Body Count

Her first thought of the day was, 'Why am I never allowed to get a full night's sleep?'

She had been dozing happily in the store room again, her mind buzzing with random thoughts and meaningless video-game-related jargon. She found that video-game language was easier for her to comprehend, sometimes, than what those around her said aloud. 'I need to get to Hyrule Fields ... Epona is fully grown now, I can horseback ride ... maybe Ganondorf is slower than my pony ... oh, no! I'm being chased by a Crumple-Horned Snorkack ... and I always thought fictional-Luna was just crazy ... should I stun it, or transform it? I'll just fire my blue portal at the bottom of the abyss, my orange portal at the other side of the room, and jump to my death. Maybe I'll fly out of the orange portal and live.' She understood all of this much easier than, say, 'Your screams make me feel good,' or, 'Don't cry ...'

After her latest interesting encounter with The Joker, during which she had acquired a pistol - which was lying next to her head on the floor - she had tried very hard to block out his last words about screaming. But her subconscious mind had held onto it, and in those few moments she managed to get some sleep before being woken up, the inner workings of her mind thought it was practical to translate them into something a little bit more familiar. 'Ah, Princess, you will always belong tome, Ganondorf! Despite the fact that we are sworn enemies, and have been from the start, I still find your melodic and enchanting voice enthralling. I need it nearby at all times. Therefore I will torture you and keep you in the dungeons, showing some signs of falsified affection, while in reality enjoying nothing more than hearing your childish screams of pain. Link will not save you! You have no elf-boy to come to he rescue now!' Deep, evil laughter rang in her ears as a grainy image of The Joker weilding a sword embossed with the Triforce was projected onto her eyelids.

It was as this confusing half-dream ended that Daemyn crashed into the room, his mask askew and his breathing ragged. Piercing rays of white light blinded her as her eyes snapped open.

Daemyn was looking around frantically, and she assumed his own eyes had not yet adjusted. He finally spotted her movement on the floor, and held out a hand to drag her to her feet. "We have to leave. Come on. Now."

All feelings of sleepiness and fuzziness drained from her system at once, instantly alerted by Daemyn's frantic tone and the sound of thundering footsteps all over the main hall of the building. She could hear men shouting at each other, their voices meshing together in a chaotic mess of fear.

She had stripped down to a form-fitting black t-shirt and a pair of swim trunks when she'd collapsed onto the sheets hardly an hour ago. She nodded at Daemyn, who turned away agitatedly, and she got rid of the shorts. A pair of black jeans replaced these, and a white tank-top went over the black shirt. She snatched her mask up - the latest one she had inherited, with a black smirk - and tucked her pistol into the back of her jeans. It felt uncomfortable, but she ignored it.

"Will told me to give you this, too," Daemyn said as she turned him back towards her. He sounded mildly confused, but mostly he was in full-blown panic-mode. She took from him a thin black vest, and tugged it on curiously. Now that she was dressed - in clothes all lent to her by her three goons, she realized - she was frowning in a determined way and clutching her silver knife. "Come on."

Without further ado, Daemyn sprinted down the hall and through the door onto the main room. She shot after him, her body overly aware of every noise she heard and sight she saw.

Dozens upon dozens of men in clown masks were rushing around the building, setting things on fire in small piles and putting them out once the pile was reduced to ash. Other things were being taken out of the building entirely, presumably to be tossed into the ocean. A clown, whose clipped tones she recognized as Odie, was bolting towards them shouting things over the clamor.

"Everything! Destroy it all! I don't care how, just do it! Daemyn," he said breathlessly, coming to a halt in front of the two of them. "Go on, help us, we need all evidence of our bieng here gone."

"How soon?" Daemyn said, all business.

"Ten minutes ago."

Daemyn nodded and ran away from them. Shane stared at Odie.

"What's going on?" she demanded.

"Someone leaked information. The cops have us. We have to leave - everybody is either evacuating or destroying evidence. You should help, too."

He hurried away. Shane had noticed, while the larger part of her mind was contemplating his words, that he had been too panicked to be cruel to her. Things must be bad, then. Very bad.

