In the Mind of Madness

“Thanks, Kenna. That was really good, I appreciate it.”

Smiling rather numbly, Kenna picked up the plate she had brought Brawley about twenty minutes earlier. It had been laden with food but was empty when she lifted it off the toilet seat. “It was no problem. Sorry you’re still stuck here. I’ll work on it.”

“Once you get used to it it’s not so bad.” Brawley grinned at her, but it fell at the emptiness in Kenna’s answering smile. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah, I’m just kind of worn out.” Kenna shrugged and lied. She felt wide awake. “After I put this in the sink I’ll come back.”

Brawley shook his head. “If yer tired it’s okay. I was alone four days, another night won’t kill me.”

“I’ll be back in a bit.”

Kenna left the bathroom, scowling at the goon who locked the door after she went out. Was it really necessary to lock the door? The only thing inside was a skinny teenager, and he was handcuffed to a toilet.

The walk to the kitchen felt long and honestly she had no desire to go back in there. She knew that the cup of spilled whiskey would still be on the floor and she didn’t want to look at it. Also she wasn’t really sure where The Joker had gone and running into him sounded about as fun as sticking her arm in a bear trap.

Turning the corner, Kenna was surprised to find Darla down on the floor with a towel wiping up the mess. Now she felt bad.

“Darla, I was going to get that.” She said guiltily as she put Brawley’s plate into the sink amid the other things she’d used to cook. While washing them wasn’t necessary Kenna probably would, the mundane task reminding her of less clownish times in her life.

The woman on the floor didn’t look at or answer Kenna, continuing to slowly mop up the liquid. Kenna walked towards Darla and bent over to pick up the cup. Darla snatched it out from under her hand, swiftly rising and tossing it into the sink with a clatter. Kenna straightened up and stared at Darla in shock, her eyes widening even more when Darla faced her looking extremely anxious.

“Kenna.” started Darla, and her voice was shaking. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know.” Kenna was truly taken aback by the emotion in Darla’s shining eyes.

Darla ran her hands over her face and into her spiky hair. “Explain…Just explain what I saw, would you?”

“What are you talking about? Saw what?”

Making a noise somewhere between a groan and a whine, Darla strode over to the kitchen table. She gestured at it with one hand and held the other out in Kenna’s direction. “Here. When I walked in you and The Boss was sitting right here…What was that?”

“It was nothing.” Kenna put her hands on her hips. “We were fighting like we always do.”

The worry on Darla’s face only deepened. “I’ve seen you fighting, and it doesn’t look like that. He looked like…and you looked…Kenna.”

Kenna was frozen as Darla all but lunged for her and grabbed her shoulders. She could feel how hard Darla was quaking, and her hands were freezing on Kenna’s bare skin. “Darla, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Are you okay?”

“Are you with him?”

Silence that was thicker than concrete settled between them. Kenna looked into Darla’s eyes, which she noticed jumped around like a pair of mad rabbits. She couldn’t comprehend what Darla was talking about, and she was beginning to think that maybe Darla wasn’t doing so well.

“With him?”

“Kenna…I’m so frightened for you.”

That wasn’t what Kenna expected. Her eyebrows creased but then shot up as Darla sobbed and hugged her tightly. “Darla!”

For a long moment Darla gasped into Kenna’s shoulder before the psychiatrist had the sense to embrace her back. It made sense for Darla to be scared for her. Kenna was scared for herself some of the time. But Darla had never said anything about it before, and she certainly hadn’t been so passionate about it. Kenna started to feel uncomfortable after a moment and gently put her hands on Darla’s arms to hold her away.

“I don’t understand.” Kenna spoke slowly, giving Darla time to sniffle and wipe her eyes on her sleeve.

“That’s why I’m so worried!” snapped Darla, her voice low and thick. “Somehow you just don’t see it!”

Shaking her head, Kenna let go of Darla. “I think you’re suffering from exhaustion or something, Darla. You should go lay down.”

