91. For the Queen of Strings part 2
Robin glared coldly over the dashboard as he steered the wheel and careened us around a semi-truck on the shoulder of a two lane country road. Trees, telephone wire posts, and junctions flew past us like the shutter of an old silent picture camera. Honking cars of other drivers on the roadway shrieked past us like irate sirens clinging desperately to their rocks from the backblast of our rocketing down the road.
To say the least, I was adequately pressed back into my chair and as pale with fright as a ghost during the two-hour plunge across the state to the ravaged town of Barrymore. My fingers clenched so tightly around the Jesus bar that my knuckles were tight. I gulped.
"Johny Rancid….," Robin mumbled. "If there's anything about him that I hate, it's his attitude."
HONK!!! HONNNNNNNK!!!
We barely swerved to miss a white minivan.
The T-Car's wheels squealed and regained traction as we barreled down the road.
"He can't settle for beating back me or any of the other Titans. He has to yell in our faces and try to make us feel lower than dirt in the process. While—at the same time—he burns around with no respect for human life."
SCREEEECH!!!
We pulled out of the way of a pickup truck and nearly ran off road.
Robin calmly jerked the wheel back.
We lurched to the left.
I cringed.
We rocketed onward.
"Anyways…," he coolly went on. "It's not so much that I hate his guts, but rather I hate what he could be doing to people if we don't get there in time to put an end to his rampage. A person like that wouldn't mind if he ran over a kid with that monstrous motorcycle of his. To be honest, I'm not exactly sure how he kicks so much butt while riding a harley. Hang on a sec—"
He yanked the wheel to the left.
I covered my black eyes under my shades.
The world twirled around us as he spun the T-Car into a sharp turn towards the west. A mountain range loomed on the immediate horizon.
I moaned.
"Relax…," Robin said. "I'm going to need you. Rancid has never fought you or your sword before. You'll come in handy big time."
He pushed the throttle further, if that was even possible.
The speedometer read '120'. And still he wasn't satisfied.
"Hmmm…we're a bit slow. Guess I should hit the nitro."
And he hit the nitro.
The sky practically fell through the windshield.
If I had vocal cords, I would have been whimpering.
-T-T-T-T-T-T-
SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEECH!!!!!!!!
A mother and her child ran across the street, shrieking. An old man held the door to a hardware store open and frantically slammed it shut after the two scurried in.
Elsewhere, three teenagers were running for their lives and diving into the back of a pickup truck that took off towards the far end of Main Street.
Everywhere, people in Barrymore were fleeing from the street and taking cover in buildings and on top of vehicles and anywhere else away from a two-wheeled death machine swirling about, kicking off dust, and thundering the air with the heavy noise of an obscenely massive engine.
"YEAAAAAH!!! HA HA HA!!!!" an adequately drunk Johnny Rancid waved a beer bottle in one hand and revved the engine of his black metal motorcycle with the other. He wore faded blue jeans, a leather belt, and a black wife beater shirt that clung half-heartedly to his rippling muscles. His dark, shadowed eyes were bloodshot and his scraggy black hair twice as much out of order as he shook his head and let out a wild cry. He kicked his legs up and throttled forward. He sailed like a black bullet down the middle of main street. He leaned hard to the right and skidded his cycle to a stop. The vehicle slid up onto a curve and its rear smashed effortlessly through two newspaper vendors and a post office drop box. SM-SM-SMASH!!!! "WOOOHOOO!!!" He took a big swig of his drink and wiped his mouth with his forearm and hiccupped. "Hic!! Barrymore?! Who the crap named a town 'Barrymore'?! Maybe I should just rename this dump 'blood gulch' and have done with it!" He glanced over and saw an old couple scurrying across the road. He sneered. "But gotta make this town a namesake first. HA!!" He revved the engine, skid, and barreled down after the two senior citizens.
The old man and woman gasped. They tried in vain to scurry over a fence.
The motorcycle bore down on them.
Townsfolk shouted from windows of two story building fronts down mainstreet.
The two citizens clawed at the fence.
The wheels flew up gravel and asphalt dust a few yards away…closer…closer…
"HA HA HA HA!!!" the punk laughed maniacally and waved the bottle as he flew in on their backs like a missile. "Allow me to burry your bones for free!!!"
SWOOOOOSH!!!
Something white and blue swerved in his way.
"Huh?!?!"
CLANK!!!!
Jonny Rancid's motorcycle struck the side of the parked T-Car so hard that it literally flipped forward and over the fence that the couple were trying to climb over.
"WAAAAAAAH!!!" the man shouted pathetically.
CLANK!!!!!
He landed in a junkyard on the other side.
The windows to the T-Car rolled down.
Robin peered through one at the old couple. "I'm sorry, is this spot taken?"
The two oldfolk smiled and bowed in thanks to us.
Robin smirked. "Stay clear!"
He put the car in reverses and swung us around. He then throttled us forward and circumnavigated the fence. We entered through the front of the junkyard via a dirt road off of Barrymore's main street and approached Johnny Rancid.
The villainous roadster was just finishing setting his motorcycle upright and 'saddling' up again when we skidded to a stop between two piles of abandoned, rusted appliances.
"Hey!! Idiots!!" Johnny Rancid hiccupped and frowned as he gripped the handles to his bike. "You made me lose my bottle!!"
"Be thankful we didn't make you lose your head!!"
WHURRRR!!!
Robin swiftly lowered the convertible top to the T-Car. He put the car in part, unbuckled, and stood up with one foot on the dashboard—standing like a pirate—before pointing with a frown at the cyclist.
"The joyride is over, Rancid! You're coming with us in one piece….or you're coming with us in one really nasty, bruised up piece!"
"Oh! It's you!" Johnny Rancid grinned evilly. "I've been thinking a lot about you in prison, bird boy!"
