At that moment, the Joker appeared on the computer screens. “What does it take to make you people want to join in the fun?” the Joker asked. “I’ve got to get you off the bench and into the game. So here it is.” His face moved closer to the camera lens. “Come nightfall, this city is mine, and anyone left here plays by my rules. If you don’t want to be in the game, get out now.”
There were very few ways out of Gotham City. Most people would have to leave by bridges and tunnels. With a sinister laugh, the Joker added, “But the bridge-and-tunnel crowd are in for a surprise.” His image faded to static.
With no other options, Fox turned to Batman. “I’ll help you this one time.”
They agreed that after Batman stopped the Joker, the tracking machine would be destroyed.
TWENTY-TWO
Gothamites were pouring into the streets, anxious to leave, but getting out was complicated. Because of the Joker’s threats, the bridges and tunnels were deserted while the bomb squads searched them inch by inch.
Thirty thousand people arrived for eight hundred ferry seats. Commissioner Gordon suggested that the ferries be divided: one for the prisoners from Gotham’s jails and one for civilians. Once everyone was loaded, the National Guard told both boats to leave the dock.
Shortly after they moved out, both ferries lost power. They sat dark and unmoving in the water.
When the pilot on the prisoner ferry went to the engine room, he discovered a bomb. And a remote control.
The captain of the civilian ferry also found a bomb and a remote.
The Joker’s voice rang out through speakers on both boats.
“Tonight, you’re all going to be part of a social experiment,” the Joker announced. “Each of you has a remote to destroy the other ferry. At midnight, I’ll destroy all of you. If, however, one of you presses the button before then, I’ll let that boat live. You choose.” He paused a beat. “Oh, and you might want to decide quickly, because the people on the other boat might not be so noble.”
With a laugh, the Joker clicked off the line.
Batman was sitting atop an elevated roadway overlooking Gotham City while Fox monitored the tracker.
In the distance, Batman could see the ferries.
“Fox?” He needed immediate information. “There is something going on with the ferries.”
“I’m zeroing in.” Fox gave directions as Batman fired up his engine. “Head west.”
The Joker was holed up in an apartment tower.
Batman caught up with Gordon on the rooftop of a building across the street from the Joker. Gordon’s SWAT leaders had already set up sniper and scope positions. On the penthouse level, Gordon could see the Joker’s men.
“We have clear shots on the five clowns. Snipers can take them out, smash the windows,” a SWAT leader explained to Gordon. “Then a team rappels in, and another team moves by the stairwells.” He indicated on a blueprint map exactly where the stairwells were located. “There will be two or three casualties, max.”
Commissioner Gordon didn’t hesitate. “Let’s do it!”
Batman looked out over the side of the rooftop at the building. “It’s not that simple. With the Joker it never is. There’s always a catch with him.” Batman didn’t want Gordon to act impulsively. “I need five minutes. Alone.” He needed to get himself into the Joker’s mind. To figure out . . .
“No.” Gordon moved away. “There’s no time. We have clear shots now.” The SWAT team took aim. “Dent disappeared from the hospital. I think that Dent’s in there. We have to save Dent! I have to save Dent!” Gordon turned to his SWAT team leader. “Get ready.”
Undeterred by the SWAT team’s weapons, Batman leaped in front of them, soaring off the rooftop, opening his cape as he spanned the gulf between the two buildings.
With an exasperated sigh, Gordon told the SWAT team to stand down for two minutes.
Batman was going to face the Joker.
Swoosh!
Batman softly landed against the glass exterior of the building. He took out a canister and sprayed a thin sheet of plastic onto the glass. It hardened instantly.
Crack!
The window silently shattered.
After fighting through the Joker’s henchmen, Batman found his primary target.
“You came,” the Joker said, turning away from the window as Batman entered the room. He’d been expecting Batman to arrive. “I’m touched.” With a whistle and a casual wave of his hand, the Joker called his dogs.
A pack of beasts leaped on Batman, smashing him to the ground.
Batman fought valiantly, rolling over and over as he shook off each dog. Embroiled in battle, Batman never saw Joker’s attack coming. From the tip of his clown shoe, a switchblade popped out. Just as Batman tossed off the last of the dogs, Joker kicked his blade into the vulnerable place in Batman’s armor. “All the old familiar places,” the Joker mocked, reminding Batman of their meeting in Wayne’s penthouse, when he’d first discovered that Batman had this weak spot.
Batman recoiled in pain. Angry, evil energy filled the room, and the Joker’s attacks became more and more aggressive. With each kick, Batman rolled closer to the glass window and a death drop to the street below.
Crack!
The Joker flung Batman into the glass window. The window’s steel frame broke loose. Flinging his arms over his head, Batman protected himself.
Batman grunted as he struggled to hold up the steel beam while shards of broken glass rained down around him.
“If we don’t stop fighting, we’re going to miss the fireworks,” the Joker remarked, casually stepping onto the steel beam that Batman was supporting with his forearms. “Here we go . . .”
“There won’t be any fireworks,” Batman groaned, struggling to keep the beam from crushing his neck. It was midnight. The ferries were both silent. “What were you hoping to prove? That deep down we’re all as ugly as you?”
