Buffy and Giles snuck around to the back of the Janus Imports warehouse building, which Batman had identified as the supplier for Hooligan's. Along with drinking glasses, utensils, and food items, this place likely distributed the Scarecrow's fear-inducing toxin that Ethan Rayne had been mixing into teenagers' "non-alcoholic" drinks.
"We're sure this is the place, right?" Buffy said as they approached the rear loading dock.
"Janus Imports. It's definitely the place," Giles said. "Ethan's practically signed his name on the building in large letters, with his fascination with the two-faced demon, Janus. Besides, Batman said so."
"Yeah, that's good enough for me, too. I'm just used to seeing vampire lackeys guarding the front when I raid a place. That always cinches the deal. Working a late afternoon is making me feel really extra-curricular."
"Well, try not to pass out from the exertion."
"Ooh, is that sarcasm?" she teased. "You know, I put in a lot of slaying hours, and this is overtime. Where's my Vampire Slayer benefits package? Batman's right. We need cell phones. And maybe satellite TV hookup."
"Do you have any idea how expensive cell phones are?"
Buffy knit her brow. "No. Do you?"
Giles cleared his throat. "Well – no. But quite a bit more than we can spare. We'll be lucky to afford some walkie-talkies."
"Okay, I'm down with walkie-talkies. Hey, look at us. We're having a planning meeting. I feel more job motivation already. What other benefits can I expect?"
Giles turned on her, whispering through clenched teeth. "If you'll be quiet, I'll give you a cookie. For now, let's make our way inside, with less chitchat."
"Done," Buffy said, dropping to a whisper. "Didn't even know I was chitchatting. What does that really mean, anyway? I get the 'chat', but what is –?" She paused as Giles grimaced at her again. "Sorry." She made a motion of zipping her own lip shut. "I'm in church mouse mode."
Giles climbed the platform stairs beside the loading bay doors. He tried the door handle, finding it locked.
"Step back," Buffy said. "I'll kick it open."
"That won't be necessary. Or stealthy." Giles reached into his coat pocket, extracting a couple of metal pins. "Batman's not the only one with useful tools."
He hunched over the doorknob, applying the metal rods to the door. Within a minute, he had worked the door's lock to jimmy it open with a soft click.
Buffy pursed her lips, impressed. "Wow, Giles. I didn't know you could pick a lock."
"It's not a skill I wish you to learn," he said dismissively. "Unless, of course, it helps you in your slaying duties. As it does now. Follow me."
"Follow you? Giles, you remember I'm still the Slayer, not you, right?"
He gave her a cold stare. "We're not dealing with vampires just now. We're dealing with Ethan. And I don't want him harming any of you, if I can help it."
Buffy shrugged, accepting his temporary lead. "Fine by me. But I say we bring the harm to him."
Giles nodded and entered ahead of her, peering into the room and creeping inside. Buffy couldn't help admiring Giles' technique. For an older guy, he was quite the ninja.
The warehouse was large and dark, with boxes and crates piled twenty feet high on large shelves. They crept forward slowly, toward the dim light issuing from the opposite end of the room.
"We know Ethan's involved with this distributor," Giles whispered. "We just need to find something incriminating to prove they're connected."
They crept forward and heard the click of footsteps, a moment before Ethan Rayne walked around a storage shelf corner. He strode straight into their path, looking up from his clipboard and stopping short to gape at them.
"And in walks 'Incrimination,'" Buffy said.
Ethan flashed a nervous smile at Giles. "Ripper," he greeted. "My, my. How long has it been?"
He turned and ran down the aisle.
Giles tore after him, seizing his shirt collar as they neared the end of the aisle. He carried Ethan the rest of the way to slam against the wall. "Not long enough," Giles seethed in Ethan's face. "I warned you to leave town, twice."
Ethan winced at the pain in his back. "Well, you know I've always done a poor job of following directions. I'm afraid we're closed for the day, but if you want to place an order tomorrow morning, I'll be glad to –." He grunted as Giles thrust him against the wall again.