“Kenna, you aren’t listening.” The red-haired henchwoman seemed a little frustrated with her. “Sometimes I swear you’re even more stubborn than he is.”

“I’m counting on that.” Kenna turned Darla around and put her hands on her back, forcing her to walk out of the kitchen. “Now you’re going to take a nap and wake up not talking gibberish, okay?”

Darla sighed deeply. “What will you listen to? Good lord.”

The blonde had no clue what Darla was talking about. What did Darla mean by her being ‘with’ The Joker? Well, Kenna knew what that would generally mean, but it was so ridiculous to think Darla meant that it was hard to even consider it. Steering Darla towards the area where she and the other goons slept, Kenna shook her head at the very thought of that. Ridiculous.

“Promise me you’ll be careful.” Darla spun again to face Kenna once they reached their destination. “I know you hate me, but you’re the closest thing I’ve got to a friend.”

Hearing Darla speak so frankly was a little startling. Kenna frowned. “I don’t hate you, Darla. Maybe I did a little bit before…or a lot, but you’re my friend, too. And I’m always careful.”

“You’re reckless with him.” grumbled Darla as she laid down on one of the numerous jumbled up sleeping bags. Apparently she was tired because she crossed her arms behind her head like a pillow and shut her eyes. “But he’s the same with you.”

Kenna made a face and started to walk away. “Okay then, crazy. Sweet dreams.”

Darla mumbled something else but Kenna couldn’t hear it, and she was grateful for that. Hearing Darla say those things had put an odd twist in her stomach even though she knew it was just the fatigue talking. She had seen Darla stay up for days on end and it must have finally gotten to her.

Now she would go back to Brawley. She intended to ask him more about his life, fascinated as well as horrified by how violent it had been. To hear a kid say he thought his mother had been murdered with just about no inflection was worrisome. She almost didn’t want him to go back to his father, but then the war between the Irishman and The Joker would keep on raging.

“—why now? Affer four days?”

Kenna froze when she heard Brawley talking. She was around the corner from the hall leading to the bathroom, just short of being seen by the man guarding it. Who was Brawley talking to? She listened closely and her heart kicked into overdrive when it was The Joker who responded.

“Well, Dr. Know-It-All had a point, though I’d never tell her that. You’re no use to me all…bungled up.”

The woman eavesdropping in the hall was torn between running in to make sure Brawley was safe and waiting there to see what else was said. She felt guilty, but she leaned against the wall to continue listening in.

“Er, thanks, I s’pose.” Brawley grunted. The sound of clinking metal reached Kenna and her eyebrows shot up. Was The Joker unlocking him? “She’s a good woman.”

The Joker giggled quietly. “Oh, you would think so, kid.”

“S’that mean?”

“Puberty’s a bitch ain’t it?” The Joker sniggered some more.

Brawley scoffed. “Aw, that ain’t what I meant.”

“Sure it isn’t.” footsteps came in Kenna’s direction and she stumbled back a step to make it look like she was just walking that way. But The Joker didn’t make it out, Brawley speaking and causing him to stop.

“Why do ya keep ‘er here, then? If ya don’t agree wit me?”

The Joker sighed in a way that Kenna could tell was false sympathy. “You’re not used to hearing ‘no’ are you, kid? This isn’t dear old daddy’s playground; this is mine, no matter how much he says otherwise. So what I say goes, and I say I don’t have to answer the stupid questions of little Irish punks. In summary: nothing I do is your business, so stop asking.”

“Boy, yer defensive.”

Kenna felt fear for Brawley’s sake. He was pushing The Joker, which by and large wasn’t a good idea. Granted, she did it all the time, but that was different. She didn’t really care what he did to her anymore, which was troublesome but she tried not to dwell on it.

“And yer an idiot.” The Joker did a fairly good impression of Brawley’s enunciation. “Doesn’t matter to me what you think, kid, as long as your papa stops being a big meanie and gives me back my things. Do you think he’s even coming? Maybe the money is more important to him than you, hm?”

Brawley chuckled in a way that almost sounded intimidating. “He’ll come, clown man.”

