On the Road to Gotham

A call in from the shelter on Front street sent Detectives Fordham and Marshall to the back streets of old city Gotham, hoping to catch sight of their electrical metahuman. The girl had wandered into the shelter, but had soon run off when several men had come in. They had chased after her, prompting the shelter’s supervisor to call the police. It had taken nearly half an hour to match the girl’s description to Jessica Hall, the young metahuman the Joker had placed a hefty bounty on. Where the girl had disappeared to for over two months was not as important as where she’d gone after leaving the shelter. Whitney felt a dreadful sense of urgency, that if they didn’t find Jessica now they’d lose her.

“I swear to God that dog was no dog, Ford,” Janet Marshall whispered, warily eyeing the suspect denizen of Old City as it scurried past them. The hairless tail came close to knocking into her and she pressed back against the wall, full mouth tightening into a thin line. Old Gotham was home to more than the downtrodden and criminal. Over recent years the derelict collection of turn of the century houses and warehouses clustered close together against the waterfront had seen a rise in metahuman, mutant, and the plain bizarre. Janet’s dog could easily prove far more sinister and both detectives kept a wary eye on it till it vanished from sight.

When the alley was again deserted they continued forward, their goal the abandoned cannery at the end of the street. They were close to Gotham Harbor, its cloying rotten smell making Whitney’s eyes water. He wished for one of the silk potpourri balls that hung in Lex’s closets, heavily scented with his lover’s custom designed cologne. His nose hopefully twitched, then wrinkled in insult.

They found their way into the building by way of a broken window, Whitney giving his partner a boost before scrambling after. Crouching behind a dilapidated monstrosity of a machine redolent of rust and fish the two detectives listened to the echo of several voices, the Joker’s men searching for Jessica Hall. Shouting back to each other over the racket of their search Whitney suspected the hired goons wouldn’t catch sight of a herd of elephants stampeding past, let alone hear one. Unholstering his gun, the blond gestured his partner in one direction as he took the other. Hopefully they’d be able to find Jessica before the Joker did.

Easing his way around a wall of metal Whitney cursed to see movement out of the corner of his eye. Training dropped him into a crouch, gun aimed, but there was nothing there. Just hulking shadows of abandoned equipment. With a frown the detective continued on, shoulders tensed against the persisting sense of unease.

Avoiding the Joker’s men proved fairly easy, but it was pure luck stumbling into their quarry. Ducking beneath a conveyor table to avoid being seen Whitney’s focus was on the men walking past. Once gone, he eased back deeper under the table, chewing his bottom lip as he debated his next move, eyes casting about. And met Jessica’s gaze a few feet away beneath the table directly across from his. The girl had wedged herself between the table and wall, effectively blocked from sight unless you were level to level. Large pupilless blue eyes stared at him, the girl’s fear evident in the fine shaking of her limbs.

“Hey,” Whitney mouthed, unzipping his black jacket enough to show the girl the shiny badge swinging from its cord around his neck. On the back of the badge’s sleeve were the bold letters SCU. At the sight of them Jessica crawled closer.

“Help me,” she whispered and Whitney nodded with a smile, relieved the girl showed trust. It was testament to his unit’s dedication that the metahuman did not hesitate to ask for help. Gesturing with his free hand he pointed back the way he had come. Crawling out from beneath their respective hiding places, the two crouched in the open briefly before Whitney took her hand and tugged her after. Keeping close to the shadows he led her towards safety, but a sudden scream froze them in place.

“It’s Batman!”

“Boss, look out!”

“Blow him to smithereens!” Voices shouted out from the main section of the cannery and a barrage of gunfire erupted. Whitney shoved Jessica behind him, looking up to the rafters. He could just make out movement up there, but couldn’t tell if it was the Dark Knight or one of his allies. Small hands clutched at the back of his jacket and he realized they had to get out of there now, before it became a free-for-all.

Turning to face the young metahuman Whitney gripped her thin shoulders and gave a gentle squeeze. “It’s going to be okay, Jess, but we’re going to have to run for it.”

“But the Joker-“

“Is distracted by Batman. We’ve got to try now.” He smiled at her reluctant nod and reached into his coat to pull out his radio. “J, get out of here. I’ve got Jessica. We’ll meet you outside.”

There was a burst of static, but before he could hear Janet’s response Jessica screamed, yanking on his arm. Looking up Whitney saw a brightly colored ball heading their way: one of the Joker’s bombs. Grabbing the girl he shoved her ahead of him, knowing they weren’t going to get clear in time. “Run!” he shouted. Jessica looked back at him over her shoulder, eyes wide in terror and glowing whitely. Her arm shot out and electricity shot from her fingers, engulfing one of the metal storage containers and lifting it into the air. Whitney realized what she was trying to do as the several ton hunk of metal arced over their heads, but he didn’t know if it would be in time.

There was a deep hollow boom behind them, followed by a bombardment of noise, too confusing to comprehend. The ground fell away beneath them and Jessica was screaming as he caught her in his arms, holding her close as they plunged into darkness. The last thing Whitney registered before he lost consciousness was a man screaming his name.