"Been without a girlfriend that long, punk?"
Even I had to snicker at that.
"It was the likes of you, stupid kid, who threw me in the slammer!! How about I slammer you back to your mother's womb?!"
"Sheesh," Robin made a face with eyebrows raised sympathetically. "You are drunk!"
"And you're roadkill!!! RRRRRAAAUGH!!!"
VROOOOOOOM!!!!
Johnny Rancid zoomed his motorcycle straight at us.
Robin folded his arms. He frowned.
"Take the wheel."
I did a double take.
WOOSH!! Robin pulled out a fan of birdarangs.
"Take the wheel and go in reverse….Noir!!!"
I gasped. I nervously unbuckled and dove into the driver's seat—still warm from Robin's piloting—and shifted us in reverse. I slammed my foot on the gas.
SCREEEEEEECH!!!!!
The T-Car barreled backwards through the junkyard.
"AH HA HA HA HA!!!! BACK OFF!!!" Rancid bellowed as he approached us, front tire first.
I looked behind me, teeth gritting, as I struggled to steer us safely around the piles of junk while in reverse.
In the meantime, Rancid's motorcycle was almost grinding the front of Cyborg's Baby's hood.
And also in the meantime…Robin was letting out a growl and flinging the discs at the approaching villain one at a time.
"YAAUGH!!! RRRGHH!!!"
SWIIIISH!!! WOOOOSH!!!
CL-CLANK!! CLANK!!
The discs embedded in the metal structure of Rancid's motorcycle. Barely missing his limbs.
"HEY!!!" he shouted. "Get your own dartboard, brat!! Yaugh!!"
He throttled an extra burst forward.
WHUMP!!!
The T-Car lurched as Rancid's front wheel made contact.
I jolted.
Robin held his breath and leapt forward in mid-impact. He flipped over Rancid's motorcycle and landed agilely on his feet. No sooner had he landed that he unleashed a grappling hook that swirled around the back structure of Rancid's motorcycle and pulled taut. Robin gritted his teeth and held on tight as he was dragged behind Rancid on his feet, his boots grinding dirtily into the ground.
The tad extra weight of Robin set Rancid off balance.
"Whoah!!!"
SCREECH!!
He gained control of his bike and careened off and past the T-Car. I yanked the wheel to the side and shifted gears. The T-Car swirled to a stop, and I watched—panting—as Rancid zoomed off past a pile of junk.
Robin—dragged by the grappling hook cord—somehow managed to vault himself upward from the blurring ground. He positioned his swinging pendulum body sideways, 'ran' along the side of a junkpile, and leapt again…this time sailing outward and landing with his legs wrapped around the back of Rancid's seat. His chest to Johnny Rancid's backside, the Boy Wonder reached his gloved arms out from behind and wrestled with the driver.
"Nnnnnghhh!!"
"Waaaah!! Get off me, you little monkey!!"
"Hurt me more!! I can take it!! Now can you?!?! Rrghh!!" Robin yanked hard to the left with his arms.
Rancid let out a shout and the motorcycle veered violently. He barely maintained control—and balance—as the two wrestling 'riders' meandered in and around mountains of waste and degrading metal.
I swallowed, shifted the T-Car into gear, and sped off to catch up with them.
In the bobbing vision of the junkyard beyond the dashboard, I saw the two careening around a mountain of rusted car parts. I slowed the acceleration a little, eyeing the landscape cautiously through my shades. Then---VROOOOM!!!—Rancid's motorcycle swerved around from the other side. The dark haired punk and Robin fought and struggled atop the bike as it came directly at me.
I bit my lip. I looked at the myriad of buttons on the dashboard.
The bike roared towards me. Closer.
I saw a button marked 'front shield'.
The world shook as the bike came on me. The grunting voices of Robin and the motorcyclist entered my ears.
I jammed my finger over the button.
CH-CHTUNG!!!
The bumper descended and an iron sheet protruded out from the front of the T-Car at an angle.
CLANK!!!
VROOOOOOOM!!!!
The bike ramped over the T-Car.
I gasped and spun around, looking at the vehicle flying overhead.
Robin leapt off the bike in midair.
Rancid let out a blood-curdling squeal as the bike swiveled horizontally in its flight, bounced off the top of a pile of discarded appliances, and miraculously landed more or less upright.
CLUMP!!!
"Nnnnghh!!" Johnny Rancid jolted from the impact of landing. His whole body tensed and his eyes clenched shut. A beat. He blinked his dark eyes open. He relaxed. "Wow…I…I-I made it!"
SWOOOOOOSH!!!!
Robin swung in via grappling cord.
WHAM!!!!
He kicked Rancid off his bike and the motorcycle tumbled to the ground on its own.
"Augh!!" Rancid shouted as he rolled on the ground.
Robin landed in a crouch, gritted his teeth, and whipped out his metal staff.
Rancid stumbled up to his feet. "You're a real pain in the ass, you know that?"
Robin's eyemask thinned. "Sorry if I don't kiss it and make it feel better." Robin then charged with a growl. SWOOOSH!!! The metal staff kissed the air.
Rancid ducked.
CLANK!!!
The staff struck a pile of junk behind him.
The biker kicked his leg out.
WHUMP!!!
Robin jumped back and slid to a stop in a fighting pose.
Rancid grinned and reached—almost blindly—behind his shoulder and took a huge, metal baseball bat out from the pile. "Well then, you little turd…," he stood up and palmed the bludgeon smugly. "Let's see what your skull's made of on the inside."
"Try me."
"RRRRAUGH!!!" Rancid ran forward and swung the bat so hard, it formed a crater in the earth.
Robin leapt up just in time, flipped over Rancid, and landed in a kneel on the other side. He jabbed backwards at the biker's feet.
