The Aster {Book 1 & 2} (Batman/Joker/Robin/Batgirl story)

2.10. The Blue Eagle

A few people stop and stare as I burst into the store, but no one does anything to help.

I've seen talk in the newspapers about the problem of public apathy in Gotham but I've never understood what it really was until now.

Who cares. They're all fucking bastards.

I stumble over to the pay phone in the corner and hit the reverse charges button and punch in the first number that comes into my head.

After a few seconds the dial tone stops and I can hear someone on the other end of the line.

"Bruce! Please come and help me!" I'm gasping for breath so bad I don't know if he can understand me.

"Meredith! Where are you? What's happening? Is it the baby?"

I take a few seconds to gain control of myself, my breathing, glancing around I can see a few people are subtlety glancing over their shoulders, curiously listening in.

"A joke," I swallow. I don't know how else to say it. "His father played a joke on me."

"Dear God, where are you?" He demands frantically, he sounds like he's running.

"I'm in a drugstore opposite the Iceberg Lounge. Please hurry -"

A piecing scream cuts me off, I'm so scared I almost drop the receiver.

The whole store is staring at a man standing in front of the checkout desk. He's looks almost deranged, his bloodshot eyes flashing around wildly. A gun is in his shaking hands.

One of the Joker's men? No. Those eyes, the ancient overcoat, his hair is sticking together in greasy clumps. A junkie. Are you fucking kidding me? I'm being help up by a fucking junkie in a trash heap of a store?

He spins around and his eyes land on me.

"You! Put that phone down!"

I can still hear Bruce talking through the receiver as I silently obey. I can't believe this.

He swerves round to face the cashier, his hand jerking the gun with every syllable.

"Open the till!"

I shrink back behind the plastic screen surrounding the telephone. A few months ago I could have taken him down easily, a kick to the wrist and to the groin and he'd be down. Now I can't do anything, I can't risk it. I, and the one, two, three, four, five other people are at the mercy of someone half off their mind on crack.

I've just escaped the Joker to go through this. The irony is almost laughable.

The cashier fumbles with something on the desk. Oh god, I really hope he doesn't risk trying something.

A woman with several packets of toilet paper bundled in her arms lets out a small whimper. Instantly the gunman spins around and screams at her.

"Shut up!" He swings back round to the cashier, sweat flying off him as he moves. "What's that you're doing?!"

"Nothin'" he stammers hysterically, "just opening the till like you said!"

Through the scuffed and dirty plastic I can see his hands are holding tightly onto a baseball bat hidden under the counter. Oh, no, no, no... don't be an idiot.

He starts to fumble with the buttons on the till with his free hand, I can see the baseball bat is rolling closer and closer to the edge of desk.

Shit.

The bat drops onto the floor. The resulting gunshot is instant.

I jerk back as the cashier's blood spatters onto the screen, people's screams shatter through the air, the louder they get the more gunshots there are.

I dive down behind a plastic stand full of candy. If a bullet comes my way it's not gonna stop it but I can't just stand there and be a target.

Suddenly the large window behind the desk shatters, instinctively my hands fly up to protect my face from the glass missiles that are shooting through the air.

Without warning something else lands beside me, it pulls back and catches onto the metal stand. Rope attached to a Bat boomerang.

Batman!

I twist myself around just in time to see a black figure swing through the window, his feet flying out and kicking the gun out of the junkie's hand and sending him crashing down onto the newspaper stand.

But something isn't right. This isn't Batman. He's younger, the only sign of his identity is a blue eagle like emblem on his chest.

Who the fuck is this?

With one blow he's got the junkie on the ground, kicking the gun away and pulling out a pair of handcuffs.

Instantly pull myself together and crawl over to cash register. I don't have to go near the worker to know that he's dead. His face is frozen in an expression of horror and realisation, his eyes are glazed over, staring blankly at the ceiling. But it's the gaping hole in his neck that says it all.

"Someone call an ambulance!" I feel like I have to say it, but there's really no point. He's already dead and no one's listening, they're all too busy running out of the store screaming, some are stuffing as much as they can into their pockets before leaving. The bastards.

I look back to where the man in the black mask is securing the knots on the junkies ankles.

Suddenly he looks up and our eyes meet. Recognition hits us both at the same moment.

"Robin!" I choke, my eyes opening wide with surprise.

He stands, adjusts his black glove, opening and closing his fist.

"It's Nightwing now," he says coldly.

I open my mouth to say something, I don't really know what, but before I have the chance he turns and leaps out of the window.

I take a deep breath. Dick... Nightwing?

Okay, I think I'm gonna be sick.

Out of respect I move away from the cashier's body before I start throwing up my guts. In the distance I can hear police sirens getting louder and louder, people crowding outside, chattering, looking in curiously through the windows, the doorway with their phone cameras out.

I grab a packet of baby wipes off the shelf next to me and rip it open and wipe me mouth. I feel disgusting, surrounded by vomit and blood, my hands stink of blood...

"Meredith!"

I spin round.

"Dad!" The word comes out before I can stop it but I don't care. I throw my arms around Bruce, I can feel him hugging me tightly back, wrapping his trench coat around me.

"He's gonna get me Dad," I whisper. "He's gonna get me."