***
With a muffled groan Whitney returned to consciousness, his hands convulsively clutching the weight resting on top of him. Whatever it was whimpered and he immediately loosened his grip. Pain throbbed with each beat of his heart, enough to make him wish again for oblivion, but recent memory was catching up with him. Where was he? Reluctantly cracking open one eye, then the other, he looked up into blackness.

“Wh-“ he coughed, the heaves of his chest stirring more noise from whom he guessed was Jessica, the girl’s arms flopping about until she was able to prop them on his own. The tight clasp of his one arm brought forth a flare of agony and he groaned, trying to pull away. Something was definitely wrong with his left arm.

“Unhmm,” Jessica moaned, struggling to sit back. Her head met the blackness above them with a dull thump and she jerked forward with a muted cry. Whitney barely caught her from falling forward.

“Easy,” he murmured. “Don’t move too much until we know where we are.” The girl nodded, carefully easing back to rest on his upper thighs. Lifting his wrist to his mouth, he used his teeth to turn on the flashlight in his watch. The whole face piece lit up and projected a concentrated beam up to the ceiling.

“Whoa,” Jessica breathed. “Some watch ya got there.”

“Yeah, here,” Whitney held out his wrist for the girl to gently take hold of. “The little knob there on the left disburses the beam.” Small fingers fiddled with the watch, then the beam suddenly broadened, illuminating their surroundings.

Jessica stared up at the discolored metal above them, its blackened surface showing signs of her unique touch. “Is that . . .”

“I’m thinking so,” Whitney muttered, staring down at what he was resting against. It looked like a piece of the cannery’s floor. “I think the floor gave way when that bomb went off.”

“Or when I dropped this thing on it,” Jessica groused, jerking her thumb up. “Brilliant move on my part.”

“You were trying to save our lives, so don’t beat yourself up too bad. I’m impressed with the amount of power you showed.” He was being honest; Jessica was powerful, but she obviously lacked training.

“Whatever.” Despite her tone, the teenager blushed. “Anyway, if we fell through the floor, then we must be in the sewers. I was trying to get down here when the Joker and his goons showed up.”

“The sewers, huh?” Moving his arm, Whitney swept the area, trying to see a way out. Or any sign of his gun since he seemed to have lost it in the fall. “There. Is that an opening?”

Jessica carefully clambered off the piece of flooring, her feet splashing into something. For a moment the girl disappeared from his sight, but then she was back, grinning from ear to ear. “There’s a way out underneath. Do you need help with your arm?”

“No, I’m good, let’s just get out of here before that hunk of metal falls the rest of the way.” He refused to look at the mess of his left arm, knowing it needed more than a couple of stitches. Right now he needed to focus, rolling himself off the platform and keeping the light focused. Feet down and Jessica took hold of his arm, guiding him to crouch down and helping him keep his balance as they crawled beneath.

“Thanks, Jessica,” Whitney said softly, straightening as they came out on the other side. Knee deep in sluggish water he stared up at the piling of metal that stretched up into the darkness. “I don’t think we’re getting out of here that way.”

Sloshing back to his side the teenager hugged herself as she took in the weight of what they’d been lying under, face visibly paling. “D-damn. That could have totally squashed us.”

“Flat as pancakes, but it didn’t, so let’s focus on getting ourselves out of here, okay?” And soon, he quietly added, thinking of Lex’s reaction to the news of his disappearance. Reaching into his back pocket he pulled out his Swiss Army knife, handing it over to Jessica before unzipping his jacket. “I need to bandage this arm and I need your help, Jessica. My T-shirt should be fairly clean so I need you to cut off the bottom. Think you can do that?”

The distraction worked, the girl taking a firm grip of the knife as she nodded, turning to face him with renewed determination. “Yep. Just hold still.” Between the two of them they got the deep gash on his arm tightly wrapped, Jessica biting her lip in sympathy when Whitney winced at her less than gentle nursing. “Sorry,” she mumbled, but the blond shook his head.

“You’re doing good, Jessica.”

“Thanks.” She looked up at him from under her lashes, chewing her lip as she finished with his arm. “Look, a half mile or so from here is where I live. From there I can get you topside.”

“You live down here? Wait a minute, is that how no one’s been able to find you? You’ve been living in the sewers?”

Jessica shrugged uncomfortably, obviously trying to appear more nonchalant than she actually was. “It’s safer down here. Guys like the Joker don’t think to come down here.”

“Because no one should live down here! Jessica, you deserve a real home, not,” his hand gesture took in the sludge, slime, and general dankness.

“It’s better than the home I left! Here!” She thrust out the utility knife and reluctantly Whitney took it back.

“Jessica, I only want to help you.”

“I know.” Taking his glowing wrist she pointed the way, then tugged when he didn’t start walking. “It’s just you can’t.”
***

TBC.
Author’s notes: I haven’t read Batman in forever, so my idea of the city is probably way off. I just like the name Old Gotham. Jessica Hall is completely mine and not based off an actual DC character. None of the sewer kids are. Thanks for reading!