Justice League of America - Batman: The Stone King (11 page)

"Whew," he breathed, taking Wonder Woman's proffered hand and hauling himself upright "Have to admit, I wasn't expecting
that!"

A
thick column of cobalt-blue light extended a hundred feet or more into the air. The energies within the column swirled and roiled, crackling with flashes of a strange electricity that seemed to throw off little globes of fading light.

The five heroes stared soundlessly at it for a long moment, at a loss over what to do next.

"I see . . . something in there," the Flash said at last. "Look at those patterns."

The light inside the column writhed like a living thing, tortuously weaving this way and that as it gradually began to acquire a faintly humanoid form. But mere was something animal about it, too. As horns began to sprout from the giant figure's head, Batman suddenly realized why it seemed so familiar.

"The same figure I saw at Gotham Cathedral!" he exclaimed. "The monster that killed all those people!"

"It's not a whole lot different from the thing that attacked me, too." Green Lantern nodded in agreement "About ten times bigger, is all." He remembered the feeling of looking into the eyes of the shamanic mask, the mesmerizing power that had seemed to sap his will and replace his thoughts with . . . something alien.

"You told us it tried to hypnotize you?" Batman asked.

"What of it?" Lantern said curtly.

Batman shot his companion a puzzled look. It wasn't like Green Lantern to be so snide. "Everybody go careful," he cautioned. "We don't want it happening again."

Without warning, the light column expanded in width until it covered the entire summit, enveloping the startled heroes before they could react.

Suddenly, they found themselves fighting for their lives.

Green Lantern was astonished to find himself surrounded by a thick, blue-green mist that seemed to cling to his body.

He ordered his ring to clear it, but as fast as the green beams dissipated the mist, more appeared, so thick he could barely see his hand in front of his face.

I could be at this for days and not make any difference,
Lantern concluded, futilely trying to brush away the dull turquoise tendrils that wafted round his face.
Time to try a different tack!

Another thought, and the ring responded at once, creating a green spotlight that shone brighter than the noonday sun. It penetrated the mist, but only partially. Not enough for Lantern to see what was happening to his companions.

How come I can't even hear them?
he wondered anxiously.
Surely this thing hasn't managed to kill them?

The thought tailed away, to be replaced by a feeling of what he could only call dread in the pit of his stomach. Something was moving through the mist toward him, something ancient and powerful and unspeakably hideous.

It walked on all fours, its feet scaly and clawed. Its body was massive, covered in armored plates like a dinosaur. A knob of sharp spikes bristled on the end of its long, heavy tail. Huge jaws opened wide, showing foot-long teeth festooned with scraps of meat and rotting flesh. And its cobalt-blue eyes blazed with a hatred that he could actually feel.

Obedient to Lantern's every whim, the power ring armed him with a double-bladed battle sword. As the monster lunged at him, its drooling jaws snapping, Lantern swung the sword with all his might.

His blow embedded the blade deep in the huge beast's skull. Blue sparks flew, and a wild shriek of pain assailed Green Lantern's ears.

He raised the sword to strike again, but already it was too late. The beast's nightmare jaws snapped shut around his torso. In agonized disbelief, Lantern felt the creature's teeth puncturing his flesh as if the ring's protective field was no longer in place.

Burning pain, the likes of which he'd never felt in his life, scorched through him. And the whole world seemed filled with his own terrified screams. . . .

The bull-headed figure's massive hand had closed around Superman's body, lifting him high off the ground and squeezing with a power the Man of Steel found hard to believe possible. Bracing himself, he flexed every muscle in his body in an effort to break free, with scant success.

At any moment, he expected to hear Martian Manhunter's telepathic voice inside his head, detailing what he and the others must do to overcome mis predicament But J'onn wasn't here, and the only thoughts in his head were his own.

Exerting all of his fantastic strength, Superman managed to pry the figure's treelike fingers apart for a fleeting moment. Everything was swirling blue-green light. He could see no sign of his comrades.

