“Ten Things I Learned on My Road Trip with Dick”
Dick drove with one hand on the wheel, the other stuffing his face with a sandwich. “I have a bad feeling about this,” he mumbled.
Tim snorted. “Dude, that was said in every Star Wars movie.”
“Maybe because every time someone said that, there was a reason.”
“What could possibly be wrong
here?” Tim motioned out at the city, then took a sip of his coffee. “We’re in
“Did you seriously just say sick nasty?”
“Oh, right. I forgot about your generation. I meant groovy.”
“Maybe Bruce’s.”
“I don’t think he ever said groovy. Anyway—” Tim took a swig and finished his coffee. “—now I get it. While I love Tim Horton’s, like Alfred-needs-to-get-the-recipe-for-Tim’s-special-sauce like, the coffee sizes are so small. That is a problem.”
“That’s not why I’m getting the feeling. It’s so…dead, like everyone and everything is missing from the city.”
Tim plastered his cheek against
the window, his nose making marks like an anxious dog. Sure, the city was
pretty deserted at one A.M. at night, but even
“I dunno, Dick. I just think—LOOK OUT!”
The man dressed all in black flashed through Dick’s headlights, and he immediately slammed on the brake, his turkey sandwich losing his contents about the car. The tires halted their movement and screeched as the car still careened toward the man, and Dick wanted to close his eyes so he didn’t see himself kill another being. But he couldn’t.
Oh, God. Please…
And the man simply put out his hand.
Dick and Tim were jolted in their seats as their car seemingly hit the man’s palm. A dent folding about the car like it had hit a pole should have crunched the hood, yet only a small dent bent in the metal.
“Superman?” Dick whispered.
But this man wasn’t Superman. Not with his buzz cut and hard face. His clothing, too, appeared like an assassin’s—or Dog the Bounty Hunter’s.
“Get out of the car,” Dick said.
“What?” Tim asked.
The man pulled a bazooka from seemingly nowhere and pointed it at the hood.
“GET OUT!” Dick shrilled this time, grabbing Tim by the shoulder. With his opposite hand, he pulled open the door as the man fired.
But the car didn’t explode.
A lime green light ran over the car’s interior before he pocketed the bazooka once more.
He pocketed the bazooka.
“What the—” Tim started but stopped when Dick clasped his shoulder.
Dick knelt in front of Tim as the man turned toward them. “You are not my concern.”
With that, he marched off like his boots were made of rocks in search of someone who obviously was of his concern.
Dick let out a pent-up sigh and rose to his feet. “You okay?” He offered Tim his hand.
Tim took it. “Yeah, but who was that guy?”
“I think this is one of those times we just don’t question.”
2. When a
guy from no where suddenly shows up in the back of your car, just throw him out.
Still shocked, Dick rubbed his fingers over his stubble, adjusted the mirror, and yelped.
Tim immediately jerked and whirled to see what Dick saw—a boy in the back of their Ferrari with shockingly bright blonde hair and a cooler than average smile. He wore a (Red) T-shirt and Bermuda shorts. He couldn’t have been older than seven, and his nonchalant smile, masked with sheepish guilt, reminded Dick so much of Tim’s when he first met the boy at the circus.
“Hey guys,” the boy said smoothly. “Mind if I catch a ride?”
“As a matter of fact, we kinda do,” Dick advised.
The boy leaned forward as if to share a secret with Dick and Tim. “Look, that guy—you saw him, right? He’s bound to double back, and if we’re still here, they’ll be trouble for me and you.”
“Why us?” Tim asked. “He said we had no problems with us.”
“Yeah, well, I’m here now, and that’ll cause a problem for you.”
“Unless I kick you out of my car,” Dick affirmed.
The boy smiled easily. “It’s your father’s car, but let’s not go there, shall we, Richard Wayne? Or do you prefer Nightwing?”
Dick narrowed his eyes. He really didn’t like when people he didn’t know knew him and his former secret identity, but under the circumstances, he shifted the car into drive and put the pedal to the literal metal. Thankfully, the car obeyed.
