Body Count

More skill, cunning, and courage was involved in sneaking out of the raucous night club than Shane thought possible - or necessary. In the middle of the afternoon, her heart pounding a tattoo against her already bruised ribs, she had tip-toed out of the small room and into the dingy, rank hallway. The dusty light bulb that had lit the top of the staircase was flickering feebly, casting temporary shadows on the walls and dusty carpeted floor. With all the stealthiness she could muster, she took the two steps needed to cross the hall and pressed her ear against the faded wooden door.

Low voices emanated from inside, but she couldn't discern any of the words uttered. The conversation sounded muted enough, though, that she was sure The Joker was nowhere nearby. Turning the brass doorknob gingerly, she shouldered the door open and peered hesitantly inside.

The room she looked in on was much bigger than the one she had been sharing with The Joker - so much larger, in fact, that she paused to look around in shock. She appeared to have entered a living room of sorts, complete with a sagging, stained couch and a television with a cracked screen. Three other open doorways led to different bedrooms, and a closed door led to what she guessed to be the washroom.

More low voices reached her from inside the far rooms, whose occupants were concealed from view. In the front room, where she was now, three men sat in different places, staring at her from on top of their ratty sheets.

Wordlessly, she put a finger to her lips and beckoned Will, Stone, and Cliff out into the hallway with her. They rose to their feet surreptitiously and crept out through the small space between the door and the wall after her.

"What?" Stone mouthed, frowning. The other two looked at her intently.

"Daemyn," she mouthed back, her expression set determinedly.

Will's face immediately softened - he looked concerned and sympathetic. She glared at him as Cliff looked at his worn out running shoes.

After a pause, she looked them square in their faces and said in a hushed voice, "I need somebody with me when I go back to the warehouses. Stay if you want to - I won't hold it against you. I'll find another volunteer."

Will looked offended, while Stone looked slightly hurt. Contrastingly, Cliff rolled his eyes.

"Do you think, after the hell we've gone through - for you, might I add - that we would stay behind?" Cliff raised an eyebrow at her questioningly, his arms crossing over his chest. A strand of light brown hair swept over his calculating eyes. Shane noticed for the first time - as it had never seemed to be a factor to his personality - that he was much shorter than she was.

"Come on," Stone said, a playful grin flitting across his features. "We're going to be where the action is, and the action seems to follow you." His hair, which Shane clearly remembered being dirty blond when they met, was fading into solid brown at the roots, and was slowly extending past his ears. His hazel eyes gleamed at her jokingly.

Will nodded agreeably. "We won't abandon you." His eyes, so intensely and deeply blue, bored into hers in a way that brought back strangely pleasant memories. Out-of-control shaggy brown hair framed his thin face.

Shane grimaced at Will's words. "I wasn't saying it would be abandonment," she said harshly, pressing a hand to her eyes. "I told you: I would never hold it against you. I know that what I'm asking you to do is run a fools' errand with me. No matter what, though, I'm going through with it."

Stone chuckled silently. "Of course you are." The other two grinned along with him.

Shane looked sidelong at Stone, holding back a laugh. "I think I remember ordering your death when we first met," she said slyly. "Where's the resentment?"

He stared at her, long and hard. She began to wonder if he had taken her dark humor seriously, and then he said, "You didn't mean it."

"Of course I did," she said quietly, surprise evident from her tone. "I didn't know you then. I doubt I would have cared."

Stone stared at her in astonishment. "You would have had me killed?"

"Not you, Stone," she corrected carefully. "A man I never knew, then. You weren't a you to me that day. I wouldn't tolerate any threats like that now. You know that." she finished, somewhat pleadingly.

Stone sighed. "Yes," he said roughly. "I know."

There was a moment of awkward silence, during which the four of them stared at the ground. When the silence was finally too much, Cliff said briskly, "Well, what for it, then? Are we leaving?"

Shane nodded, relieved by the broken tension. "Yes. But we need food first - do you know where the kitchen in this place is? I sure don't."

