Bluejay: The Protégé of Black Canary

The Diner

I immediately knew I was going to be sacrificed or something. Who's to say this lady wasn't in a cult or something crazy like that? Once she'd successful sped us out of danger, my mind had frantically raced through all the possible scenarios of escape. Maybe I could try leaping out the car! I tried the handle, praying it was unlocked.

It wasn't.

My next thought was to try and break the glass and jump out the window, but as I'd seen earlier, the glass was bulletproof. I thought about throwing my backpack into her face to cause a distraction, but seeing as we were going, like, a hundred miles an hour down a thirty five mile road, I elected not to.

My knuckles were white from gripping the inside of the car. My body was tense and ready to spring, but so far my unnamed rescuer had made no threatening moves. Remind me why you got in the car with a stranger!? The voice in the back of my head screamed at me. But then again, I had nearly become a shish-ka-bob on one of those fun Intergang spears.

I searched for anything in the car I could use as a weapon- maybe like an ice scraper or something- but had no avail. We sped down the road, the blonde woman at the wheel expertly driving in between the other vehicles. She had the driving skills of a race car driver.

Wouldn't it be a shame if I ruined the inside of this nice car? I thought solemnly as I fought not to puke. I wasn't sure how long we'd been driving, it felt like hours. The woman might have tired to communicate with me at one point, but I was too preoccupied with the sound of the engine, and the blurring landscape outside.

Deep breaths, I reminded myself. You have to stay calm. If I started having flashbacks of that day... it would be all over. So I fought to stay awake, and in control. I barely noticed as we finally pulled into the parking lot of an old fashioned diner. A big neon sign read Rosie's in bright pink letters.

The woman smoothly pulled the vehicle onto the curb before killing the engine. I watched her very carefully as removed the key, and finally turned her full attention on me. I froze, petrified under her piercing blue stare. She folded her hands in her lap, and made no threatening moves towards me.

"Okay, I'm going to make you a deal." She began. "I'm going to unlock the car, but you have to promise me you'll listen to what I have to say before you take off. I promise I just want to talk to you."

She studied me like I was a petri dish under a microscope. I could agree to her terms, and listen to what she had to say. If she wanted me dead, she would have just left me in the street, right? Yet, the voice in my head pestered. She didn't want you dead yet. As if sensing my debate she said,

"You might as well. Free hot meal." She shrugged casually. "So, do we have a deal?" She raised an eyebrow. Did I trust this lady? Not one bit. But did I really have a choice?

I eventually gave her a small nod. She smiled a little and with that, the woman unlocked the car and pulled herself out of the vehicle, with me doing the same thing. We slammed the car doors shut. She pressed a button on her key fob, and I could hear the car's locks turning home. She gestured to the restaurant before making way for the door.

"Shall we?"

Without waiting for me, the woman pushed open the door and disappeared inside. I considered making a break for it, despite what I'd told the woman. But, I decided against it. I didn't know who she was, or what she was capable of. I swallowed hard. She could easily take me out too, based on what I'd seen in the street. I figured it was safer to go along with her for a little bit until I could figure out what she wanted.

I bit the inside of my cheek, my pointer finger tapping furiously against my thigh. I stepped through the front door and was greeted with a blast of cool air. I scanned the restaurant, unconsciously identifying the various possible exits, security cameras, and even possible weapons. The old fashioned diner had black and white checkered flooring, with red cushioned stools lining a polished counter.