Velma woke feeling violently ill. While waiting for the spasms to subside she looked around. She appeared to be lying on a cement floor inside some kind of wire cage. The cage was about five feet high and five wide with a wire frame door at the end. She was lying a few feet from the front of the cage but couldn't see how far back the cage went. Judging from the wire making up the cage it was designed to hold a large animals. Black plastic sheeting hung down on the outside of the cage blocking her view of the rest of the room. All she could see through the front was a sturdy, metal covered table in the center of the room and benches and cabinets lined against the far wall.

Gradually she started feeling better. She pushed herself off the floor only to pause from a sharp pain on her right leg. Looking down she saw a large damp patch on her skirt centered around the pocket. She reached into the pocket to see what was there only to jab her fingers on something very sharp. She yanked it out with a cry, stuck it in her mouth to suck out the blood only to immediately spit out the foul-tasting substance on her finger. The smell was bringing back a memory. She reached again into her skirt-pocket more carefully this time and extracted the broken half of a square-faced glass bottle. It reeked of the clear, thick liquid Shaggy had thought was shampoo - the 'shampoo' that had turned him into a wolfman! "Fudge-nuggets! Velma cried. She was tempted to whisper one of those four-letter words that other people used but her mother had brought her up strictly about the use of language. She remembered putting the bottle into her skirt-pocket intending to take it to the kitchen and put it with the bottle from Mrs. Peterson for Batman to look at later. Then Shaggy had transformed and they had all rushed out to find him. It must have still been in her pocket when she was chloroformed and broke sometime while being hauled here, where ever here was.

But there was still a burning pain on her leg. She pulled up her skirt to find a six inch cut running along her thigh. It was a shallow cut and mostly clotted over but still exposed. It must have been cut when the bottle broke. So not only had the wolfman serum been soaking into her skin, which had been enough to transform Shaggy, but it had an open cut to soak into as well. Great. Now she was going to turn into a wolfman just like Shaggy. She'd be stuck in side-show carnivals for the rest of her life - Velma, the bearded lady!

With a snarl, she threw the bottle away from her and leaped at the gate in the cage shaking it back and forth, trying to tear it open with brute force. Eventually her temper cooled and she stood up - as much as a five foot cage allowed - and straightened her clothes. That was just stupid, she thought, wondering if her uncharacteristic outburst was an early sign of her transformation.

"Think, Velma, think," she reminded herself. First, where are the others? "Freddy? Daphne? Shaggy?" she called. The only response when she called Shaggy's name, a drowsy sort of snarl which suggested he was in another cage like this but in no condition to be of any help.

Second: escape. She had to get a message to Batman while she was still rational, to let him know where they were. She had already guessed where that might be - Shaggy's uncle's island wildlife center. Where else would someone have cages large enough to hold wolves - or people! And it's isolation from the rest of the community was perfect for whatever scheme Eric Mann was up to. Velma examined the door to the cage. A simple dropbolt held it shut but a padlock had been run through the tang on the bolt securing the bolt in place. "Jinkies! If only I had a lockpick!" she thought, then remembered that she had never mastered the art of picking locks.

If only, then, she had a file she could cut through the bars around the padlock, but of course she didn't...

Velma slapped her forehead. "I am such an idiot" she whispered. Of course she had a file. After being abducted as many times as she had, she had decided on some pro-active defense. It took the form of a nail file. A harmless looking, ordinary metal nail file, something every girl would carry. Except hers was make of carbide steel and the edge was grooved to form a miniature, diamond-tipped saw. She keep it tucked into her knee-high stockings where people wouldn't think to look.

She dug it out, looked around to make sure no one was watching and started sawing on the bar.

It took a lot longer then she had expected before cutting through the last bar and pushing the cage door open. She tucked the file back into her sock and stepped out. Freddy, Daphne and Shaggy were in the cages next to hers, but unconscious from the effects of the chloroform. A fourth cage held an unknown wolfman, also drugged. Velma wondered who this man could be. Was it the recently transformed bank teller? The creature's fur was surprisingly grey, suggesting an older man. Velma didn't have time to worry who the wolfman was. Rather she was dismayed to find that Fred, Daphne's and Shaggy's cages were all padlocked like hers. It would take her forever to saw through all of them. And she didn't have that kind of time. Either someone would come to check on the prisoners or ... she would change into a wolfman before there.

A Key! padlocks called for keys. Where would one keep one? On a hook by the door? She checked there. There was a hook for keys there, but no key. Next Velma went through the various drawers in the tables but couldn't find a key. This was really testing her patience!

