CHAPTER 5
The door to my room crashes open, jolting me awake. I scramble out of bed, stumbling and knocking into the bedside table. "What the fuck?" I curse, seeing Dick lying on the floor, having been thrown straight through my door and into my room.
A man looms over him.
The mother - the one who abducted Rachel - appears behind the unfamiliar man. They look at each; a look of camaraderie. He must have replaced the father that Kory burned alive.
Dick wraps his legs around the new father's waist and slams him to the ground.
Without thinking, I snatch up the lamp resting on my bedside table and I crash it over the mother's head. She stumbles forward, though doesn't fall. She's certainly stronger than your average middle-aged housewife.
"Find Rachel!" Dick calls as he grapples with the father.
The mother grabs for me but I slip out of the way, racing into the hallway and toward Rachel's room just as her door opens.
"What's going on?" She looks frightened, wide-eyed and confused.
"Time to go. Now!" I grab her arm, ready to take off, but we barely get a step down the hallway when the two kids appear. The boy swings a bat casually, the girl a razor wire. "Shit," I mutter, pushing Rachel back.
"Get her out of here," Kory says from behind us and we turn to see her already glaring down the two kids.
Rachel and I don't have to be told twice. We race down the hallway in the opposite direction and smack straight into Gar at the top of the stairs.
"Go, go, go!" Rachel and I both yell and the three of us hurdle down the steps and into the carpark. Kory is not far behind us, her heeled boots clacking on the cement loudly. With our backs to a dark sedan, Kory stands in front of us as the whole family makes their way out of the motel and surrounds us. She begins to glow red, but no flames miraculously spurt from her hands this time.
"Damn night-time," she mutters.
I wedge Rachel between my body and the car, Gar close by our side. The family circle us like vultures studying their prey.
"Where the hell is Dick?" I ask, worry making my stomach churn. Maybe I shouldn't have left him so quickly to find Rachel.
Before anyone can even try to answer, smoke begins filling the air, obscuring our sight and engulfing the family.
What the hell is going on?
From within the smoke, a grappling hook surges forward and lands in the father's shoulder, yanking him back into the shadows.
A blurry figure vaults over the car across from us, landing on the ground smoothly.
As the smoke clears, it becomes evident exactly who the figure is; Dick Grayson, outfitted in a full superhero costume, cape and all.
"Dick?" Rachel exclaims.
"That's Robin," Gar breathes and I realise why the outfit is so familiar. Batman and Robin have been making national headlines since I was young.
We watch as the family converge on him and as he fights back effortlessly, moving faster than them and taking them down two at a time.
Gar slips away, unzipping his jacket as he goes.
A powerful kick to the mother's face has her smacking into the ground whilst Dick simultaneously breaks the girl's arm and flings her into a streetlight.
The roar of a tiger signals Gar's reemergence and he makes quick work of the boy, grabbing hold of him and tossing him from side to side.
The mother gets back up, glaring at us. But when she sees she's outnumbered and has no chance of beating us, she decides to surrender instead.
We drag all four of them upstairs and tie the parents up tightly to chairs in Dick's room with the kids in Rachel's room. As I knot a cord around the father's feet, I look up at Dick.
"You know, if you'd told me you were a vigilante as well as a cop, I probably wouldn't have given you as much shit."
Half of his face is covered by his mask, but I can still see the amusement in his eyes as he huffs out a breath. "I'm not a vigilante, not anymore."
I tighten the cord and then stand, looking him up and down. "Yeah, I can see that."
He gives me a deadpan glare. "It's not something I advertise, alright? I left that life behind."
"Why? Falling out with Batman?" I joke but when he simply shakes his head and walks away to get changed, I bark out a laugh. "Oh shit, I was right. Huh." I cross my arms over my chest, studying our captives. The mother and father stare straight ahead, unflinching. "Freaks," I mutter, kicking the mother's chair as I move past.
We all meet back down in the parking lot to discuss what to do with them as Dick searches through their car. He finds their GPS and begins flicking through it.
"We should torture them," Kory immediately suggests. "Until they give up who they're working for."
"I don't think that's going to work," Dick says without looking up from the device in his hands. "Their behaviour, the way they're reacting…I've seen it before, in Gotham. I think they're brainwashed."
"Brainwashed?" I repeat, scarcely able to believe it. Beside me, Rachel's head hangs low, her sleeves covering her hands. I nudge her gently. "Hey, you ok?"
She backs up a few steps and I follow her, my concern growing.
