I was happy to have escaped the Joker's grasp. My heart soared with the air rushing in my face as I ran. I felt so excited, so energized that I didn't dare stop running, wanting distance better me and my imprisonment. Finally, I forced myself to stop down to a walk, panting heavily as I realized what the time was.

Five thirty. People would be going home from work, and seeing a woman in a jacket running as if she were running for her life in the summer would make them suspicious. I started to pull off my jacket when I realized that it would be better if I continued to wear it, despite the heat that my body had created with the furious running.

As I was standing at a red light to cross the street, I heard someone gasp by my side. I looked to see an old woman staring intensely at my hand.

"Darling, your hand!" she exclaimed.

I glanced at my hand, realizing that it had dried blood on it. "Oh, that," I said, trying to pretend confusion and shock. "How did that happen?"

"I don't know, but you should have it looked at."

"That I should," I said. Smiling nicely, I explained, "I'm new in this city. Could you tell me how to get to the nearest hospital?"

She nodded and gave me a set of directions that I only remembered a few parts. I thanked her and headed off, storing my hands in my pockets as I walked away.

I didn't head toward the hospital; I just needed some water to clean my hand, and maybe something to wrap it. I wandered, not really paying any attention to my surroundings or where I was going.

When I looked up, my eyes went right over a particular building, and I ended up doing a double-take, blinking harshly against the setting sunlight. Having just about spent my adrenaline rush, I was beginning to feel weary again, and it took my tired mind a few moments to recognized The Stacked Deck. I was on the exact street that I had first crossed paths with the Joker.

I shuddered at the memory and kept walking, hurrying away from the spot.

It wasn't like I was revolted by the memory; I just didn't want to confront it, I didn't want to admit to myself that I had been so easy for the Joker to catch me. I had prided myself for years for my ability to easily avoid capture by the police or other Mob assassins. The Joker's callous ease at kidnapping me painfully humbled me.

I walked for what seemed like hours before I sighted a familiar sight. The sign for Hyde Park, the same park I had ran to the night before.

I almost turned and walked away from it because of the memory it brought. It was an hour or two after I had reached here that I had been captured by the Joker last night. I scanned the grounds, seeing children playing on the swings with their parents talking to friends, keeping an eye on their kids. A stand selling hot dogs was close by, a few parents buying their kids a small dinner.

I crouched on the sidewalk, pretending to tie my shoe as I reached into my Skecher. I've learned over the years that it's best to have some money on your person at all times, but it shouldn't be placed in a wallet because anyone would steal it from you. I usually tried to keep a twenty in my shoe, but since I knew I was headed for a dangerous city like Gotham, I had stored away three twenties.

I bought two hot dogs for my first meal in twenty-four hours, being careful to hide the dried blood on my throbbing hand to avoid unnecessary attention. With my food, I found a bench under a hulking tree that blocked out the sun entirely around the area. I savored the taste of hot dog and ketchup while I watched the kids playing, listening to the birds that chirped lazily in the summer air. My stomach growled as I wiped my hands on my jeans, but I wasn't going to buy more hot dogs; I'd look like a starving pig.

I lifted my feet onto the bench, stretching out and using my arm curled behind my head as a pillow. With all the people around, I doubted that if the Joker was out searching for me, he'd approach me in a populated area- or at least I hoped. It didn't matter much to me as I felt exhaustion creep up on me again. I've had too much excitement with very little sleep; since The Stacked Deck wouldn't be open for another two hours or so, a little shut-eye could be in order.

I awoke with difficulty, wanting to sleep more, but the sense of being watched alerted me. I forced myself to sit up casually, raising my arms over my head in a stretch. My eyes scanned the surrounding area, searching for any sign of people. The parents had taken their kids home for dinnertime, leaving the park deserted, besides me.

I glanced at my wristwatch, seeing that it was 7:37 PM. The Stacked Deck would be open with a good amount of customers, if not full yet. I checked to make sure that some naughty kid hadn't stolen my extra change from the twenty I had used to buy my meager meal before pushing myself off the bench, bending my back to crack it.

"Congratulations on the escape." The chilling voice from behind made me jump, spinning sharply. A man dressed in black clothing stood mere feet away from me, behind the bench. He wore a ski mask over his head so I couldn't see his features, and if that wasn't enough to put me on alert, the threatening tone certainly did. "The escape through the window was your only way out, but it was exciting to find out you had outrun the twin brothers."

"Who are you?" I demanded, my tone hard, "And how long have you been standing there?"

"I just arrived," he answered, "And they call me Hunter."