"We know about the Scarecrow, and we know about Kalderon," Giles said. "What else are you up to, Ethan?"
Ethan shrugged. "Nothing much. Just making some new friends."
"Like who?" Buffy challenged. "Freddy Krueger?"
"No," Ethan said, glancing beyond Giles. "Felix Faust. Shall I introduce you?"
Giles and Buffy turned to see a gaunt man dressed in dark ceremonial robes. He chanted something in an ancient language and two bursts of light emitted from his raised palms, shooting straight at them. The energy blasts knocked them off their feet and against the wall, turning everything black.
Buffy woke with a ringing headache, seated on the floor. She tried to stand, but discovered her wrists were bound behind her, tied to the girder of a heavy storage shelf. She glanced around, seeing Giles tied similarly beside her.
"Ah, you're both awake," Ethan said, standing across from them. He held two syringes in his hand, filled with a dark green liquid. Beyond him, Felix Faust stood at a table that held a crystal ball, which revealed various images of people running and screaming through town. Faust held his hands around the ball, as if manipulating their fear, or studying it.
"What are you planning now, Ethan?" Giles asked.
Ethan looked up at the ceiling, as if lost in thought. "Bit of a loaded question. There are so many layers to what we're planning. There's the panic we're creating throughout town. Which leads to the location of Kalderon. Which leads to the Remnant curse."
Giles jerked against his ropes suddenly. "The Remnant curse? Are you insane? After what happened with your last attempt?"
Ethan frowned. "Don't you mean our last attempt, Ripper?"
Giles bit his tongue.
Ethan continued. "You can keep up this charade with your pupils at Sunnydale High, masquerading as an innocent overseer. But we've both seen the beast that hides beneath those spectacles."
"So have I," Buffy defended. "The difference between you and Giles is – he's not a beast anymore. We can trust him."
"Can you?" Ethan challenged. "Perhaps. But you've never really seen Rupert when he's pushed. Backed into a corner. He might surprise you. Even frighten you."
Buffy returned Ethan's smug grin. "I don't think so. I know you used to hang with Giles. He told me all about it. But that's not who he is anymore. While you're the same slimy snake you always were."
Ethan snorted with amusement. "I'll take that as a compliment."
"You can't perform that spell, Ethan," Giles pressed. "It's too dangerous. Too unpredictable. There's no telling who might be transported. Or where they'll end up."
"True," Ethan acknowledged. "But you know, Faust is very keen on seeing it performed. He sought me out for my Gachnar scroll to assist him, and wouldn't take 'No' for an answer. And I've become rather fond of keeping my head attached to my shoulders."
Giles grit his teeth, struggling hard against the ropes. "You can't do this! It could destroy all mankind."
Ethan raised his eyebrows. "Well, that's sort of his plan. Which is why I feel it's in my best interest to join his team, rather than get wiped away with the rest of the world."
"Funny," Buffy said. "I feel it's in my best interest to kick your face in."
"Yes, I'm sure you do," Ethan said as he held up a syringe, staring at its dark contents. "But despite your reservations, the two of you are going to help us out. Strictly on a volunteer basis, of course." He smiled down at them. "I'm the one who volunteered you both, by the way."
"Forget it," Buffy said. "I may be overworked, but I'm not applying at your company. Even if you offer Dental."
"Sorry, no dental plan," Ethan said, approaching with the syringes and dropping to one knee. "But we do offer psychiatric benefits, to help you overcome your darkest fears. Of course, the best way to overcome those fears is to face them, head on. This will just take a minute." He injected one syringe into Giles' neck, then injected the other into Buffy's, as they struggled to free their wrists. "Don't worry," Ethan said, setting the empty syringes aside and producing a sharp knife. "I'll cut you free as soon as the toxin takes hold."
Giles squinted. "Why?"
"We don't want anyone cooped up in one place when they're in a proper state of panic," Ethan said. "They need to be free to run about, spread the fear around. Faust can track that fear, and any tremors it produces in Kalderon, if he's near the source."