The biker fell down, tumbled, rolled onto his knees, and stood up in time to meet the Boy Wonder's next jab with a horizontally blocking bat.
CLANK!!!
"RRRGHH!!!" Robin growled and attacked ruthlessly.
Metal struck metal as Robin went on the athletic offense and Rancid provided the steady defense. The Boy Wonder pushed him back and back through the length of the junkyard. The nature of the conflict was becoming increasingly obvious. Robin was panting and sweating in his merciless attack. Rancid was unaffected. In fact, he was grinning.
Robin swung one too many times, and Rancid twirled his baseball bat up and clipped Robin's jaw.
The boy grunted and stumbled backwards.
Rancid laughed: "Ha ha ha ha!!! This one's going to left field….in HELL!!"
He swung full force at Robin's skull.
The Boy Wonder winced.
SCREEEECH-CLANK!!!!
I drove the T-Car in the way. The bat struck the paint job.
Rancid's shadowed eyes bulged. "Wha—"
I pressed a button.
The side door flew open.
WHAP!!!!
Rancid was knocked back five feet and his bat went tumbling away.
Robin winced. "Cyborg's not gonna like that."
I sweatdropped, but shrugged with a smile.
"Keep backing me up," the Titan Leader said as he vaulted over the T-Car and rushed the villain.
I closed the door, twirled the wheel, and shifted into gear as I rolled the Car around for another pass.
Meanwhile, Robin charged Rancid with a jab of his staff.
The villain pushed himself up by his bat and looked up—WHAP!!!—into the edge of Robin's rod. He stumbled back with a bleeding nose.
"RAAAUGH!!" Robin shouted and swung downward.
Rancid gritted his teeth and gripped the end of Robin's staff. He jabbed his bat with the other arm and contacted the Boy Wonder's chest.
WHUMP!!
"Ooof!!" Robin let go of his grip on the staff and stumbled back.
"Ha ha ha ha!!" Rancid sneered. He spun the bat in one hand and the staff in the other while getting into a threatening pose. "Don't you stupid wastes of pituitary glands ever learn?!"
Robin practiced his poker face. With two hands concealed behind his belt, he pulled a grappling hook launcher loose in each.
"You gonna teach me a lesson, Rancid?"
"I think I'm gonna teach you a concussion!"
"Sober up, jerk." SWOOOSH!! Robin stretched his arms out, took aim, and criss-crossed to grappling hook launches at opposite limbs of Rancid's. POW!!! POW!!!
Robin's right cord wrapped around Rancid's right wrist. The left cord wrapped around rancid's left. An X in the strings formed between them. Robin grunted and yanked both grappling hook launchers back. "Nnnghh!!"
As a result, the bat and staff in Rancid's grasp both converged as one on his cranium. CRUNCH!!!!!!
"MMPHH!!!" he painfully echoed.
Robin dropped the launchers. He ran. He jumped. He growled in a mid-air, kung fu kick.
WHAM!!!
Rancid cried out as he flew back in the air and--
SCREEECH!!!!
WHUMP!!!
He landed in the rear of the convertible T-Car as I swerved by.
The aching villain gasped. He sat up—unbuckled—and looked at me panickedly.
I looked over my shoulder while driving, smiled, waved, and latched a cord around his upended angle. A cord that—Rancid visually realized—was connected to a compartment in the rear of the T-Car.
He uttered: "Hell, no!!"
A light twinkled reflectively off my shades as I grinned and swerved the car hard to the side and slammed the breaks.
SCREEEECH!!!
He shouted as his body tumbled out of the vehicle, flew out half the length of the cord, and slammed hard into a wall of junk. CLUMP!!! He slumped to the ground, groaning.
I shifted gears. Pressed hard the gas. Spun the tires, and zoomed forward.
VROOOOOOOOOM!!!!!
The cord wrapped around Rancid's ankle lost its slack, yanked, and--
SCRAAAAAAAAAPE!!!!
"AAAAAAAAAAAAUGH!!!!" Rancid's voice vibrated as he was dragged roughly across the length of the junkyard. His butt bounced across the soil, grinding and tossing dust every which way. He struggled with his versatile strength to grab the cord around his ankle but could only shout out in pain and utter frustration: "STUPID KIDDDDDDDDDDDDS!!!!!"
I chuckled breathily and swerved left.
SCREECH!!!
The T-Car slung Rancid's dragged body into a pile of rusted trucks.
WHAM!!
"OW!!!!"
I swerved right.
SCREECH!!!!
He ramped over a stack of shopping carts.
CLUNK!!!
"AUGH!!!"
I held my breath and jerked the wheel hard to the side as the largest mountain of junk loomed ahead of us.
SCREEEEEEEEEEEECH!!!!
"YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!!!!" Rancid screamed like a baby as he was slung like a slingshot one hundred and eighty degrees, up off the ground, and towards where the T-Car was originally aimed at.
I shifted into park. Turned around, and unsheathed Myrkblade…snapping the base of the cord with one swing. SLASH!!! POP!!!!
"!!!!!!!!!!" Rancid's mouth hung open in a silent howl and---
CHUNK!!!!
The entire upper half of his body was embedded into the junkpile. His lower legs kicked and struggled as he let out muffled cries.
SWISH-SWISH-SWISH-SWISH-CLANK!!!!
A perched Robin atop a rusted refrigerator flung an explosive birdarang into the pile right above Rancid's butt.
Beep-Beep-Beep!-BOOM!!!!!!
Junk flew into the air in a fountain…..then adequately sailed back down to bury Rancid's twitching body.
And all was silent.
….
Robin looked over at me from atop the fridge. He gave a thumb's up.
I smiled and returned an 'ok' sign from the T-Car--
CRASH!!!!!