Tim crossed his arms and sat back in his seat. “So, Know-It-All, where are we headed?”
“Out of the city for now.”
Dick nodded and turned accordingly. “Mind telling me how you know me despite the fact—”
“—that you and Timmy over there are supposedly dead? I have some powers that allow me to know certain things at certain times.”
“Like telepathy?” Tim snapped. “And by the way, it’s Tim, not ‘Timmy.’”
“No, and fine. Look, you noticed the city’s pretty vacant tonight?”
Dick smirked smugly at Tim, who stuck out his tongue. “So? What of it?”
“That’s because the War of the Sparx has come to yours.”
“Like in Transformers?”
“Sounds like a rock band to me,” Tim added.
When Dick glanced in the rearview mirror, the boy—now in his early twenties—slammed the heel of his palm to his forehead. “No. Sparx as in the original dwelling of my people, and it has become embroiled in a civil war. The king and queen are having one of their spats again, and those who are living in your plane are being hunted. The strongest of us are being killed outright for fear of our power. The less powerful are being captured and impressed into the armies.”
The Ferrari’s tires clicked onto
the elevated highway. “And all this is happening in
The man shrugged. “We go places in
this dwelling that are slightly more liberal than others. It’s the reason
Dick and Tim looked at each and shrugged as well. Yeah, that was true.
Though his head spun, Dick kept his cool. He’d been told a thousand stories like this before, and unfortunately, most were true. “Okay, so let’s say we believe your story. Just who lives in your plane?”
“Syrens.”
“Sirens?” Tim scoffed. “Like police sire—”
The man, in his forties, now leaned back in his seat. Somehow, his clothes still fit him. “Syrens are the some of the powerful beings in the universe. We essentially hold it together, fix it when need be, and hey, party like it’s 1999 occasionally. Most people can’t understand us, so they create their own ideas of us. Greek Gods. Roman Gods. King Arthur and His Knights. Some of our own even mated or gave their powers to others. Kryptonians first began as the product between a Syren and a humanoid being upon that planet. The New Gods, too.”
The tires clicked along the plates of the Pont Champlain. “So…why are you telling us this?” Tim asked, turning in his seat to see the now fifty year old.
The man sighed sadly. “My paladin is gone, and I must follow.”
“Paladin?” Dick echoed. This just weirder and weirder.
“Syrens are so powerful that when we live in a dwelling, we have to answer to those of that dwelling. We are subconsciously assigned to someone who, when we’re in our true forms, we must obey. They are our protectors and our lifelines.”
“Where is your paladin?” Tim demanded.
“That guy back there—big-ass head, matching big-ass gun? Can’t miss him— killed Nick.”
Dick glanced back at the man. “Who was that guy?”
“Raze.”
“Okay, but who is—”
A force suddenly slammed into the back of the Ferrari, and Dick fought to keep the car on the road. “Hang on!” he shouted as the car careened into a support on the bridge before flipping over. Dick fought against the wheels and brake trying his best to stop their movement, even though the pressure made his face feel like it was ready to explode. Something flipped down from his visor and smacked him in the head, and he closed his eyes and waited for the weightlessness to occur.
Instead, the car screeched to a stop in the middle of the highway.
Groaning, he touched the side of his head and growled at the sticky feeling. Blood. The cut must not have been too deep because he still saw only one steering wheel.
Oh, God.
TIM!
He shot a glance toward the boy at his side and let a relieved breath when Tim pushed his growing hair of his eyes. He looked in the back. The now elderly man wheezed and hacked, barely clutching onto life while hanging upside down.
“You all right?” Dick asked the guy.
Tim stared out the cracked windshield. “Dick.”
The man shook his head. “No, it’s—my mission is almost done.”
“Just hang in there, all right?”
“Dick.”
“We’re going to get you out of this.”
Jerking Dick’s sleeve, Tim tugged his brother’s attention toward him and pointed out the window. “We’ve got company!”