With a growl she slammed the last drawer closed and considered her options. She really needed to get a message to Batman. Her cell phone wasn't on her waistband clip. As if her kidnappers would be so foolish as to leave it with her. Time before her transformation was running out. She had to move. With a sign of regret, Velma pulled the nail file from her sock and tossed it into Daphne's cell. Daphne was a smart kid. She's know what the file was for. Her friends were going to have to look after themselves while she tried to find The Batman. With a last look at them, Velma opened the door and slipped out.

][

Outside the door she paused to take stock. Thirty yards straight ahead was a large stone bungalow. A mercury-vapor light hung from a pole near the back door. It revealed a clearing from the house to the bay. A lane lead from the house to a pier with a connected boathouse. A hundred yards past the house was a tower with a blinking light, probably a lighthouse beacon. Velma concentrated on the boathouse. If there was any way off the island, it would be there.

Because light was coming out of most of the house's windows Velma took off to the left, into the woods on that side of the house. She had barely got pass the house before hearing the howl of a wolf. She paused with a shudder. The howl sounded way too close for her comfort. Taking a bracing deep breathe Velma pushed on.

She was about twenty feet from the boathouse, edging out of the brush,when a number of floodlights flashed on. Velma frozen, then scurried back into the brush. She had barely found cover before the side door of the house and two men stepped out.

"You got the shotgun?" the heavier of the two men asked.

"Don't you have it?" His partner replied.

"I thought you were ... oh, forget it. I'm going back inside to get it."

"The hell with that. Let's just check this out and get back inside. I'm missing my show."

"I'm not going out there without the scattergun. There's wolves out there."

"Du'h. The boss let them loose so we could lock up the furballs. Look, I've got my gun. One shot ought to scare them away." He lead the way towards the boathouse. Velma backed further into brush.

They walked around the boathouse, flashlights flickering into any shadows. "Didn't I tell you it was just wind blowing a branch in line with the remote sensors."

"Doesn't matter. The boss says we got to check out anything unusual."

"Screw that."

"Hey! We do what the boss wants or we become like one of ... them!" the henchman shuddered. "I don't intend to become one of his crazy experiments!"

"Keep calling him crazy' and you'll end up in a fur suit."

"You keep your mouth shut and we'll be alright."

"Maybe it was one of those wolves wandering around. Anyway there's nothing here now. Let's get back inside." The two turned around and went back inside.

Velma watched them leave, then retraced her way back to the shed with the cages. With motion detectors strung all around the boathouse there was no way for her to get inside. Time for Plan B. What was plan B?

She crossed over to the shore and followed it away from the house. She was hoping for a forgotten canoe or rowboat but there was none. Soon the lights from the village came into view.

Velma stopped with a sigh. "I guess I could swim," she thought. The distant, though, was daunting and she suspected the water was icy. Maybe she could put together a raft if she could find a few logs and some vines...

A wolf howled.

It sounded pretty close.

A second howl answered it. Then a third.

Velma slowly turned around. There wasn't one wolf or two or three. There were at least six, all slowly advancing on her.

Velma took a step back.

A light breeze brought a rank smell from the wolves. It smelled familiar. It smelled - Velma gasped - like the chemicals soaked into her skirt. No wonder it turned people into wolfmen, it was derived from wolf pheromones!

Velma unzipped her skirt, stepped out of it and threw it at the advancing beasts. They fell on it with snarls, ripping and tearing at the cloth. But after a moment they stepped over the shredded skirt and continued on towards her.

Velma kept backing up until her feet stepped into water. There was a bit of a drop off causing her to lose her balance. She felt into icy, black water with a loud splash and a squeal of surprise. The water was only a foot deep but as she scrambled to her feet Velma realized that her decision had been made for her. There was no place on the island safe for her. There was no time to make a raft. She was going to have to swim!

She back out into the lake keeping an eye on the wolves. A foot of water wasn't going to stop them if they decided to rush her. The land was falling away rapidly, though, three steps back and she was already waist deep. A couple more and she was floating. She back pedaled about twenty feet, then paused to pull off her sweater. The open knitting normally was so warm and comforting but also soaked up water like a sponge. It already felt leaden about her. She struggled out of the sweater, kicked off her shoes, and turning towards the lights of Bullet Bay pushed off in a steady breast stroke. The shore seemed a long ways away. She hoped she had time to reach it before the transformation came over here.

][

Batman had trained himself to remain motionless whenever he woke up, listening intently for sounds of activity, searching with half-opened eyes for the presence of threats. Getting knocked unconscious was an occupational hazard. Surviving was the trick. He saw that he was inside a forest and that it was late at night, trees were silhouetted against a starry sky, but there was little to no moonlight. Yes, he remembered now, chasing the two wolfmen into the forest, fighting with one. The other he had thought tied up with his batarang must have gotten free. And hit him with a... Glancing to his side he could see a rock about the size of his two doubled fists. Yeah, hit him with that.

