Thunder rolled loud and long across the skies of Star City, welcoming the first cold rain of the fall season. A young woman crossed the streets of the Fashion District, occasionally looking behind her as she moved at a briskly toward her destination. Her long blond hair was matted from the downpour; her mascara ran down her face, not just from the rain, but from fearful tears as well.
She hesitated, considering which way to go, but it was a moment of hesitation that was about to cost her; the six young gang members had finally chased down their prey for the night.
“Please... please... don’t,” she began to beg, backing up slowly. her lips quivered, her nose dripped, the mascara left dark rivers of sludge down her cheeks.
The young men laughed at her, called her names, made kissing noises as they grabbed themselves and went into details about the fun they were going to have with her. They stalked her, moving slowly, toying with her as a carnivore would his supper. The tallest one, a young man no older than nineteen, took the first step forward. He held a switchblade in his right hand and reached out to her with his left; laughing as she began to scream in terror.
In less than a second, the scream turned around as the girl saw an arrow plunge into her attacker's right hand. She stopped her scream as he began instead, his a cry of pain.
The other members took a step back as they watched their leader clutch his wrist, his face turned to them, grotesquely contorted with pain and anger.
A second arrow went sailing down into the gang, embedded in a small wooden pallet that one of them had been standing on. It vibrated for a second between the feet of the punk, who stared down at it as if it were about to explode.
“Aw, damn! It’s Green Arrow, he’s back!” shouted a third one, the shortest of the posse, before taking off down the street.
He didn’t get far as the others heard the swishing sound of the arrow as it flew past them, headed right for their friend. they would later recount how the tip of the arrow suddenly exploded outward and a small bolo continued sailing toward the runner. It wrapped itself around the kid’s head, knocking him to the ground as the two metal balls both struck him between the eyes.
“Come out and fight like a man!” another one shouted, a large gun drawn out of the back of his pants.
He took a step forward, scanning the buildings above him for any movement in the shadows. All of them had been studying Green Arrow’s M.O. for a while now. They knew that he liked to attack from a distance. It was why Tripp had gone to carrying a gun. It was also why they had all began to work out more, with the idea that if confronted by Star City’s main protector, they could get him up close. It seemed to them as if it were possibly his Achilles Heel.
When he stepped in front of an archway to a side door, a brown boot shot out from the shadow, a blow to Tripp's arm that knocked the gun out of his hand. He turned in time to see a gloved fist coming at him for a quick second, until he spun a complete one – eighty and fell to the ground unconscious.
This caused the others to turn, their guns coming out as well. Several shots were fired in the direction of the alcove, but all they were left with was the echo of their own bullets against the brick wall or metal door.
“I find it interesting that you would call me out to fight like a man when all of you find such perverse pleasure in attacking a young lady?”
They all turned at the sound of the voice. Walking out from the darkness behind them was a young blond man, his skin a light brown, his uniform both familiar and not at the same time.
“Who the hell are you?” demanded the one on the pallet as he stepped down, his gun trained on the masked man’s head. “Cause you sure in $%#@ ain’t no Green Arrow.”
Connor Hawke scratched the top of his head, his bow no where to be seen. “At the moment, actually, I am. Or at least you can call me that, for the time being.”
The four remaining gang members laughed at the ridiculous man-child in front of them. “Let him have it, guys.” The one aiming the gun at this head said coldly and the bullets began to ring out.
Even the fastest finger on the trigger was no match for the speed and agility that the new Green Arrow brought to the one-sided battle. He moved with the grace of a highly-trained figure skater; his body leaped above them, twisting as the bullets whizzed harmlessly by him.
He came down hard on the one closest to him, striking him in the jaw with his boot, before landing on the ground where he went seamlessly into a somersault that put him right into the middle of the final three. Their reaction time was too slow as the new Green Arrow pushed himself up, struck the first one with only one finger, near the right shoulder; the kid cried out in pain as his left arm went numb and he dropped his weapon.
Connor's other hand lashed out at the second of the three gang members; hitting him hard in between the rib cage. The thug went down immediately, gasping for breath.
The final member was able to fire one shot that went wild as Connor grabbed his arm, pushing it into the air. He then pulled the kid into him, and drove his left leg into the thug's stomach. He heard the air leave the punk as he jumped into the air, spinning himself around while pulling back on the guy's arm and landed another blow with his other foot on the back of the kid’s head. The battered kid fell to the pavement with a dull thud.