“Good to know.” said The Joker caustically. “Now just sit in here and shut up. And if you get any big ideas about escaping go on ahead. I’m starting to like the idea of your brains splattered all over the place.”

“The both a ya are in denial.” Brawley snorted derisively as The Joker’s footsteps came towards her again.

Bracing herself to see him, Kenna started to move forward like she’d just been walking that way. But she was stopped by arms flinging around her from behind. One crushed her arms to her sides and the other closed a hand on her mouth, preventing the shocked gasp she gave from making a sound. Then she was pulled into the closet on the other side of the hallway.

It was dark inside and Kenna was too surprised to really do anything yet. Whoever had a hold on her was strong, but Kenna knew it wasn’t Darla by the height of the person and the size of their hands. Her body stiffened even more than it already was when she realized the hand over her arms had a knife pressed into her ribs.

“Don’ make a bloody sound.”

The voice had an Irish accent, but somehow it sounded familiar. Kenna struggled a little but ceased any movements when it caused the knife to poke into her skin. Looking down at the crack of light coming form under the door, Kenna could see as well as hear The Joker’s clacking footsteps passing them. How odd that she wanted to scream at him for help rather than out of anger.

Suddenly the two black shadows of The Joker’s legs paused, just as he was going by the closet. Kenna’s eyes expanded and the man behind her applied a bit more pressure over her mouth. The Joker took a step back and stood silently. It was as if he sensed something was wrong. Kenna shook with the effort of not crying out.

After a moment laced with tension The Joker kept going and Kenna’s stomach plummeted to her feet. The man restraining her relaxed a little and put his mouth right by Kenna’s ear. She shivered in disgust as the wet heat of his breath.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen: yer gonna be silent an’ do everything I tell ya to, or I’ll stick this knife right in yer pretty little lung. Understand, doc?”

Kenna nodded tersely, trying to keep her breathing even. She didn’t know what that meant. Was he taking her somewhere? For the first time leaving the warehouse didn’t seem like a good thing.

The man waited a few moments before releasing Kenna’s mouth to open the door. It opened quietly and then his palm was over her lips again. Kenna’s eyes darted around, hoping The Joker or one of his thugs was lingering around, but the hall was empty. Her newest kidnapper dragged her in the direction of the bathroom, and Kenna felt a glimmer of hope. The goon standing guard there would stop it.

They rounded the corner and Kenna raised her eyebrows pointedly at the armed heavy standing just a few feet from the bathroom door. He saw them and his face turned to surprise, but he lowered his gun to his side.

“We’re doin’ it already?”

Kenna nearly bit her tongue off in shock. Now he was Irish, too? She turned her head enough to see who had her, and it was another goon that she recognized. That was why his voice was familiar: she’d heard him speak before, just not with an Irish accent.

So the Irishman had infiltrated The Joker’s men. Kenna remembered Brawley was in the bathroom and made the connections. She was being taken hostage to get Brawley back. Kenna’s skin crawled as she realized the Irishman would likely kill her. A small noise of fright escaped her and she fought against the arm around her torso.

The knife jabbed at her and she winced. That time it had definitely broken the skin. “Hold the fuck still.” the criminal behind her hissed, then turning his attention back to the other man. “O’Dwyer said if we got a chance to take it, an’ I had a chance. Plus the clown just unchained the kid, so we don’t got that to worry about.”

Kenna could have smacked herself for insisting that The Joker undo Brawley’s handcuffs, but her hands were unavailable.

“Alright, alright.” The guy who had been guarding the door peered around the corner to make sure they were alone before nodding his head towards the bathroom. “You stay ‘here wit ‘im an’ I’ll go pull the car up ‘round the back. Be five minutes at the most.”

“It’d better be more like three. Get movin’.”

When the one who was getting the car had disappeared Kenna was hauled into the bathroom. She was set free as the man locked them inside. Brawley emerged from one of the stalls looking curious and then his face turned to astonishment.