"As we suspected," Giles said. "You're spreading panic throughout Sunnydale. Trying to locate Kalderon."
"Exactly," Ethan said. "I was certain you had hidden it away in England somewhere, under the scrutinizing eyes of the Watcher's Council. But Faust assured me that Kalderon is emanating faintly from somewhere here in town."
"What?" Giles said, bluffing. "You think I'd be daft enough to keep Kalderon anywhere near me, let alone right here in Sunnydale?"
Buffy soured at him, thinking of Kalderon in his ugly scorpion-like statue form, stationed in the middle of Giles' library.
"I'm sure you've distanced yourself from it," Ethan said. "But whoever's helping you, they're close at hand."
"All right, I confess," Giles said. "But you'll never find my source. With all of your poking around in the spiritual realm, you've already alerted them to skip town on the next plane."
"We'll see," Ethan said, waving a finger. "You were never much at bluffing, Ripper."
Buffy frowned sideways at Giles. "I'll give you a C+."
Ethan raised the knife again. "Faust will continue to monitor the tremors he's located so far, but we appreciate your efforts to our cause. Pleasant dreams."
Giles blinked at Ethan's blurring image as he felt the ropes loosening around his wrists. Then he noticed his senses numbing. He turned toward Buffy, as her jaw fell slack. He wished he could reach her, to pull her out of whatever nightmare she was about to enter.
But first he would have to escape his own.
The Batmobile roared through the streets at a dangerous speed, to which Batman seemed oblivious. He continued to punch buttons on the central console, dialing another phone number as he steered with the other hand.
A soft voice answered. "Hello?"
"Willow. Batman here."
"Oh, my gosh!" Willow said, almost squealing into the phone. "Are you and Xander in the Batmobile? Is that the rumbling I hear?"
"No," Xander said, gripping the edges of the seat and open glass ceiling tight. "That's just my stomach churning in big circles as we drive."
Willow worked at sounding serious and professional. "Well – this is Willow reporting – on the other end. Ready for duty. Uh – how can I help?"
"Have you tracked any other movements of panicked crowds?" Batman asked her.
"No, nothing significant yet. Just a few pockets here and there, but the only large concentration is where you're headed."
"Understood," Batman said. "We're nearing the mall. We'll handle the crowd and report back to you when we're finished."
"Okay. Roger, Wilco. You can count on me. This is Willow, over and out." She switched a button, but apparently not the one to disconnect her call. "Oz, did you hear that? I'm totally partnering with Batman! I'm like a Justice Leaguer." She made an audible gasp. "Or Robin! Holy promotion!"
"Stop," Batman said. "I can still hear you. And – just stop."
"Oh. Sorry, sir," Willow answered sheepishly, finally pressing the right button to disconnect.
Seconds later, the Batmobile screeched to a halt as a panic-stricken mob ran across the mall parking lot in all directions, some of them rushing straight toward the car.
"I'm gonna make a big assumption that we found the Scarecrow's latest panic attack," Xander said with a sharp intake of breath. "This thing has overhead windows and locks, right?" Before he finished asking, the bulletproof glass was already sliding over the top of his head as the door locks thumped into place. "Oh, good. There they are. Feeling safe now."
"Don't get used to it," Batman said, staring beyond the crowd.
Xander squinted between the crazed shoppers, catching glimpses of a thin man standing on a bench near the mall entrance. He was dressed entirely in ragged brown cloth and a tattered, wide-brimmed hat, with a sand-colored mask covering his entire face.
The Scarecrow.
The eerie figure raised a large bazooka to his shoulder, aiming it directly at the Batmobile.
"Okay, feeling less safe now," Xander said.
"Hang on," Batman said, shifting into Reverse and stamping on the accelerator, simultaneously flipping a switch on his controls. Blinding lights flashed outside the Batmobile, enough to disorient the crowd even in the broad daylight, accompanied by a loud air horn alarm, which was completely muted within the car's cockpit. The mob dispersed and fled in all directions, still unable to focus on what they were running from.