She hurried into the crowd, inserting herself into one of the groups of working men. They were setting fire to old food wrappers and burger crumbs. A line had formed, tossing a bit of rubbish from one to another and then into the flames. She joined in quickly, breaking into a sweat.

Conversation was going on around her, rough and careless. She listened in on the nearest one.

"Why are we here?" one clown was saying worriedly. "Shouldn't we be gone by now? To hell with evidence, this is life or death."

"There aren't enough cars. Some guys are already safe. Drivers are coming back and forth, ferrying us to the new location."

"New location? Where's that?"

"Only the drivers know."

Shane pondered this. The Joker had kept most of his men on site to destroy what they could, while sending out a group of drivers to herd people back and forth to a new location. If he already had a new location, then he must have known that this would happen soon. Which explained the pistol.

Terror trickled down her spine like an egg cracked on her head. She had brought this on all of these people. They were coming for her. What would she do? Would she be in an escape car by the time the police got there, or would she be forced to stand and fight? Worse still, would she be abandoned?

Suddenly, she saw The Joker strolling through the chaos, hands behind his back and seeming completely at his ease as he barked orders. "You three!" Shane looked over to see her goons make their way towards him. "Go get the food - downstairs in the other warehouse - and put it near the doors for the drivers to pick up. And you," Daemyn stopped his work and looked up. "Take some people and destroy the second warehouse's evidence once they're done," Daemyn nodded and gathered up a team of ten men, and they all rushed away. The Joker walked over to the line Shane was working in. Fire threw all of their shadows into flickering relief. "Oh, and, Princess ... have that knife ready. If anything happens, don't hesitate with it. Use it," He popped the last 't' and paused. "Those men that are coming - those cops - they'll shoot to kill everybody. Everybody but you. If they're listening to your father's latest pleas - oh, yes, I'm keeping a very close eye on your father - they'll want you alive so he can say goodbye."

"Why would they kill everybody else, then?" she asked, still tossing things into the fire and sweating profusely under her mask. Her breathing was heavy and labored. He took no notice.

"Well, since that last little trip into public - where we met dear Mr. Bruner - they've been trying to connect all of those nasty men to crimes. And they have. Bank robbery, murder, arson, the works. They all get life or death." He cackled at his joke.

"Murder?" she said, still huffing and puffing.

"Everybody we took hostage in the bank robbery you attended was killed."

She nodded. She wasn't exactly okay with the idea of all those people dying - she vividly remembered the small boy sucking on a lollipop and blinking curiously up at her - but she wasn't surprised, either.

"Oh," The Joker said, as though remembering he'd left the toaster on before going out to see a weekend matinee. "And everyone at the play was killed, too. Along with their families."

Another pang of shock jolted her spine, but she continued working. Another building full of people, dead. She tried to keep the appalled feeling from showing in her movements, but she was never good at concealing emotions.

"Don't be worried," The Joker said, misreading her abruptly agitated movements. "As long as I'm nearby ... you don't need to worry. Well, obviously I'll be trying to get myself out alive before you, but you're a close second. Oh, and, don't be scared to use that shiny new pistol. It works very well on meddlesome police-bastards. I know what you can be like," He pulled her out of the labor line, and pulled her closer so he could whisper in her ear. "You can be angry. Aggressive. Fearless. I know you can. Be that girl you were in the theater all that time ago. You'll do just fine."

By this time, most of the goons had filtered out and been driven away from the facility, but a few remained behind. Stone, Will, Cliff, and Daemyn had finished in the second warehouse and were now loitering near the doorway and talking in hushed tones. Max and Odie, too, were wandering around silently. Max, for the first time since Shane had ever seen him, seemed afraid.

The Joker looked around without concern, obviously sensing the tension that hung thick in the air. "Ricky will be back soon. With the car. We'll all be leaving in that one."

They all nodded, his voice having carried around the empty space easily now that the noise had died down considerably.

"And if it comes to a fight," he added thoughtfully, "Kill as many as you can."

Sirens wailed in the distance.