Robin gasped and shielded himself with an arm as junk and debris flew outward. The two of us stared in disbelief as the notorious biker climbed his way out of the crater he had made. Growling, Rancid shouted and tossed more and more junk off of him before stumbling out onto the top of the postindustrial mountain. Bruised…..and pissed off.
"You can't defeat me….." (Pant! Pant!) "I'm bigger than you…" (Pant! Pant!) "I'm stronger than you…" (Pant! Pant!) "I'm older than you!!"
"You're also drunker than us," Robin groaned.
"Robin, I've had enough of you!!" Rancid's muscled heaved. "Like a bird, you squawk too much!! You fly too much!! It's about time you fell down to the earth for good!"
"Uh…yeah…whatever," Robin smirked. He'd found Rancid's achilles' heel. Indifference.
I had to smirk at that.
"Shut up and die!!" Rancid picked up the first thing he could find in the junkpile. An ironing board. He flew it at Robin like a broad javelin.
Robin grunted and dove off the fridge.
CLANK!!! The board bounced off the bridge and flew at me.
My black eyes bulged beneath my shades. I ducked--
SMASH!!!
The windshield shattered and the board clattered in the backseat.
I sweatdropped.
"YAAAUGH!!" Rancid picked up a sewing machine and tossed it.
Robin ran, rolled along the ground, dodged the junk, and caught sight of his rod on the ground. He dashed over and picked it up.
Rancid picked up a huge, metal toaster. He spun it by the cord over his head like a slingshot and tossed it down at Robin.
The Boy Wonder growled and upended his rod to deflect the small appliance. CLANK!!! It ricocheted off and flew at me.
I shifted gears and drove the car away before the paintjob could be ruined anymore.
CLUMP!!!
"Dodge this, pigeon sucker!!" Rancid growled and with monumental strength—and to our dumbfounded shock—hoisted a motherload of a port-a-potty over his head.
Robin sweatdropped from where he stood. "Must be his day job…"
"EAT IT!!!" Rancid chuckled the structure at Robin.
Robin dove out of the way, barely.
SMASH!!!!
He stumbled onto the ground, wincing.
SWOOOOSH!!!
Robin rolled over onto his back and looked upward. His eyemask widened.
"HAAAAA!!!" Rancid had jumped and he was presently flying down at the Boy Wonder, knee first.
Robin frowned and lifted his legs….
THWUMP!!!
"H-Huh?!" Rancid gasped. His descent had been halted by Robin's legs catching his chest. The Boy Wonder's knees bent and Rancid lowered to his chest till he was face to face with the grounded hero.
"You're right, Rancid," Robin grumbled. He whipped out a taser and wrapped it around Rancid's neck with a taut cord. "It's about time I gave up the flying to you." SWOOSH!!!! He grunted and kicked his legs out. Rancid's body was launched up and outward like a catapult.
"WAAAAAAIIEEEEEEE!!!!" he shouted.
In the meantime, I swerved the T-Car to a stop at the end of the biker's flailing trajectory. I glanced up at the falling figure, glanced over at a switch on the dashboard, and hit it.
Click!!
The rear trunk of the T-Car yawned open just in time for--
CLUMP!!!!!
Rancid's body flew in. The T-Car jolted. The door to the hood slammed shut. And deep inside, the taser went off.
ZZZZZZZZZAP!!!!!!
Rancid's voice bellowed from inside as the taser shocked the living heck out of him. Sparks danced out from the cracks of the hood. I winced and shaded my eyes. So did Robin as he stumbled over towards the T-Car, staff in hand. Eventually, the sparking stopped…and Rancid's screaming with it. All that was left was a groaning sound, still muffled. Then silence.
Robin took a breath. He shrugged. He looked at me.
I hesitantly flipped the switch again.
The door to the trunk yawned open.
I hopped out of the T-Car and stood next to Robin. Glancing in.
"Nnnnnghhh….," Rancid groaned, smoking all over. He twitched. "I-I'll have another one—HIC—on the house….bleahh…."
He was out cold.
"Well…," Robin scratched his dark hair and looked at me, hands on his hips. "Guess that rules out the electric chair." He smirked.
I wanted to laugh. As did Robin. He had the voice to.
-T-T-T-T-T-T-
An hour later, a ring of squad cars converged on the junkyard and armed guards were leading a hobbling Johnny Rancid into the back of a prison truck. His precious bike was being impounded.
An officer stood beside Robin and I next to the T-Car.
"I've got to hand it to you Titans…," he scratched his head. "You certainly came quickly enough. This City would have been in blood and rubble by the time we got here without your help."
"We've dealt with the creep before," Robin smirked with arms folded. "It was the least we can do. Especially after we were the ones who turned him in last time."
"All I can say is," the officer pointed. "You boys did a great job taking the action here and not duking it out in Barrymore's Main Street. Ya know…where there were innocent people around and stuff."
"We sorta—" Robin shrugged "—took it where it naturally fought out."
"Well, good initiative, is all I'm saying," the officer walked off. "We won't be needing you two anymore. You've done your part. Have a good day."
We were alone.
Robin sighed a relatively happy sigh. And all the angst and all the frustration that I had seen inside of him faded almost instantly. He looked pleasantly at me. "That's what all of this is worth, ya know. Satisfaction like that."
I smirked back.
"Wanna drive us home?"
I shrugged.
"You handle the T-Car pretty well, ya know that?"
I glanced at the paintjob and smashed windshield. I sweatdropped.
"I-I'll take responsibility for that…trust me," Robin simpered.
He got into the driver's seat and brought the ceiling down.
Robin got into the front passenger's seat and kicked back. "Sorry you didn't get to use your sword much."
I chuckled breathily at that and drove us out of the scene.
-T-T-T-T-T-T-
We were reaching City limits. The sun was setting. The air was calm and inviting as two relaxed heroes welcomed the ride home with the windows down and the wind beating its way in.