Meanwhile, the Batmobile's tires screeched in rage before retreating at a frightening speed, as the Scarecrow fired his weapon. It launched some sort of grenade that exploded on the asphalt area where the Batmobile had been parked a moment earlier. But instead of shrapnel, it released a thick cloud of green gas that spread across the parking lot.
All the way across, into the nostrils of every terrified shopper.
Then the screaming started. Whatever toxin the crowd had been exposed to before, its effects had been amplified, seeming to triple the effect. The shoppers whirled about rapidly, wide-eyed and shrieking, completely engulfed in their deepest fears. They began running, knocking into one another, swiping and clawing in defense at everything around them.
Some came running at the Batmobile again.
"That feeling of non-safety?" Xander said. "It's back."
Batman said nothing, flipping another set of switches. A dark round object shot out of the car's front grill, directly at the spot where the Scarecrow's grenade had exploded. The strange globe rolled across the parking lot, and Xander noticed that it was drawing the green fumes toward it as it passed. "That's handy," Xander said. "What is it?"
"Automated high-power vacuum pump," Batman said. "It won't gather all the fumes, but it will keep most of them from spreading beyond the mall into the city."
"Nice," Xander said. "Good item to put on your grocery list."
"Hang on to something," Batman said, stomping on the accelerator again.
The Batmobile tore across the lot toward the scattered mob, flinging Xander back in his seat. Batman spun the wheel hard to the left, circling around the crowd, blaring the air horn signal again and flashing the intense spotlight. The unnerving sound and light drove everyone back toward the center of the lot as the Batmobile continued to circle them. Once the last of the green fumes had dissipated, Batman pressed another button, releasing more gas that sprayed into the mob. Within seconds, they were falling like dominoes onto the pavement, unconscious.
"You like this form of crowd control, don't you?" Xander said.
"Quick and painless," Batman said, skirting the Batmobile around the bodies and racing toward the mall's sidewalk entryway. "Besides, I don't have enough antidote to the Scarecrow's toxin to use it on a large group. Once I finish with the Scarecrow, we won't need it. Wait here."
The tires screeched as the Batmobile jerked to a halt, its door latches popping up as the glass roof slid back. Batman leapt up from his seat, bounding onto the hood and darting for the Scarecrow. "It's over, Crane! Drop your weapons."
The Scarecrow seemed unperturbed as he spread his scrawny legs into a fighting stance on the bench. "As you wish," he said, reaching behind his back.
"Batman, watch out!" Xander shouted from the parking lot, having jumped out of the Batmobile to follow him.
Batman and the Scarecrow both turned to the boy in surprise. Then the Scarecrow pulled the vial from its place on the rear of his belt and hurled it – at the feet of Xander.
"Xander!" Batman cried.
Xander stared at the green smoke rising from the broken bits of glass before him. The Scarecrow leered at him from atop the bench as Batman ran toward him.
Before they both disappeared.
"Batman?" Xander said. "Batman? Where are you?"
He scanned the mall entrance, but saw no sign of the Scarecrow, either. He turned back toward the parking lot and found it empty. Not a single sleeping body. Everyone had vanished.
Everyone.
Then the sky grew dark. And kept getting darker, quickly. Within seconds, it was night, with a full moon shining overhead.
This is not good, Xander thought.
"Xander. My man," a friendly voice greeted.
Xander turned toward it slowly. He knew that voice. He had wanted to hear it desperately for the past year, while at the same time, he had never wanted to hear it again.
Seated on the bench was the boy he feared he would find. A lanky kid his age, with a friendly smile and awkward posture. He had his arm up on the bench, as if he had been waiting there all along for Xander's arrival.
Xander swallowed at the sight of his best friend.
One of the first people the vampires had killed when they started attacking kids in Sunnydale.
"Jesse," Xander said, almost choking on the word.
"Hey, bud," Jesse said. He gave a half-shrug. "So. What's new?"