LOOTING DC #19. Arkham Woods 2
The bikes stopped sharp. The path ahead was all loose stone and sharp drops - no way forward without breaking something important.
They'd already pushed their luck riding this deep into Arkham Woods.
Artemis scanned the undergrowth. Then the branches. Still nothing. She kept looking.
Cheshire glanced over. "You're not thinking of going back empty-handed, are you?"
A pause.
"You know how he gets when he's disappointed."
Artemis caught the angle. She got what Cheshire really meant.
She exhaled.
"What'll it take?" Artemis said, eyes still on the trees.
Cheshire blinked. "What?"
"For you to trust me."
Cheshire smirked like she hadn't heard right. "Trust you? Come on. We're sisters. Aren't we?"
"Stop acting."
A beat of quiet.
"You don't make it easy," Cheshire said, dropping the act. "Given your history with them - who's to say you won't flip again the second someone whistles?"
"Water under the bridge," Artemis muttered, jaw tight. "Don't lump me in with those zealots."
Cheshire didn't bite. "You're the one tossing your name around."
Artemis turned. "What?"
"The Spider," Cheshire said. "You gave him your name, didn't you?"
Artemis frowned, searching her memory.
"What happened to keeping your identity a secret?" Cheshire asked, voice flat, tired.
"I didn't give anyone my name," Artemis replied, sharper than she intended.
"Not what I heard," Cheshire said, straightening on her bike like she was bracing for a lecture. "You haven't forgotten what's at stake here... have you, sister?"
"It doesn't matter," Artemis cut in, the frustration thinning into clarity. "We're not going back without his head. Are we?"
She looked her sister dead-on.
"He's a loose end," she said. "And we both know what happens to loose ends."
Cheshire tilted her head, just a bit. There was something like pride in her voice when she said, "Well... that put some fire in you."
Artemis returned to scanning the woods. Her tone shifted - cleaner now, focused.
"He's hurt. Running on fumes. And there's an arrow in his back. Even with those webs, he'll need time to catch his breath."
She looked toward the rocky terrain.
"I'll take the left," Artemis said, already revving the bike forward. "You cut right."
She didn't wait for confirmation.
She hit the incline fast, then launched. The tires left the rocks, the bike dropped - and she vaulted off, bow in hand, a cable-tethered arrow already loosed toward the opposite cliff.
Cheshire watched the stunt from her seat, unimpressed.
"Show-off," she muttered.
Then reached for her blades.
Let Artemis take the skyline. She'd work better in the shadows.
🕸️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕸️
Jake had made almost no progress removing the arrow from his back when he sensed movement at the cave's entrance.
Then came the soft snap of a bowstring.
"Don't move."
He froze. Quiet. But thinking.
The moonlight didn't need to fall across her figure for him to know who it was - bow drawn, arrow nocked. The voice had already kicked his heart into gear.
"Oh. It's you again," Jake said, masking the exhaustion in his voice with casual breath. "I was wondering when we'd cross paths again. Though... I didn't think it'd be like this."
A pause.
"Well... I did think something close," he added, still talking. Rambling, really. Something he'd noticed happened more lately - whenever nerves, adrenaline, or doubt started creeping in. He didn't used to be like this.
Maybe it came with the spider powers.
Something to work on.
"You're bruised, exhausted, and injured," Artemis said, ignoring every word.
The mist from the waterfall clung to her hood, veiling her just enough to make her feel distant. Mythic.
It worked.
Jake went still. Quiet.
"Even if - by some miracle - you dodge the first three arrows," she said, voice cold but level, "you're not dodging the tenth."
He looked again - and saw them. Not just one arrow drawn. Multiple. All aligned. All ready.
His mind jumped back to that rooftop. When she fired like a machine. No hesitation. No wasted motion.
She wasn't bluffing.
Somehow, this was peak Artemis despite the early timeline.
Jake exhaled through his nose. The weight of the situation settled.
"Okay," he said. "So... what now?"
Her eyes narrowed. "Who else knows my identity?"
Jake went quiet, confused for a moment as he tried to process the question.
The real question was - who didn't know? She used her real name as her secret identity. The bigger mystery was why more villains hadn't figured it out sooner. It wasn't exactly a well-guarded secret.
But wait.
Things were different now. Artemis was... a bad guy? So she probably didn't go by Artemis anymore. And Jake - yeah - he'd used her name in front of Cheshire.