"They're not going to stop coming for me," she says quietly. I feel the others glancing over at us, but my attention is focused solely on her. "You could've died today…again."
"Hey, I'm completely fine. Not a scratch on me," I assure her. She blinks up at me, staring at the scrape across my cheek from the explosion the other day. "That doesn't count, it's not a new one," I say, touching it with my fingertips.
She shakes her head. "If you stay with me, you're going to end up hurt."
"Rach, listen—"
"No," she interrupts, startling me with how harsh her voice is. "Enough. You're not like them." She waves to Dick, Gar and Kory behind me. "You don't have superpowers or crazy fighting skills. You can't stay with me."
Panic begins to squeeze my throat. "Rachel…"
"You need to leave, get as far away from me as possible."
"No. I'm not going to do that. I will never abandon you, I told you that from the very beginning—"
"I said LEAVE!" Her face morphs, her eyes turning black and the very ground beneath us shakes with her rage. I take a step back, tears burning my eyes.
"Rachel enough," Dick steps forward but she doesn't take her gaze off me.
"I don't need you anymore, Will. There is nothing you can do for me. I just want you to go."
The pain, anger and fear inside me all mix together into a horrible concoction. I swallow it all back and nod. "If that's what you want." My voice cracks. I curl my hands into tight fists until I feel my fingernails bite into my palms, then slip past her and walk quietly up to my room to start packing.
Dick follows closely behind me; I feel him watching as I shove my clothes into my bag.
"She's upset, she'll come around," he says. I shake my head, but I don't think I can talk without breaking down. "Will, you don't have to go—"
"She's right, isn't she?" I turn to him. "I mean, really. She doesn't need me anymore. She has you. All of you."
His lips press together. "That doesn't mean she doesn't need you."
I zip my bag up and haul it onto my shoulder. "Just look after her, alright?"
When I go to move past him, he puts a hand on my arm. "Just stop…Where are you going to go?"
I shrug. "I'll figure it out."
A long breath leaves him. His hand is warm, wrapped around my arm. "Let me drive you, at least. I'm going to Chicago - that's where the GPS showed the family was last. I'll drop you off somewhere along the way."
I hesitate, but not for long. There are no better options available to me. "Ok."
In the car, music playing very softly on the radio, I rest my forehead against the window.
"Let me get you an apartment somewhere, just for a few months," Dick has been trying various ways to get me to accept money from him for the better part of this drive.
"No."
"A hotel then, at least for the next couple of weeks."
"No."
I hear the frustration building in his voice. "So what are you going to do then? Sleep on the street?"
"I have enough for a motel for a day or two. I'll figure the rest out after."
Out of the corner of my eye, I see him shake his head, hands shifting on the steering wheel. "You're so fucking stubborn."
That's true. I just don't want to owe him, or anyone, anything. I've been stuck in the foster system for so long and now - even though I'm not quite eighteen yet - I'm finally free. I want to do this on my own, find my own way. There's no way I'm building my new life on the foundation of Dick fucking Grayson's money.
We pull into the car park of the train station and I push open the car door.
"Hey, wait. Take this." He holds out a burner phone to me. "It's got my number in it. If you need me, ever…I'll be there."
There is a moment where I contemplate whether I want this lifeline, but I end up taking it from him. There's comfort in knowing that I have someone to call, just in case.
"Thanks." I slip it into the pocket of my jeans. "For uh…you know. Everything."
He nods as I get out of the car and close the door behind me. I lean down and peer through the open window. "Promise me you won't let anything happen to her."
"I promise," he says, all that sincerity and earnestness shining through. I shift the bag on my shoulder and force myself to turn and walk away. I feel his gaze burning me all the way into the train station.
From behind one of the glass booths, the worker smiles up at me. "Where to darling?" She beams.
I study the list of train departures behind her.
"St. Louis."
~O~
My neck aches. I move my head side to side, massaging my left shoulder with my knuckles. Sitting on a train and then a bus for two hours isn't my idea of fun.
It's dark - close to midnight - and I need to find a place to stay. In the distance, I can see the Gateway Arch, looming over the city like a watchful protector. I like St. Louis; I was placed here once when I was younger and the family I lived with wasn't so bad. I wonder briefly what would happen if I showed up at their place. I only lived with them for about five months, but they liked me back then. Called me cute as a button.
