRRYYYYYYYY!" Though of course he could not hear her, and the world became silent and cold yet again.
In time her sobs quieted, and her body grew limp under the stress and strain to the point she no longer had anything left within her to fight. The chills stopped, the pain faded; succumbed in grief, Max had finally reached the conclusion that she wasn't going to get out of this. It was over. With her only savior flying by without even noticing her Gibson had officially lost ALL hope of living. It was over. And for the last time, Maxine Gibson accepted death willingly in all of its cold, soothing, welcoming glory and embrace.
Batman growled, punching a clown in the jaw with enough force that his jaw cracked out of alignment alongside a shrill scream before collapsing onto the hardened pavement. The hero of Gotham had been all over this damned city; this was the fourth Jokerz hell hole he'd invaded demanding information, and the third initiation the Bat had managed to cut short. And with every departure he made was the arrival of the seemingly always too late GPD. Yet no matter how many faces the young Batman had bashed in no one seemed to know anything about the pink haired black girl. A set of cop cars pulled up and out stepped Commissioner Barbara Gordon who gave the reimagined vigilante a disapproving glare before he took off for the skies. Terry didn't give a damn about whether or not she liked his antics right now – it was completely black out here and the weather freezing and steadily dropping. If he didn't find Max tonight he might never find her at all.
McGinnis sat down in the cockpit of his ride and made a call. "Bruce," the pupil impatiently began.
"I was just getting ready to call you."
"You got something new for me?" Terry questioned tensely.
"The trace is almost complete, about another eight minutes to go. And I've got that other search narrowed down. Ditch."
The youth hesitated with an upraised corner of his lip. "What?"
Bruce's hands could be heard typing in the background. "Max said the word, 'Ditch' before you lost the call with her. At first I thought maybe she was using some kind of new age lingo, or telling you to just forget about looking for her; but then it hit me." Wayne glared at the small screen in assessment before continuing. "It wasn't as complex as that. 'Ditch' isn't some kind of youthful code – it's a location."
Terry nearly slammed on the brakes as the young man practically screamed into the com-link, "Are you telling me that Max is somewhere near a ditch?!" All his fears seemed to jump from a 10 to a 100.
There was silence on the other line for a few seconds. "I think she's IN a ditch." There was an eerie quiet that answered the old man. "That's what I've been searching: public records of sinkholes, drainage systems, if it's in the ground I pulled it up – known about, and even nuisance calls for the city to handle. Problem is: Gotham is full of drainage systems or channels. So I narrowed it down to a ten mile radius around Max's complex. Once this trace wraps up I'll be able to get you an even tighter area to comb."
Terry let out a drawn sigh as he glanced at the clock at the center of his control panel – 6 minutes and 47 seconds. "I'm sending the list to your computer now, but in the meantime there's something you ought to know."
"Which would be?"
"Dana called again. I took the liberty in answering and she relayed a message. She said Nelson was coming out of the diner near Max's apartment—," Terry cursed internally. He told that asshole to keep his search downtown OUT of the Bat's way, "-and he overheard a small group of Jokerz talking about a girl they played with…said they might head back to see if she could still be any fun. Terry," Bruce tempted, "they said she's in a ditch."
Without another word McGinnis turned the vehicle around and headed back for the diner down from Max's apartment in hope of the clowns still being there or in that area. Max loved that diner to pieces; she claimed they had the best chili burger this side of New York, and often talked about taking him there to try it out. But Terrence never seemed to get the time to oblige. They spent most of their days picking up some fast food cheeseburger or something. He swore right now before God and everybody that when all this was over, he was going to that diner and would treat her to however many damn chili burgers she wanted; even if it forced him into bankruptcy.
The list of drainage systems and where they lead popped up on the screen and McGinnis paused his silent promises to evaluate it. A few he was able to cross off just based on their location – they were complete passages that Max would never even take, going actually a farther distance from her home and leading away from the subway or towards limited bus access. But the others? He saw Nelson's red sports car sitting in the diner parking lot, and much to Batman's relief, caught eye of a group of clowns converged around a raggedy truck. He turned on the camouflage and left the Bat Mobile in an alley beside the restaurant before leaping out the vehicle with his own camo initiated as the hero crept forward to hear the Jokerz current conversation in hopes of catching details on Max. Upon closer approach he recognized Max's favorite jacket donned upon the female clown. How badly he wanted to reach out and yank it off her drugged up frame.
"Can we go back to play with the girl?" inquired the female Jokerz with an annoying whine, running her hand along the obvious crew leader's chest.
A set of twins sipped on their drinks in unison. The better looking one of the two rested a foot on the back tire of the truck. "Her scream is one hell of a turn on." His brother chuckled, punching him in the shoulder admiringly.
"She's probably dead by now," stated the overweight giant solemnly through bites into a giant hunk of carrot cake, earning himself a compassionate pat on the back by the handsome skinny twin as if to say, "you'll get used to it, big guy."
