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"Clean shot in the head." Zach rounded the newfound corpse tied onto a post. Their once triumphant foe had lost his light ( pun intended ). Jason's tracker had guided them towards this body. They did not know how to feel about this discovery. "Fuck, look at his stupid helmet. The bullet went perfectly through the metal, too. Whoever killed him─"
"─has to be more dangerous than him." Artemisia moved beside her friend, attending the dented helmet he had mentioned. She felt terrorized. "We limped out of that stadium."
Dawn joined the duo, staring at Doctor Light's shattered skull. A loud gulp filled the air. "Maybe it was luck."
"No, this isn't luck." Zach carefully grabbed the man's wirework, stirring his pale face towards him. Blood blotched his hand as he analyzed the victim a second time. There wasn't much to see: a crack in his head, threads binding his face and body, and the puddle of blood under his feet. He let go of the corpse, its head plummeting back into place. An object the size of a pea dropped to the ground. "What the fuck?"
Dick kneeled to have a closer look. Drenched in blood was Jason's tracker. "Someone must've cut it out of him."
"Well, if Dr. Light's dead, where the fuck is Jason?" Hank, oddly, for someone who showed dislike towards the boy, looked very stressed about the missing teen. But Artemisia was not one to judge; she'd insulted Jason on uncountable occasions, sometimes even stepping towards the physical line, yet her figure was jittery since she left her room and saw everyone prepared to search. When it became real.
"He must be working with a partner."
On cue, a cellphone began ringing. They looked at each other, trying to figure out whose phone went off. No one claimed the annoying sound. Zach then turned to the body. He took an old phone from among the wires. Artemisia snatched it off his hands, passing it to Dick. Private number, it said on the screen.
Dick answered the call. There was an instant of pure silence and then: "I see you found my gift."
Their hearts sank at the strange voice. It was modulated, hiding its true tone. Artemisia stepped closer to Dick, anxiously biting on her nails. But with his next words, ripping her grown nails would not satisfy her, opting to tear through her healing lips.
"It's Deathstroke." As the rest of the group held back their emotions, and nearly failing to do so, Dick remained still, face and tone cold. "Where's Jason?"
"Oh, you mean your little sidekick?" Deathstroke's voice triggered a shiver up her tight spine. She had not met the man, only heard stories, and yet she was scared like a kid who'd believed every scary tale their parents told them.
But Jason, proving to be more courageous than most of them, did not feel daunted by the man who was in the same room as him. "Who the fuck 'you calling a sidekick, asshole?" He barked at his captor. He was still alive. That was good ( finally something positive this night ).