Will looked up. "I know where it is. I'll be right back," When he was on the top step, he turned back and said, "We don't need much, do we?"

"No. Just enough to carry. We'll scrounge, if we have to."

Will nodded and disappeared nimbly down the rickety staircase.

It wasn't long before he was back, bearing a paper bag full of dried fruits and meats. Stone shoved these into a bag and slung it around his shoulders.

Shane took a deep breath. "Let's go - out the side, though. I don't want to be seen right away."

She knew it was inevitable that people would see her - it was broad daylight, after all - but there was no other time to leave. The Joker would be in the room at night and in the mornings.

The four of them prowled the hallways, taking corners at a slow crawl, and eventually made it to the inconspicuous side door they'd entered through a month before. It swung open without a sound, and they were out on the baking hot concrete and under the blazing white sun.

They soon found that being sighted wouldn't be a problem for at least another mile. This part of town - no matter what time of day, it seemed - was not heavily populated. They skirted the edges of buildings, stealing glances back over their shoulders frequently, and in this fashion slowly made their way to an unknown landmark.

In truth, Shane had no idea how to get to the docks. All she knew was they were obviously near the ocean, so she tried to head west as often as possible. No matter where they went, though, the sound of frothing and crashing waves up against sheer rock never met their straining ears.

For hours they walked, looking for something they'd recognize or even a stray road map thrown aside as litter. They found nothing - despite the fact Shane had grown up in this town, the side of it she was currently creeping through was utterly alien to her.

Darkness quickly fell around them, blanketing the cooling pavement and the low, menacing buildings in velvety blackness. They started to see several men standing in the mouths of alleys, making subtle transactions with the passers by.

Drug dealers, Shane thought absently.

Another hour or so convinced them that they were lost - nothing looked familiar to any of them, and along with that, Cliff had developed a hacking cough and sneezed every few minutes.

"We have to ask for directions," Shane said desperately, leaning up against a grimy wall and breathing heavily. "We'll never get anywhere the rate we're going."

"You can't," Will said, hands on his knees. "One of us has to."

"I'll do it," Stone offered, peering around in the night to find somebody. "He doesn't look promising, but how about Mr. Bag Man on the corner?"

Shane nodded. "Anybody. Hurry back - and don't draw attention to us."

As Stone strode off towards the distant homeless man, the other three backed into the darkness of a narrow alley and unsheathed knives.

They watched silently as Stone conversed with the man. His movements became agitated, and the man on the corner shouted at him. Stone stormed away, back towards the other three.

"What?" Shane asked breathlessly. "What was that about?"

"I don't know!" Stone said frustratedly. "He was speaking French!"

Shane's heart fell. "Do any of you ... ?"

The other three shook their heads morosely.

"Damn it," she said, burying her face in her hands. After trying to think of an alternative, and finding none, she looked at Will. "Give me your hoodie."

Will took a step back. "That's dangerous."

Shane grew angry due to her increasing distress. "Does he look like he cares if I'm a mad axe murderer to you? Give me the hoodie."

Will reluctantly shrugged off his baggy black hoodie, and handed it to Shane. She pulled it over her head and threw the hood on, trying hard to hide her face.

She started towards the man, every step seeming to weigh her down with heavy rocks. She clenched her fists and marched on.

"Hello," she said hesitantly when she reached the man. He looked up at her sharply. "Do you ... ahh ... speak English?"

"Je parle français!" he snapped.

She gulped. "Pardon. Ahh ... voulez-vous m'aider?"

He brightened visibly. "Oui. Qu'est-ce que vous voulez savoir?"

"Directions. Savez-vous comment arriver à les quais?"

"Oui. Vous avez besoin de faire demi-tour et tournez droite dès que possible."

"Merci!" Shane said happily. "Bon soir."

"Et vous," he replied.

She walked back to them, a smile on her face.

"Well?" Stone asked impatiently. "Where do we go?"

"Back the other way, and turn right as soon as possible. Straight from then on, I assume."

And so then turned back on themselves, Shane handing Will his sweater back. As they walked, Cliff continued to splutter and cough.