Slowly marching toward them, the big-ass headed man marched toward them in a determine stride, the bazooka over his shoulder.
Dick cursed under his breath and unclipped his seat belt, dropping to the hood. “We’ve gotta bail. Tim, get the packs!”
Ignoring the nervousness eating away at his stomach, Dick popped the trunk, then pushed out of the car. He flipped his seat and snatched the elderly man by the arm and yanked him alongside him, one hand wrapped around the man’s waist, the older holding the man’s own arm around Dick’s neck. Tim came to his side, one of Batman’s taser guns in his hands. Two duffles hung over his shoulders.
“Now what?”
“Run?” Dick suggested.
The man hacked and fought to wheeze. “You’ll never be able to outrun him.”
“I’ve never been one for giving up.” Dick still began as Tim followed, running backwards as best he could while watching Raze approach in his slow stride.
“S—Stop…” the man pleaded after only a few moments. “Please, stop…”
Dick slowed but didn’t stop completely. “We can’t. He’ll—”
“He’s after me,” the man hacked and when Dick finally stopped, was lowered to his knees, “and I’m dead anyway.”
“But you don’t have to be,” Tim disagreed. “We can fight—”
“The fight has been and always will be futile,” the man rasped, “and now that my paladin is gone, I shall follow.”
Dick knelt next to the man, a hand on upon his shoulder. “What are you talking about?”
The man, now his nineties, chose to smile. “I am the king and queen’s son, and if my power dies, the universe will die, and with it, all that you know. I cannot let that happen. As heroes, you cannot let that happen.”
Dick glanced back at the man. “What can we do about it?”
His grip was steel as he snatched Dick’s wrist and tugged the older brother within hearing distance. “I have sought long and hard, knowing my fate to end at his hand. As Nick lived for me, you live for him, and as you seek the answer, the answer seeks you. The darkness that has fallen shall rise and with it, the heart of a warrior.”
Tim blinked, even though his eyes remained trained upon the oncoming assassin. “First off, big-ass headed guy still on his way, and freaky prince say what?”
“Your bond will protect you for one moon cycle. After that, the call will be too much for him, and the distance will kill you. Seek Atlan. He will tell you the rest.”
4. Do not
look for more than one dead guy at a time.
“Look, we’re already seeking one dead guy. We don’t need to look for another—HEY!” Dick broke away from the man as a bright, jade light engulfed his body like the very center of a star. Around the edges, green flares licked the night sky, and Dick had to back up to save himself from its heat.
But he wasn’t the one it sought.
The man’s body disintegrated into dust, but the green flames before lurching forward.
“TIM!” Dick screamed, but his brother couldn’t avoid the flames.
The teen saw the fire leap toward him, and he backpedaled, but they still snagged him about the waist before swallowing his entire body. The packs’ cords burned off the boy’s body, and his taser gun dropped to the pavement, smoking though unused. Even Raze stopped to watch Tim burn before the flames died upon his skin. The boy looked down at his seemingly normal palms before meeting Dick with his tired, frightened eyes, now ablaze with green fire.
“Dick? I have a bad feeling about this.”
Then, his knees buckled underneath his body, and he sunk to the ground. He expelled everything he had eaten, even the Timbits.
Dick stared at his little brother, his heart beating out his chest, his mouth open enough to catch numerous large insects. The only thing that kept Dick from having a heart attack right then and there was the rise and fall of Tim’s chest. He had no idea just what happened to the boy, but for now, Tim was alive.
Raze had already begun to move again by the time Dick caught his bearings, and the older brother leapt over the shocked Tim to grab the stun gun and point it directly at Raze.
Except…
Except the assassin detoured to their turned-over car. Imbedding his fingers in the metal, he pulled the car hood to the left until the wheels once more touched the ground. Then, he turned and met the gun Dick held.
“Try it and die,” the older brother rasped.
Raze instead bowed, regally and formally. His face never severed from its serious countenance, but his eyes showed a compassion Dick didn’t see before.
