Sunset in Gotham

[seymoure]

He sat at the computer, breathing hard.

The coffee machine to his right dinged. His hand reached out to it, while his eyes never left the screen. As always, he burnt his tongue on the first sip.

“Damn,” he cursed under his breath.

He hated doing unthinking things that got him hurt. The Old Man never did that. That was why his career stretched from the 30’s though the 90’s. Most guys would have let it drop 20 years before he did, but he was still the best in the business when he had that final fight.

He was in his 50’s and still was thought of as “The Kid.” He had had every major bone in his body broken at least once, just like the Old Man.

He did have more Martial Arts training than his senior, but his body mass would never be as great. Just that physical advantage counted for a lot. He would never be a heavy weight, just a middle weight in a world of massive enemies. But he had done well on his own, even out of his weight class.

Hell, he had been doing this since he was a kid.

It had been great back then. Most of it was more like a game than the life and death struggle it often was.

He was the third one to take his position, and many thought he was the best. His scientific skills were second to none, as was his computer savvy.

Yet he was always filled with doubt.

He had been alone for so long. The Boss passed six years after he “retired.” He came out of retirement, and that was what got him killed. He did it because “The Kid” had been captured and he was the ransom.

The Valet had been gone two years before that. He had always looked old, as long as the kid knew him. He looked like a walking skeleton for the last year of his life. He could have been on the other side. The bad guys got more unreal the more time passed.

Now the Kid was alone. He’d never gotten married, nor even had a long-term girlfriend. Of course they all wanted to say it proved the two of them were gay, but that was nonsense.

The only girl he had been with turned out to be from the other side. That really broke his heart.

So he committed to a full time war against those forces the old man had fought so long, so fervently.

He didn’t know how long he could keep going. But he couldn’t leave the town helpless. He had never had a sidekick, ‘cause he was the sidekick.

Now there was no one to follow up.

The first sidekick had gone off to college, got an identity of his own and had a good career. He was lost during the summer (and riots) of 2010.

The second sidekick had bought it in the line of duty too.

Now, it was just him.

He blew on the coffee.

How long could he hang on?

The computer screen blinked, and the alarm buzzed. It showed him the face he expected.

“Damn,” he thought, “That joker never seems to age at all.”

THE END

© C. Wayne Owens