The Joker looked at the clock on the penthouse wall. Disappointment showed on his face.
“You’re alone,” Batman told him, with gasping breaths. By refusing to set off the ferry explosions themselves, the citizens of Gotham had proved they wouldn’t succumb to pressure.
The Joker bent low over Batman and showed him the dual remote. “Can’t really rely on anyone these days.” The Joker was ready to destroy both ferries. “You have to do everything yourself.” A victorious smile spread across the Joker’s face. “You know how I got these scars?”
Batman was still pinned under the steel beam. He looked up and said, “No.” He’d found a way out from under the beam. “But I know how you got this one.” Scalloped blades fired out of Batman’s gauntlet, nailing the Joker in the chest and arm. Batman managed to grab the remote control as the clown staggered back, slipping off the steel beam and falling toward the street.
Batman fired his grapnel hook at the Joker’s leg.
“Augh!” the Joker screamed as he snapped to a stop. Batman hauled him up, back into the shattered building.
“Just couldn’t let go of me, could you?” Joker asked with a wink.
“You’ll be in a padded cell. Forever,” Batman said, shaking his head.
“Just wait,” the Joker bragged, “until they find out what I did with the best of them. Until they get a good look at the real Harvey Dent, and all the heroic things he’s done.” The Joker had one more game to play.
Batman hauled the Joker up so they were nose to nose. “What did you do?”
The Joker chuckled, saying, “I took Gotham’s white knight. And I brought him down to my level. It wasn’t hard—madness is like gravity. All it needs is a little push.”
The Joker began to laugh heartily.
Batman turned the Joker over to SWAT and immediately called Gordon.
Strange . . . Gordon didn’t answer his phone. When Batman called, Gordon always answered his phone.
Batman drew his cape around himself. The night was not over yet.
TWENTY-THREE
Commissioner Gordon didn’t see Batman’s final battle with the Joker. Harvey Dent had called to say he was on Fifty-second Boulevard, in a burned-out warehouse. He wanted Gordon to meet him there. Gordon was relieved that Dent was alive, and since Batman was taking care of the Joker, he hurried away.
At the warehouse, Gordon felt danger. He removed his gun from its holster and slowly made his way into the shell of the building.
“Dent?” Gordon called out. He moved to the staircase and climbed to the second floor.
There he found Barbara, huddled together with their son and daughter. He moved toward them.
Wham!
Dent cracked Gordon over the head with his gun. Gordon slumped to the floor, while Dent took his weapon and grabbed his son.
“This is where they brought her, Gordon,” Dent told the commissioner.
“I know. I was here, trying to save her.” It had been a devastating night.
Dent turned to Gordon, with only his hideous, dark side showing. “But you didn’t save her, did you?”
“You’re right; it’s my fault Rachel died. Punish me instead.”
When Dent made no sign of setting the boy free, a deep voice called out from the shadows.
“Wait.” Batman stepped in, closing the gap between Dent and himself. “Gordon’s not the only one to blame. What about me? I’m the one who chose the other address.”
Dent considered Batman’s words.
“Fair enough,” he said. “You first.” He quickly flipped his coin, checked the result, and then shot Batman in the stomach. Batman collapsed onto the floor.
Then Dent turned to Commissioner Gordon. “Your turn, Gordon.” He tossed his coin up to determine the commissioner’s fate.
While Dent’s eyes followed the coin, Batman peeled himself off the floor and hurled himself toward Dent. They vanished down into a hole in the floor. There was a terrible crash, followed by a deafening silence. The only sound in the warehouse was that of Dent’s coin spinning on the wooden floor.
Dent was lying at the bottom of the pit, his neck broken.
Batman suddenly appeared, swinging from his grapnel hook.
“Thank you,” Gordon said.
“You don’t have to thank me,” Batman replied.
“Yes, I do,” Gordon replied.
In the basement of the warehouse, Batman and Gordon stood over Dent’s broken body. “The Joker won,” Gordon remarked. “He took the best of us and tore him down. People will lose hope.” Gordon took a closer look at Dent’s scarred face.
Batman reached down and turned Dent’s face to show the pristine, good side. “They won’t.” He looked up at Gordon.
Batman sighed and stood tall next to Gordon. “No. The Joker cannot win. Gotham needs its true hero.”
Gordon understood. Batman was going to take the blame for what Dent had done to avenge Rachel. “You? You can’t—”
“Yes. I can. You either die a hero or live long enough to see yourself become the villain.” Batman handed Gordon his police radio. He wanted Gordon to call his troops.
“They’ll hunt you.”
Batman smiled. “You’ll hunt me.”
As Batman ran off into the night, the sound of sirens followed him.
“Why are they chasing him?” young James Gordon asked his father.
“Because . . .” Commissioner Gordon wanted to get the words just right. “He’s the hero Gotham deserves, but not the one it needs right now. So we’ll hunt him, because he can take it. Because he’s not our hero. He’s a silent guardian, a watchful protector . . . a dark knight.”
Photo Insert
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THE DARK KNIGHT LEGEND: JUNIOR NOVEL. Copyright © 2012 DC Comics.
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The Dark Knight Legend Page 7