"I can't say I've heard of you." I tried to sound like I was insulting him, but he only shrugged impassively.

"Very few have. I don't show my face often."

"Doesn't seem like you show your face at all," I stated, gesturing toward his ski mask.

"Pardon me, I meant to say that I don't show myself often." I raised an eyebrow, surprised. The mystery guy had manners, despite his lack of emotion when he spoke in his chilling voice. "I see you've gotten hurt when escaping," Hunter said, pointing at my hand.

"I'm fine," I said, shoving my hands into my pockets. "State your business, Hunter. Why are you here?"

"I came to warn you. The Boss is looking for you, and he'll go all out to retrieve you."

"The boss?" I questioned. "Is he some Mob leader, or your boss?"

"No, he's not my boss; he's the Boss."

"You know about my escape. You must be one of the Joker's minions. You must be refer-."

"No," Hunter interrupted me, his tone revealing quick anger. "I'm not his minion."

"You don't work for the Joker?"

"No, I work for the Boss."

I narrowed my eyes, suspiciously. "Who is this boss?"

"You've met him."

"The Joker?"

"NO!" Hunter yelled, angrily. Violently, he launched himself over my bench, his hands outstretched to grab me. I ducked out of the way, bringing up my arm as Hunter threw a clenched fist toward my face. Blocking it, I stomped on his foot with my heel to give me time to move away.

"Look, I meant no offense-," I began, but Hunter recovered and came at me, howling angrily as he threw blows at me. My trained reflexes kicked in, and I deflected each of Hunter's hits, letting him tire himself out.

Gradually, Hunter began to tire, and I felt my temper stir. I decided to end it before he completely tired himself out. As he threw a pathetic punch, I grabbed his wrist, ducking under his arm and slapping his other hand away from me. I tucked myself against his chest and with a heave, I threw him over my shoulder by his arm, slamming him down against the cement walkway.

Hunter gasped in pain as he hit the ground. I dropped his arm and took several steps away, my brow frowned with the beginnings of a headache.

"Look, you don't attack people for no reason!" I snarled, angrily.

"Your interference…makes me angry," Hunter growled as he slowly rolled over.

"Sorry to have gotten on your nerves."

"I want you…to leave Gotham," he continued, getting to his hands and knees.

"Real-ly?" I asked, putting a hand on my hip. "Who said you were in charge of Gotham's underbelly?"

"It's the Boss who's in charge."

"Heck with your 'Boss'."

He jerked his head up and glared at me, his eyes full of hatred. "I'll hunt you down for insulting the Boss."

"Is that what gave you your name?" I demanded. "You hunt random people down?"

"You were hardly random, woman."

My eyes narrowed dangerously, and I felt my blood boil with irritation. "Don't come near me again or I swear, I'll kill you," I spat. I didn't give him time to retort; instead I just turned on my heel and walked away from him, my steps proud and confident. Usually, I would never turn my back on an enemy – or just any stranger – but the guy was down and wouldn't come after me if he knew what was good for him.

However, before I left Hyde Park's premises, I glanced over my shoulder. The mysterious Hunter was gone. I shivered involuntarily as I checked my money again before continuing on my way.

The Stacked Deck was crowded with people drinking and playing games when I arrived. Luckily for me, it wasn't the same bartender as last night, but that didn't do much to ease my worry of being recognized. I remained near the entrance for a few moments, trying to think of what to do. I wasn't going to drink since I was technically on the run, avoiding capture.

I needed a getaway car. Since the Joker had blown my motel room – and my belongings – skyward, I had nothing left. I checked my pockets for my wallet and found that that too was gone. Well, let the Joker have my money and my alias IDs; there was nothing in my wallet that I would regret losing.

Looking around at the ruddy crowd, I felt the urge to run and hide. In large crowds, I felt uncomfortable and nervous, but I forced myself to take a deep breath – where I inhaled smoke and a tint of alcohol – to calm my nerves. I just wished it was cooler in here since with so many people moving and talking, they created too much heat.

I caught sight of a table where four men were drinking and playing Poker near the backroom. The backroom would lead to an exit door, which would supply an emergency exit should things get ugly. Moving slowly toward the small group, I studied them from afar, checking for weapons or any danger.

As I approached, the men suddenly reacted, one throwing his cards down with a gleeful shout, another throwing his hands up, aggravated. The third took a long swig from his beer bottle, draining it, while the fourth guy slowly closed his fan of cards.

"You always win, Shaun!" the irritated guy complained, loudly.

