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The Batcave was nearly empty. Most were out on patrol or working in different cities, or away from home entirely. The Bat himself was in along with a less frequent visitor of the Flash.
Both their gazes intently upon the screen of the batcomputer. “You’re saying someone is opening wormholes?”
“I think more than that.” Furious typing could be heard as Batman typed away at the computer zooming into a surge of energy on a screen of the globe.
“That’s a lot of energy, more than teleportation.” Barry noted, twiddling his thumb behind his back.
“I think they’re time portals. Enough energy to account for time and space, but the tech is sloppy, creating super breaches of energy.”
“Can we track it? Find an energy source?”
“I’m working on it, and having the watchtower computers set to automatically track what trails it leaves.”
“The other question at hand-“ Barry started, his voice tense.
“What’s coming through the portals?” Batman finished for him.
“I’ve gathered surveillance footage from the areas where the portals sprang, most of the data is corrupted due to disturbance. There’s also no way for me to find out when and where the other end of the portal has sprung.”
“Okay so, how are we going about this? Why do you need my help?”
Batman didn’t answer at first, merely sat back in his chair thinking. “We’ll need to find whatever came through the portals, either we find them first and use the connection to find the person making the portals or we find the source and then deduce their portal victims.”
“I think we should work the current portals first until a new one occurs so we can track it.”
Batman nods, he’s solemn.
Flash gets it. Whatever came through the portals, he hoped was harmless.
—-
It’s at a bar in downtown Gotham where the first possibly related distress call comes in. Batman doesn’t have much time for stopping bar fights these days. But one of the kids mics in and tells him he should listen to the police radio.
Off the radio he picks up pure panic, some rookie cop calling in the “bar fight”. Screeching about Two-Face shooting patrons. The Bat doesn’t need to check to know this could not possibly be Two-Face, unless some kind of secret Arkham Breakout happened in the last ten minutes.
He speeds there as fast as he can in the Batmobile, thinking. The portal could have transported a past or future version of two-face into their present. Unless this was just some freaky look-alike situation.
From the other side of town he doesn’t get there fast enough. Neither do any other cops for that matter. He arrives at the scene to find a bar less empty but full of mostly unharmed patrons. He spots a young police officer holding pressure against someone’s wound. Bullet to the leg.
Everyone else seemed vaguely unbothered. Not that there were too many left but, the ones that remained showed little fear for whatever occurred or the cop and wounded man on the ground.
Batman swooped down to assist, helping to bandage the man’s wound. “What happened?” He asks gruffly, watching as the cop’s hands tremble with every movement anyone makes.
“Was in for a routine check, found some guys arguing. One of them, I-I think it was Two-Face.”
“That warn’t no Two-Face.” One of the guys scoffed from the bar. The bartender nodded in solemn agreement.
“Nasty scar on his right side, Two-Face got scars on the left.” The bar sitter then clarified.
Batman could hear sirens of cop cars and an ambulance approaching. He stood up. “What else?”
The cop cleared his throat. “He was dressed funny, talking funny I guess. Like an old western cowboy.”
Cowboy? Could this be, Jonah? Or some random cowboy? Time travel or just some weirdo into role play?
There was a buzz in his ear, Oracle paging him. “Bruce, there’s another portal open right now.”
“Where? Get Flash there now.”
The comm was silent for a moment and Batman began to slink into the back room, eager to take a peak and see if the security camera he saw in the corner was functional.
“I think you’d better get there too.” Oracle finally came back in, “It’s just on the edge of the narrows, you’re really close.”
“Okay.” Bats took only a second to grab the tape out from the recording room and disappear from the building without a word.
With the tape stowed away in the Batmobile he rushed to the scene of the new portal, calculating the probability for Flash to already be there and the likelihood of them finding whatever the portal was transporting.
Rearing down a few blocks and turning some corners he was able to drive to the spot within minutes all along Oracle reading him energy output numbers as he got closer. By the time he got there the portal was completely gone, but there was still a chance for something else to be there.
As he stepped out of the Batmobile there was a static buzz of gushing wind as Flash seemingly materialized next to him. “Go in yet?” He asked.
“No.”
“Start on the perimeter.” Batman ordered. “The portal was in this building.” He himself leapt up to a first story window.
