Lex Williams guided the Batmobile through the deserted streets and brought it to a controlled stop in front of Wayne Tower.
Barbara leaned forward in her seat, eyes widening. She pointed toward a utility pole near the entrance.
"Look! That's my dad!"
Lex followed her gaze.
Commissioner James Gordon was bound high against the pole, wrists tied behind him, torso secured with thick rope. Below him, a dense ring of zombies clustered shoulder to shoulder, clawing and snapping at the air. Their rotting fingers scraped uselessly against smooth metal.
The only reason Gordon was still alive was simple physics. The pole was slick and narrow; the undead couldn't climb.
And he was lucky in another way too. No winged infected had noticed him—yet.
Even so, his situation was seconds from catastrophic.
"Batman, do something!" Barbara's voice cracked.
"Breathe," Lex said evenly.
He slammed the accelerator.
The Batmobile roared forward like a steel predator unleashed, plowing into the outer ring of zombies. Bodies ricocheted off reinforced plating. He steered with brutal precision, calculating angles, scanning rooftops, windows, ledges—anywhere the Scarecrow might have stationed backup.
After several deliberate passes, the mass beneath the pole thinned dramatically. The remaining undead staggered aimlessly, disorganized.
Lex grabbed the grappling pistol from the console and shoved it into Barbara's hands.
"Go. Get him down. I'll cover you."
She didn't hesitate. The grappling line fired, embedding near the pole's upper bracket. A second later she was airborne, boots planting against metal as she ascended.
"Dad! It's me! We're here!"
Gordon lifted his head slowly.
His face was chalk-white. His eyes didn't focus.
"Barbara?" His voice trembled—then broke. He looked past her shoulder and screamed. "Scarecrows… there are so many scarecrows."
She glanced around, confused. "What? Where?"
"They're everywhere," he whispered, shaking violently.
Inside the Batmobile, Lex kept one hand on the wheel and leaned partially out the side window, Glock steady in his grip. He fired controlled bursts at any zombie drifting too close.
"Barbara!" he called. "He inhaled fear toxin. He's hallucinating. Everyone looks like the Scarecrow to him."
Her jaw tightened.
"Cut him down. Now."
She sawed through the rope with her knife, then hooked one arm around her father's waist. With her other hand she fired the grappling line again, preparing to descend safely.
"Dad, hold on. I've got you."
A sharp mechanical shriek cut through the air.
Whoosh—
A rocket streaked from a broken window in Wayne Tower and slammed into the base of the pole.
The explosion detonated with concussive force.
Metal sheared.
The pole snapped.
Barbara and Gordon dropped.
Lex whipped around in his seat.
"Barbara!"
They hit pavement hard, but not fatally. The blast had angled away from them.
Barbara scrambled upright immediately, patting her father frantically. "Dad? Are you hurt?"
"The scarecrow!" Gordon sobbed, trying to crawl away from shadows that didn't exist.
Lex's pulse steadied. No visible shrapnel. No blood pooling.
Unbelievable luck.
"Move!" he barked. "Get in!"
Barbara dragged Gordon toward the Batmobile. Space inside was already tight; the vehicle had been engineered more like a weapon than a family sedan. Between reinforced plating and mounted systems, the interior barely accommodated three.
She shoved her father inside and squeezed in after him.
Another rocket screamed toward them.
Barbara hadn't even fully closed the door.
Lex floored it.
The Batmobile launched forward just as the rocket detonated behind them, flipping debris skyward.
Inside Wayne Tower—
A masked figure in a tattered burlap hood strode across the lobby floor. He snatched the M202 launcher from the criminal who had fired.
Then he punched him hard enough to drop him flat.
"You idiot!" Scarecrow snarled. "You almost killed Batman."
The man on the ground shook uncontrollably.
"Batman belongs to me," Scarecrow hissed. "Understand?"
Behind him stood hundreds of newly armed criminals, fresh from broken cells. Fear toxin hung faintly in the air—mild doses. Not enough to induce full hallucinations. Just enough to make them pliable.
Terrified.
Obedient.
"And you," Scarecrow called out to the crowd. "Remember this. Only I kill Batman."
"Yes, boss," they answered in uneven unison.
Scarecrow breathed deeply, savoring it.
Fear was music to him. A narcotic. The Joker sought chaos for amusement.
Scarecrow sought terror as proof of superiority.
The city trembling under his chemical grip—this was art.
And Batman's fear? That would be his masterpiece.
—
Lex drove several blocks before stopping outside an abandoned storefront.
He scanned the street, thermal overlays sweeping rooftops. Clear.
He stepped out, checked the interior—empty shelves, shattered glass, no movement. Secure enough for now.
He returned to the Batmobile.
"Barbara. Bring him."
They helped Gordon inside the store. The Commissioner collapsed against a wall, rocking slightly, whispering the same word over and over.
"Scarecrow… scarecrow…"
Barbara looked exhausted but steady.
"I'm going back," Lex said.
She turned sharply. "I'm coming."
"No."
He handed her the Glock and two spare magazines.
"You protect him."
She glanced at her father's trembling form. He couldn't even stand unassisted.
She knew he was right.
"If I'm not out in an hour," Lex added, "you leave. Get him somewhere safe."
She took the gun.
"Thank you," she said quietly. "For saving him. Again."
"You did the hard part."
Her eyes lingered on him a fraction too long.
There was something searching in her expression.
"Batman," she said softly, "I know you'll win."
Lex gave a casual half-wave as he turned away.
But as he walked back toward the Batmobile, a thought pressed against the back of his mind.
Does she know?
No. Impossible.
His voice modulation was clean. Body language masked. No personal tells.
Still…
He pushed the thought aside and climbed back into the driver's seat.
The engine growled to life.
Back toward Wayne Tower.
—
Inside the store, Barbara locked the door and moved heavy shelving in front of it. She checked the Glock, chambered a round.
She knelt beside her father.
"Dad, it's me. You're safe."
He flinched from her touch.
"The scarecrow is here," he whispered hoarsely. "He's right behind you."
She swallowed.
"Look at me."
But he couldn't. His pupils were dilated, darting wildly. The toxin had rewired his perception. Every shape. Every shadow. Every movement triggered primal terror.
He wasn't just hallucinating.
He was afraid of the world itself.
Barbara clenched her jaw.
Batman had gone back alone.
Again.
She stared at the door long after the Batmobile's engine faded into the distance.
"Whoever you really are," she murmured under her breath, "come back."
Behind her, Gordon curled tighter into himself.
"Scarecrow… scarecrow…"
Outside, the wind carried the distant echo of another explosion from Wayne Tower.
And Lex Williams drove straight toward it.
....
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