"Thought me almost had it," the drinking man whined.

"You guys are such losers," the gleeful one, Shaun laughed as he slid all the money from the center toward him.

"I'm pretty sure you cheat," the last man said, calmly gathering all the cards into one pack.

"You're too calm for this type of game, Ron," Shaun snickered.

"Calmness forms a perfect poker face," Ron replied, shuffling the deck. "Go play somewhere else. You've taken all our money; we're broke."

"That I will," Shaun said, happily pushing the money into a bag. He tied it off and stood. "Goodnight, gentlemen. Try to entertain yourself while the night's still young." He slapped a ten on the table. "Here, get yourselves some drink or pay for a bed companion. It's on me." He winked and then moved away, nearly bumping into me on his way out. "Sorry, miss," he said, and then he did a double-take. "Well, are you a cop or something?" he asked.

"No," I said, smiling sweetly. "Do I look like one?"

"You look like you're in pretty bad shape with that hand." He pointed. "Need a lift somewhere?"

"Thanks for the offer, but I'm set."

Shaun nodded, grinned, and then continued on his way.

I approached the table with the three remaining guys, and Ron and the irritated one watched me intently. The third guy grabbed the ten and waved it in the air, oblivious to the fact that I was standing nearby.

"I'm gonna have another. What 'bout you guys?" he asked.

"You've had enough for one night, Bill," Ron told him, eying me. "Besides, we've got a visitor."

"Wha'?" Bill turned in his seat and squinted at me, frowning. Then, he grinned sheepishly. "Well, well, someone wants some company?"

I couldn't help but laugh. "No," I said, taking Shaun's vacated chair and turning it, propping the back against the edge of the table. I sat down with my legs spread out, and I folded my arms on the back of the chair. "Mind if I watch you play?"

The irritated one answered. "Do whatever you want."

"Kevin, that's not the way you talk to a woman," Ron scolded, riffling the deck of cards.

"It doesn't matter. I don't have any money left."

"If you would stop being so aggressive and throwing all your money on the table in one-."

Kevin slapped his hand on the table angrily. "Don't go criticizing me, Ron, when you do it yourself."

"Wrong, I spread it out a lot more." Kevin growled, and Ron smirked, turning his attention to me. "Do you know how to play?" he asked.

"If none of you mind," I said with a careless shrug.

"How much money you got?" Kevin demanded. Ron threw a glare at him, but Kevin's attention was on me.

"How much do you have?" I asked in return, pulling out my last two twenties. I didn't bother with my change from my third one; I'd use that later if I had to.

Kevin eyed the money hungrily and nodded.

I glanced at Bill but found that he had his head on his arms, oblivious to the world around him. I grinned and took the ten from Bill's hand, placing it in the center of the table. "All right," I said, "Deal out the cards."

Ron nodded and started flicking them out rapidly. "What's your name?" he asked, curiously.

"Janet," I said, saying the first name that popped into my head.

"I'm Ron, and this is Kevin." Ron had finished dealing out the cards. "All right, ladies first."

As the game started, I realized that this wasn't a very talkative group. Besides the calls of poker, Kevin, Ron, and I hardly said anything. From the expressions that raced across Kevin's face, I could tell that he wasn't a very good poker player, merely because you could easily read his cards on his face. By his movements and impatience, it was easy to tell that he was a greedy aggressive player who couldn't keep a straight face.

The one I found interesting was Ron. No matter how hard I studied his expression, I couldn't read it. I finally surrendered and tried to focus on what I had in my hand, but I kept looking at Ron. I couldn't help checking him out.

He was handsome, youthful, probably close to my age with short black hair and bangs that occasionally fell over his deep brown eyes. I couldn't help but notice that his nose was slightly out of alignment, like someone had broken his nose when he was younger and it hadn't healed in the correct position. It was well hidden though; anyone who just glanced at him would not have noticed his nose. I thought it gave him character.

I played a few games with Kevin and Ron, ending each game with the urge to continue. That was always my problem with gambling; I'd get caught up in it so easily. There was that, and I had a cute guy to look at. Despite that all, I did feel the need to leave. The longer I remained, the more of a chance the Joker would find me and take me back.

"All right, last one for me," Ron said as he dealt the cards out. "Let's make it quick. I'd like to get enough sleep for once."

I looked at him, curiously. As he made his call, I did notice some dark circles under his eyes.

"Okay, ready to show your cards?" I asked, my voice sounding depressed.

"You should have Folded earlier if you didn't have any good cards," Kevin said, smacking down his cards. He had a Four-of-a-Kind for the four Aces.