Flash scouted the first floor from outside within seconds moving to go in, searching quickly but not with superspeed, he’d heard enough of Batman’s criticism of him shifting things in the crime scene.
Batman scouted his floor, it was dark, the building mostly empty and abandoned, only some old stacked chairs and half filled filing cabinets left in the rooms.
Oracle was still buzzing in his ear, “the sensors in your suit are picking up some residual energy.”
“Can you find the source?”
“Working on it.”
Bruce knelt down, the floor was covered in dust, he scuttled along carefully looking for disturbances. The Flash came near flying up the stairs and stopped at the top step.
“I’ve got shoe prints. Step carefully.”
Flash angled over, tiptoeing along the edge of the room and stepping behind Batman.
“Two different men, both in boots.” Then he paused, pointing to a mark in the floor.
“Looks like our cowboy had a tussle, like a spur dented the floor.” Barry notes. “What do you make of the other tread? It's pretty unique.”
“Some kind of military boot. Oracle run the tread through a search see what you can-“
“Already did, it most closely matches a few lines of German issue jackboots during the late 1930s.”
“Great now we’ve got the Gestapo in the mix.” Barry says, half joking, half worried.
Batman grunts, standing back up and moves to follow the tracks, seeing where they went. There was indeed some kind of tussle, before both trails separated and then walked out, side by side.
“Whatever happened they sorted it out, left together.” Batman speaks slowly, unsure what to think. “Oracle keep an eye out for any reports featuring a cowboy and world war two soldier.”
“On it.”
—-
Even when he puts another bill on the table the hand doesn’t leave his shoulder. “Hey what kind of broke ass dust money is this?” The man near spits in his ear.
“That’s a hefty chunk of change fella, best be you leave me alone now.” Jonah answers, taking a swig of his drink.
This man was aggressive, his hands all over a lady next to him, his grip on her arm rougher the more he attempted to get money out of Jonah. She whimpered as he continued rumbling.
“Five dollars?” Clearly the man had some problem with this, Jonah’s head was still exploding with figuring out all the intricacies of this time period.
He’d been in the modern city for a couple days now, fell straight through some glowing hole and landed in a wet stone alley. So far he knew the where and when, he knew not of the why or most importantly, how the hell he was gonna get home.
This Gotham city, he’d heard about, in one of the northern union states. The place was crawling with lost souls both dead and alive. Every man and lady that walked the streets did so in insanity or fear. All completely ignorant to the heaps of spirits left wandering, trapped to the earth and crawling along.
Many spoke to him, most begged, meaningless tasks and things that he had no time or place for. He wasn’t meant to be here. Only a lucky few sought to guide him, whispering to him that he should look behind him or follow the sun.
Now he was being urged to move, he noticed an officer enter the bar, young face, by no means a sheriff. That didn’t stop him from reaching for his holster.
He takes the gun out and angles it behind him in a swift motion, shooting the pestering man in the lower thigh. His breath escaping in surprise, other people’s screams erupting over any noise of his own.
Half the bar sprinting to get out the other hunkering down, eyes on the rookie cop, as he fumbles with his sidearm, Jonah doesn’t give him any time to use it.
He leaps out from his seat and disappears out the back door. Following the pointing fingers of the ghouls lined up in the streets. Now they don’t tell him, only show him, he needs to go somewhere and fast.
He winds down, running like he hasn’t in a while. This would be a lot easier with his horse, he thinks, but then again there’s no open ground around here, all the buildings tightly stacked high into the sky.
Things are silent as he reaches an old building, old he thinks, though considering the year it’s probably younger than him. He can see a light above the first floor, crouches through an unlocked window, treading dusty floorboards and concrete patches as he ascends the stairs just in time to see a similar glow hole opening.
It was just like the one that brought him here, he thought for a moment about jumping up into it, but he had a strong doubt it would bring him where he wanted to go. He could see souls wavering, holding on, as if something were about to pull them in. But instead, something finally came out.
The hole was only ever large enough to transport a single person through, not any great feat whatsoever but through a person came. A man falling chest up to the floor.
The man coughed, sitting up with a righteous jump, Jonah put his hand back to his gun. And waited.
The man turned, noticing the other. And scrambled to stand. “Wer sind sie?” He hissed.
