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□ tim □
If we stop running, we die.
We're just along the outskirts of Niagara Falls and we've still got a long way to go to get to Gotham. At least most of the state of New York, the tip of Pennsylvania, and we're in New Jersey, but not Gotham.
We're running, not flying or driving. And we can't stop. If we stop we get hit. And we die if we get hit.
In total, Dad said the trip from our training area, Echo Bay to Gotham City was just under three hundred hours; exactly 297. That's twelve-point thirty-eight days and we're on day five and a half since we decided to go back home, and I'm exhausted.
We've been running off the things on our back since we had less than ten minutes to pack, and now even Dad seems tired.
Yeah, he's trained by the League of Shadows, and the League of Assassins. Yeah, he's Batman. Yeah, he's Bruce Wayne-- but he's not invincible. No super speed. No heat vision. No real superpowers besides his body, mind, and vengeance.
"Tim, we have to go, they're not far behind us," Dad demands, and I see that he's a couple of paces ahead of me.
I arch my eyebrows, and lean against the tree for another couple of instants, and compel my body, limb by limb, to catch up. Everything aches.
Dad's pace has slowed down a little, and I'm grateful. Just being slower by one mile is unbelievably better, but it also quickly becomes a curse.
Some new assassins from the guy with the initials N.J.J launched a chase on us a couple of days ago, probably because their guys ratted us out about us torturing them.
It's torture, physical discomfort, emotional ruin, mental spirals. Torture is a hell of its own.
Torture, itself, is like a butterfly. Beautiful but deadly. There's a certain link between life and death. That link must be torture. It's the happy medium between the two. Life creates you but puts you through mental, emotional, and physical pain.
When death comes around and you don't see it, you know you want to go to heaven, but you don't want to die.
"Tim," Dad snaps quickly, which then leads him to shove me ahead of him. I start to sprint, not looking back but understanding the urgency of the situation.
I know Dad will follow me within moments and catch up sooner rather than later. It's what he does.
However, as I run through the area, I get a dreadful feeling in the cavity of my stomach.
