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Chapter 25 - The Court of Miracles

Dick slipped into the vacant lot cautiously, his feet moving soundlessly over the packed dirt. He scanned the shadows lining the south wall, penetrating the darkness with his starlight lenses. Satisfied, he turned and glanced up at the rooftop where he knew Tim was watching across the street. Cassie was to his left on a staircase leading down into an abandoned tenement. He didn�t look in her direction.

Crossing the lot and disappearing into the shadows, Dick kept the wall on his left until he felt the others in front of him, waiting in the dark.

�You�re late,� Batman�s deep voice admonished him.

�By 15 seconds - Barbara insisted on driving,� Dick hissed. �Selina?�

�Present,� she said primly, and Dick grinned.

�Any sign of them?�

�Nothing,� Batman replied. �Keep quiet.�

Dick clamped his mouth shut, leaning against the wall. The sounds of night in Tricorner were picked up by the mike in his earpiece and amplified: a car backfiring, loud music blaring from a nearby window, a group of kids passing on the other side of the block, talking excitedly to each other about something unimportant. Dick liked TriCorner. Jim Gordon�s house was here and he and Barbara went to her father�s every Sunday for dinner. The best Jim could manage most of the time was Chinese or pizza, but Dick forgave him easily.

He felt the hours tick by and slowly slid to a crouching position, straightening and stretching when his legs started to stiffen up. Beside him in the dark he sometimes heard Selina doing the same. Bruce didn�t move a muscle the entire time. All three were patient as they waited for midnight but Dick could feel some tension in the air between Selina and Bruce. He was glad he�d remembered to kiss Barbara before piling out of the van.

Finally a car approached on the long stretch of street running in front of the lot. He felt Bruce tense up beside him. Selina seemed to relax even more. Dick simply stood, watching and waiting, his hand pressed tightly to a button concealed in his wrist. The timing had to be perfect.

A long, dark, late-model Ford pulled into the lot, its wheels stirring up clouds of dust. Dick hit the switch just as the Ford�s lights reached them and floodlights popped behind Batman, Catwoman and Nightwing. The driver and passengers of the Ford would be blinded, the floodlights protecting the masked heroes.

The car�s backseat doors opened and three girls got out. They were the same girls from Christmas, the Mexican taking point again. Her hands were empty and it looked to Dick like they were all unarmed. He knew Bruce wouldn�t have assumed the same. The girls stepped forward to speak, blinking in the bright light pouring into the lot.

�You are well prepared,� the Mexican girl complimented, eyeing the three costumed figures. �And all accounted for. Please, come with us.�

Batman shook his head, having expected this. �No,� he said simply.

The girl shrugged. �You will come with us. You want to meet the one who has shown us the way. Get into the car.�

�We were told the Other would meet us here,� Nightwing put in. The girl didn�t seem willing to negotiate with Dick. She dismissed him and continued to address Batman.

�And we were told to bring you. Come now, or miss your chance.�

Batman pretended to think it over, feeling Dick�s concerned expression. Selina seemed bored by everything. They had placed tracers in all three of their costumes to be tracked by Barbara in the van and Tim had attached a tracking device to their car the instant the Ford pulled into the lot. There seemed to be little physical risk in going with the girls but Batman hesitated.

�I want your assurance we will not be harmed,� he appealed to the Mexican girl. Honor was important to her; she had a military bearing and her high Chiappas accent indicated she had been fighting in a rebellion in central Mexico before coming to Gotham. His hunch paid off. The girl nodded.

�You will not be touched,� she told them. �Now, please, come.�

Batman signaled to Tim and Cassie. Barbara would know to follow the Ford. Nightwing got into the car�s backseat first, followed by Catwoman. Batman sat stiffly on the seat, watchful. The girls got into the front, cramming themselves in next to the driver. The driver was a young boy, maybe fourteen, but he piloted the big car with skill and confidence. The car�s windows were blacked out and a screen slid up from the center of the car, partitioning the backseat from the front.

�Guess they don�t want us to know where we�re going,� Selina muttered. �It�s a bit low-rent, don�t you think? I mean, they could have afforded some chloroform��

�It�s effective,� Batman replied tensely. They settled into silence in the backseat of the Ford, listening to the sounds of the city as the car slipped through the streets. Bruce knew roughly the route they were taking: east over the TriCorner bridge, up Union Street and onto Central. The ride took less than forty-five minutes and Bruce was able to count the stoplights and right-hand-turns with ease. They were headed for Cathedral Square.

