BOP Issue 3 of 4

“Something isn’t right.”

Huntress’ statement was simple, yet caused both of her costume-clad companions to become alert. Black Canary was still in Batgirl’s arms, physically and emotionally drained from their ordeal; her eyes were visibly bleary and sore from her weeping. Personally, Huntress would never have allowed such a display of weakness before anyone, let alone her comrades, but she cast those thoughts aside as Batgirl gave her a questioning glance.

“What, Helena?” she posed.

“See for yourself,” Huntress responded, motioning to the desk before her.

Batgirl rose to her feet, Canary shakily doing the same and studying the table that Huntress had gestured to. It was completely covered with notes and discarded test tubes, scraps of paper with chemical formulas scrawled across them and glass jars filled with unrecognisable powders. Atop one sheet was written, ‘The Paradise Formula’. Batgirl grimaced, the expression accompanying Canary’s gasp.

“She wanted us to know what she’s up to,” Batgirl stated.

“Think further,” Huntress pressed, pursing her lips. “She took the rest of our team, the ones that she’s supposedly already infected” – she glanced at Canary suspiciously; the heroine’s grief could have dulled her senses and her assumption could’ve been wrong – “and it appears that she’s got more of the formula.”
“She wants to infect Vegas,” Canary completed, her voice slightly tinted by a horrified awe.

Huntress frowned. “But how?”

“You think further, this time,” Batgirl stated. “If you wanted to spread a plague throughout a city, how would you do it?”

A silence fell between them for Huntress replied sullenly. “The water supply.”

It didn’t take long for the Birds to reach the nearest water treatment plant. Batgirl led the way, Huntress and Canary a respectable distance behind. The trio began to wade through the sea of unconscious bodies, completely alert. The sheer amount of destruction littering the place didn’t surprise them; they had already learnt, far too well, of the havoc Omen could wreak. A tense silence enveloped the entire complex, broken only by the light pitter-patter of water dripping from a shattered pipe.

“There,” Canary murmured, her voice hushed.

Her two companions followed her gaze, and grimaced as they settled their eyes on the perpetrator of the scheme. Batgirl’s hand fell to her belt, and Huntress unsheathed the blade she had secreted inside her cloak. Canary cast a disapproving look at the vigilante, but Huntress merely ran her gloved hand over the flat of the sword. Batgirl rested her palm on Huntress’ forearm.

“No killing, Huntress,” she whispered.

“I’ll do what I need to do,” Huntress hissed, “but I will only kill if driven to it.”

Batgirl nodded, content in the knowledge that it was as good a response as she could hope for from Huntress. She would just have to trust her, as a teammate and a hero, not to cross the line that so many had fallen prey to before. Drawing and unfolding a golden batarang, the fiery-haired Bat hurled the projectile in one fluid motion…only for it to pass through ‘Omen’.

“Predictable,” a cold voice spoke out from behind them. All three swivelled to see the real Omen, coated in telekinetic energy, levitating metres above the concrete. “You are too late.”

Batgirl cursed inwardly as she realised that the figure she had assaulted was nothing more than a telepathic illusion. “We know your game, Omen, and we plan to stop it.”

“Stand down, or I make sure you don’t get back up when you fall,” Huntress growled threateningly.

Canary didn’t waste time with words, and allowed her jaw to drop. Sonic waves erupted from the back of her throat, tearing through Omen’s shield and carrying her through the ceiling of the structure. “That’s for Ollie!”

Batgirl exhaled audibly as Huntress followed the blonde bombshell as she sprinted towards the entrance, and darted after them.

Canary grunted in shock as Omen sent a stone slab spinning into her chest. She fell with a rush of air as oxygen was expelled from her lungs, and winced in time with a sickening crack. A searing pain shot through her chest and a sudden shortness of breath overcame her. Huntress dashed past her, ducking and dodging the following slabs that were being sent her way, leaving Batgirl to drop to one knee beside her fallen friend.

“Dinah? You okay?” she questioned worriedly.

“I swear that cow just cracked one of my ribs,” Canary panted.

“By the sounds of it, she did more than that.” Batgirl gripped her shoulder. “Dinah, you were pretty smashed up before we even came here. We won’t judge you if you want to sit out –”

“Don’t ask me to do that, Barbara,” Dinah hissed, and hauled herself to her feet, taking off at a run and ignoring the agony racking her body.

Batgirl reluctantly pursued her, another batarang clenched in one fist. She couldn’t wait for this entire ordeal to be over, for Omen to be defeated; a surge of adrenaline increased her speed and a reddish haze fell over her surrounding. Suddenly, killing didn’t seem so bad after all, and she wished that the blade Huntress possessed was in her hand. She shook her head vigorously…it was all too easy to go down that path, and she had to set an example.

Several metres ahead, Huntress brought her sword across in a left-to-right cut, sweeping aside the miniature hunks of debris Omen was assaulting her with. Grinding her teeth together, she cursed savagely as her opponent vanished in a flash of white light. Batgirl and Canary slowed and stopped on either side of her, both weary from their trials.

“It’s just battle after battle after battle!” Canary exclaimed. “I swear, when I catch that Omen…”

“Dinah.”

Batgirl gestured to the concrete expanse before them, filled with citizens…each and every one of them completely still. Canary swore vehemently under her breath and stepped back in disgust. In less than an hour, the effects of Omen’s virus had already been devastating. They were all pondering the consequences if it was left to spread for much longer…but none spoke of them. There was no point in stating the obvious; in some areas, at least.

“We’ve got to stop her,” Batgirl said determinedly. “Now.”

With that, she took to the rooftops with her grapple hook, throwing herself through the air with a practiced efficiency and what could be looked upon as a reckless desperation, tearing across the silent city with her eyes set on the casino they had left but minutes ago. The car that they had hijacked to transport them to the docks would be of no use to them when the roads were cluttered by victims of the ‘Omen virus’. Occasionally, there would be shrieks from the uninfected below – and there were many of them – but the costumed girl couldn’t stop.

There was far too much to lose.

Omen reappeared in the basement of the casino, fumbling with the notes on the table. Her hood fell down, gathering around her neck. It revealed pallid skin contrasting deeply with her almond eyes and rouged lips. Beads of sweat were drenching her forehead after her exertions from utilising her telekinetic powers in such rapid succession.

“Master,” she murmured breathlessly. “There are still survivors, and my challengers have not been affected.” She did not need to say it out loud, for, simultaneously, she was transmitting a telepathic message of the same content. It simply served as a lightning rod to focus her powers.

“Very well,” a guttural voice responded, echoing throughout her skull. “Use the telepathic measures. I will be arriving soon to dispose of these pests.”

“Of course. I shall prepare,” Omen responded obediently, and cut the telepathic link. “If they won’t drink the water, they will feel it in their minds!”

I can’t do this, I don’t have time for this, Batgirl thought anxiously. The world around her was gone, replaced by blades of grass caressing her back and the Sun bathing her in its magnificent golden glow. This isn’t real, it isn’t real, and I –

“Babs?” A familiar masculine voice broke into her thoughts.

I can’t open my eyes, can’t get sucked in…

But then, Richard Grayson pressed his lips against hers, and the perfection overcame her.