Superman blinked, bringing his heat vision into play. He trained the focus of the narrow beam on the fingers that held him in their unbreakable grip, the heat quickly mounting until it felt like the surface of the sun. Black smoke poured from the creature's charred flesh, and Superman seized his opportunity as its hand relaxed its grip slightly.

With one superhuman effort, the Man of Steel broke free. Powering into flight, he tried to put distance between himself and the sixty-foot-tall bull-headed figure. But no matter how hard he tried, he could only move a few inches. The air was thick and viscous, and the more Superman struggled against it, the harder the air seemed to ding to him and slow him even more.

"Batman? Superman?" Wonder Woman's voice sounded thin and hollow as she narrowed her eyes and tried to pierce the weird turquoise fog.

Can't see anything . . . but they were right beside me only moments ago!

There was a spine-tingling roar behind her and she whirled, instinctively dropping into defensive pose as she braced for attack. Nothing there. Another roar, closer now, but coming from somewhere off to her right. Wonder Woman turned quickly. There was nothing but thick mist.

Like the sea mist in the mornings off the coast of Themyscira,
she thought, with a sudden, uncharacteristic stab of homesickness.

Suddenly, from out of the fog, a stone club smashed into her skull, thrown or swung with such force that it disintegrated into dust on impact. Normally impervious to physical violence, Wonder Woman staggered and almost fell. Recovering her balance, she heard a low swish as something cleaved through the air toward her.

This time she raised both hands, and a second heavy club ricocheted off the silver bracelets she sported on each wrist. Wielded by hands she couldn't see, the weapon swung at her again and again, and Wander Woman's own hands became a blur as she fought to anticipate and ward off the blows.

Thoughts chased chaotically through her head, tumbling over each other
How long have I been here? Where are the others? What in the name of Themyscira is going on?

Her mind seemed to be seizing up, crammed full of a million thoughts all clamoring to express themselves at once. Grimly, she shook her head, trying to clear it. And that was all the opening her unseen foe needed.

A dozen dubs thudded into her simultaneously. Still trying to fight back, Wonder Woman fell to her knees, snarling defiance. But a second wave of blows rained down on her, coming in from all angles, bombarding her with blinding pain.

Her vision seemed to fill with stars, before darkness mercifully claimed her.

Only the Flash's reaction had been swift enough when the light-column swelled.

He'd moved back instinctively, but at superspeed, so the expanding light barely touched him before he lost his footing and fell off the pyramid's top course. He hit the sloping side once, rolled, and crashed heavily to the second course ten feet below.

Cursing beneath his breath, ignoring the pain that flared in his left ankle, the Flash scrambled back to his feet and looked up. No column of light. No Justice League members.

Nothing at all.

The moon was blanketed by a black mass of clouds, and not a beam of light broke through. The Flash stretched a tentative hand toward where he figured the up-sloping pyramid wall should be. There was nothing there.

This is absurd! The Fastest Man Alive, hamstrung like a blind animal!

He started to walk to the end of the course, but before he'd even completed the first step, a sudden thought struck him. He paused, stooping to feel for the ground before him with his hand. Nothing. Anxiety growing within him, he turned around and repeated the maneuver. Nothing behind him either.

It was as if he were perched on the tip of a narrow stone plinth. The only solid ground was beneath his feet, and around him absolutely nothing but thin air. Unlike Superman and Wonder Woman, Flash couldn't fly. It was a talent he'd never missed, because when you were as fast as he was it was no problem to go anywhere in the world on foot. Granted, he could manipulate the molecules of his body to keep him hovering in the air. But as far as he could tell, he was standing on the only solid ground. Where the hell could he hover to?

He'd have given almost anything to have heard Martian Manhunter's voice inside his head, telling him exactly what was going on. As a member of the Justice League, you got used to doing things as a team. It was only when team dynamics stalled that you realized how dependent you'd become.

The Flash squatted on his haunches, feeling despair creep over him. Whoever had laid this trap couldn't have made a better one for the Scarlet Speedster.