The Square was so named because four of Gotham�s seven major Gothic Cathedrals had been constructed within a four-block radius. Early Gothamites (Bruce�s ancestors among them) had been extremely pious. Devotion to their faith and nearly unlimited financial resources in the booming economy of 1860s Gotham had resulted in the soaring spires and gargoyle-encrusted edifices of the seven churches. Rivaling anything produced in the same period in Europe, the cathedrals were beautifully crafted, cavernous symbols of American wealth married to high-Anglican love of architecture and symbolism. After the �quake, two of the churches had collapsed into a fault line running beneath the city. Mayor Kroll had appealed to the Wayne Foundation in a request to fund the restoration of the cathedrals. Bruce had refused, choosing instead to open two free clinics and a low-rent housing complex on the same ground once occupied by Our Lady of Sorrow and St. Thomas�s. Bruce did not share his ancestor�s faith in faith.

The young boy driving the Ford pulled to a stop then swung the car around in a three-point turn, executing the move swiftly and with assurance. He backed the car up, then came to a stop. Nightwing, Catwoman and Batman sat silently for a moment, waiting for their doors to open.

�What now?� Dick asked. Selina shrugged, looking to Bruce. Batman didn�t reply.

The Ford shook, rattling slightly, and Bruce realized they were on some sort of platform. Selina flinched, tensing beside him. He�d noticed her anxiety level rising exponentially since being shut into the cramped, windowless quarters of the Ford�s backseat. Was she claustrophobic? he wondered, rejecting the idea. Her occupation as a thief had required her to crawl through miles of air ducts and close herself in tiny rooms, working frantically as she picked a lock or broke into a vault. Nonetheless, Catwoman did not like small spaces.

They felt themselves lowering on some kind of elevator and above them, the sounds of the city faded. Bruce timed their decent, calculating the rate at which the Ford was being lowered. They were at least a mile underground before the lift lurched to a halt. A few seconds of silence, and then the front doors of the car opened. Footsteps, then the Mexican girl appeared at the back door, holding it open for them. Batman stepped out, mindful of his cape. Selina bounded out next, stepping lightly out of the car and blinking in the darkness. Nightwing was last and Dick let out a long, low whistle. They looked at the elevator shaft above them, soaring into the sky. The shaft had been cut deep into the earth and even with the binocular setting in his cowl activated, Batman could just barely make out the pulley system operating miles above their heads. The shaft was faintly illuminated with red becons every thirty feet or so. The platform on which the Ford had been sitting was simply a slab of concrete anchored by cables. Selina shivered. She would avoid, at all costs, another ride on the fragile-looking platform.

Batman turned to survey their surroundings. Walls of shale and limestone had been shaped by the �quake into caverns. The elevator shaft was man-made, Bruce was certain, but the caverns were recent natural developments. A major opening to their left yawned dark and forbidding. Batman caught the scent of decay rising from the cavern. The Mexican girl led them forward in a different direction, up a slight incline into another tunnel lighted with more red beacons. The two other girls and the boy took the rear, Batman, Nightwing and Catwoman securely in the middle. The passage was dark, defying even their starlight lenses which couldn�t compensate with the red glare of the beacons. Some sort of filter, Batman realized. Their nightvision was supposed to be useless.

They walked for a long time in the dim red light, feet scraping against raw earth. Their footsteps echoed off the cavern walls and sometimes a faint sound of other voices would reach them. The twisting tunnel rounded a sharp curve and finally they stepped into a room filled with light.

The cavern was enormous, the rock ceiling some 180ft above them. Stale, recycled air filled the cave and bright lights blazed from fixtures set deep in the walls. All around them, people milled. Adolescents mostly, perhaps a hundred of them, all moving with purpose. They barely spared their strange costumed visitors a second glance. Most of them were dressed in rags and all wore a thick coating of grime due to their residence underground. But they did not look unhappy. Batman noted they looked well-fed, and most of the girls laughed and joked with each other in small groups. A group of boys were playing an improvised game of soccer near the cavern entrance. He estimated their ages ranged from five or six to twenty. He glimpsed a few of the older girls holding small children.