Would they turn me away? Would they welcome me back in? Would they even recognise me? Probably not. In fact, there's not a single person alive in this country that would recognise me and welcome me into their house. No one. That didn't seem to matter so much when I had Rachel by my side, but now…
I rub my eyes roughly, trying to clear away any tears that might try to struggle their way to freedom.
At the seediest - and cheapest - motel I can find, I book a room for two nights, using almost all the money I have on me. The sheets are dirty and there's no hot water, but it seems safe enough. For now.
~O~
TWO WEEKS LATER
"It's all set up, you'll just have to wait for it to reboot," I explain, jamming my hands into the pockets of my jeans.
"Thanks. You're like a whiz with this stuff," Brandon waves his hand at the four computers set up against the backdrop of his parents' garage. "Where'd you learn to do all that coding?"
"Uh, that wasn't really coding and I had a foster brother when I was younger who could hack into pretty much anything," I shrug. "He taught me some stuff."
"You were a foster kid?" He asks like I'm a rare animal in a zoo or something.
I hesitantly nod, backing toward the open door of the garage. "Look, I gotta go. That's $300."
"Right, yeah, sure." He digs around in his pocket, pulls out $400 and hands it over like it's nothing. Judging on the size of this house - his parents' house - four hundred bucks probably is nothing to him.
"…Thanks." I turn to leave, hoping to make a quick escape before he realises he just overpaid me, when he grabs my arm.
"Listen, I don't know what's going on with you but my friend Zach - the one who recommended you to me - he said you're in a pretty tough spot. If you ever need a place to crash, you're more than welcome here. My parents are touring Europe, so I have the house to myself—"
"That's real nice of you, but I'm good." I pull out of his grip and get the hell out of that house.
Back at my motel room, I count all the money I've managed to make and save over the past couple of weeks fixing up computers and selling them and helping people out with tech problems. This room costs next to nothing and I've been living on two-minute noodles, so I've managed to save nearly $800.
Enough for a nicer motel room; that's for sure. I go to the convenience store down the street and I buy a cupcake and a single candle. Back in my room, I stick the candle in the cupcake and light it.
"Happy birthday to me," I mutter, blowing the candle out. The cupcake tastes horrible and I toss it into the trash can by my bedside table.
I lie back on my hard, uncomfortable mattress and stare up at the mildewy ceiling. I have the most money I've probably ever had in my life, but I'm alone. And I'm miserable.
~O~
Rachel touches the burns on her neck with gentle fingers. They hurt, but the ice Angela—mom gave her has helped.
The ice can't, however, take away the sting of pain that comes from knowing Kory wants to kill her. Not even being home - a semblance of home, anyway - with her birth mother and Gar can help that.
"You ok?" Rachel's mom appears behind her, looking at her in the bathroom mirror. Rachel turns away from the sink to face her mom.
"I'm alright."
"I know this is hard for you. I can't imagine how scared you've been, dealing with all of this alone…"
"I haven't been alone," Rachel points out. "I've had my friends."
"Right, Dick and Gar…But I mean before that. When all of this started…I just wish I had've been there for you, so you didn't have to go through it by yourself," her mom smiles softly, sweetly. She's a soft-spoken woman, probably due to her no-doubt traumatic years in captivity.
Rachel shakes her head, leading back against the sink. "Even before that, I was never alone. I had Will."
Her mom pauses to study her. "Right, your friend from school…she stayed with you after everything? And then just decided to leave?"
"No…No she would've never left me. I—," Rachel cuts herself off. It's hard to admit. "I sent her away because I was scared."
"Scared of what?"
"That she'd get hurt because of me. She stuck by me through everything, never left my side. But now she's alone and…It's because of me."
Angela reaches out and puts a comforting hand on Rachel's arm. "I'm sure you can fix it. Do you have a way of contacting her?"
"Yeah…Dick gave her a phone and he gave me the number, but…I don't think I can. How could she forgive me?"
"If she's a real friend, who really loves you, then she'll forgive you. And it sounds like she is."
She definitely is, Rachel thinks. Will has been her one true friend for years, always sticking by her and protecting her, no matter what.
"Thanks, mom," Rachel is hesitant to call her that aloud, but is rewarded by a warm smile and a squeeze of her shoulder.
Once left alone, Rachel pulls her phone out, her thumb hovering over the number Dick gave her. Finally, she presses call.
It rings. And rings. And rings. Just as it's about to go to voicemail, Will picks up. "What?" The bluntness in her voice is so familiar to Rachel that it's actually comforting.
"Will? It's me," Rachel breathes. There is a moment of nothing but slight static.
