Two for the Price of One

July 5th, part three

Getting the cycle was easy, the only thing that was hard was actually trying to figure out how to drive it. The result was to never be spoken again

However, what was important was that Terry was driving it, and going around Gotham. At best it looked like a kid just riding around. At worst it looked like a kid taking a joy ride.

Really, he just needed to map out this new Gotham.

At least he doesn't have to deal with multiple levels like his. Well, if anything Dick's Gotham had three levels: rooftops, streets, and the swears. His Gotham had expanded upwards and sideways. Dick's Gotham was pretty contained.

The buildings looked old yet new. Some were being demolished, others being built. Some shouldn't have existed; some were brighter versions of their broken down counterparts.

Old Gotham wasn't quite old yet.

As he drove, he noticed that the buildings began to... deteriorate. Become more run down.

'This looks like...'

'We're nearing Crime Alley.' Dick finished that thought for him.

He had to stop. He heard about how Crime Alley was, back in the day. And he wasn't sure how the residents would take it with a motorcycle running through it.

Most likely they wouldn't take to it well.

Finding a parking space wasn't the hardest as there wasn't a lot of vehicles parked in the area. However there was a space that was hidden well enough that was calling Terry's name.

As he was getting off of the ride he began to hear something. Something familiar.

Sticking close to the shadows, the Tomorrow Knight crept closer. Down an alleyway, the tall buildings blocked out light, making the area darker than the world outside. Mold clung to corners, dead rats scattered around overturned trash cans, splatters of unknown liquids stained walls and floors alike. The foul stench of rotting food and unknowns combined with the acid bite of cigarette smoke clinging desperately, choking the nose. The sounds of jeers and malicious laughter came closer as Batman narrowed in on the unfortunate souls.

Behind dark sunglasses, the creature of the night glared as he recognized the sound of punches and kicks. As well as the sound of a child in pain.

Ever so closer he began to break down his victims. Three of them, all supposedly male due to their god awful choice of clothing. Backward baseball hats, off white wife beaters, low hanging pants that showed off their boxers, fake chains. Classic retro white trash. However they were taller than him and held more muscles. But Batman fought against Jackson Chappell, a doctor filled to the brim with venom, and he fought against Big Time. And won. This wouldn't be too different. They were surrounding a child, kicking them into submission.

Those dregs weren't going to know what hit them.

If there was one thing that was drilled into him, it was stealth. Every move was calculated to be as quiet as possible. Leather didn't make a squeak, shoes didn't make a click. There was hardly even a breath heaved.

And when the dregs were too preoccupied with the "game", they never even thought that they were going to be ambushed. And then, he struck. Yanking dreg number one away drew a scream of fright.

(It wasn't night, but Batman was in his element.)

Batman then chucked him over and into an open dumpster. The 'gangster' hit it hard enough for the lid to slowly close shut with its rusty hinges.

"What the fuck?!" Dreg number two had yelped out, turning his head over to where his friend disappeared.

"Shit, Gold Rush!" Dreg number three called out.