The Mexican girl led them on through the crowd. Shelters began to take shape, forcing them into a narrow aisle running between cardboard and plastic huts. The shelters resembled those favored by the homeless living beneath the RKM Bridge or out on the wide plains near the airport, sheets of plastic and metal covering walls of flimsy boxes and propped up with whatever was available. This was a permanent squatters camp, miles below the surface with no discernable source of water or sanitation facilities. He hadn�t even known it existed. The amount of shelters indicated there were at least three hundred people living down here, filling the entire cavern with a warren of improvised homes.

The girl drew them on and Batman realized that their other escorts had fallen away. Selina and Dick were scanning the cavern in seeming amazement, taking in all the children and their living conditions. Bruce had been to third-world countries where squatterstowns like these were commonplace, an entire civilization living out of what amounted to little more than a waste dump. It was a strange sight in America but would have looked at home in Brazil or Mexico City. He told himself he had seen worse.

Finally they came to the end of the pathway between the blocks of shelters. Catacombs were set into the rock wall at the north end of the cave, their entrances covered by old blankets and sheets. The Mexican girl held up her hand, a clear message to wait. She disappeared behind a curtain and Bruce strained to hear what it was she was saying.

A moment later she emerged. �You will come with me,� she said simply, taking a weaving path along the rock wall.

�Not that we have much of a choice,� Selina muttered, hating the way the air smelled. She cast her eyes behind them as the Mexican girl led them down the path, catching sight of a small group of children watching them go. The kids regarded them seriously and one little girl, standing a bit apart from the others, raised her hand to wave at Selina. Before Selina could respond, they disappeared behind a bend in the rock wall.

The Mexican girl led them into another cavern, this one much smaller. It was a cistern, a source of water deep underground. Light reflected from a torch on the wall danced off the water, casting the cave in a shimmering blue glow. �Wait here,� the Mexican girl ordered, heading out of the cave. Nightwing whispered something to Batman, who shook his head. Catwoman folded her arms, looking into the cistern. The water was clear, deep and cold, extending miles into the earth.

The Mexican girl reappeared, followed by another girl. Jessica Bradshaw.

She was older, obviously, and her face had lost its girlish softness. The frizzy red hair was gone, replaced by a thick braid hanging over her shoulder. Jessica nodded at them and when she spoke, Batman noted her braces were gone as well. She still resembled the shy, unassuming girl in her Missing Persons file, but Jessica was a woman now. A dangerous one.

�Impressed?� she asked them all. Catwoman, Nightwing and Batman regarded her with blank stares. She smiled, as if at some private joke. �Neither am I. We�ve been working for months to prepare for your visit, but you�re not the sort of people who are easily impressed. I told them it was useless��

The Mexican girl shrugged, her face still cold and closed. �It was worth the effort,� she said slowly, her accent running soft through her tone. �It made the children happy. They needed it.�

�What is this all about, Jessica?� Batman asked sharply. Jessica looked at him, then turned to dismiss the Mexican girl.

�It�s alright, Maria. He won�t hurt me.�

�You�re sure?� Maria asked, her posture indicating her disbelief.

�I�m positive,� Jessica replied, eyeing Batman. �We�re on the same side.�

Maria nodded reluctantly, then exited the cave. Jessica squared her stance, her hands clasped in front of her. �I�m not Jessica Bradshaw anymore,� she informed them. �They call me Miss Misery now.�

Batman didn�t react. It wasn�t important what she called herself, only what her intentions were. �What are you doing, Jessica?� he asked her softly. She crossed the cave, coming to stand before Selina.

�To think we were so worried about you. Such a little thing,� Jessica said, her eyes sweeping over Catwoman from head to toe. Selina folded her arms. Jessica whirled, eyes focusing on Nightwing for only a moment before returning her attention to Batman.

�I want to negotiate for the release of my people,� she said, surprising him. Batman stepped backward as she came forward, not wanting her to touch him. �Your Wayne Foundation can help them, do for them what I cannot.�

�That�s what this meeting was about?� Batman repeated. �You want to help those children?�

�I�m not a monster,� Jessica said defensively. �And I know you�re afraid of me. But their part in this will be over soon and I don�t want them hurt.�

�What does that mean?� Nightwing asked.

Jessica sighed. �Come with me.�

They followed her out of the cave up a steep incline. Jessica was quiet as they walked and Batman felt some of his fear dissipating. She wasn�t Ted Kolby. The future hadn�t driven her mad, at least not in an obvious way. He�d dealt with enough insane criminals to know that she should be ranting by now about her evil plans for world domination. Jessica Bradshaw was what she had always been: just a scared kid from Bristol.