I didn't like driving as much as I liked walking, but today it felt…strangely tranquil. Perhaps I simply enjoyed listening to Robin and his nonchalant ramblings on the long way back.
He certainly did seem relaxed….
"…and so Batgirl and Nightwing dove in at the last second, knocking Killer Croc out and giving Batman and I a chance to jump off the speedboat before it could explode! Killer Croc turned out to have survived about a month later, but it was still a case closed—and a close shave on account of B&N. Naturally, I thanked them for diving in and saving our asses. But Batman kept insisting that he could have gotten us both off the boat and safely into Gotham Harbor before they arrived. For such a good mentor, he certainly is full of himself. But not like me. You agree, right?"
I absolutely nodded my head with a helpless smile.
"Anyway. Nightwing got all pissy and swore never to come back to Gotham City again. Ya know. Keep his beat to Bloodhaven and stuff. But that didn't stop Batman from going to Bloodhaven and saving Nightwing's neck when Ra's Al Ghul was in the area trying to chop off Nightwing's head and give it to his daughter Talia or something. I dunno. That Ghul guy always struck me as wyrd."
I made a face at that and nodded off….deciding not to say anything. We turned off onto the land ridge leading to the Tower. The waters of the Bay glistened on either side of us as we bore down on our familiar home.
"I bet Raven and the others will be mad at me when we get back," Robin said. "But don't you worry. You were merely following orders when I had you come along with me."
I shrugged. My black eyes squinted through my shades as I thought I saw flashing lights ahead of us.
"Heh! Raven was wrong! I could handle Rancid!! And you saw me handle him! I handled him up to a couple hundred volts and a concussion!! Heh heh heh. He's gonna think twice about breaking out of jail and running that loud mouth of his!"
Red strobes illuminated the inside of the T-Car.
"What the—" Robin sat up straight.
There was a road block. A line of police squad cars. Their lights were flashing on top. Police officers frantically waved their arms at us. But it was too late.
SWOOOOOOSH!!!!
We drove past them at the last second and continued down the land ridge.
Robin looked back through the rear of the T-Car. "What on earth are they doing there?!?!"
I gasped.
Robin looked ahead. His eyemask widened.
The two of us watched as huge panels in the side of the Tower opened and the gun turrets of the Titans' base's defense system let loose volleys of laser blasts at us.
FLASH!!! FLASH!!! FLASH!!!
I slammed on the breaks.
SCREEEECH!!!!
Craters formed in the earth where our vehicle would have been. The land ridge exploded ahead of us by a few mere feet.
BLAM!!!! POW!!!! BOOOM!!!!
"Back!! Back!!" Robin shook my shoulder and scrunched in his seat. "BackBackBackBackBack!!!"
I shifted gears into reverse. I pressed the gas hard.
SCREEEEECH!!!
The car burned rubber in reverse.
The lasers zoomed down on us, barely missing us by a few inches off the hood.
FLASH!!! FLASH!!!
I gritted my teeth and yanked hard on the wheel.
SWOOOOSH!!
The T-Car spun around.
The lasers came down on us.
I shifted into drive and rocketed us back towards the roadblock. Out of range.
FLASH!!! FLASH!!!!
Craters formed behind us as we floored it out of the reach of the laser fire. Once safely away, we met a single police officer on a motorcycle coming toward us. The two of us stopped side by side on the land ridge. Robin rolled his window down, panting, and uttered: "What the Hell is going on?!?!"
"We were hoping you'd know, sir!" the police officer uttered. "Didn't you see us?! We were trying to keep you safely outside the defense perimeter!!"
"Defense perimeter?!?!"
"We've been trying to contact you, sir!!" the officer gulped. He seemed weathered. Nervous. Shaken from events untold…. "Ever since the Tower's defenses turned hostile to random traffic and the hostages were snapped away to its foundation, the law enforcement has been scurrying to establish a base of operations and—"
"Wait wait wait!!" Robin chanted. "What hostage situation?!" He gripped the police officer's shoulders and nearly snarled. "What's going on with the Tower?!?!"
"Sheesh, you really are in the dark, aren't you?! The other Titans, they---"
I glanced at the rear view mirror. A panel opened on the rooftop of the Tower in the distant reflection. A missile appeared on a launcher, aimed at us, and fired.
PHOOOOOOM!!!!
I gasped. I yanked at Robin's cape.
He glanced at the rear view mirror. Without so much as a waisted breath, he yanked the cop off of his bike—"WHOAH!"—and clumsily halfway into the passenger's side.
"PUNCH IT!!!"
I slammed my foot onto the gas.
The T-Car's wheels squealed and we rocketed ahead.
SHOOOOOOOM!!!!
The missile sailed in after us.
"AAAAAAAAH!!!!" the cop shouted, his legs flailing outside the T-Car.
The missile slammed into the ground where the motorcycle was.
BOOOOOOM!!!!!!
I yanked at the wheel—teeth gritting—and stopped us roughly in the middle of the road block. Safely out of range. The three of us panted. Sweating. Confused. Horrified. I poked my head out of my window and looked up. I first became aware of police and news helicopters zooming overhead. Searchlights from the edges of the City's bayside scouring the ever-darkening air of the early evening.
"Oh jeesh…oh jeesh…," the trembling cop whimpered. "Oh jeesh oh jeesh oh jeesh—"
"Shhh!!" Robin hissed. He literally climbed over the cop to squeeze himself out of the T-Car and approached the other officers in the area. "How long ago did this all start??"
"At least ten hours ago, sir."
Robin sweatdropped. "Right after Noir and I left…"
I got out of my side and looked at Robin worriedly, then at the distant Tower. A forbidden, threatening object now.
Robin palmed his fist. "Damn it…what's going on?!"
"We're just about as confused as you are, sir."
Robin glared at them. He uttered: "I want to see Decker! I want answers!"
