Fascinating Villains

{47} - Jack

My eyes are fixated on the barely visible slit between the bottom of the subway train doors and its sticky light gray floor, however my mind is actively filtering the - so far - meaningless flow of thoughts around me.

Unsurprisingly, Cheryl's public transport of choice is the subway, exactly for the reasons that make me wary of it. I must admit that its shadowy corridors and the forces of order's complete abandon concerning the supervision of the underground maze have been advantageous for our activities as Foul Play and Esperanza. It could attract attention if my friend were to pick me up constantly, so she came up with a simple way for us to meet up unsuspiciously.

The subway lines cover a decent proportion of the city, so rare are the locations that are significantly out of bounds. Usually, we meet up at a subway station that is close to our targeted destination, which is chosen by the more experienced vigilante among the two of us. More often than not, Cheryl has a car parked outside the station for us to travel swiftly, otherwise we make use of the rooftops and alleys to get to wherever we are going. She is in charge of deciding when we should avoid a certain station, for instance, if we are visiting it too frequently, and of evaluating the risk of dragging an automobile along on each specific outing.

The gangster has contacted me telepathically, asking me to meet her at an atypical subway station that opens up on the outskirts of Gotham City, near one of the best neighborhoods in town. The area in question is occupied by vast highly protected private properties belonging to the wealthiest of Gotham's elite, at least to those who prefer a mansion over a penthouse at the heart of the city. Coast Lane, where David Merc resided, is a more compact version of this region. If the rumors are true, Bruce Wayne's home will not be far from where we might be heading.

I shrug my sports bag more securely onto my shoulder, feeling the weight of my vigilante costume instead of the habitual effect of my roller skates. Between dating Colin and irking criminals with Foul Play, my roller skating availabilities have been reduced. I miss it terribly, even if I manage to pop by 'Rampes n' Roll' minimally once every two weeks, without accounting for the outdoor roller skating I always sneak into my schedule.

I step out of the subway station, disconcerted by my surroundings. Gotham City's steadily gray weather and polluted air have caused any remaining snow to thaw, leaving icy sploshes like surprise ice skating rinks all over the roads. That is regular for mid-February, and expecting any different on Valentine's Day in Gotham would be foolish. What I find irregular is the phenomenal lack of skyscrapers and... Near silence. It has stopped raining, so the creaking of frozen tree limbs in the wind and the occasional sound of tires scratching the ground are the only noises to be heard. No screams, no gunshots, no car horns... Just nature. It is almost unbelievable.

"Tanza! Over here!"

The strip club manager's voice slices clearly into the air. It may be polluted, but the low temperature makes it crisp enough to create an illusion of cleanliness.

I cock an eyebrow up, mystified. The young woman is waving at me, seated behind the wheel of a red Jaguar that glimmers even if the sun is nowhere to be seen.

"Hello..! How many cars do you rent per week?" I taunt her, entering the vehicle.

"I dunno, I lose count."

Smirking, she rolls up the windows, and we are off.

The mammoth houses are flying by us as the luxurious automobile tears up and down the winding tar streets.

I ask her, /Where are we going? Shouldn't I change, first?/

/Not yet... We aren't on an assignment right now./