Chapter 10 – Epilogue
The Bat
"Come on Kate, you call that a punch?" Dick teases, dodging and deflecting Batwoman's blatantly telegraphed left hook. "It's like you're not…"
But his taunt goes unfinished as he spins away, barely escaping the knee Kate was about to drive into his abdomen. It takes skill to make Dick abandon a verbal jab midstream. These training sessions have helped Kate hone her already impressive fighting skills, and it's good for Dick to have an opponent who keeps him on his toes. Sometimes I spar with them, sometimes I just observe, offer pointers. Sometimes Tim and Damien are on hand, but not tonight. I wanted it to be just the three of us.
"Dick, Kate," I call them over, "I heard from Gordon earlier. Looks like Scapegoat's gone missing."
"Missing?" Kate asks indignantly. "Figures he'd be just like the rest; out before you even have time to miss them."
"Do they know what happened?" Dick chimes in.
"The tapes show him being sedated and taken away by what look like doctors," I tell them. "But I know the face of every man and woman who work at Arkham, and I've never seen these men before."
As I pull up Arkham surveillance footage, Alfred comes down the steps with a tray carrying three glasses of iced tea.
"I thought perhaps some refreshment was in order."
"Good call, Alfred," Dick offers approvingly, grabbing a glass and downing the contents in one uninterrupted series of gulps.
"Thanks," Kate adds, taking hers.
Alfred sets a glass down next to me, but my focus is on the screens; scanning several cameras worth of footage for any sign of a vehicle leaving Arkham.
"Do you ever, just for a second, wish you'd let Scapegoat finish what he started?" Kate asks. "Just a moment's hesitation and no more Joker. Would that have been such a bad thing? What if he just died? Nothing to do with you, just met the ugly end we all know awaits that sick prick. Wouldn't you feel at least a little bit of relief?"
"Maybe; but there's a world of difference between knowing it happened and letting it happen. No killing, that's always been the rule. Letting someone die when you could prevent it is no better. There have to be lines we don't cross, lengths we won't go to. Only gods and monsters have no limits. Joker may well deserve to die… he probably does. But I won't let him make me a killer, betray myself and everything I've fought for. That would be his final victory. Even as the life left him, he would know that he'd won. No."
"Still," Kate sighs, "I can't stop wishing he was dead."
"Same here," Dick adds; "And you know I get the whole 'no killing' rule. I've never questioned you on that. I'm not saying we should do it, but if you could wish someone out of existence…"
"He'd be the one," Kate concurs.
Suddenly the com crackles to life, followed by Jim Gordon's voice.
"Batman, are you there?"
"Right here," I reply. "Any luck tracking Scapegoat's escape?"
"No, we have no idea how they got him off Arkham Island, or even who they were. But that's not why I'm calling…"
"What is it Jim?"
"They have to search… it's part of Arkham procedure, when an inmate goes missing. They have to search the whole cell block, each cell. And…"
"No," Dick is the first to say it.
"Oh God," Kate half-whispers.
I say nothing, just lower my head, close my eyes, breathe deep and listen to Jim deliver the news that we all know is coming.
"He's out, Batman. The Joker has escaped."