"I thought you were Dick."
Rachel can't help but laugh a bit. "No, he gave me this number. I just wanted to….Happy birthday."
Another few seconds of silence go by. "Yeah, thanks. I mean, it doesn't really matter."
"You're finally eighteen. Never beholden to the foster system again. It absolutely matters," Rachel counters. Will has been waiting for this day for the better part of the last decade.
"Yeah, no you're right. It does feel good." But Will's voice is flat and the guilt creeps up on Rachel like the remnants of a nightmare.
"Look, Will…I am so sorry about what happened. What I said to you; I didn't mean it. Not any of it," Rachel begins to cry, wiping at her tears with the sleeves of her shirt. "So much has happened. I met my birth mom and she's amazing but then Kory tried to kill me and now she's taken off and Dick's gone after her and the truth is that everyone around me gets hurt and I just need it all to stop." She's full-blown sobbing by the end of her long winded sentence. "Please, Will…I need you."
For a long, winding moment, there is nothing. And Rachel is sure that Will is going to decline, to tell her to go fuck herself.
But then, "Where are you? I'll come to you."
~O~
Killdeer Ohio is over six hours from St. Louis. I use all of my money to buy a cheap car that growls and sputters every time I turn it on. It's a shitbox, but I'm hoping it'll last me till I get to Rachel's mom's house.
My eyelids are heavy by the time I reach Killdeer. It's late and I'm in the countryside, where the houses are spread far apart. In the dark, it takes me awhile to find the right address. Angela's house is a little rundown, with weeds growing wildly out the front. But regardless it looks nice and spacious. It looks like a home.
I pull my crappy car into park and walk up onto the front porch, noting that the front door is slightly ajar. A sense of foreboding twists my stomach into knots.
You're just nervous to see Rachel, I tell myself. Though my instincts are rarely wrong.
"Hello? Rachel?" I call out, taking a few steps into the house.
"We're in here!" Rachel's voice sounds panicked and I rush through to find her kneeling on the carpet of the living room. Gar lies in front of her, bleeding profusely from…everywhere; his mouth, his ears, his eyes. He looks half dead.
"Oh my God. What the hell happened?" I demand.
"I don't know. I don't know what's wrong with him," Rachel sobs, her makeup streaked down her cheeks.
"Rachel, it's going to be ok. We can heal him," a woman who must be Rachel's mom reaches out and puts a hand on Rachel's shoulder. She's pretty, with long, blonde hair and a gentle face.
"I don't understand. What happened? Is he sick or something?" I drop to my knees and touch Gar's forehead. He sputters and coughs up more blood. "We should call an ambulance."
"They're not going to be able to save him. There's only one person that can save him now," Angela says but she isn't talking to me; she's talking to Rachel.
"Who?" I ask.
"Rachel, you need to summon your father," Angela continues and that single phrase sets off every alarm bell in my head.
"Sorry, what now?" I lean forward. "No way. That's a terrible idea. Absolutely not."
"What if it's the only way to save Gar? I can't let him die," Rachel cries.
"Listen to me, Gar is human, alright? Yes, he can turn into a tiger or whatever, but he is still human. Which means he needs a human doctor! I've got a car outside, let's get him in and take him to the damn hospital where he can be treated!" I insist.
"The nearest hospital is over twenty-five minutes away," Angela says. "By the time we get there, he'll be dead. Rachel, you know what you need to do."
"Ok, you need to back the hell off," I snap at her. I had come here hoping to build a good relationship with Rachel's mother but something is definitely off with her. "No one is summoning Rachel's freaky father."
"Then Gar will die," she states, venom seeping into her voice.
"I can't let him die, Will," Rachel sniffles, standing up. "I just can't."
"Rachel, don't!" But it's too late. Her skin loses its colour and her eyes go black. A wind picks up in the room even though there are no windows open. She steps over Gar and walks toward a standing mirror. Black smoke begins to swirl within its reflective surface. She raises her hand and her whole arm gets sucked into the mirror.
"What the hell is happening?" I shout, standing up and trying to pull Rachel back. "Rach! Rachel!" She tosses me aside with ease and I crash onto the living room floor, groaning at the impact. When I look back up, it's to see her yanking a shadowy figure through the mirror. I can scarcely believe my eyes; even after all the crazy shit I've seen.
A man, dressed in all black, gazes at Rachel and slowly lifts his hand to stroke her cheek. "My child. It's so good to finally meet you."