Author’s Assortment #3 – Batman: First Person Bat Pt. 2

Posted: December 29, 2018 in Uncategorized

By G.N. Jacobs

Bruce Wayne carved the snow raising up a wall of white around the high school kids literally doing the same thing, attempting to get lucky in the lodge. Heather Fallon whooshed behind shouting something about how the boy owed the girl a nice dinner and room. And then the happy couple carved left into the black diamond part of the run where steep, bowl, empty and YIPE governed the description.

Judging the skill of his partner as she leaned into her turns and cutbacks, Bruce knew she was better than her giggly demeanor in the car suggested. Why he felt nothing about trusting his instinct…and the snippets of heartbreaking data heard from sources. Eventually, this ski trip would go bad and all that remained was to find out why Heather had come this far.

Bruce shot a glance over to the spot on the right of the snowy hill where Alfred had picked from the topographical map. Two figures in white that most eyes wouldn’t pick out at this distance sat in the snow sharing Alfred’s signature chicken soup. One figure wore his white in the form of pattern disruptive fatigues. The other wore hers as a pure skintight catsuit for lack of a better word. Her cowl had tiny protrusions that many likened to actual felines and she wore her purple lensed goggles on her forehead. Good, she got my message, Bruce thought.

The plan required Bruce to pull left into the bowl away from his backup. Stifling the smile he felt on the inside, he lightly leaned into the turn. The kicked up powder obscured Heather behind him.

“I wondered when you’d really come out to play!” Heather shouted. “First one down calls and the other obeys!”

When this particular powder trail settled back to the slope, the six goons hidden in the snow at various places in the middle of the run stood and jumped into the chase. Bruce committed to the bowl on the left where angels and ordinary skiers feared to tread. Heather blew a kiss and waved her men forward.

Further up the hill, Alfred held back Selina with a strong hand. “We need to see if that’s all of them.”

“He needs help!”

Alfred counted off and seeing no more goons lowered his hand. “Go for Heather. I have the rest.”

With that Alfred unzipped his weapon case producing a shotgun with a long hunting barrel that had been printed in green camouflage good for summer. He’d wrapped the butt and part of the foregrip with bright green gaffer’s tape and written NON-LETHAL ONLY on the tape with a Sharpie. Once he’d set the shoulder strap to keep the weapon in front of him, he pushed Selina down the hill.

The bowl, a nearly vertical feature where expert skiers looked good doing cutbacks nearly leaping down the hill, loomed. Even further to the left lay a straight downhill part where the skier could catch air or die based on landing correctly.

Bruce shook his head and decided on the bowl. He had three seconds until he hit the point of no return for any of these dangerous choices. Two goons sought all the air they could leaping off the moguls. Gravity brought them closer.

BOOM! The already loud 12-gauge shotgun reverberated off the nearby cliffs. Luckily, this whole ski run had been posted with the signage promising that all avalanche remedies had been taken courtesy of a management that preferred not to be sued.

Alfred had loaded modified taser shells in keeping with the officially non-lethal ethos of his employer. This shell added fins, vanes and heat seeking head to assist guidance towards its target. The seeker centered the warm purple blob of a hot human being and the controls moved to make it so…

ZZZZZZT! A combination of the taser prongs and adhesive on the blunt face of the shell buried into the first disposable goon. A man who actually wore a red T-shirt under his black tactical skiing gear. For good measure – ZZZZT! – the taser shell added a second jolt to make sure.

Driven by a need to actually have a meaningful conversation that included an apology for the recent past, Selina became the craziest skier on the hill. Screaming like a banshee she pulled on her ski poles seeking to pull every micro-joule of food energy in her body. She bent her knees and chose the largest mogul to hit.

Bruce mapped out his course down the steep parts using the top of the bowl with an outlet into the downhill. Left. Right. Walls of snow rose up with each cut. Quick flashes looking over his shoulder told him that Alfred had dropped at least three goons into the snow. Selina had closed with Heather to a distance of a perhaps five feet.

The women leaned into their chase shouting the kind of insults that women just shouldn’t hear. The nearest goon reached behind with his ski pole to release his boots. And this flying man bellowed at full volume falling downhill. Bruce crouched down letting the body fall overhead possible cracking a shoulder on a rock.

Bruce – BOOM! BOOM! – reacted over his shoulder seeing Alfred drop the final two goons with his taser shells. Selina had caught up to Heather on skis and had yanked the skiers away from the bowl and steep downhill onto the edge of the intermediate part of the slope off to the right.

Selina and Heather fought amid the discarded skis and poles. Punch. Kick. Block. POW! SOCK-O! Kick. Block. Chop. Slap. And then Heather found the reach for Selina’s dark hair peeking out from her orange ski cap. Pulling hair changed the fight.

Selina brought up her fingers trusting the studded claws in her gloves and broke free. Heather hauled off with a left hook to catch Muhammad Ali unawares. Selina – TH-WHACK! – saw stars taking this fearsome shot. Heather finished this part of the fight and quickly snapped on a mismatched set of skis to resume the chase with Bruce.

Bruce led the way down the hill. The few skiers not involved slid to a stop to pull out the cells phones to get the video. Four expert, possibly Olympic level skiers fell/drove with the gravity. Selina scrunched down into her crouch trying to steal a few more inches with Heather.

Bruce landed squarely centered over his skis. Heather and Selina landed together throwing hard elbows every which way somehow maintaining their collective balance through the hard landing. The many hipsters capturing the moment for social media hooted and hollered, possibly easily impressed. Alfred followed behind barely touching the mountain and leaping into a spectacular airborne show that included him acrobatically falling through Pitch, Yaw and Roll.

Bruce landed zooming into the lower bunny hill portion of the ski run. Selina’s struggle ended well…sort of, when she threw the mother of all hard elbows at Heather and pushed the redhead into…Bruce Wayne. Alfred landed perfectly just in time to see a tangle of bodies rolling down the snowpack.

WHAM! CLANG! Bruce and Heather hit the metal chair lift all kinds of wrong. CRAAAAACK! And that was Bruce Wayne’s left leg. Silence filled the valley allowing the fluffy powder to fall back to the slope.

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