“Connelly? What in the hell are you doing ‘ere?”

Kenna started to think about taking her chances and jumping the guy, but he shoved his knife in his belt and replaced it with a gun pointed right at her. So that plan wouldn’t work. He went over to Brawley and inspected him.

“Ya look alright, kid. A little skinny, but ya always were. And dirty as all ge’ out. Ready to go home, then?”

Brawley nodded, but pointed at Kenna. “We ain’t takin’ her, though. She didn’t do nothin’ wrong an’ she helped me out here.”

Kenna started to smile in thanks, but the mole named Connelly dashed her hopes again. “Sorry, kid, but I have to. Order came right from your da’s mouth.”

“What’s ‘e want with her?” Brawley seemed upset. His hands clenched into fists and he glared at the gun-wielding gang member. “Tha’ insane fuckin’ clown don’ actually give a hoot about ‘er.”

That sounded like the truth, but Brawley gave Kenna an uneasy look that said he was lying to try and save her. When she thought about it, Kenna wasn’t entirely sure if The Joker would come after her. He had said he didn’t like people touching ‘his things’, which he considered her to be one of. She could feel the panic on her face as she watched Brawley arguing unsuccessfully with his liberator.

“Ain’t no fightin’ over it.” The thug finally said, his tone a bit angry. He brandished the gun at Kenna, making her flinch. “We’re takin’ ‘er…” then he gave her a looming smile. “There’s someone yer da wants ‘er to meet.”

Kenna didn’t like the sound of that one bit. She chewed on her lip and started to take a step back as slowly as she could. Locking herself in a stall was beginning to sound appealing, even if she knew it wouldn’t stop them from getting to her for long.

Brawley made a noise of frustration. “He ain’t gonna hurt ‘er.”

“O’course not, lad.” returned Connelly, and Kenna wasn’t convinced.

Fight or flight would have to come into play sometime. Kenna dived into a stall and locked the door as quickly as she could with her shaking fingers. The moment she had the wobbly lock secure she hopped up on the toilet and drew in a big breath, yelling as loud as she could. The reverberation was almost painful in the enclosed room.

“JOKER! DARLA! HELP!”

“You fuckin’ little bitch!” seethed the man outside with Brawley. His large boot came in contact with the rickety door and it rattled ominously, the bolt loosening even more. “Now ya made us do things the hard way!”

“JOKER!” Kenna screamed at the top of her lungs despite how bad her throat hurt from the first holler she gave. “IN THE BATHROOM!”

Her heart was pounding and she was close to tears. The old door would give out from one more powerful kick like the first, and surely the man on the other side was just about to do that. Kenna cowered against the back of the toilet, trying to make herself as small as possible so her hands would be able to shield more of her body. She wasn’t looking forward to the pain. Maybe they would be merciful and make it quick. No, that wasn’t likely.

The door’s bottom hinge broke as the man’s foot collided with it again. Kenna sucked in air to try and scream for help again, but the gangster had burst in and was grabbing her by her shirt. Kenna’s hands tried to claw him off, but he easily lifted her body away from the toilet and out of the stall. He held her up to his face, which was contorted with rage. It wasn’t the most frightening she’d seen but it definitely didn’t put her at ease.

“Yer lucky the boss wants ya alive.”

With that he struck her hard over her head with the butt of his gun. The pain was shattering, and for a few seconds Kenna could only see black and a few swirling colors. Suddenly she was on the floor, her cheek against the cool tiles, and Brawley was trying to help her up.

“Come on, we gotta go!” she could tell from his face he was yelling, but everything sounded like it was far away. Kenna blinked slowly and Brawley spun in her vision. Enormous agony was throbbing on the side of her head. It was so bad Kenna felt nauseous.

She thought she might have heard a familiar voice and a gunshot, but then a much closer voice spoke in a livid Irish intonation. “For fuck’s sake! I’ll knock ‘er out an’ just carry the bitch!”

Then something struck her again, and the pain was so overwhelming Kenna had to embrace the blackness to get away from it.