Batman felt around his head, finding one large lump in the left side, just past the ear. The only reason he was live at all from his injury was the technology built into his cowl. Inside the lining was a peculiar gel that had the remarkable feature of becoming instantly rigid when struck a hard blow. That hardening had been just enough to protect his head from being cracked open like a melon by that rock. It hadn't protected him from having a painful wound on his head or the possibility of a concussion. His eyes seemed to be focusing alright so maybe he'd dodged that complication.

By degrees he worked himself to his feet. With his head feeling like it was about to explode at every jolt and sway it took a long time. The two wolfman had, of course long since vanished. He consulted the clock in his utility belt. Just after midnight. He'd been out for over four hours. He hadn't blunder this badly since Bane nearly killed him. Walking careful to avoid making his headache worse Batman retraced his steps back the house of Eric Mann, the house Mystery Incorporated was using.

Batman approached the house from the rear. He tended to do things that way, working in the darkness, avoiding being seen. It added to the mystery surrounding him; the fear he wished to instill in the minds of criminals.

He paused with a start when he saw the open back door. The evening was too cool to leave the door open. something was not right within. He slipped up the steps to the porch in a trice and pressed against the wall beside the door, quelled his breathing and listened intently for the sounds of anyone moving about in the house.

It was deathly quiet.

He slipped into the kitchen, searching any place of concealment for danger. He found no one. The pans for spaghetti were still on the stove,, the heat turned off under them. A quick glance showed that the pasta sat in the water partly cooked. Batman remembered seeing Daphne put the pasta in boiling water. Whatever happened here, therefore must have happened shortly after he'd left. There was a note on the kitchen table, pinned under the small, square-faced bottle from Mrs. Peterson. The note could wait.

Batman moved into the living room, checking for injured victims or concealed threats. He noticed the bathroom door hanging in shards in the hallway leading there. He stuck his head in long enough to determine that no one was inside, then went upstairs and checked the bedrooms up there. His search complete, Batman returned to the damaged bathroom to figure out what had happened.

The room was damp as from a recent shower. A towel hung over the shower curtain rod, drying. Across from the shower, sitting on top of the dryer was a neatly folded orange sweater. No other clothes were with it, though. Aside from the broken door nothing was disturbed on the room, no sign of struggle. The door, laying in the hallway suggested that whoever had been inside the bathroom had broken out. A check of the door knob showed that it wasn't locked. So whoever was in the room had a sudden fury to escape the room and forgot that all they had to do was turn the doorknob.

A final check of the bathroom found clothes thrown into the waste basket. Batman knelt and pulled out two orange knee-high stockings, panties and a bra. They were all water-soaked. The stockings were encrusted with muck up to the ankles, but on the soles the mud was compacted and semi-dry. Batman shook out her panties and examined them. There were no rips, tears or strange stains on them. That meant that whatever happened to her, she had not been assaulted. Batman was relieved by that.

He was beginning to form a picture. Velma, for the clothes were obviously hers, had jumped or been thrown into the bay and swam ashore. The absence of her skirt and sweater was probably because she would have had to peel out of them or be dragged down by their weight. Being fastidious, Velma had washed up before doing anything else. But where had she gone?

Batman got up and examined the door frame. As he suspected there were tufts of short, thick reddish-orange hair. He didn't need to bring his monocular into play to know that this was Velma's hair, transformed into a wolfman. He realized that he should have read the note on the table before this.

Back in the kitchen he picked up the note. If he didn't know this was from Velma he wouldn't have recognized the handwriting. Normally she wrote in a small, very neat, looping hand. This was all jagged and uneven:"Shag chgd. gang capt B I Infected t-"

'Shaggy changed' he guessed was the first part, but gang what? And who was Captain B? 'I infected too.' That part made sense. But wait, if by 'gang' she meant Mystery Inc. then it wasn't 'Captain B' but 'Gang Captured.' And B. I. ... Bullet Island. But where had Velma gone after her transformation. Possible back to Bullet island but more likely, from what he'd determined from tracking the other victims, they seemed to wander around in a daze for a while. Velma could be anywhere. Damn it, he needed Scooby Doo again.

A growl from the doorway told him he wouldn't have to look far to find the Great Dane.

"Wher' 'Raggy?" the dog grunted.

"Velma's in trouble. We need to find her first!" Batman said.

