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Jack POV
"Johnny-boy, I suggest you answer correctly this time. Where is she?" Another whimper echos throughout the concrete basement as I tighten the garden shears on his right index finger. A grin forces its way onto my face as his eyes beg for something human in me to release him. Sadly, that wont be happening tonight.
"I don't know where she is! She's running with Gambol's guys...Somewhere north of 135th street. That's all I know, I swear!" His voice cracks in mid scream causing a pleasurable sensation to roll down my spine as the shears crack through the bone and the finger plops onto the ground with a light thud.
"Some guy! He's black with cornrows, calls himself Crow!"
"Ohhhh I see. Now how about you tell me why you sold her the snow? Hmm?" The thought of my daughter injecting herself with something as bad as heroin makes my stomach cramp. I told her I'd always protect her, and I've failed her. Rage boils under my skin and I can practically see heat radiating off of myself. Johnny will be lucky if all I do is cut his grimy digits off.
"She paid for it man. I gotta make a livin'. They're peddling it for Gambol, I'm just one step above them, man..." I barely manage to blink before my hands plunges the shears into his neck. A strung out gurgle spills form his lips and his eyes widen. Death is as good as justice some days.
The smell of urine and garbage stings my nose and makes my nose prickle as I enter an alley just off of 135th. Starting at the beginning is always a good idea when searching for someone. My eyes flick to a slight movement behind a dumpster and I instantly push myself behind a small alcove. I peak my head around and see a small figure wearing a hoodie talking to a scruffy looking man. The small figure turns slightly to check the surrounding and I feel my heart jump. I have to control myself from running out there and scaring her off. She turns back to the man and he slips her a wad of dollar bills and in exchange she pulls out a tiny baggie of white powder from inside her jacket and hands it to him. He grins and runs off in the opposite direction leaving her standing there. She counts the money and stuffs it in her pocket. She sighs and leans up against the wall as if she is waiting for someone to show up. As soon as I get the guts to move over to her I have to hide again because a car starts coming down the alley. It stops right in front of Jackie and a door swings open, She hops right in and the car speeds off. I'm barely able to catch the plate number before they are gone and out of sight. This boy, Crow, doesn't know who he is messing with now. I will get her back if it is the last thing I do. I flip open my phone and dial Ace's number, and we are instantly on our way to tracking down that car.
"Daddy's on his way babygirl..."
JACKIE POV
I lean against the wall as my buyer for the day walks away down into the grimy darkness of Gotham Cities narrows. I let out a sigh and turn towards the light at the end of the alley. I can hear my ride turning before I see it come into view and I prepare to hop in. I never feel safe out in the open lately. Indoors, inside of buildings and alcoves and in shadows suits me better. Cops are just waiting for people like me in alleys. People like me, Ha! When did I become one of "those" people.
Crow pulls the car up and I hop in before it has time to come to a full and complete stop. I pull on my seat belt and I'm handed a sterile needle in a pouch, a syringe and a belt. I wrap the belt tightly, pat the crook of my elbow four times and inject the needle into my waiting veins. I immediately start to feel less nervous and sick as soon as I pull the hollow metal out of my skin. I toss the used needle away and stare at the roof of the car listening to Crow and the other birds talk to one another. Their words melding together into an exotic slurred song as the drugs take effect on my mind. They have started calling me Jay, like a blue jay. There is Robin, Crow, me and a few other's that I don't care to learn their names. We all work for the same guy and do the same stuff, so who cares what they go by. They also come and go as they please for the most part. Robin and Crow are always around though.
I look up when we pull into the garage and everyone piles out of the car into the shitty apartments we call home for now. If two bedrooms, a bathroom with no sink, and a "living" room with a kitchen inside all carpeted with the same flea infested brown shag carpet counts as an apartment. I climb up the stairs and make conversation with the guys as I find my blanket among the piles of stuff on the floors. Since moving in a few weeks ago I have managed to put together a small collection of belongings. A black comforter with red-orange bleach stains that I found hanging on a fence outside of the church on 122nd avenue. A brown leather jacket with the satin pockets ripped apart. I sewed it back together with dental floss good as new. I also found a few pairs of jeans that fit reasonably well, and a few t-shirts that I stole from the goodwill trashcan. Not fit to sell, but fit to wear if you ask me, and some underwear I stole from Wal-mart. All the guys I live with are the same as me, living off of societies scraps. It has made me grateful for what I used to have. Friends, family, shopping trips, warm food. I took all of that for granted my entire life. Now when the shower sprays luke-warm water or we make a box of mac-n-cheese we all feel pretty spectacular.
Crow cries at night. It seems a small detail, but he does. I don't know what he cries about or anything. I just notice it. After Robin has drank himself into whatever place he drinks himself into and I have curled into a ball under my blanket and fall to my own house of horrors in my mind, I can hear him sniffling. Sometimes he whispers names to himself while he does it. Mostly, "I'm sorry," and a few choice names like "Mom" and "Mike" come up often. I don't know what he feels so sick and sorry about, but I understand the just of it. It's the same thing that happened to me. Something sudden and life changing and he would do anything to go back and change a decision he made that he thinks would somehow magically change the entire outcome of his life. If he had just said yes instead of no. Or if he had just stayed by his mom instead of running away. Or if he had just accepted whatever was said and not gone darting away with nothing but the shirt on his back and a trail of broken dreams and hurts behind him leaving his father standing alone without anyone to talk to in his uncles basement. If he had just swallowed and dealt with it he could be…- never mind it's not important. He cries at night, that's the point I'm making here.
I think about Dad a lot. He is still looking for me. Batman is looking for me to, that is why am so paranoid about being outside. If my dad fails in finding me, Batman won't. I'm sure he is looking for me because the Joker is. And anything the Joker is looking for is something that is going to be on top of Batman's list and anything on Batman's list is going to be priority number one for the police. The guys really are to strung out to notice that I'm being looked for. They take my nervous ticks while out as part of who I am as a drug dealer and let it rest. We all have our demons, they just assume nervous ticks are one of mine. Like, I could swear I saw my dad in the alley today, but it couldn't have been because he would have stormed up and grabbed me, obviously. I think I was a just tired and hallucinating. I haven't been sleeping well. It's either the drugs or my life falling apart around me at a faster rate than I originally thought possible.
All the guys are finding their vices for the night. Robin picks his bottle and takes a seat on the couch and I find my comforter and close it around me trying to think of anything than my life and everything and everyone in it. And Crow puffs a cigarette and gets a haunted expression on his face as he stares forwards without blinking. Robin starts to make conversation and Crow and I laugh and take swigs out of his bottle of cheap clear booze, but no one is really interacting. This is not a life anyone chooses to live. Eventually we all get silent and brooding and Robin passes out and I curl into a tight ball around the pit in my stomach where I keep the razor sharp shards of my life hidden away, and Crow starts to sniffle and whisper about his mother and Mike. And the darkness closes in like a cave with no openings and the wind whistles by the windows like ghosts singing to the mournful tune of our lives. Everything is horrible, but normal.
And then the garage door underneath the apartment opens… and everyone shoots out of their stupor and then a window shatters open in the right side bedroom. Within seconds the Joker is in the front door way and a dark cloaked figure is in far corner in the shadows and both are looking at each other and not at any of us. I let loose one small word with my out going breath, "Dad." He looks at me, his face snarled and covered in facepaint and I can hardly stand it.
"I'm coming, Jackie." I hear him whisper.
R/R