They came to a stop on a ledge and they turned, the entire cavern spread out before them. From this height the shelters looked small, orderly, the bodies weaving in and out between them with the nervous energy of youth. �We call it the Court of Miracles,� Jessica told them, spreading her hands wide.

Batman nodded. From The Hunchback of Notre Dame. A scrap of the novel came to him then, as he watched the children below. He stepped back from the edge, staring at Jessica. �Where beggars walk and blind men see.�

Jessica nodded. �Remember what the poet said when the gypsy king first showed him the Court of Miracles?�

�"If I exist, does this exist? If this exists, do I exist?"� Batman recited.

�Hugo loved existential crisis,� Jessica shrugged. �The point is, whatever they were on the surface, they�re different down here. Reborn.� She pointed to the children running through the city below.

�Why are they all here?� Nightwing asked, crouched on the lip of the ledge.

Jessica kept her eye on the children, sighing regretfully. �Revenge.�

�On who?� Selina asked without looking up. Jessica glanced at her, then back at Batman.

�He knows,� she said simply. �Let him explain it to you.�

Dick and Selina looked at Bruce questioningly and he frowned. �They were abused? As you were?�

Jessica nodded slowly, pain or perhaps disgust flaring momentarily in her eyes. �Not all of them were molested. But yes: every one of those children was abused, neglected, unwanted by their natural parents. Some of them fled from state care. Others were abandoned. They flow into Gotham as a tidal wave. Wait long enough at the Port Authority bus station, you see them come.�

Batman grunted slightly in agreement. He�d done more than enough surveillance at Port Authority. How often had he seen a young girl, alone in the world, step off the bus and be approached by a man who promised her he�d help her become a star, if only she would pose for a few pictures. Others would offer her a room for the night, food, some getting-started money, only there was this favor they needed her to do�

Vultures. And among them, Jessica Bradshaw must have been waiting, collecting the children for her own reasons.

�And your revenge�� Selina prompted. Jessica looked again at Batman.

�Why do men kill women, Bruce?� she asked him. He didn�t react at her use of his given name when he was wearing the mask. There was now no longer any question that she knew everything about them. He didn�t speak and Jessica frowned in displeasure.

She addressed Catwoman. �Why do men kill women?�

�Greed,� Selina supplied. �Or jealousy. For money, for sex. Sometimes just because they can.�

Jessica nodded. �And why do women kill men?�

Batman hoped that Selina would reply. She was watching him intently, unwilling or unable to answer. He replied softly. �Revenge.�

�Not that we�re making grand generalizations,� Nightwing put in, standing. �You know that there are a thousand different reasons why people hurt each other. I hope you�re not saying one reason is more justified than another.�

Jessica shook her head, angry. �Tell me that after your father has-�

�That�s why those kids are here?� Selina cut her off, not wanting to listen to any of Miss Misery�s rationalizations. �Part of your revenge against your father?�

�I would have thought you�d approve of his death,� Jessica said, turning to Selina. �I know what he did to you.�

�Yeah. Thanks for that Kodak reminder,� Selina muttered. �I put that behind me years ago. Then that picture turns up and-�

�What are you doing with the kids?� Batman interrupted. �Have you been using them to-�

Jessica shook her head. �When you get back to the surface, your Martian friend will hand you a list of names I�ve given to him, a list of dead men and women. Some of them died of natural causes. Heart attacks, illnesses, that sort of thing. Others were victims of accidents. Car crashes, suicides�there are a thousand different ways for people to die without another person being responsible. Investigate the names on that list. Most of them were the reason these children came to the Court of Miracles,� Jessica told them, sweeping her hands out towards the shelters. �Pimps, drug dealers� Parents.�

Selina shook her head sadly, thinking of something Holly had said to her once. Every girl on the street had a name for her first pimp: she called him �daddy�.

Bruce kept his face impassive. Jessica Bradshaw had admitted to murder. He had to take her down.

�I know what you�re thinking,� Jessica said bluntly. �You think I belong in a prison.�

�Or Arkham,� Bruce told her through clenched teeth.