"No! 'rrr! Shaggy!"

"Velma!"

"R'aggy!"

This is getting anywhere, Batman reflected. And he was out of pemmican with which to bribe the dog, assuming the Great Dane could be bribed to forget about his master for a time.

He stared at the beast for a time before realized that Scooby Doo was no ordinary dog and the usual tricks would not work on him. "I don't know where Shaggy is, but Velma does," he began. "She's been turned into a wolfman but if we can find her I'm sure she can lead us to Shaggy and the others. So to find Shaggy we have to find Velma first."

The great dane narrowed its eyes, either in preparation of attack or in thinking. After a long, tense moment, the dog asked, "wher' R'elma?"

"You have to find her." Batman told the dog. There was another long pause while Batman braced himself for an attack by a dog that weighed nearly as much as he did. Then Scooby Doo dropped his nose to the floor and started sniffing. Wordlessly he lead the way out of the house. Batman rushed back to the bathroom, picked up Velma's sweater and stuffed it into a pouch sewn into his cape. He suspected she'd want it when he found her. He hurried after the dog.

][

The trail lead straight to the Bullet Bay harbor and up and down each of the piers there. Velma must have been looking for a boat to get back to the island and rescue her friends but they had been all taken up for the winter. She then wandered into the forest outside the village, wandered around there until she found the large clearing with the trap and the now cold hamburgers, where the gang had been captured earlier that night. As they entered the clearing Batman could see a raccoon sitting on his haunches on top of the trap set for the newly transformed men. It held one of the day old hamburgers in its paws nibbling on it. When it saw Batman it hissed, stuffed the burger into its mouth and slunk away.

Scooby Doo, seeing the mound of unclaimed burgers forgot about looking for Velma, or Shaggy and made a beeline for the meal.

"Stop! Sit!" Batman barked with such authority that the Great Dane instantly froze.

"Booby trap," Batman explained, showing the dog where the trip wire was located. The dog bowed its head in mournful despair. All that food left untasted!

The ground in the clearing was covered in last year's leaves. These were all kicked up from the earlier conflict. There was no way for Batman to read what had happened. Still he suspected Velma was still nearby. Lured by the scent of the roasted meat, but too wary to be caught in the simple dead-fall. Looking around he spied a large pile of brush. It was maybe six feet high and thirty feet long. Probably made when clearing the woods to set this trap. He looked at it closely and noticed that there was an opening maybe sixteen inches high facing the clearing. Maybe it was a fox hole, or maybe...

"Velma, this is Batman!" he addressed the brush pile. "You're safe now. You can come out."

There was no response. He took the sweater from the pouch in his cape. "I've brought something for you," he told the brush pile and tossed the folded sweater into the small opening into the pile. Moments later a furry hand reached out and snatched the sweater. It disappeared inside the pile of brush, to be followed by some thrashing and rustling inside.

"Velma," he tried again. "I need to rescue your friends but I can't do that until I know you are safe. Please come out from there."

"Forget me. I'm hideous."

Batman looked around the clearing. He was man of doing, of action. He was not comfortable trying to argue with people. Most of the people he had to deal with never listened to reason, anyway. "you're ... changed," he began, "but I know people who deal with this kind of transformation all the time. They can help you, help all the people who have been affected by this disease." He waited and when there was no response from Velma he went on. "I know hideous. Hideous is looking into the eyes of the Joker and seeing no trace of humanity. Hideous is looking at Two-Face and know this used to be ..." Batman stumbled. he was about to say 'a good friend,' but realized that was too much information if he was to keep his identify a secret. Harvey Dent never had that many friends and a smart girl like Velma Dinkley might easily figure out that Bruce Wayne was Dent's friend and... The Batman. "He was a good man," Batman finished lamely.

There was another long pause.

"Your friends..."

"I'm coming." Velma said. The brush pile rustled and a moment later she crawled out from under it. "Thanks for bring my sweater," she said as she stood up and straightened it out.

"Where's R'haggy?" Scooby Doo leaped up placing his paws on her shoulders, rumbling into her face. Velma gave a little cry of surprise, then pushed the Great Dane down. "He's on Bullet island with Daphne and Fred, and the other villagers, I think. There's a bunch of hired guards and motion detectors." She knelt down to give the dog a reassuring hug. "Don't worry, with Batman here we'll rescue him."

Scooby Doo licked her furry face, then spat. "You taste awful," he wheezed.

"Of course," Velma sighed, standing up. "I was going to go back to the island but I couldn't find a boat."

"I brought one?"

"You brought the Batboat?"