Even as the light had flared out to swallow them, Batman had cursed himself for making a mistake. He
knew
that the previous night's encounter had been some sort of testing ground for the heroes. He should have known they'd be targets!

Now he found himself alone in the strange blue-green fog, with neither sight nor sound of his companions. His mind raced, sifting through the possibilities: he might have been transported to another location, even another dimension. This might all be an illusion, the work of some warped master conjuror. Or maybe it was the others who had been transported elsewhere. . . .

Batman had faced hundreds of villains over the years, each with his own weird and twisted power. He'd learned long since to accept nothing at face value, and to question everything. He riffled through the files of his memory, but found no name connected with this type of modus operandi.

What was that?

A shiver of fear ran through him like a jolt of electricity, jamming his senses. Had he heard a rustling around his feet? Was he just imagining the cool, slimy touch of something like a tentacle, wrapping itself around his boots? He wore infrared lenses in his mask, but even with enhanced vision he could see nothing except the all-pervading mist.

He kicked out with a foot, and encountered nothing. Just his imagination–though that fact itself caused him to worry. Batman wasn't in the habit of imagining things.

Something he couldn't see brushed against his cowl. He heard a dry, chattering voice whispering like an insect in his ear, a long stream of savage blasphemies and murderous threats. Despite himself, a small knot of terror was growing in the pit of his gut.

How could he fight what he couldn't see? How could he resist an enemy who didn't seem to even exist? How could anyone deal with disembodied voices?

The whispers in his ear became more insistent, leering obscenely, describing in sickening detail what was going to happen to him.

We'ttcutoutyourheartandfeedittoyourfriends! We'llripoff yourlimbs!We'llsuckthemarrowfromyourbones!

Suddenly panic-stricken, Batman pulled a handful of tiny concussion grenades from his Utility Belt. Tossing them underhand, he sent them scattering in front of him like a handful of corn seed. There was a five-second delayed fuse on each, and he pulled his cape over his head as he turned his back to wait for the explosions.

The first grenade went off with a wet sound like a razor slicing through flesh. The second emitted horrible, high-pitched laughter. The others exploded in a series of small pops, followed by a redoubling of the odious voices hissing in his ears.

The knot of terror pulsed within him, quickly turning into a hideous dread that seemed to penetrate every pore of his body. Beads of perspiration broke out on his forehead. His heart raced, and his hands felt clammy. He was going to die here–horribly and painfully. He knew it with a certainty that was almost physical in its intensity.

A thin sliver of logic slipped between his terrors.
Fear is a gift,
he reminded himself.
Fear is a message from the subconscious mind. Fear is a warning.

Yet there was nothing here to be wary of, just a strange blue-green mist. Voices in his ears might be uncomfortable and unsettling, but on their own they couldn't harm him.

Then why do I feel terrified?

Of course! The answer struck him with the force of a hurricane. This wasn't his own fear, his own terror, his own dread. This was being imposed on him, forced on him by some external source. Something, or someone, was tampering with his feelings, manipulating them, trying to drive him crazy!

Thinking the thought was enough to bootstrap him momentarily out of the fugue. Almost immediately, he felt the knot of terror reseed itself in his stomach. Whatever his enemy was, it wasn't giving up. He had to take action and extricate himself from this madness.

It was impossible to get any sort of bearings within the all-encompassing mist. Batman had no option but to entrust himself to his own earlier observations–to assume that his unconscious mind had noticed, and filed away, everything it could about the pyramid.

Trusting himself completely, Batman suddenly took three strides forward and dived headfirst off the summit.

The blue-green mist remained where it was as his body burst through it into the darkness of night. He tucked his head into his chest, bringing both hands up to break his fall an instant before he struck the pyramid's sloping side. He somersaulted once, then his feet hit the next course down.

Unable to check his momentum, he plunged over the side of the second course. This time he wasn't so lucky, landing awkwardly and rolling down the slope only half in control. His head struck against a knob of protruding granite, half dazing him.