�Maybe so,� Jessica shrugged. �Tell me that those people, the ones who died, deserved to live while these kids are down here. I pulled them out of massage parlors and halfway houses and state orphanages from all over the country. Not all of them came to me on the bus. Consider what those people did to these children! Now tell me they deserved to live.�

Nightwing looked again at the children down in the cavern, then shook his head. �We can�t make those kind of decisions. It isn�t up to us to decide who gets to live and who dies.�

It was an old mantra among the Bat family: Bruce had first explained it to Dick when he was eleven. None of them would ever take a life, not even the Joker�s. Their dedication to preserving life, any life, was the cost of their mission. And Jessica knew she would never be able to offer up an argument to shake their belief in in the sanctity of human life.

�And what about the children they haven�t touched yet?� she asked softly. Bruce and Dick stared at her. Selina found herself nodding slowly.

�You think they stop with one child? You think abuse ends in a generation? Or that a child molester�s appetites are ever sated? These people pass their sicknesses on to others like a disease.� Jessica closed her eyes, breathing deeply. �Do you know that Philip Larkin poem?�

Selina and Dick shook their heads. Jessica narrowed her eyes, looking at Bruce. She recited, in a calm, clear voice:

�They fuck you up, your mum and dad.

�You believe that?� Dick asked, incredulous.

�I�ve lived it,� Jessica snapped at him. �So has she,� she said, pointing to Selina. �So have you.�

Dick flinched, then glanced at Bruce. �He didn�t-�

�How often did he tell you he loved you?� Jessica asked. �Or that he thought of you as a son? What has he told you about why you came to live with him in the first place? You had to find out from a servant why you�re even a part of his life!�

Dick stepped back a little. Maybe she was a telepath. �He�s a good person,� Dick sighed, tired of this old argument. �He did the best he could. Maybe he shouldn�t have taken me in, but-�

�And Jason Todd?� Jessica asked, glaring at Bruce. �Or Barbara Gordon? He�s hurt them all. Tell me that you and the others didn�t inherit his misery. Jason would still be alive if he hadn�t-�

�You�re right,� Bruce said, cutting her off, the pain of her words slicing through him like a slow, dull blade. Dick�s eyes widened.

�Bruce, don�t think like that!� he exclaimed, not sure how convincing he sounded. Barbara had made the same argument to him just a few nights ago. They fought a lot about Jason, and about Bruce. He continued, moved by the love he felt for the man he thought of as his father. �He was a good dad,� Dick said softly. �To all of us. We turned out okay.�

�Sure,� Jessica replied, rolling her eyes. �Barbara is in a wheelchair. Jason is in the ground. And you and Tim are so desperate for his love and approval that you�d do anything for him even though you know he�d never acknowledge your efforts.�

�I�m not going to argue about this,� Dick said flatly. �You possess some great physic power? Then you know I love him.� He looked up at Bruce who regarded him carefully through the opaque eyes of Batman�s mask. �And you know that, whatever mistakes he�s made, he did the best he could. He never hurt us intentionally. What happened to Jason and Barbara wasn�t his fault. He has nothing in common with the people you say hurt those kids down there.�

�Has the boy managed to convince you?� Jessica asked, her head lolling towards Bruce. He didn�t answer.

�What about you?� she asked Selina when she saw Bruce�s response wouldn�t be forthcoming.

�I�I don�t know,� Selina said, her voice thick and strange. She was still watching the children below in their city of plastic and cardboard, thinking that a place like this would have been her salvation when she was younger. It would have meant a home. And a chance for revenge.

Jessica returned her attention to Batman. �I�ve seen the end, you know. And it wasn�t what Ted Kolby said it would be. What did he tell you? �In the end, there�s only me�? Phuh,� Jessica snorted. �I�ve seen my death. And yours. Want to know how it ends?�

Dick eyed Bruce anxiously. He was behaving strangely since they�d come up here to look at the Court of Miracles. Quiet, thoughtful, lacking the anger and clear moral imperative of the Bat. He should have arrested Jessica by now and set plans in motion to care for the children below. Dick began to wonder if Bruce was buying Jessica�s argument.