"There is no Batboat. That just in that silly TV show." As he was talking Batman had taken a pager-like device from his utility belt and was punching in some numbers and letters on its keyboard. Putting it away he said, "come."

As she followed Velma asked, "Does that mean there's no Batplane? No Bat-copter? Surely you at least have a Batmobile."

"Nor a Bat-dog, or a Junior Batman."

"A Bat-cave?" Velma asked. When he didn't answer she assumed that was a yes."

It was a short hike to the highway. Sitting on the side of the road was a black, GM Suburban. It had tinted windows, solid panels on the sides and a CB whip antenna but otherwise seemed just like every other SUV Velma had ever seen. Without a word Batman walked around to the back and opened the door, reached inside and pulled out a suitcase-sized package. He closed the door, touched a button on the pager device and the car silently drove away.

Velma was feeling confused by all this, then got even more confused when Batman smiled at her. The Batman she knew never smiled at anyone! "That's the Batmobile," he told her.

"But it looks like any other car!" Velma protested.

"I work in the shadows," Batman say. "What better than a truck no one would look at twice."

"Who's driving it? I thought you worked alone."

"Google's not the one researching driverless cars."

The Batman lead them back into the woods and along the shore till they came to a level, sandy spot. He put the package down and pulled on a rip-cord. With a quiet hiss of air it quickly unfolded into a tiny four-man raft. Stenciled on the side was US Navy surplus.

Reaching into a pocket on one sidewall Batman removed four padded leather bags. "Sorry, Scooby, I can't risk your claws tearing a hole in the boat." He handed two of the bags to Velma and picking up a foot slipped the bag over Scooby's paw and velcoed it snug. He helped the dog and Velma into the boat, unfolded a paddle and pushed off from the shore. With silent stroked the envy of any Boy Scout he paddled towards the distant island. As he paddled Velma filled him in on all she knew about the island, mentioning in particular the lights on the boathouse.

When she was finished silence fell over the inflated boat. She was about to ask the Batman something when he whispered, "Sounds carry far across water."

She swallowed her question and turned to face the slowly nearing island. Scooby Doo had buried his head in her lap and she absent-mindedly patted him. She could feel him shivering uncontrollably. Scooby, like Shaggy was intensely loyal but not very brave. She thought about the Batman TV show that she's watched all her life. It was what had encouraged her to become a detective. Whenever she was stuck on a problem she would whisper, "What would Batman do?" And somehow that would always give her an answer. So there was no Batplane, Batboat, Batsubmarine, etc. While the Batmobile was a prosaic car lacking the flaring wings and giant jet engine that had made the TV Batmobile so dramatic. It was kind of disappointing. Then again there was nothing disappointing about the man sitting in the inflatable raft with her. He was dynamic, commanding, masterful in all the ways that the TV Batman attempted to be. Only where the TV actor tended to speak in exclamation marks, the real Batman rarely spoke above a whisper. Perhaps that was to disguise his voice, but ... She knew she'd never be able to watch the TV show ever again the same way, this man was more The Batman then the actor on TV had ever been.

The boat was angling across the point of Bullet Island she noticed and coming up the far side of the strait. The waters here were pretty rocky and navigation was a challenge. Velma keep a sharp look-out for submerged rocks. They found a good landing point about half way up the island and pulled in to it. Batman pulled the raft out of the water and hide it in some bushes. Velma waited patiently. He stepped up to her after a moment. "Your friends are still locked in the cages in the workshop?" he asked.

"Yeah."

"I want you to go free them. Take Scooby with you for protection."

Velma wondered who would be protecting who but didn't say anything about that. "I looked for a key to their cages couldn't find one. And I tossed my file inside Daphne's cage. If she's not awake they still might be locked up. And I don't have another file."

Batman paused in thought for second then reached into his utility belt and pulled out a compact mass that he quickly unfolded into a pair of wire cutters. A leatherman tool Velma noted. Off the shelve components for his utility belt. You can't go around order stuff to be special-made for you without people wondering, paper-trails and all that. And of course none of the decals that the TV Batman had splattered all over his devices. Batman, the real Batman never left behind anything that could be traced to him.

"These should work," he said, handing them to her. "I'm going up to the house to lure the gang out. How many did you see when they were capturing you?"

"Six or eight. Not more than ten. I didn't stop to count, Sorry."

"You've been doing great, Velma," he whispered, sending a torrent of hot blood to her face.

"How can we help once we get free?"

"Stay vigilant. Stay undercover. Don't try to help me. I work best alone."

"Oh..." Velma was audibly disappointed.

"See to your friends," Batman whispered before disappearing into the brush.

"Well!" grunted Velma. "Come on Scooby."