Insanity. Insanity is what this night is, insanity is what I'm wearing, and insanity is what Jaida is, along with a few other choice terms.
I'll have to be quick, anything less will almost definitely get me shot, and the possibility of a broken neck hovers unpleasantly in the background. Just like the first time I leapt from roof to another, I take three deep breaths.
One.
Two.
Three!
I fling myself off the edge of the building, dropping down two stories like a giant paperweight. The rope anchored to a pipe on the roof does little to slow my progress, and what had in my mind a quick descent in the style of rappelling became closer to low-altitude sky diving.
Terrifying. Another good word to describe this wacked-up night.
At least my aim is more or less accurate. I land between the muggers and the victim, totally and completely freaking them out, seeing as no one ever bothers to look up. It only takes a split second, though for the seasoned big guy to raise his gun towards me. Reflexively, I kick out my leg and catch his wrist. I glance over my shoulder to see where Leprechaun ran off to, and see him clotheslined by Jaida- excuse me, Nightingale -as he tried to make a panicky retreat. That was my first mistake, Smoker taking advantage of my distraction and landing a hard punch to my collarbone.
Shock mixes with the adrenaline in my veins, and pain blossoms. I've never been honest-to-god hit before, never been intentionally hurt, and it takes my breath away. It's worse than when a stray blow gets past my blocks in self-defense class.
My legs crumple beneath me, and I distantly hear shrieks that make me wonder if Leprechaun got an eyeful of pepper spray. Then I'm being lifted, lifted by my collar and slammed into the wall by Smoker.
Something in my mind clicks as I lock eyes with my assailant, and my entire body relaxes before I quickly bring my knee to meet soft stomach. A grunt, and my feet return to earth as the big guys doubles over. I'm not even sure what I'm doing anymore, my body acts on its own, and an elbow crashes down on the exposed back neck. The big guy is completely down, presumably unconscious, and I turn to check on how Mr. Nice Suit is dealing with this latest development.
He should be... right... there... In the corner. The empty corner. As in, the corner devoid of anything but a couple beer cans and a McDonald's wrapper. I guess... he got away? Slipped away during the fighting? My mind is trying to wrap itself around this explanation, when suddenly Jaida screams from the other end of the alley.
"NO!"
Her voice is slightly strangled sounding, and I twist my body around to help her when I see what she sees: half-kneeling, the big thug is laughing wheezily while pointing his reclaimed firearm directly at me. As the whole world slows, I can feel each second pass, and I throw myself to the side as he pulls the trigger, all of it in slow motion. Each of my heartbeats is slow and exaggerated, and I watch the bullet as it speeds by and buries itself into the wall, missing me by much less than acceptable.
Now Jaida is behind Smoker, and in her hands is the pipe that Leprechaun had. Without hesitation, she brings it down as hard as she can across his back, and he drops like a rock.
We stand there, panting, for a minute. Then she holds out her hand and says, "Come on. Let's go home."
I take Jaida's outstretched hand, and she helps me up. "Hang on," I say quickly, "We can't just leave them here like this."
"Duh! Of course you're right. We should tie them up in case they wake up."
"Um, that, and I think you might have given this guy a concussion. Maybe we should make sure we don't need to call an ambulance before we call the police."
Jaida is skeptical, and rather unwilling to offer aid to criminals. Eventually, though, I convince her. "After all, that's what doctors do, isn't it? They help people."
It doesn't take long to tie the two crooks up; it takes even less to do what I can to fix them up. Smoker seems relatively unharmed save for a large goose egg, his thick skull protecting him from the worst of Nightingale's wrath, while Leprechaun receives a brisk wipe-down with a couple sudecon wipes, special towelettes designed specifically for neutralizing pepper spray. After I've done my part, Jaida takes over- rifling through their pockets for any identification.
I'm about to suggest that we go when she snorts in derision. "What is it?" I ask, looking over her shoulder. In her hands are two open wallets.
"I knew I knew that guy," she crows, pushing one of the wallets into my hands. "He's Mrs. Bateson's nephew. I can't believe he's gotten into trouble already, he only just came to town a month ago. Ooh, just wait 'til I make sure he gets a real tellin-"
"No! Are you crazy? We can't tell anyone about tonight! We broke so many laws tonight! If we're lucky, no one will come looking for us, and it can be like this whole night never happened." As I'm talking, I pull Jaida over to the ladder, urging her to move up it so we can leave the way we came.
Laughing, she obliges. "Who's gonna look for us, Em? Those guys? The cops? Batman himself, with the whole Justice League in tow? Why are you so scared, we owned this hero thing!"
"Let's just get out of here, we can talk about it later."