They shifted in their stance.
One stepped forward and said: "Decker was one of them."
"One of who?"
"The ones taken by the Titans."
Robin did a double-take. "The Titans?!?! You mean…th-they've been taking hostages?! That's impossible!!"
The one officer looked to the side. Everyone seemed perplexed…uncomfortable.
Robin spun around and looked at me.
I shrugged.
A beat.
"Then who exactly is in charge?!?!"
-T-T-T-T-T-T-
"The Commissioner was taken away by a violent raid on the police department eight and a half hours ago," Decker's trusty lieutenant said.
We stood with him under a tent assembled on the Bayside across the waters where helicopters and searchlights converged on the Tower in the middle of the night's falling darkness. All around us, SWAT teams assembled and city workers were quickly setting up computer equipment and all the makings of a mobile base of operations. Even members of the Army were arriving from the Suspension Bridge into the City.
The Lieutenant directed us to a miniature television atop a standup table. "Beast Boy arrived in the form of some huge, winged beast and snatched him away before we could do anything about it. If you doubt my words, you can see for yourself."
Robin and I watched in shock as camera footage from a pedestrian on the street caught a green pterodactyl carrying a thrashing, struggling Decker away in its clawed grasp and heading southward towards the City on a current of air.
"Almost immediately after he was snatched away…," the Lieutenant spoke, "…many of the City's famous citizens were snatched away by the Titans. Veronica Vreeland. Blake Glover. Benjamin Powers. Phil Garrison. And along with them were a handful of City Officials. Allen Bringham. Frederick Smith. Warden Kerry. Not to mention well over three dozen police officers, prison guards, and office workers from the City Hall!!"
As if to confirm his words, amateur footage splashed across the t.v. from the News. Quite clearly we saw Cyborg bursting through a wall with citizens over his shoulder….Raven levitating across the waters with struggling city officials in floating, black nets. Starfire hoisting the city secretary in her grasp and soaring towards the Tower along with all the others.
Robin narrowed his eyemasks. "Wait a second…"
"You notice it too?" the Lieutenant remarked.
"Their eyes…they're all—"
"Glowing," the man nodded. "That's not normal, is it?"
Indeed, even I saw it. The eyes of the Titans—Cyborg, Raven, Starfire, and Beast Boy—they were all glowing a pale blue. Unearthly. And as if that wasn't enough, their expressions and body tones were lifeless and limp. Like zombies. Golems.
"They….they look like they're…..," Robin's eyemask bulged. "No way…."
I glanced at him wyrd.
"What is it?" the Lieutenant asked.
"It's impossible!" the Boy Wonder rambled to himself, his head shaking. "He's soulless!! He doesn't have a breath of life in him!!"
I scratched my head.
Suddenly, the image on the television flickered. People around them gasped as computer monitors and other output devices were taken over by the sole footage of a googly-eyed creature with a polished wooden face and a small crown of gold. Something akin to a puppet….
My eyebrows rose.
"Quick!" Robin pointed. "Turn it up!! Put it on all the speakers!!"
The Lieutenant nodded over towards a technician.
He and an assistant went hard at work. Soon the voice of a villainous Lilliputian echoed throughout the surroundings—as it similarly filled the homes of t.v. viewers all throughout the City as a result of the Tower's overpowering signals.
"Citizens of this ignorant City. Behold. Your King…the Puppet King speaks to you now."
Everyone paused in their flurry around us and stood—watching and listening—mesmerized.
Robin and I were similarly glued to the screen.
"You may notice that the most esteemed of your society are now missing. Do not despair. They are merely guests to the greatest event to grace this pathetic land of meat and arrogance! A revolution of sacredness! For I, the Puppet King, am to be wed! And the lucky hand for which I shall forever be bonded to belongs to that of the fairest maiden ever to grace this destitute world. The lovely and innocent Queen of Strings! Together we shall branch forth and start a new kingdom! Where magic and flesh converge as one! The ultimate stage in the sky! And if need be, I shall burn this City to squalor in the wake of our honeymoon! I could explain myself more, but frankly you citizens do not deserve it! And I am not about to deign and ruin my festive mood of love and swooning for my new beloved! So farewell, City of infidelity! My destiny lies in the stars."
Snkkkkkkttt!!!
The t.v. signal turned to snow.
Voices muttered and gasped all around us.
"The Puppet King is back…," Robin grumbled. "And somehow he has taken the Titans under his control right from underneath them!"
"And not only that, he's got a bunch of hostages in there that we need to get out!" the Lieutenant said. "But we can't get close enough to send a team in! He's got his finger on the defense systems of that Tower of yours!"
I blushed and scratched the back of my neck. We'd noticed that….
"Sir!" a technician rushed up and handed the Lieutenant a printout. "Here's the latest sensor reading on the Tower. It doesn't look good, sir."
"What is it?"
"Fusion emissions are increasing from the center of the Titans' Tower at an astonishing rate! We've never had this kind of reading from that building before!"
Robin bit his lip.
"What???" the Lieutenant looked at him wyrd.
"The Tower runs on a fusion reactor," Robin said. He took a breath. "A sudden increase in the power generation means one thing."
"It's going to blow, isn't it?" the technician murmured.
I gulped.
"It's merely being set to blow," Robin clenched his gloved fists and looked at the searchlit Tower. "Whatever the Puppet King has planned, he's most likely planning to self-destruct the Tower and take away this City with it."
"How long would it take for the Fusion Reactor to overload?"
"Approximately twelve hours."
"Good Lord."
"Don't despair just yet," Robin said. "Noir and I are here. Not all the Titans are gone."
"Yeah…at least their leader's still sane."
Robin looked at me. "It's crazy. The Puppet King shouldn't be alive! His spirit left him and he became a normal puppet when his control fell into the cauldron over a year ago!"