Green Arrow looked around to find the woman who had been chased, huddled near a lamp post, shaking. When he took a step forward, she cried out and stumbled away from him.
“No, please, just leave me alone.”
Confused, Connor held out his hand. “I just wanted to make sure you were alright. I’m not here to harm you.” He motioned to the gang sprawled along the sidewalk. “I’m one of the good guys.”
She shook her head as she continued to move backward. “If you wear a mask, you’re just as dangerous to me as they are.” She considered her statement for a moment as the two of them stood in the downpour. “Worse, even,” she said before running down the street away from him.
He watched her take off, wondering if he should follow. She was more than a damsel in distress. She was a mystery that just stepped out of the stormy night and into his life. A new life that he was still adjusting too. Not for the first time he asked himself what Ollie would do. The answer was almost immediate, so he grabbed his bow, shot an arrow towards the roof, climbed the rope it was attached to, and began to leap across the buildings as he sought out the woman he had just saved.
*******
Streaks of blood still ran down the side of the walls as the crime boss called Brick walked through the narrow hallway of one of his many housing units on the lower east side of the city.
His men stayed behind him, several steps behind him as they knew he was simmering – about to blow at any moment.
Brick examined the scene carefully. Every last member of the East Side Devils had been snuffed out. Bodies littered the floors of both hallways and rooms in the abandoned house. Though from the outside it appeared to be nothing more than another boarded up, broken down, dilapidated building in a neighborhood full of them, this particular shack was very important to him. This was where he had raised his first gang; earned his first real sum of money. This place had been the beginning of his drug trafficking as well as his first foray into the field of 'adult escort servicing'.
Up until last night, it was still running like a well-oiled machine. But now somebody had eliminated this part of his rapidly growing empire. Somebody was not only announcing their presence, but their intentions as well.
Brickwell turned to the men behind him. They all stopped quickly, the ones in the back nearly walking into the others. “Scour the area and find me someone who may have seen something... anything. There is no way something like this goes down without someone noticing.”
They all noddedas they turned back to the staircase. Not one of them was upset about leaving the massacre, or their boss, at the moment. After they had departed, Brick continued examining what he considered to be his “boys”. Many of them had been with him since the beginning of his rise to power. He had promised them the world, and for three of his closest friends, he had nearly given it to them. They had stayed behind to run this particular branch of his organization, and had been well-rewarded for it.
Stepping across two bodies that he did not recognize, he entered the farthest room on the second floor – the office. Lying in front of the large mahogany desk was his childhood buddy... his 'bro'. The semi-automatic was still clutched in his hands, the blood that soaked his Oakland Raiders sweatshirt still warm and sticky.
Brick knelt down, belying his girth in the way he touched his friend’s cheek. He was not a man who frightened easily, but when Jamal’s eyes snapped open, he stumbled backward with a small yelp, his butt hitting the hard floor with a thud.
Jamal coughed, blood flying from his mouth as he gasped for air. His eyes focused upon his life-long friend. “Danny... oh crap... hit us hard... didn’t see it... coming...”
The crime boss crawled over to his friend, pulling him into his chest with his large hands. “Don’t talk, bra. Save your strength.”
“Don’t... don’t start crap. Gotta tell you... mob boss... big time... new in town.”
“Who? What’s his name, 'cause I’m going to bring his world crashing down on top of him,” Brick promised as he cradled his best friend's bleeding body.
“Scarapelli... OH GOD!” He cried out in pain, his body twisted in several spasms before he lay still.
With no one around, Daniel Brickwell lay his closest friend down on the floor, closing the eyes and gently kissing his forehead. “Rest, bro. Scarapelli is a dead man, I swear it.”
*******
The arrow struck the bulls-eye with such force that half the shaft became buried in the drywall behind the make-shift target. Mia Dearden gave herself a small cheer as she examined her handy work. It was dead center. She would save it for Connor to see; though she tried to convince herself it was for bragging purposes only, she conceded to herself that there was a small part of her that wanted him to be proud of the accomplishment. A small part.
She set the bow down, walked to the small kitchen in the dingy apartment that was still being rented by Ollie, and still being used by her and Connor, and poured a large glass of orange juice. Sitting down at the kitchen table she examined the chemistry book that still lay open where she had left it an hour ago. She decided she disliked chemistry... actually she hated it. Why did she have to learn that garbage anyway? High school sucked. She wouldn’t have enrolled if it hadn’t been for Connor’s gentle approach of psychological blackmail.