Jonah raised an eyebrow. Still unmoving. The other man spoke again. “Wer sind sie? Dein Hut, ihr seid Amerikan? Englisch? Speak English?” He spoke fast, nervous of the situation, Jonah had seen it before in soldiers.
“Yeah, speak English.” He replied gruff.
“Who are you? What was that?”
“We don’t got time for questions. Move along with me and I’ll tell you what I got.”
“Is this America?”
Jonah turned to walk out, they had to move, he could feel it, something was coming.
“Where are you going?”
“C’mon.”
“No.” The man growled.
Jonah turned back, and drew his pistol. “Come along now, I said we gotta move.” The man didn’t move, but something changed.
The hair on the back of his neck stood up, and he heard a growl behind him. He had the nerve to turn his head just the slightest degree. There was a huge wolf standing a few feet from him. Had that fallen through the portal too? He moved to attack it, firing a bullet straight into it, the animal howled.
“No!” The man leapt to him, struggling to pull the gun from him. The wolf lunged, taking a bite from his sleeve before he saw it more clearly, the animal had been shot clean through but was now obviously unharmed, it was translucent in nature, another spirit.
“Alright!” Jonah shouted, throwing his arms up.
The man loosened his grip and shouted something at the wolf. It leapt back and began to pace around as if waiting to strike as the man drew back. “You see the wolf?”
Jonah nodded, “again we can figure out each other’s deal in a minute, but we gotta leave now.”
The man seemed solemn, Jonah could see moonlight glinting off scars along his face. “Fine. Lead on.”
—-
“I am Major Hans von Hammer, Luftwaffe Ninety-Ninth.” The other soldier said, they walked the streets, getting as far from the portal as they could.
“Jonah Hex. I was a cavalry lieutenant, did a lot of bad things in the south.”
“That being in the United States?”
Hex nodded, “You some kind of European?”
“German.”
“What year?”
“The year, it is February 12th 1944.”
Jonah scoffed, Lincoln’s birthday. “You’ve just been dragged 80 years in the future.”
“Eighty? That would be 2024?”
“Believe so, I’m even further from home, where I come from it’s 1864.”
“Meine Güte. Why?”
They turned a corner, “I don’t know. Landed here a few days ago and been searching, the souls around here aren’t very helpful, led me to you at least.”
“You see souls? Ghosts?”
Another pert nod was Jonah’s only answer to that question, “We gotta keep moving.”
“Who hunts us?”
“You ask a helluva lotta questions.” Jonah hated fellas who asked too many questions.
“People need ask more questions in dangerous times.” Hans hated fickle answers.
“I don’t know who’s after us, but I figure we ought to move on.” Jonah’s hand adjusts the brim of his hat, Hans watches him curiously, it begins to sprinkle, the atmosphere dark.
As they move they stumble into a busier street, a few vehicles moving past, and some pedestrians speeding up their walks to outpace the rain.
“Are those cars? They are so… different.”
Jonah shrugged, he didn’t really get what a car was exactly, some kind of fancy wagon or mini steam engine running without the track.
A couple walking their way glance and glare in instant disapproval upon seeing them. Jonah assumed it’s about his scar, it always is. Instant distaste from others for his not so fine feature. But he’s proved wrong when one of the people shouts. “Take that shit off pal.”
They weren’t talking to him, they were directing at Hans. Under the orange tinted light from a street lamp they observed their clothes. Neither was dressed to fit in, Hans had a feeling in his chest, one that finally told him maybe his distaste for wearing the swastika had caught up to everyone else around him.
Hans tossed his hat into a can in the street, and removed the medal at his collar, slipping it into his pocket. “There. Enough of that.”
Jonah wondered, but he didn’t ask, wasn’t his place to know what future stuff was going on with this guy.
—-
This city they’re in, Gotham, Jonah called it, a big one in America. Despite having fought them twice he’d never been over here, never imagined it would be in the 2020s either, especially not accompanied by a cowboy from the 1860s. He had no idea what had happened to him, one minute he was at their base, hunkering in the cold, trying to ignore the excessive rambling from the other officers.
Then he was falling through the floor, falling several feet onto a concrete floor. Immediately getting discovered by this cowboy here.
The wolf was with them, keeping his distance but he was still there, lingering, following them. Hans didn’t like that, the wolf was only present in times of danger, whether sought on purpose or not. Right now they were technically trying to avoid trouble, but still the wolf followed. Jonah kept looking back to it, unnerved in his own way.