“The passing of a Syren’s power is binding. He has a moon’s cycle to either relinquish this realm and become one with the Kismet Dwelling or he shall defy. Choose wisely, Paladin, for the answer you give changes the course of your history.”
With that, he once more turned back toward the city.
“Wait!” Dick called.
Raze stopped.
“Why do I have to choose wisely? He’s…He’s now the…” Oh, God. Tim couldn’t be. He just couldn’t be a…a Syren…could he?
Raze turned just slightly to observe Dick.
“You are his guardian, his protector, and more importantly, his conscience. What you decide, he will obey…and I will honor.”
They spoke no more as Raze headed back into the war zone, and Dick turned toward his brother. Tim was shaking, holding onto his own shoulders while staring at nothing in particular at the ground. His eyes slowly rose to meet Dick’s as the brother knelt at his side.
“Dick…Dick, what’d he do?”
Dick took a deep breath, not sure what to say. What could he? Finally, he decided for the truth. “I dunno, Tim, but we’re going to find out. Are you hurt?”
“N—No. Just…”
“—freaked out. Yeah, I know. Come on. Let’s get you some more coffee, maybe a few Timbits.”
As they made their way back to the car, Dick thought at least a cop would come and see what happened or dawn would break.
Neither came.
It was as if the world had stopped turning for the fight and now restarted.
Silence weighed heavily in the
car, even after Dick started it and they finally left the bridge. As
“A moon’s cycle?” he repeated.
Dick sighed as if expelling all of his fear. “Every twenty-eight days, there’s a new moon. My guess he’s counting time by that. So we have about a month to figure this whole thing out.”
“But—But what about Bruce?”
6. A
little brother is a big brother’s first priority.
Dick took his eyes off the road briefly to cup the side of Tim’s neck and smile encouragingly. “Let’s deal with one crisis at a time, all right? And right now, you have my full and probably unwanted attention, kiddo.”
“But we just can’t—”
“Tim.”
Like with Bruce, once Dick used that tone, Tim let the subject drop.
“And,” Dick added, “Bruce would want me to make sure you’re okay first.”
“But now what are we going to do? Atlan’s dead, right? So’s Arthur. What are going to—”
He knew it was against the law, but Dick seized his cell phone. He dialed the number he knew by heart and waited to hear the voice on the other end.
“Hey, this is the JLA secure line,” Red Arrow’s acerbic voice growled through the receiver. “You better have a damn good reason to be using it, or else I’m getting Supes on your ass so fast—”
“Harper, shove it for a moment, will you? I need you to get in contact with Garth. It’s an emergency.”
“…Dick? Y—You’re not—Oh, yousova—”
He never thought hearing his best friend’s voice would ever sound so good.
Fifteen minutes, Dick munched idly
on a cherry Timbit while Tim popped them into his mouth like they were going
out of style.
Only after they finished the box did Tim finally speak.
“Dick?”
“Yeah, kiddo?”
“What am I now?”
Dick wrapped an arm about Tim’s shoulder and shoved his half-eaten bit into Tim’s mouth. “You’re my brother. That’s all that matters.”
They stayed that way for a long time before they clicked back into their usual routine.
“How long until we reach
Tim reached for the glove compartment, only for it to drop open on its own. A glimmer of green slicked across his cheeks before he simply snatched the map. “About six hours if in compliance with speed limits. A little over three the way you drive—suicidal.”
Dick flashed an overly bright smile and stuffed a CD into the player. “For that, you’re getting Barry Manilow.”
“Hey, I just got turned into some weird being! I should at least get All American Rejects.”
“You got Tim Horton’s! What more do you want?”
9. When
in doubt—Green Day.
“Fine, let’s compromise. Green Day.”
“Done.”
Dick took one last sip of his coffee, shifted into drive, and tore up the road. The sun was still more than four hours away, but the darkness comforted them.
The darkness would always comfort them.
10. When
Dick says, “Let’s go on a road trip to find our lost father,” tell him to shove
it. There has to be a better way.
The End