“Everyone chooses their road,” he told her at the end of the summer. “I’m sure whichever path you choose will be the right one. The one that would have made your father proud.” Yeah, what choice did she really have after that?
Staring at the open book, drinking down the rest of her juice, Mia suddenly felt as though she had been cooped up in the small apartment for too long. She grabbed her black, hooded jacket, opened up the window in the living room area, and climbed down the fire escape. She knew she was breaking one of the few rules that Connor had set in place (and even then he didn’t set it as much as he gently suggested it in a way that made her actually think it was a good idea), but she couldn’t stay in that cramped living area a minute more. And she definitely wasn’t going to fall asleep while alone anymore.
Five nights in a row she had woken up to see the image of her father standing on the other side of her bedroom. She wanted to tell Connor in the worse way, but she was afraid. What if she was losing her mind? What would he do? He had enough on his plate at the moment, what with taking over for his father in both businesses. He didn’t need to know that his roommate was seeing dead people. Bruce Willis he wasn’t.
Jumping off the second floor landing, she did a mid-air twirl, focused on everything Connor had taught her. She had prepared her legs for the pavement below, and still, she hit harder then she would have liked and for a second she felt a sharp pain shoot up her left ankle. She grunted as the pain took hold of her for only a second before it began to subside. Cursing under her breath she berated herself for such a stupid move.
“Walk it off, blondie,” she spoke to herself out loud as she hobbled on it for a few minutes before the ankle began to support her weight again. With a slight limp she took off down the city street, mingling into the crowd of night dwellers who roamed Star City after dark.
She couldn’t help herself, she felt more alive at night than she ever did during the day. At first, she though it was because of the company she kept, but looking back, she had to admit to herself that she had always been this way. When darkness fell, there was a part of her that awoke.
For a while she wandered aimlessly, letting fate take her where it would. Eventually she found herself in Star City’s theater district. Though not as big or glitzy as, say, New York City, or Metropolis, it did have a night life and charm all its own.
“Hey girlie, you’re out kind of late, aint'cha?” A gruff voice called to her from the other side of the street.
Mia turned to see one of Star City's finest strolling across the four lanes of pavement, in her direction. For the second time in less than an hour, she cursed at herself. She knew there was a curfew for anyone under seventeen, why hadn’t she been paying more attention?
“Just heading home from the show, officer,” she explained as he walked up to her.
Immediately, she didn’t like the man in blue. He was tall, unshaven, and smelled like stale beer. His bloodshot eyes were examining her the same way that the men who had once sold had done.
“Oh yeah, which show might that be?” His voice was abundantly condescending. “‘Annie’ hasn’t been around here in a couple of years, and I’m guessing you ain’t in the revival of ‘Dream Girls’.”
“Nope, but my mom is... well, adoptive mom. I just missed her though, so I was just heading home before she freaks out on me.” She was amazed at how easily the lie tumbled from her mouth. She chalked it up to the years she had spent dodging the ugly old men that had bought her.
The officer studied her face for a moment, his eyes still roaming over her. For an uncomfortable second, she wondered if he might have x-ray vision. Finally his lips pursed before he spoke. “Yeah, well, you’re still breaking curfew. I think maybe I oughtta run ya in.”
Mia started to get a little nervous. “Really, officer, I swear I’m going right home. I’m sorry about breaking curfew, won’t happen again.”
“Walk with me,” he demanded suddenly as he grabbed her arm and started to walk her away from the busy streets, towards a more secluded area behind two of the theaters.
Her mind worked quickly to figure a way out of the situation. He wanted more than to just take her back home – that she knew too well. A man with a badge and an underage juvenile who was walking the streets; it was a perfect scenario that she knew would end very easily with the words:
“I didn’t touch her. I busted her for breaking curfew and she’s just trying to start trouble.” His grip was tight on her arm, but Mia knew if she waited long enough he would have to relax it at some point, then she would try to make a break for it. If that didn’t work... she was actually preparing herself to use some of the offensive moves Connor had been teaching her; though she really didn’t want it to come to that.
They were just about to enter the darkest part of the area when a woman’s voice came calling to them. “Honey! Sweetheart! There you are.”
They both turned to see a woman in her late thirties running towards them. She wore a cheap looking dress, her hair was large and ratted, and Mia couldn’t help but notice how largely round her earrings was. It was apparent to her, and probably to the cop as well, just what this woman did for a living.
“Who the hell are you, lady?” the cop asked.