�We�re not interested,� Dick told her. �I got him a mortality clock for Christmas. He knows he�s gonna live to be a hundred.�

�He dies alone, a broken old man in an empty house,� Jessica said. �I hardly need special powers to see that for him.�

�You�re way off, lady,� Dick said quickly. �Bruce-�

�He hurts people,� she said, speaking as if the rest of them weren�t there. �He pushes them away. People who do that end up alone. There will be a day when everything else falls away and the world dies. I�ve seen that too. But I know Bruce Wayne dies alone with his obsession. You might die an old man, safe in bed surrounded by family and friends,� she said to Dick, �but that fate is not his. I�ve seen him die a thousand different ways, but I know the death he will finally chose for himself.�

�What is it?� Bruce asked hoarsely. Dick wanted to slap him but the look in Selina�s eyes stilled his hand.

Jessica closed her eyes and she seemed suddenly very far away. After a moment, she looked at Bruce. �You want to be in Crime Alley when it happens. In the place of your nightmares.�

Bruce nodded. Jessica continued.

�It won�t end that way for you. There will be a long illness, and pain. Everything will be lost. No easy death for you, surrounded by the relics of your great mission. Only regret.�

Bruce closed his eyes. He wanted to cry out, to scream out over the Court of Miracles. Instead he forced his voice into a soft whisper, knowing anything more would be his ruin.

�Is this my life?� he asked her softly.

Jessica shrugged, the braid of hair flopping over her shoulder. �You chose your path. Be grateful for that, at least. None of these children were given that chance.�

Bruce felt Selina�s touch on his hand. She had removed her mask and now locked her eyes to his, holding his large hand in her own small, delicate one. �And my death?� she asked Jessica. �If you�re telling fortunes, may as well do mine.�

�I can�t see your destiny,� Jessica admitted, knowing it didn�t matter. It was too late for them to do anything with that particular information.

�That was why you sent Huntress and George Flannery after me?� Selina guessed. Jessica nodded. Selina turned to her and launched a perfect right hook. With lightening speed, Jessica blocked the blow. She had known that was coming, at least.

Selina shook her hand, fists curled in rage. �You fucking coward!� she screamed at the younger woman. �You tried to destroy my life! Why? Because I was some rouge piece on your big chessboard? I was never a threat to you!�

�Uncertainty is the biggest threat there is,� Jessica replied evenly. �Ask the Batman.�

Selina turned, done with the whole crazy situation. She stalked down the winding path leading up to the ledge, furious. She paused at the mouth of the little cistern cave, breathing heavily. Miss Misery�s words had frightened Bruce, she could see. And Dick. Maybe it was because they�d hit so close to the truth. Selina thought of the way Batman had seemed to her at first, some boy scout out to save the world. The first truly decent man she had ever met.

That had changed when he�d taken on the kid. Robin was an unsettling addition to their nightly skirmishes, simply because she didn�t know what to think of Batman�s new brightly-colored sidekick. Rumor around the underworld had it that Robin was Batman�s son and when Batgirl had appeared, Selina�s fellow criminals had surmised that the stork had deposited another Bat on the doorstep of Gotham City. To think, all that time, he�d been adopting kids, training them, deliberately turning them into costumed vigilantes�

Making them part of her dark world.

Selina sank down by the pool and sobbed, great, heart-wrenching cries wracking her shoulders. She felt as though the tears would never stop.

****************

The small group on the ledge stood silently after Selina�s departure. Batman turned to Jessica. �Why did you want me to see this?�

�I wanted Bruce Wayne to see this, not Batman.�

�Why?� he demanded.

She smiled. �Because for what these children are facing, they need a social worker, not a vigilante. At least not yet. Get the kids out of here,� she begged. �I needed them close to find the people who were responsible for their presence on the streets. I returned some of them to their parents. Others I placed in state care because I knew they would be adopted. But these�� she cast her eyes downward. �They�re building prisons for them now. Orphanages and graveyards. There�s nothing we can do to stop that from happening.�

�I don�t believe in damaged goods,� Batman growled.

Jessica nodded. �Of course you don�t. You wouldn�t be a hero if you did. But the one contribution these kids have made to society was to give me the knowledge I needed to make sure what happened to them would never happen to anyone else. Do what you can for them. Try your best.�

�What happens to you?� Dick asked. Jessica shook her head.

�Time for that later. I think we should get some rest. The children will be moved out and then Wayne Construction can fill this entire cavern with concrete.�

The Mexican girl reappeared at Jessica�s side. �Take them to get some sleep,� Jessica ordered. �Ring the bell for night.�

She nodded and Bruce and Dick followed her back down to the floor of the cavern.