"Darn, I was close," Ron said, defeated. He revealed his four Jacks, and then looked up at me. "What did you have?"

"Four Queens," I said, wearily. "Kevin wins."

Kevin yelped with joy as he dived for the money pile, but Ron stopped him with an arm.

"Hold on, let me see your cards," Ron ordered.

"I told you I got four Queens. Kevin's Kings beat my Queens." I stood up, slipping my only non-Queen card away from the others.

"I don't think you're telling the truth," Ron said, still watching me closely.

Kevin growled, standing up violently. "Just show him what the card is!" He grabbed me wrist and snatched my card out of my hand, glancing at it.

His eyes widened, and then he looked at me with hatred. "You had the joker card," he seethed. "You witch! He'll be on his way here!" He pulled a knife out of his jeans pocket.

Ron came to my rescue. He grabbed Kevin's knife wrist, twisting it behind his back. As Kevin's grip tightened on my arm, Ron grabbed Bill's empty bottle and smashed it on Kevin's head. With a grunt, Kevin dropped to the floor.

I rubbed my wrist, wincing. "Thanks," I said.

Ron grinned. "No problem."

Then, gunshots erupted from the nightclub entrance, and Ron and I ducked down behind our table as screams rang out about the club. A shiver ran up my spine at the sound of the familiar sinister laugh.

"Sorry to, ah, to bother you fine folks, but I'm look-ing for someone."

I peered over the tabletop, proving my fear. Kevin was right; the Joker had been headed here, and here he was.

"You must be new in Gotham," Ron whispered, close to me.

I nodded, too afraid to speak.

"There's the myth that the Joker appears whenever someone uses his calling card. It's just coincidence that he happened to come here when you revealed his card."

The sudden shifting of chairs and tables alerted me, and I peered over the table again, seeing the Joker propping his side against the bar, casually. He was chatting in a low tone with the bartender, his eyes restlessly shifting around the room, looking at faces, clothing, searching for sudden movements. When I thought he was about to look my way, I ducked down slowly.

There were four guys with him. Two of them I recognized to be the two men who had chased me on the fire escape – the "twin brothers" that Hunter had mentioned. They weren't twins though; they didn't even look related in any way.

Besides them, the third man was poor Ryan who looked like he had been rudely awakened despite his recovering from a hangover. While trying to look threatening for his part, Ryan looked like he could collapse any moment. It made me wonder if he was always drinking and being drunk or dealing with a hangover. He had to be walking on a line, just waiting to be put down like a sick dog.

The fourth man, I hadn't seen before. I had expected it to be Dave, but no, this was a different man, maybe four inches taller than the Joker with blond hair and sideburns. Just the look of him looked threatening – not so much as the Joker, but he seemed like a guy who hadn't smiled once before he started working with the Joker.

"C'mon, champ," the Joker said loudly, leaning over the counter and lightly smacking the bartender's cheek. "You've work-ed here for about-ah seven years. You'd re-cog-nize a new customer."

The bartender stood there, trembling and biting his lower lip. The grin on the Joker's face started to fade, and he huffed, pushing off the bar, walking away as he checked his gun for ammo.

"Ya know, Tom," the Joker said sadly as he turned sharply on his heel. "When a guy asks for something polite-ly, people are us-ually nice enough to, ah, to give him what he ask-ed for." The Joker sauntered forward, placing his hands flat on the counter and leaning over to bring his face closer to the bartender's. "I'm done with being nice. Don't-ah make this diff-icult, Tom. Just give me what I want-ah and I'll-."

"I don't have new customer tonight!" the bartender blurted out, hysterical. "I swear! These are all the usual patrons!"

The Joker reached over the counter and grabbed the man by his apron, yanking him forward and bringing him face-to-face with his menacing white face. "I'm. Not-ah. Deaf!" the Joker yelled at the poor man, who cringed and looked like he was on the verge of tears. "Ya know, Tom, a man like you should know better than to, ah, to inter-rupt people. That's what I can't-ah stand."

The Joker roughly shoved the terrified man away from him and turned to look at the patrons of The Stacked Deck. "Wanna know what else I can't stand?" he asked loudly. His gun switched hands as he said, "Liars." He cocked the gun and fired behind him, shooting the bartender between the eyes.

Several women in the nightclub shrieked as blood spurted out of the man's head before he dropped dead behind the counter. Seeing the reactions of the patrons, the Joker started laughing hysterically, his eyes alight with excitement, enjoying the fear suffocating the room.