“I’m her mamma, and right now she’s going about to get the whippin’ of her life.”
Mia felt the hand loosen a bit, but the officer still held on to her. “
You’re her mother?” he asked dubiously.
The African-American woman stopped short, putting her hands on her hip. “Yeah!” she said, defiantly.
“What’s your name?” he demanded, still holding on to Mia.
“Desiree Johnson... what’s yours?”
It was obvious that her attitude towards him was making him angry. He replied stiffly, “You can call me Officer Swinkey.”
“Really?” she asked, arching an eyebrow. “'Cause from down wind I would a thought your name was Jim Beam.”
Mia actually flinched as the cop’s hand suddenly tightened for a second, but then relaxed just as quickly. She felt herself being shoved towards the street walker.
“I suggest you put your kid to bed before you go to work,” he growled as he stormed off.
After he had rounded the corner, Desiree turned to the young woman. “What the hell are you thinking, child? Walking these streets so late, by yourself? It ain’t safe for a woman of my age, let alone a little girl.”
Now it was Mia’s turn to get angry. “I’m not a little girl, sister,” she retorted. “I bet you I’ve seen more in my fifteen years than you have in your looong lifetime.”
Desiree’s head cocked to the side as her eyebrow shot up again. Then a smile began to play at the edge of her lips, but her eyes remained intense. “You get yourself home. And remember, little one, you can’t trust nobody out here. Most of us ain’t what we seem to be.”
Mia wanted to say something about the “little one” comment in the worst way, but she bit her tongue. She had already gotten out of one tight situation, and truth me told, she did owe the hooker for saving her.
“Fine,” she said. “Thanks for helping me out.” She mumbled as she walked away. When she got several yards she turned around to see Desiree was still watching her. “Geez lady, you ain’t my mother.” She said to herself as she continued back to the apartment.
*******
The newly-appointed Green Arrow followed the woman he had just saved for several blocks, until she turned into a gray sandstone building. He crouched along the edge of the roof from across the street, watching her walk through the front door with a glance back only once to make sure she hadn’t been followed.
Connor still wasn’t sure why he
was following her; it was nothing more than an instinct. She had been just as scared of him as she was the gang that had been chasing her down and he wanted to know why.
After several seconds he saw lights come on in the top floor. The shades were pulled back some, but still blocked most of his line of sight. When he saw her pass by the front window she was slipping off her blouse. Connor jerked his head away, losing his balance and for a second he pin-wheeled on the edge of the roof. Regaining his footing, he felt the heat rise in his neck; though he wasn’t sure what was more embarrassing at the moment.
Deciding that he had just went from a curious fledgling hero to a perpetrator of a class one felony, he chose to leave. Movement from the front of the building, though, caught his eye and he once again crouched down. He observed a rather tall police officer heading into the building with an old beat up brief case. That felt a bit out of place, he felt.
Daring to take another glance, he looked across at the blond woman’s apartment and was only mildly surprised to see her escorting the officer into her living room. They disappeared to the right of the curtain.
As he waited, he glimpsed another figure standing on the street below, just out of reach of the lamp light on the front of the building. It was a dark-skinned, dark-haired woman. She smoked a cigarette while watching the front door of the apartment building. Green Arrow realized he was definitely on to something.
He turned his attention back to the window just as he saw the body of the young woman fly across the living room; the large cop followed close behind. The officer’s body language told Connor in no uncertain terms that his guy was on a rampage.
Connor swung his bow around, fired an arrow at the roof of the sandstone building, the hook catching solidly onto the corner bricks. He sling his bow across his shoulder, grabbed the rope and swung toward the window.
From the street below, the street walker known as Desiree was startled to see the green-and-brown-suited masked man, appear from no where and go crashing into the window of the top-most apartment.
She was more than startled when three seconds after the mysterious blond man had smashed his way in, the entire top floor and roof exploded outward. Pieces of concrete, brick, and chunks of burning wood rained onto the street where she stood.
Desiree ducked behind a parked car as debris continued to crash down. She jumped once at the sound of the car's windshield cracked, as something heavy smacked agaisnt it.
When the smallest of pebbles finished spraying onto the concrete, she stood up, her mouth agape at the destruction of the apartment complex – a fire still raging out of control. Then she smelt it, that horrible stench that she recognized. She looked down and directly in front of her.
Lying on the windshield of the parked car was the remains of a charred body. Next to it was the remnants of what she could barely make out as a bow.
To Be Continued?[/i]
