The cold night air hit Bruce as he burst out onto the roof. Smoke poured out behind him. For an instant, the space was empty, almost desolate—were it not for the flashing lights coming from the street below, and the shouts of police. Somewhere in the distance came the sound of an approaching helicopter. Bruce turned in a quick circle. Where had they gone?
“You’re dead.”
Cameron’s voice came from behind him. An instant later, Bruce felt an arm lock tightly around his neck right beneath his helmet, both skin and metal pressing hard against his throat. He gasped, fighting for air. One arm rocketed back as he tried to strike Cameron’s face with his elbow, but Cameron tightened his grip, choking off more air.
A click. Through the haze, Bruce saw a gun pointed straight at him. At the other end of it was Madeleine, her face grim and determined.
“What are you waiting for?” Cameron growled behind Bruce. “Shoot him. We don’t have time to stick around.”
Madeleine’s dark eyes met Bruce’s. He saw her fingers tighten around the gun. “Madeleine,” Bruce managed to choke out.
She shifted the gun slightly—so that it pointed at Cameron. “He’s not our enemy, Cam,” she said calmly. The sound of a helicopter grew louder. “Let him go.”
“What?”Cameron’s voice turned incredulous. “He just ruined our whole operation! He just—”
“He ruinedyouroperation,” Madeleine interrupted. “My mission was always to seek justice. Bruce Wayne is not corrupt. He is not the person who killed our mother, who cheated you of your treatments when you were dying. And killing him is not justice. Let him go, Cam.”
“Traitor,”Cameron sneered, even as Bruce felt the strength in his arm waver. “What happened to you, sis?”
At that, Madeleine narrowed her eyes in anger. “We don’t have time,” she said. And as if to emphasize her point, the glare of a helicopter’s spotlight quavered between the buildings beyond the concert hall, sweeping its way toward them.
Cameron loosened his grip and shoved Bruce forward into Madeleine, who lost her balance. In a blind rage, Cameron lunged at her and yanked the gun from her grasp. He swung it toward Bruce and fired.
He missed.
Bruce felt Madeleine shudder once, violently, against him.She was hit.
He choked out a hoarse cry. The scene before him went scarlet as every ounce of fury and adrenaline rushed from his head to his limbs. He threw himself at Cameron.
Cameron hit Bruce hard in his side—he collapsed down onto one knee, gasping, and a split second later, another fist came out of the darkness toward him. Even with his helmet’s protection, Cameron’s metal joints struck him so hard that his head rocketed backward. Everything blurred. Rough hands grabbed him by the collar and dragged him across the roof as he kicked. His instincts flared up.He’s going to throw me off the roof.
In one move, Bruce reached up and seized both of Cameron’s wrists. He twisted around, then yanked Cameron forward as hard as he could. Cameron staggered and lost his balance. Behind them stood the concrete walls around the stairwell door.Strike now. Don’t hold back.Bruce let out a wrenching yell as he swung at Cameron’s head.
The blow landed perfectly. Cameron slammed into the concrete wall. His limbs sagged, and he collapsed. As Bruce stood there, gasping, the light of an approaching helicopter illuminated his silhouette.The police are coming. I have to get out of here.
He whirled back to see Madeleine stumbling toward her brother. Her hands were pressed to her stomach, and pain had turned her as white as winter. A rush of wind hit them as the helicopter neared. For the first time, he saw a hint of real fear in her eyes.No.He ran toward her.
Behind them, a loudspeaker blared from the helicopter. “Hands up! We will shoot! I repeat—wewillshoot!” Squinting, Bruce saw the glint of metal—a rifle—from a military helicopter’s open doors. The sound of blades chopping through the air was deafening. The soldier holding the rifle took aim. Bruce’s eyes widened.
Sparks lit up the ground near them. Bruce grabbed Madeleine’s hand and started to run with her for the safety of the concrete wall. Madeleine resisted for an instant, her boots still turning toward her brother in an attempt to defend him, but her movements were weak, unsteady. Bruce was about to shout something at her, when he saw her eyes widen in shock.
Cameron was throwing up his arms in surrender. And he was pointing a finger inMadeleine’sdirection.
He was telling the police to targetherfirst. His own sister. To save himself.
Madeleine only had time to look up at the helicopter. The rifle shifted toward her.
No, not her.
Everything seemed to happen in a slow series of snapshots. Bruce let out a hoarse scream and reached for her, pulling them both behind the concrete wall to safety.
“Drop your weapons!” voices shouted at Cameron from the helicopter. Then the sound of shots fired.
Bruce lowered Madeleine carefully to the ground. Over his shoulder, he saw Cameron’s body crumpled against the ledge. Blood pooled underneath him. The police had not been distracted for long.
Bruce turned back to Madeleine. Blood blossomed across her shirt, and she struggled for air in his arms.No.He pulled off his helmet so that he could see her face without the barrier of glass that always seemed to separate them. “They’re going to take you to the hospital, Madeleine. You hear me? You’re going to be okay.”
Tears left trails down the sides of her face. She trembled uncontrollably, but her eyes—deep, dark, endless—stayed fixed on Bruce.