Which meant... oh. Okay.
"No one," Jake said coolly. "Just me."
It was a clean answer. Honest. And maybe dangerous. If she was here to clean up loose ends, that might've just signed his death warrant.
Not like he would let her have the first move, however. He tensed, ready to act.
But she didn't react the way he expected.
"How did you find out?" she asked.
Jake blinked. "What's the big deal? I know tons of people. And I'm really not in the mood to explain how my powers work."
"Besides," Jake continued. "I'm more curious whether you'd really take my head."
Thwip.
Jake moved first, shooting a web toward her bowstring, aiming to yank the weapon sideways before she could react.
But Artemis was faster. She released the grip, letting multiple arrows fly with surgical timing - one high, two wide to corral his movement.
Jake twisted, shoulder and back screaming. He flipped sideways against the cave wall, hands skidding against damp stone as a shaft grazed his ribs.
"Bad call," Artemis murmured.
Neither could see the other directly - only silhouettes and breath.
Jake kept moving, ducking, rebounding off walls. His spider-sense was on fire - arrows slicing air, stone cracking where they'd missed.
She was serious.
'Fighting in the darkness of a cave with someone hellbent on taking my head... Why does that bring back memories?'
He tried a False Thread - a web-line feint aimed at her neck - but Artemis didn't bite. She dodged clean, planted, and fired again. Every arrow was a message:
Keep moving or die.
Her pace was unrelenting. Jake could feel it in the rhythm of her shots, in the pressure behind each dodge.
She was keeping him on the defensive.
He tried again - a double-web to trap her bow - but even half-blind in a cave, she spun low, ducked, loosed two more shafts, and disappeared into the shadows.
Another hit.
This one lodged in his thigh. Not deep, but enough.
He hissed through gritted teeth. "Okay. That's at least number three. You keeping count?"
She didn't answer.
He pushed through the soreness gripping his limbs. Still webbing. Still maneuvering. But the gap wasn't closing. Artemis made sure of that.
She didn't want to give him a chance. She understood that one slip-up was all it took. Even injured, she knew he was still dangerous up close.
Weirdly, that excited him.
And yet, the thought of how they got here disturbed him.
He was pretty sure that the last time they crossed paths, things had ended well. So for Artemis to come for his head - hot-headed, insulted that he knew her name - that was a slap in the face.
Then again, this world was really good at those.
Who hadn't tried to kill Jake since he landed here?
Sure, he'd stirred most of them. But still... why Artemis?
She was the last person he expected to be aiming for his neck.
Another arrow embedded in the cave ceiling above him - close enough to shake dust loose onto his suit.
Jake let himself laugh, though it came out breathless.
This couldn't just be about him.
He didn't know much about girls, but he understood misdirected anger when he saw it. There had to be something else running underneath all this - something bigger than Artemis working with Cheshire and Sportsmaster. Something eating at her.
There was only one way to find out.
She shifted to the left.
Then he made his move.
A purposeful misstep - his webline caught on a jagged bit of rock and snapped.
He hit the ground hard. Groaned.
Artemis didn't hesitate.
She was on him in two heartbeats.
No more arrows.
Now it was blades.
Jake saw the twin gleam of short sabers - one high, one low. He rolled, barely avoiding the downward strike, but the second caught him at the side of the neck - not the edge, but the flat - and cracked his head against the cave floor.
The cave spun.
Then came the real blow: a pressure strike - low, stomach, then ribs. Fast, blinding pressure-point accuracy that was raw and all too familiar.
"Oh. Not this again," he groaned, his limbs weighing heavier and slower, his body wobbling from the strain. "Curious to know where you learned that."
She didn't answer. Just stood over him.
Jake lay there, muscles stiff and locked. The soreness doubled. Then tripled for safe measure.
She raised one hand. One blade reversed in her grip.
Jake looked up at her, smiling beneath the mask.
"Hate to go this early, but... go ahead."
He tilted his neck to the side, exposing the narrow space between his mask and suit collar.
"Take my head."
The air held.
Silent. Drenched in cave-water and tension.
Her blade hovered above his throat.
Jake cursed himself silently. His mind spiraled.
What if she actually did it you idiot!!!
He couldn't tell if this was bravado... or a death wish.
There was only one way to find out.
Streak: Day 2/10
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