The leader of the crew leaned back on the hood of the car with a longing sigh. "Nah. As much fun as she is, we've got initiations tonight. Remember the last time we didn't make it to Rowdy's initiation ritual because we were having fun?" The rest of the laughing gang gave an ominous shiver. "We'll see if she's still alive afterward. And if she is," he gave a devious smirk, "it'll be great to see how much fun a popsicle can be." But his rising chuckle was cut off almost instantly by an unseen force gripping and clamping down on his throat. The Jokerz released the girl on his waist in panic and grabbed at the air, somehow surprised when his hands managed to grip something. The rest of his crew gave shouts of surprise and attempted to attack the unknown entity out of protection for their leader, only to be quickly dismissed by a sudden explosion of nerve gas that had them keeled over on the ground in painful discomfort. "Wha-aaahck!" the Joker struggled to speak through breaths.
"Question," came a voice as slowly the air around them evaporated to reveal a buff figure engulfed in black, that red ominous insignia burning so prominently that it evoked misery within the clown. Batman's white cowled eyes furrowed dangerously. "Did this 'popsicle' have pink hair?" He squeezed the throat tighter, causing the clown's eyes to roll. "Well?"
"Yeh….ahhhck! Ugh! Yesh-ughck!"
"McGinnis," came Bruce's voice over the com-link. "The trace is complete. The phone appears damaged so I can't give an exact location, but I can put you in a two mile radius of her. Sending the map to you now."
Good. Between that and this asshole's directions he would have Max in no time. Things were starting to look up for the night. "I'm going to ask you once, and only once." The Batman brought the teen's face closer with bared teeth and a voice that revealed something frightening as he commanded in a growl, "Where. Is. She?"
He'd left the clowns sprawled about the diner parking lot completely unconscious and called Gordon with directions on where to get them before taking off through the alley, following the coordinates on the map and the clown's description of where she was. Both accounts revealed the back alleys that ran the length near the construction site for the revamped residential area not far from Max's house. Part of Batman couldn't believe that the coordinates were correct because this area as it was right now wasn't the best place for anybody to be traveling down. He was pissed because Max should have known better than this! But he was also disbelieving because just a while before he'd flown right over this sector and saw nothing. Could it be possible that he'd gone right past her without even noticing it? That thought petrified him to the core.
He turned on the spot light and began combing through the on and off again drainage channels on both sides of the road. He spotted trash and homeless people huddled against one another to block out the cold, but so far nothing else. "Damnit Max!" he growled low, pushing farther ahead. "I'm not seeing anything Bruce," he told the old man on the other line.
"She's there Terry." Bruce was watching through the Bat Mobile's exterior camera to see if he could spot something that his protégé might miss. Two eyes were better than one.
"No, she's not! I-," his voice cut off instantly as the light shone on something red soaked into the white snow of an incredibly deep channel. McGinnis swallowed and edged the light further up the length of this particular system, noticing the line of red was getting thicker and thicker the farther up he went. Oh God.
Then he saw her. The light was right on her and the pink hair was a dead giveaway. For a brief moment he felt astounding relief, but at her stillness he felt his heart sink. Why wasn't she moving? The lid lifted from the car and Batman stared down at her over the edge. "MAX!" he hollered. But there was no answer. He dropped down from the car and landed some feet away; then took off like a bat out of hell until he stood over her with a terrified gaze. Looking down at her left ankle the boy nearly threw up at the sight of it lying completely flat on its side, swollen. He could make out the bone in the left leg poking up against the fabric of her pants and couldn't even imagine the agony that she must have felt. Max was lying on her back, one hand limply resting again her side as red liquid stained between the fingers and pooled all about her. "Max?" Batman dropped to his knees and reached shaky hands for her greyed face and touched her icy cheek with a gasp. Her eyes were closed as if asleep, but this couldn't be sleep…she wasn't answering him. "Max," he tried again, giving her shoulder a gentle shake. "Max!" Still no answer, no sign of life. Terry shook his head as his face crumbled in agony under a horrid realization. "MAX!" He slipped his hands underneath the girl's back and pulled her body upwards, feeling her body slump lifelessly against him as her head dropped back and hand fell into the snow. "Max!" he whimpered, touching her face. "Wake up Max! I'm here. I found you! MAX!"
"Terry, she's gone."
"SHUT UP!" McGinnis screamed at the Bat Mobile angrily before turning his attention back to his best friend. "No! No no nooooooo! MAX! DAMNIT MAX! WAKE UP! MAAAAAAAX!"
He laid her back down in the snow, cupped his fists together and pressed them against her chest; then began pumping into her frame repeatedly, counting out numbers aloud. "1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6,-Max!" He pumped a few more times before tilting her chin back and covered her mouth with his own – he blew, feeling her chest rise with the intake of oxygen. McGinnis pulled back and looked at her. Still nothing. Desperate he began roughly pumping into her chest again.
"Terry…"
"Either you call an ambulance or shut the fuck up!" Bruce remained silent and watched as the lad commenced the CPR through teary eyes. The old man zoomed in on Max's face and couldn't stop the thought that came to his mind: She looked so peaceful.
"MAAAAAAAAAAAAX!"
To Be Continued…
This story should hopefully be wrapped up in about one or two more chapters.