“Where are we going?”
“Don’t know.”
“We have walked a long time.”
He was met with only one of numerous gruff cowboy grunts.
“The spirits you follow…” Another question lingered on his tongue.
“How about that damn hound that’s been following you.” Jonah spat, he twirled some tobacco at his lip, annoyed.
“He seeks to protect us. He will not harm you.”
Jonah grunted again, “ain’t what I’m worried about.”
“He is unvisible to others. Except for when he strikes.”
“He ain’t invisible to me.”
“I suppose he must be a spirit in kind. These spirits, you say we are following them, how do they know where to lead?”
“They can sense hoodoo in the air, damned if I know, sure yer wolf senses it too.”
Hans looked back, the wolf was still there, he could scarcely see it now, its dark coat lost to the blackened streets, only its red eyes stood out amidst the shadows. “Maybe you are right.”
After another few moments of walking Jonah initiated a question for once. “Have any money on ya?”
“Money… no, even if I did, I think it would not work here.” Hans searched his pockets, he had his metal, he still had a sidearm at his hip, only a few rounds loaded. Some loose cigarettes as well but he didn’t feel like smoking any yet.
“I’m wasting all my shots and savings on a heap o’ nothin’, if we’re stuck here a while we need money. Folks ‘round here don’t take kindly to trading either.”
“You have been shooting people?” Hans quirked a brow. “What is the word… an outlaw? Are you an outlaw?”
“No. You’ve got a gun on your hip just like I do, you an outlaw?”
“No. But I would not shoot these people for something like that.”
“For survival?”
“It’s not like that.”
“It will be.” Hex’s ominous warning left the air silent and sour for a moment, quieting Hammer for another trek.
“Tell me, do you know if it is a time of peace or war here?”
“Dunno, I’ve heard talk about wars, in far away lands. Don’t think it’s good to meddle with knowing too much about the future though.”
“I do not think this is our future.”
“What’s that s’posed to mean,”
“We should both be dead by this time.”
“Yep.” Jonah’s voice a hush. “Hell I’ll be dead by your time.”
“We need to get back home.”
“Hm.”
——-
“Bruce.”
“Go.”
“Finally picked up some footage of our time traveling suspects.”
“Send it to the Batmobile Computer, I’ve also got a potential tape but I haven’t analyzed it yet. We're making our way through some of the neighborhoods.”
“I think you’ll want to see this one.”
Bruce slowed his drive, pulling the Batmobile into a smaller alley before idling to a stop in some shadows. His screen started to boot up, a black and white security tape from a storefront beginning to play, static slowly buzzing off the corners of the screen.
He could see pedestrians and cars idling in the distance of the frame. Then he saw as a new party entered the edge of the frame. At first they were facing away from the camera but their silhouettes were vastly defined. Both in long coats and unique vintage hats. They moved across the screen quickly, before freezing, stopping, there was no audio.
They shifted around, speaking to each other and others in the street. Batman could see their faces now, as clearly as the footage would allow for. He affirmed his earlier hypothesis, the familiar scar and mug beneath the cowboy hat, it was indeed Jonah Hex.
He’d met Jonah once before during a brief league mission. He thought back to the time, surely Jonah knew he was now in an era of time travel and that someone could help him. Though he supposed the league never mentioned when and where they were from. The man could track down anyone though, sooner or later one of them was gonna find the other.
The other man Bruce had to think on, he looked astonishingly familiar. It was the pilot’s bands on his collar that made it click. It was Hans von Hammer, a German fighter pilot also known as Enemy Ace. Bruce had never met him personally, but he’d been briefly mentioned by other time traveling leaguers. Both of these men were known to them.
“Hex and Hammer.” Bruce whispered to himself but he was sure Barbara could still hear him. “Did Flash see this yet?”
“Just briefed him.”
“Oracle if you can get in contact with Booster Gold, let him know what’s going on.”
“Booster? Really?”
“We may need his help getting these guys home.”
Bruce watched as von Hammer ditched his gear, the next time these two appeared on a camera they wouldn’t be as easy to spot. “Keep a trail on them if you can, we need to know where they are.”
“Already on it, having face recognition software track them as we speak.”
