The Demon's Bat

Part 1-2: Picking Up a Stray

"Wake up, runt! We got a visitor," Fox announced with a savage kick to the boxes that were holding up my meager shelter. I wasn't too upset about that. When you live with Fox's gang for a week, you don't grow attached to your sleeping arrangements. I stepped out of the pile and blinked into the sun that was coming out between the buildings of downtown Central City. The rest of Fox's gang and I had taken up residence in an alleyway between 5th Street and Maple; it was cramped, but it offered more shelter than some other places I'd stayed in the past year.

What did surprise me is that we had a guest. Fox was a pretty popular fence in the area, but he usually kept the selling business to himself. Aside from that, Fox wasn't taken very seriously. His gang was new and full of young, homeless kids like me- though, truth be told, not nearly as young as me- and Fox himself was barely older than twenty. If we had a visitor, that meant change.

And change wasn't necessarily good.

I walked over to where Mouse was leaning against the brick wall of a building. Mouse stood six feet tall, and though he couldn't have been more than sixteen, his chest and biceps bulged under every shirt he wore. He was the unofficial muscle of the group, and the only reason I could find for his name was irony.

"Hey Mouse, you know what's up this morning?" I asked in my least combative voice. When talking to a guy like Mouse, it's wise to establish that you are not looking to start a fight.

"Shut it pipsqueak." He responded without a glance down at me. Yeah, down. Way down. I hadn't hit my growth spurt yet, and at eleven years old, I wasn't likely to his it soon.

"C'mon, man," I pleaded. "I'm new here and I need guidance from someone as wise and experienced as my good friend Mouse." I didn't have much to go on in this group, but I knew that complimenting Mouse's smarts- even jokingly- could get me answers. He chuckled lightly in response.

"Visitor means a job, Bat. Job means work."

A job, huh? Aside from being a fence, Fox kept his gang around to provide services for the less legal activities of the city. Typically, the gang members brought in stolen goods and cash, but a job meant big money for big prizes. I hadn't been able to bring anything in yet, so a big hit could cement my place in Fox's gang. Sure, he was a bit of an ass sometimes, but stability is something valuable when you don't have a home.

Fox was standing at the end of the alley, his red hair catching the light. He was slender like the rest of us. He was far enough back to be off the sidewalk, and I could see someone that he was blocking from the alley. After a few hushed words that I couldn't make out, Fox stepped aside and gestured the man in.

He was surprisingly young. Probably out of college, but only just. The lanky individual was dressed in a well-tailored suit and his hair hung down to his shoulders. He wasn't terribly handsome, but he shone with deep, inner confidence. He smiled with teeth as white as snow when he looked at us.

"Alright, Den," Fox introduced him. "Say hi to Mr. Nigma."

"Please, please! Call me Eddie. Now, riddle me this" Eddie looked the gang over one by one. As most men did, he gave Hawk a head-to-toe inspection and moved on. Finally, his eyes landed on me, and somehow, his smile got wider. "When did you start recruiting infants?"

Weasel giggled, but Fox shot him a glare that shut him up. I simply did as I had been told to do: cross my arms and say as little as possible. In this case, nothing. This didn't seem to dissuade Eddie who then walked straight up to me and knelt to my eye level.

"What's your name, boy?"

"Bat."

Eddie barked out a laugh. "Now that's a riddle! How does someone like you, earn a name like that?"