Hey, you're almost done. Good job.

Chapter 2

It took them about ten minutes to find themselves back where they'd started, and as they began to climb up the next set of the stairs, the lights flickered on. They were dim- just the back-up lights. But they provided the survivors the ability to see their footing. As they were enjoying this new luck, a crackle came through the airwaves. The building had been built, originally, as the Cold War began. As such, it came equipped with intercoms on each level, to warn of danger. They were old, dusty, and generally unused, but it seemed they still worked.

"Good afternoon, dearies." Bruce was slightly disturbed by his lack of response. The others froze, looking as though they were toddlers caught stealing from the cookie jar. The High-pitched Economist stopped his mumbling, and twisted his head about. It wouldn't have been surprising had he gotten whiplash: he looked like a hungry frog searching for an elusive fly. "A little bat told me that someone out there doesn't have a bullet in the brain. If you qualify for this description, come on down to the lobby, and we'll get you all fixed up."

"How does he know?" Tadget hoarsely demanded. "How does he know?" The Earthquake-Expert suddenly gained an expertise in ethical matters.

"Goddamn cops," He responded in a harsh whisper. "Half of them are corrupt, and the other half are incompetent. Goddamn it. My taxes go to them and they sick the Joker on me." At the thought of her rescuers being her condemners, Tadget burst into fresh tears. Bruce shushed her.

"Come on," He commanded. "We don't know how long the lights will be on."

"What about the roof?" Tadget sobbed. "If they know about us, they know the police are coming. They know where we're going." It was a thought that had occurred to Bruce, but his plan at the moment was shaky. He'd decided he would go onto the roof first. It wasn't a particularly good plan, but there really wasn't any other option. With no equipment and the three survivors with him, he couldn't exactly stomp through the front lobby. And he couldn't have them wait anywhere- they were all on the brink. Not to mention they had little sense of self-preservation.

"I'll go out first," He told her. "Make sure it's safe." The others hadn't budged from the platform. Now, reluctantly, they followed him up the stairs.

"You know," The Joker continued over the intercom. "You guys are probably being very quiet, trying not to get caught. So, let's play a game. I'll tell the funniest joke I know: you'll have to laugh, and then my boys will shoot you. Ready? This one is a side-splitter." As he told gruesome joke after gruesome joke (one involving a nun and a machete, and another babies and a lawnmower) Padget began moaning softly. She looked sick to her stomach. Bruce was more worried by the High-Pitched Economist's reaction: he chuckled.

"What's often late and complained about by most gothamites, despite saving their day routinely?" A brief beat. "The subway and the Batman! Where the hell is he? You ought to be saved by now. Guess he has more important things to do. Maybe he just doesn't like you. Could that be it? You all are just not worth saving? Scum of the Earth, little nothings? Good for you! You should try out for the henchman gig. Come down to the lobby; I'll sign you up!" He cackled, and it was suddenly pitch black.

Tadget screamed, horrified, and the High-pitched Economist didn't join in this time. Just her ghastly scream, echoing. It sounded as though she were being murdered violently. The lights came back on. Silence reigned for a total of five seconds.

"Heard that." He finally said, sounding pleased. "See you soon."

"Oh, no, oh, no, oh, no, oh, no." She moaned terribly, pulling on her skin as if she could become invisible if she could just get it off. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

"You've killed us!" The Earthquake-Expert accused, looking vicious. Perhaps it was the new, dim lighting, but he suddenly resembled a rat. "You've fuc-"

"Shut up." Bruce commanded, glaring at him shortly.

"She killed us." The Earthquake-Expert replied. He paused for half of a beat, his face suddenly brightening as his eyes glimmered in a horrid way. He looked like a madman who'd found a new way to butcher. "They don't know how many of us there are; they only heard her scream. Just leave her in the office- they'll never kno-!"

"Shut up." Batman's voice was harsh. His presence loomed, and the dim shadow he cast seemed to envelope the entirety of the stairwell. The Earthquake-Expert trickled back from a rat into a timid economist. "It was a bluff."

"A bluff?" The Earthquake-Expert repeated incredulously.

"Obviously," Bruce responded, as though he were dealing with an idiot. "Haven't you noticed? This acoustics of this stairwell are unreliable. She screamed on this floor, but it echoed down the entire building. It was a bluff. A way to make us nervous, make us move against each other. Like the stupid jokes: he's just trying to unnerve us." His eyes narrowed. "And you just moved to give him your co-worker." The younger man suddenly looked sheepish and foolish. He stared at the ground.

"Oh."

"I-" Tadget dabbed at her mascara. "I didn't kill us?"

"No," Bruce replied. "But if we stay here it will only be a matter of time before they find us by luck. We have to keep moving." She nodded, breathing in deeply to compose herself. He nodded at the two, then glanced over at the older man. He had been abnormally quiet since the Joker's disturbing humor had begun. "Are you ready?" He asked. The High-Pitched Economist glanced over, as though he had been reading a newspaper, and hadn't quite been paying attention. With the same casual interest of such a person, he said,

"Oh, yes." With that, Bruce tore about, and began marching up the steps. He heard the sound of rapid but soft footfalls, and soon found Tadget in step beside him. Her heels, it seemed, had been forgotten.

"Thank you." She murmured. "For that." He glanced over at her; her makeup had run, and, even in this moment of calm, she looked terrified.

"Of course." He finally replied, flashing her the famous Wayne-smile. She blushed despite the situation, then began,

"How on Earth did you think about the...the echo, the acoustics. I would have never thought of that." It was a small compliment coming from a woman who hadn't thought of calling the front desk after a small tremor. Despite the lack of interest he currently had in keeping up his charade, Bruce replied,

"I dunno. It just, sort of, seemed obvious." It had, but he had to sound nonchalant and idiotic about it. He was Bruce Wayne, after all. He'd played the part of leader for the greater part of this adventure (for lack of a better word), but they were (hopefully) coming to the end of it. He had to return to basics.

"Wow." She gaped at him like a flirtatious fish. "You're real smart." As he was deciding how to respond to that, a huge explosion racked the building.

"An aftershock!" The Earthquake-Expert surmised, leaping to the wall. He pressed himself against it, but it was too late: whatever had occurred had already ended.

"That felt different," Tadget noticed, her intimate conversation with her boss forgotten in light of this newest development. "It wasn't the ground so much as..." Her eyes rolled up, and she stared, in horror, at the ceiling. "The roof." She breathed. Bruce finally had had enough.

"Stay here." He commanded, rushing up the final set of stairs. "If I'm not back in a minute, try and hide somewhere." It was a poor instruction. They had come so close...if Joker and his men had taken over the roof, hope was practically lost. He threw open the door, and found himself with five guns in his face. A figure stood in front of a burning helicopter, its pilot dangling from a torn leg, and its broken blades swinging lazily. The figure turned, and grinned.

"Hey, Brucie! You're not dead!" He took out a gun. "Wanna change that?"

Keep going; you might as well, right?