—-
Both men had been walking together for over an hour, moving further out. Jonah insisted they were following spirits. Hans himself was known for being a tracker and hunter, during the Great War he was referred to as having his own sixth sense.
Now he tracked nothing, merely followed this cowboy around. He could however sense their own followers. Someone in this city was hunting them down, and he knew not if that was a good thing or not.
They traded their coats with some vagabonds they encountered. Slightly shorter and darker colored coats to hopefully allow them to blend in. They seemed all too happy to oblige, Hans observed how intimidating Jonah could be. The large man reathed orders through his teeth, the hole in his cheek ever prominent. Saliva would spray through it as he growled or swore.
The man was needlessly harsh with whatever people they encountered, even at times nothing was said. His silence was painful, although there were moments, at the turn of his head, when Hans could see just the outline of his face, eyes relaxed, unshaven jaw and glistening skin in the dim street, where he thought the other man handsome.
Handsome and charming in his own way, maybe as troubled and lonely as himself. Hans was burdened by his loneliness, yet he’d so willingly embraced it for so many years. Living alone and away from the world. Even now he was amidst another war, surrounded by fellows and foe, yet he was alone. Something about this cowboy, his unrealness, made him forget the loneliness if only for a moment.
Hans pulled his coat tight, it was starting to rain. Jonah had caught a glimpse of his cigarettes as they switched their pockets out. The man offered up a match as a means to even their trade.
They stood beneath a store banister to duck from the rain. Jonah flicked the match against his calloused palm to light it, quite a sight. Lighting the cigarette at his lips. Hans placed his own cigarette to his lips and waited, watching with hawked eyes. Jonah flicked the match to the ground, the light instantly dissipating on the damp concrete. He took a drag from his cigarette before taking it from his lips and holding it out to the other man’s. Hans leaned in, the heat transferring and igniting his own cigarette. There was no thanks exchanged from either side, the two simply acknowledged each other in silence.
It was after a few of these long silent moments where they heard a large rumble in the distance. During their brief time in Gotham they‘d encountered plenty of large vehicles, chasing and racing each other. The engines sometimes revved louder than his old Fokker plane. However this time something was different. Jonah’s scared eye rolled in its socket staring deep into him. The other man’s cigarette flicked to the ground like a small meteor falling onto the concrete.
The wolf howled, loud, louder than the engines and Han‘s heart pounded, it sprang out from between them, its fur puffed and its collar mangy. „C‘mon.“ he thought he heard Jonah say.
The two men began to run, their boots pattering over the pavement. Grimy puddles jumping to get away from their boots. Echoes perveying the alleyway, yet the farther they ran the louder the sound seemed to become. Both coming to a skidded halt as they were all but cornered in a tight deadend.
Jonah held his hand over his holster, his fingers lingering over the grip of his gun. His cigarette still hung from his lip and smoke seeped through the hole in his cheek. A bead of sweat dripped from his hair line and roved down, moving over his face before hanging at his nose.
Hans felt a cool breeze drift down the alley; it hitting their nervously wet faces, he pulled his gun out from his pocket, his mind unsure yet his hands far from shaking. His toes clenched in his boots, unseen by all but felt direly by the wolf as it stalked in front of them, an ever present growl refusing to cease.
There was a high pitched whirr followed by a low roar, smoke billowing down the alley and huge beams of light streaking over them, casting harsh shadows behind them. The vehicle crept forward before essentially coming to a halt, a few mere meters in front of them. They waited in a tense silence before the door crept open, the headlights beamed down, leaving their eyes and illuminating the ground.
A large man, maybe even a creature stepped out. Jonah was seconds away from shooting, ready to ask questions later. His eyes glancing over the dark figure, noticing the points of his ears and the strangely bat-like symbol on his chest. “Bat-Man?” The words sounded like a joke leaving Jonah’s mouth. The wolf seemed equally knowing and hung back, sitting at Hans’ feet.
Hans dared to glance his way, trying to sense a joke. This “Batman” as Jonah had called him spoke first. “We’ve been looking for you two all night.” he said, sounding human enough.
Jonah kept steady, not moving his hand from his holster. “So this is your time then, I was startin’ to figure.” he said.
Batman nodded approaching them slowly and standing before them, his form large but in the moment unopposing. “Jonah” he nodded to greet the cowboy, before turning to the soldier “Guten Abend Herr von Hammer”, he greeted.