I shrugged helplessly and stared at him.
A beat.
The Robin took a deep breath. "If all else fails…a raid on the Tower is what you and your men will have to do," he said as he faced the Lieutenant. "But that could cause many casualties and set off the fusion reactor prematurely."
"Got any alternatives?"
"I do," the Boy Wonder nodded. "There's a secret entrance into the Tower. A backdoor, if you will. Noir and I can enter in, provided we're given the right equipment."
"Write it up and we'll have it for you two ASAP."
"In the meantime…," Robin paced out from under the tent and motioned for me to follow. I did. "Since we can't tap into the Tower's Computer archives from here, we're gonna have to use some other means of acquiring information…"
I gave him a wyrd look.
He glanced at me through the edge of his eyemask. "Why, to find out what the Hell is making the Puppet King sentient again, of course!"
-T-T-T-T-T-T-
"The P-P-Puppet King?!" the nightshift worker gulped.
Robin and I stood in the center of the huge, dimly lit City Library. It was a humongous, six-story facility with banks of information rivaling many of the largest universities in the North East. We were lucky Titans indeed.
"Come on! You're a full-time worker here!" Robin exclaimed. "Nothing comes up in your head that could be in the computer or the written archives in regards to the Puppet King?!"
"I-I'm not an expert on the rogues gallery!" the man stuttered. "I-I know we have one…b-but I'm new here! It'd take days to bring up stuff on the Puppet King!"
Robin and I exchanged glances.
The Boy Wonder frowned. "We have twelve hours!!"
I hand-signed: 'Less than'.
"Hold it….just a second," the jittery worker held his hands up. "A lot of changes have been going on in the library. Many of the old employees were….w-well…j-just that. Old! They've either retired to out of town or passed away!"
"Well, is there anyone who could help us?!"
The librarian bit his lip. His eyes trailed the ceiling as he thought aloud. He indeed was an intelligent person, and a silent 'ding!' of a cash register sounded off in our collectives minds as he brightened and exclaimed: "Th-There is one person who can help."
"Who?"
"A volunteer. A young lady from Westhaven. She's been working on and off at this library over the past five years. Dedicated little soul, she is!"
Robin did a double-take.
He glanced at me.
I slowly grinned.
-T-T-T-T-T-T-
The roar of rotary blades filled the air as the helicopter touched down onto the landing pad atop the City Police Department. An officer or two with plastic ear muffs rushed over and opened the door.
Clumsily, Sandy bounded down to her feet and steadied herself by gripping one of the officers' hands.
"Well…that's certainly the quickest I've ever been waken out of bed and flown to a nearby town!!!! Heh!!!" she blushed, and looked at the officer. "Aren't I supposed to go somewhere?!?!?"
"Follow me, ma'am!! The Titans need you at the library!"
"Oh, that place!! Haven't I done my community service by now?!?!"
She rushed off with them to the stairwell that would take them down into the street and into a police caravan waiting below.
-T-T-T-T-T-T-
The formalities of greeting were skipped, and a mere thirty minutes later the three of us—Robin, Sandy, and myself—were huddled besides a dimly lit desk in the fourth floor of the library. We crowded around an old, dusty book which Sandy had effortlessly located with her photographic memory of having worked at the place. She sat on a stool with her hands spread across the giant, yellowing leaves of the manuscript. It had to have been eight years old at least…
"'The Curse of the Puppet King', it says here…," Sandy read, "'Is an Italian American story about a boy who was so disobedient that his stern grandfather hired a dying gypsy on Ellis Island to plant innumerable curses on him. The first curse was that the boy would turn into a wooden puppet the soonest he forgot about his native hometown. The second curse was that he would be destined to humiliation in front of the masses for his ill-fated ways'…."
"What does that mean??" Robin asked. His voice loudly echoed above hers throughout the library.
"Shhh!" the spectacled volunteer hissed.
"Er…sorry," Robin blushed.
I raised an eyebrow and glanced around the lengths of the dark library. We three were alone….
"It means…," Sandy explained, "…if this book is right…that the Puppet King would be seen on stage. Used as a real puppet. As long as a bunch of people got to see him."
"Must have been a really wicked boy indeed."
"There's more to the curse."
"Go on."
Sandy read: "'The third fate of the Puppet King is that—in spite all of his evil—the one thing that could ultimately control him was perfect, unblemished love'."
Robin made a face. "Love?"
"'If the Puppet King was to meet a lady of his dreams, that lady would become in his eyes the 'Queen of Strings'. No power could stop the Puppet King from rising to the occasion of wedding her. Even if the source of his curse was to be cut off from the beginning'."
"Which explains why he's up to no good right now in spite of how his control was destroyed," Robin sweatdropped.
"Er….I-I guess."
"Who would this 'Queen of Strings' be??"
Sandy shrugged. "I dunno." She adjusted her glasses and scanned the pages. "Perhaps a girl from his past. An old crush. Someone he sees regularly now as well. Whoever it is, he's obsessed about her. And now he's determined to turn her into his bride to be or something."
"He sure is acting wyrd," Robin scratched his head. "Last time he took over most of the Titans' souls with his curse, he was trying to take over the City. Not blow it up with a fusion reactor."
"Perhaps the curse is taking over his consciousness. The Titan teammates of yours aren't the only ones being controlled by some unknown force."
"Then we have more at hand here than just the Puppet King and his villainous ways…," Robin thought aloud.
Silence.
I bit my lip and shivered. The library was cold and ominous. So was this topic.
"How old is this Puppet King legend?"
"How old is the Puppet King, you mean?" Sandy smirked.
"That too."
"Again…eighty or so years. From the early twentieth century."
Robin scratched his chin with a gloved hand and stared at the dimly lit pages. "Then….perhaps….the second part his curse….ya know, the one about the humiliation?"