I nearly screamed in fear, almost giving myself away, when Ron nudged my side. Looking at him, I couldn't help but fearing that he might be considering handing me over to the Joker. However, if he did plan to do that, I wouldn't have been able to do anything since he grabbed my wrist and lifting me to my feet, pulling me after him.

I collided with a chair as I stumbled after Ron, knocking it over. I fell over it, crashing to the floor and hitting my head on a table leg. The clatter caught the Joker's attention, and he snapped out of his fit of laughter instantly. I scrambled to my feet to follow after Ron, but the Joker stood in my way.

I ran straight into him.

He caught me, stepping back with my small momentum. The Joker laughed cheerfully as I struggled, but he seemed to have the strength of a bull, gripping me tightly in an embrace. "Well, well, well, seems like my hunch was cor-rect-ah," he giggled, licking his lips. Firmly wrapping an arm around my waist and trapping my arms against him, he waved his gun at the patrons. "I've found what-ah I've been look-ing for. Get back to, ah, to your drinks and games."

I tried to break from the Joker's hold again, straining to free myself, but the Joker's grip was too tight. I didn't want to go with him.

"C'mon, dar-ling, I can't-ah let you go off on your own. You might-ah get lost." The Joker laughed as he led me toward the entrance.

Then, we stopped as glass splintered over me. I blinked quickly, feeling the Joker's grip lessen for a split second. That split second was all I needed.

I quickly headbutted him, jumping on his feet and digging in my heels. The Joker's grasp slackened, and I shoved him away from me before turning to find who had aided me.

Ron motioned me to duck, a broken beer bottle in his hand. He chucked the glass at me, and I ducked just in time. It fell over my head and struck the Joker, hitting him in the back of the head. Then, Ron reached out toward me, and I grabbed his wrist, racing after him.

A frustrated growl echoed behind me before a gunshot blasted near my ear, momentarily deafening me. Ron led me to the backdoor, going through the backroom. We ran through the storage crates and burst out into the back alley.

Ron slammed the door behind him, bracing himself against it. I searched the alley for something to hold the door, and found a metal pole. Taking it, I jammed it into the door handle, securing it as best as I can.

"Run, Janet," Ron yelled, grabbing my arm and shoving me toward the alley entrance.

"Why are you helping me?" I demanded, turning back to look at him.

He hesitated, and a look of fear crossed his expression. Finally, he said, "Because a woman like you shouldn't be in the hands of a madman like the Joker." I blinked in surprise, and he growled with irritation. "Go, Janet," he ordered. "Take my car." He reached into his pockets and pulled out a ring of keys, which he threw at me.

I snatched them out of the air and then opened my mouth to protest.

"Don't worry about me," Ron insisted. "Just go! Before he catches up!"

I nodded, turned and ran. As I ran, I pressed the unlock button and nearly jumped out of my skin when a Taurus beeped loudly across the street.

I jumped into the driver's seat, shoving the keys into the ignition. The car jerked forward as I stepped on the gas, pulling away from the curb quickly. I didn't flick on the lights, knowing that that would alert the Joker as to which car I was taking. I still didn't turn them on when I was a few roads away from the nightclub.

I was driving alone in the dark, despite the few operational streetlights dotting both sides of the roads.

At sixty miles per hour, I sped down the empty streets of Gotham City, constantly looking into my rearview mirror, waiting for a car in pursuit. If it was a police car that chased me for speeding, I would gladly pull over and take the fine for speeding and driving without my license. At least the Joker wouldn't dare approaching me for a few minutes while the cops dealt with me – or he would just shoot them.

With that thought, I applied pressure to the gas, but then forced myself to take it off as I neared an intersection.

I realized how tightly I was gripping the steering wheel. I only noticed because I looked down as I was passing a streetlight, and the dim light revealed how white my knuckles were. Realizing this made me conscious of how much they were starting to hurt. It was no surprise with how highstrung my reflexes were, my body circulating adrenaline throughout.

I took a deep breath and forced my grip to relax as I crossed the intersection.

I was halfway across the intersection when the truck hit me.

Lordlink13: Oh, snap! Shadow's on the run, and she gets hit. Evil cliffhanger, right there. I'm terrible, aren't I? Tormenting all my dear readers into seeing if they will continue to read the story, just to know if Shadow's going to survive. What will happen next? I don't know because I just do things...at least this time around, I'm trying for a little more planning to see where the heck this story is going. Joker wouldn't be happy with me if he finds out, so let's keep it a secret, alright? And don't leave without reviewing!