“Äh Hallo.” Hans said suspiciously. “If I may ask, what is going on?”
“I’m Batman.” He paused, seemingly for dramatic effect, “Future resident of Gotham. We’ve been trying to track the time breaches the two of you got here through, find its source, find both of you, and get you home.”
“I’ve seen this guy in the past before, him and some of his crew posing as cowboys, but very obviously from some other kinda place.” Jonah explained, his hand had finally left his gun and his arms sat crossed now as they conversed.
“Both of your reputations proceed you. We’re still not sure why you were brought here, but it’s best to get you back as quickly as possible before the timeline starts to differ.” As the Bat spoke there was another sudden rush of air and sound as electricity crackled down the alley.
Another man was suddenly beside them, wearing a contrastingly bright red suit covered in gold lightning bolts. “Finally found them.” This new guy commented.
“I know this fella too.” Jonah said.
“I’m the Flash.” he spoke quickly. "Let's get you guys back, I can’t run you back myself so we’ve borrowed some tech, I’ll be right back.” In a similar electrical rush the Flash vanished.
Batman stood silently, observing them. “I apologize for all the ruckus we caused” Jonah started, “had I known this was your city…” Hans was surprised to hear Jonah speak so respectfully to someone else, this Batman must have been pretty important.
“It’s fine”, Batman answered though judging from his tone it wasn’t entirely. “Abnormal circumstances call for abnormal measures, as much as I would normally take action, neither of you belong here.”
“So that’s it then?” Hans asked, “We will be sent back to the moment we have left, like nothing ever happened? What if someone tries to get us again?”
“We’re working on that, and we have some league members who can monitor your timelines, ensuring no one moves you again.”
Moments later, the Flash now larger than life in a large spherical craft, appeared back rather the same as before. “Alright, everyone in, we’ll find your moments of departure and put you right back.“
The other three boarded the time sphere, crowding into its central room. Batman moved to the controls aiding the Flash to send them all the way back in time, about 160 years into the past. They watched as the world and time seemed to whir around them, lights shooting all around the clear glass time sphere.
“Mr. Jonah Hex first,” said Flash.
They all watched as the time and location started to slow around them. The sky was bright and clear, the land was dry and sparse of much vegetation. A stereotypical tumbleweed blew by the entrance of the craft. In the distance they saw a man on a horse in the distance. He galloped on, somehow not noticing them all in the large craft. As he galloped closer, not only was he recognizable as Jonah but, they saw now a large breach of energy permeate the ground. A shockwave that sent his horse rearing back at an almost unnatural angle. Quaking so heavily the horse stumbled back down and Jonah was flung to the ground, yet the ground he did not hit as he fell through the wormhole that grew there, before it quickly vanished.
The door of the sphere lifted open, someone spoke. “Looks like the moment where we drop you off.”
Jonah glanced back, looking at all of their strange faces. “Alright then,” he said simply.
“Take care.” Hans said quietly, the look in his eyes as dismal as they had been the entire few hours he’d known him.
Jonah held out his hand, Hans reached in tune to shake it. “You too.”
Jonah stepped out from the sphere, his cowboy boots settling nicely into the dirt, as he walked off, his horse began to still and trotted over to him, not realizing the sudden change in its owner’s location. The two costumed heroes began to adjust the settings in the sphere as the door closed and they started to move further in time once more, 80 years into the future, about half way to their home but all the way to Hans’.
Lights and colors streaked all around once more before the colors began to dull and the sky began to darken as time slowed. Hans recognized the outside of the cabin where they’d been staying, snow harshly whipping around it and only a faint amount of light detectable within. There was a sudden large flash of light, and a large rumble that caused snow to fall from the roof. Must’ve been the time portal opening on the inside.
“Now it’s time for you, von Hammer.” Batman said, his expression as stoic as ever.
Hans tried greatly to read it, a little at a loss for this rather anticlimactic ending, overall unfulfilled by this rather unbelievable thing that had just happened to him. “I do not wish to know anything of the future…but please tell me… the war, please tell me that we will lose, but the people of Germany will live on.”
‘You know we aren’t supposed to tell you anything like that.” Yet in his refusal to answer the small smile that spread upon the Bat’s face told him all he needed to know.