"Yeah??"
"Could it have been done on something besides the stage?"
I beamed and hand-signed a 'motion picture camera'.
Sandy blinked. She gasped and snapped a finger. "Of course! Now I remember!"
"Remember what?"
-T-T-T-T-T-T-
Sandy stuck the old, bulky VHS tape into the VCR.
The three of us sat—huddled—in the dark corner of the huge library's audio-video section in the basement floor. Our bodies glowed with static until a very old and staticky image of an even older and nastier silent picture displayed on the small t.v. It was a black and white, half-eaten film copy of a two-reeler called 'The Puppet King Goes to Town'. There, before our eyes, the undeniable image of the Puppet King on strings was seen dangling against an incredibly fake backdrop representing a Jazz-Era, Victorian-perfect neighborhood. Complete with an illustrated picket fence and house. The Puppet King 'frolicked' along in a goofy fashion by strings until it met a pretty-damsel-puppet on the other side of the tiny set piece. The Puppet King's wooden mouth moved and then a black slide with white, goofy font displayed: "Oh my! It's Mary Lou! My heart flutters at the sight of her!" The image reappeared of the he and she puppets and the girl puppet's mouth moved while its wooden legs dangled a basket of flowers in her dainty grasp. Then a slide: "Hello there, Puppet King! You're looking handsome today! Tee hee!" Another image of the Puppet King facing the camera and talking with a hand dangling by its fake mouth. Then a slide with font indicating that the Puppet King was 'whispering': "If only I could make her the Queen of Strings! Oh what a wonderful life with Mary Lou I could have!"
"Okaaaaaay," Robin uttered. A beat. He blinked under his eyemask and looked at Sandy. "And this his helping…..how?"
"Don't you see??" the brown-haired girl pointed and ecstatically uttered. "This could be the answer!! The silent pictures of the Puppet King!! It was the enactment of the second phase of his curse! This is playing out exactly what the situation is at the Tower!"
I made a face and mouthed: 'Exactly'????
"Well…figuratively."
"So you're saying…," Robin began, "…that if we watch this silent picture….we can figure out what's making the Puppet King tick??"
"And what exactly it is that he plans!! Isn't it wonderful?!"
As if on cue…the VCR started smoking.
"Ackies!!"
"Oh crap!!"
Robin dove for the tape. But it was too late. The device melted the contents inside and the wall panel sparked. The t.v. died out and a nasty smell entered our noses as the library went dark all around us. I could finally see with comfort…that is…until Robin whipped out a flashlight and annoyingly blinded me in attempting to find Sandy's face.
"That's not good, is it?"
Sandy groaned. "That was the only copy! The ONLY copy in the whole stinkin' library of his silent pictures!"
"You're sure of it?"
"Positive!! And good luck finding any copies elsewhere! That stuff is as rare as Antarctic gold!"
"Well…..y-you've watch them, haven't you?" Robin remarked. "You seemed to know a lot about it—"
"Only from what I've read with you just tonight!" Sandy exclaimed. She gripped her head and sighed exasperatingly. "I-I'm a good researcher as much as I'm a librarian! I know where to find things! I just don't hunt them all down and read them! No, I haven't seen his silent picture, nor have I seen all twenty of the Puppet King's other two-reelers!"
Robin's eyemask bulged. "T-Twenty?!"
"Even if we had them to watch…it'd take way too much time to view them all to get an idea of what's going on in that wooden, pint-sized golem running the show up in your Tower!"
"Precious time that should be spent infiltrating the place and saving hostages," Robin nodded.
"There's gotta be someone on this god-forsaken continent familiar with the silent pictures of the Puppet King!"
"H-How hard can that be to find?" Robin simpered with a shrug.
"Are you kidding?! That stuff is ultra, mega, super rare!!" Sandy cackled.
"Shhhh!" I hissed and motioned around at the library.
"I'm serious here!" she pouted. "The only person capable of knowing those silent pictures has got to be someone with absolutely NO life!! Someone pathetically obsessed with the Mundane and Ludicrous!! Someone with enough time on his hands to waste on endless, unabashed, T.V. viewage!"
Silence.
Suddenly, I was wincing. I gulped. I looked over at Robin and gestured.
"What??" the Boy Wonder looked at me wyrd.
I smiled nervously and pretended to be 'clicking a button' repeatedly with my finger.
Robin stared at me.
A beat.
His lips parted.
He shook his head.
"No…."
He waved his gloved hands.
"Ohhhhh no no no no no no no…."
He cringed. "No way!! No way on earth!!"
I bit my lip.
-T-T-T-T-T-T-
In a lonely cell of the City Prison, an obese, hairy organism in red was slouched on his cot beside a pile of sanctioned comic books.
"Hah hah hah hah!!!" the tubby villain warbled as he thumbed through the pages. "I swear to God!! Whoever draws this crap must be an idiot-savante!! This stuff looks like crap compared to the awesome glory that is Bruce Timm's artwork!! Just to think that these morons believe that the canon cartoon show's title is enough to carry on the greatness of the saga onto paper—"
CLUNK!!!
The sound of a key turning in the cell door's lock echoed in the tiny room.
"What in name of Bespin?!" Control Freak looked upside down. He sat up on the side of his cot and scratched his butt curiously, placing the comic down. His cruddy eyes thinned and his dual chins flapped as he gasped. "What's this?!?! Do I finally get my own convention???"
Sandy and I shifted nervously where we stood.
A royally frowning and very disgusted Robin stepped past the protective line of jail guards and stood before fat, nerdy villain. He sneered through clenched teeth the words he did not want to utter: "Get up off your rear, Control Freak."
"What for?"
"We….we…..n-n-need your help."
Silence.
Slowly, the fat fanboy grinned. "Ohhhhh ho ho ho ho!!! This is gonna be rich!"