Body Count

With the company of nine other people and the comfort that over half of them knew where they were going, Shane found the journey back to the club easy - even enjoyable at some points.

Despite it being broad daylight, Shane was the only one who donned a mask on the way through town. The ten of them used back roads and alley ways to make their way through the giant concrete maze they were in, with Shane walking in the middle with Stone and Cliff by her sides. They were coughing and hacking less, but they were still weary from the trip. The other men skirted the edges of their little group, trotting along and circling slowly in a makeshift watch. Odie was striding at the head of the group, head constantly whipping back and forth at the quietest of sounds, a snarl on his dirt-caked face. Shane grinned whenever she saw Odie's expression - as if he had taken it upon himself to be their ruthless leader on their adventure through the sprawling city.

It was an easy excursion, yes, and they met very few people - all of which luckily escaped with their lives - but it was not a short venture. It took the ten of them most of the day before their feet finally found slick pavement and their eyes met derelict buildings once again. There was no need to take to discreet roads anymore, as nobody wandered these dangerous downtown pathways during the day.

Finally, when Shane's throat was dry and her head was throbbing from the heat of the sun, Ty jumped and pointed out ahead of them. "Look! The club!"

Shane couldn't help it; she laughed at the man's excitement, not only because it mirrored her own. Ignoring the rest of the group, Ty and Shane sped up to walk side by side, passing by the front door and turning around the side of the building to the staff entrance. Without any preamble, Ty shouldered the grimy door open and crept inside.

Shane followed, suddenly anxious. Nothing good could come of this. A shudder racked her body, and every nerve tingled with anticipation of pain.

"Oh, crap," somebody muttered. Shane knew why. As soon as the door had been shut, the sounds of shattering glass and drunken shouting could be heard coming from the dance floor. In such an enclosed space, the echoes were magnified ten times to what they should be. "He ain't happy."

Shane glanced around to see it had been Odie speaking. For once, they shared a grimace and a shrug - the most companionable interaction they'd ever experienced.

"I suppose that would be my fault," Shane said dryly. Her head was spinning - she was sure she wouldn't get through the night unscathed. "I almost wish I'd stayed behind." In her heart, though, she knew that wasn't true. No matter how violent their relationship was, Shane had felt safe from outside persecution when she was in the care of The Clown Prince of Crime.

There was an abrupt change in mood amongst the ten travelers. They were all scratching their heads and shuffling their feet nervously. Will spoke up over the clamor.

"I think I'll take Cliff and Stone upstairs to rest - they need to sleep in order to get better." Stone and Cliff nodded furiously, both remembering to cough fiercely at the same moment. Will grabbed them both under the elbows and hauled them upstairs.

Odie and Ty - who was no longer so chipper - both cleared their throats and agreed that rest was the best option for all of them before they, too, rushed up the staircase and out of sight. Ronnie stammered something about informing the guards of their return and practically ran out the door.

Shane, Daemyn, Max, and Ricky remained standing in the hallway. Shane noticed their grim expressions, and sighed. She didn't know what was coming, but she'd rather get it over with as quickly as possible.

There was a split second hesitation, and then they all stepped forward under the wooden archway and into the bar.

The Joker was on the dance floor, raging and screaming. Nobody else was in the room. Shane took another step forward, away from the other three, and her jaw dropped as she witnessed the man's insanity.

The entire room was littered with broken shards of glass, sparkling in the half-light, dripping with rum and vodka. Everything stank of alcohol. The Joker himself was storming around randomly, a bottle of whiskey clutched in one bare hand, the other curled into a bloody fist. His jacket was lying on the floor near where Shane stood, and the rest of the clothes he wore were torn and ratty. He was alternately pouring drinks down his gullet and hurling half-empty bottles at the walls. Just as soon as the whiskey bottle was out of his hand, its' contents dribbling down The Joker's chin, he had picked up a clear bottle of vodka and started downing that as he roared around the room.

On one of his circuits of the floor, his enraged gaze finally fell upon the four of them standing in the doorway. Everything seemed to freeze, then - The Joker stopped moving, all sound stopped, and Shane's own heart felt as if it had halted it's beating. She swallowed past the lump in her throat, watching The Joker's face carefully.

It was changing, melting as if under a high heat. The anger dripped away, as did the drunken lopsidedness to his mouth. His chest rose and fell more and more slowly under his stained blue shirt.

The bottle of vodka fell from his slackened grip, shattering against the shining silver floor.

"Get out," The Joker said roughly, jerking his head back at the doorway. "The three of you. Get out!"

Daemyn, Ricky, and Max didn't need telling twice. They turned and bolted from the room. Shane didn't look back to see them leave; she merely stood there, fearing for her life and how short it suddenly seemed.

The Joker stalked forward, his gait long and smooth, his entire body tilted to the side so he looked at her sidelong. Something in his eyes struck a livid fear into her heart.

"Joker," she said quietly, holding both of her hands up slowly, addressing him directly for the first time in her life. "Please -"

And that's when her own personal Hell exploded down upon her.