She was supposed to have ridden out the war with Darkseid in the Batcave. She had all the equipment she could ever need there to send information to the rest of the heroes in Bludhaven, or wherever else they chose as their base of operations. From her Clocktower, she'd taken very little - a few things she wouldn't find in Bruce's house, at least, to her satisfaction - and had gotten from the garage the last thing Bruce had ever made for her, but she had yet to use. It was a Batcycle - purple, of course - that started as a four-wheeler until the rear section detached (returning to base) and the driver lay forward in an enclosed pod. It was still suspended on four wheels, but the placement of them had the two front and two rear wheels side by side in the style of the average motorcycle.
Later, she would be glad she'd chosen not to ride in the prone position that evening. Heading north on the Ricochet for the Robert Kane Memorial Bridge, Barbara had needed to be careful. There were practically no other vehicles on the road, and she didn't want to look too closely at the ones that were. People were still leaving Gotham on foot, a few by vehicle, but the road had mostly been clogged with abandoned cars, trucks, vans, and bikes. Only half of her had wanted to know where their owners were.
Suddenly, it had become apparent that one truck, at least, was on the run out of town. It had only been a four wheeler, but whatever the freight in its hold, the speed of the cargo van around the corner sent it into a spin. Babs heard the squeal of breaks, smelled the burning rubber, and reached for the lever to open up the throttle... but it was too late.
The front right corner of the truck sent her bike spinning left off the road and into the mud beside the river. Before she could even think to move from her spot, the truck came flying after her. In a burst of white pain, the last thing Babs remembered was the image of the van in the air above her.
When she woke, it had been become evening. Nothing hurt, but that was one of the mixed blessings of being paralyzed. She could have been bleeding to death and she wouldn't have known it without looking. Carefully, Babs opened her eyes, and had tried to sit up. She was only partially successful. She could sit, and she could even move a little, but she clearly wasn't going anywhere, unless she was willing to amputate just below the knee.
Looking around, she'd taken stock of her surroundings. The river was thankfully within reach. As long as it didn't raise high enough to drown her, she should be alright with water. She had a little food in her pack, a box of tea, and there were some edible grasses on the bank. It wasn't at all good enough, but it was a start, and surely someone would find her soon, right?
Blinking, Babs had noticed that the padlock on the back of the truck was cracked. Looking around, she'd found a large rock and used it to bash the lock in until it fell to pieces. Pulling them away and sliding the hasp aside, she had pushed the rolling door left - what had once been up - and looked inside.
Everything had been thrown about, but there were a few things that made her immediately feel a bit better. A couple folded blue tarps were within reach, as were a nice big stack of shipping blankets. Looking further back at some of the boxes that had fallen, she recognized the label immediately.
The blue script of the Entenmann's logo stared back at her. Okay, so she probably wouldn't starve, but she'd definitely make herself ill if she ate this stuff.
Remembering the electonics she'd packed, Babs took off her pack and pulled out the pieces. Frowning at them, she pieced them together carefully, repurposing a shoelace, a belt buckle, a stick, and a piece of duct tape stuck to the door. When she was done, Babs had a straight-key radio.
Over the following days, Babs set up a system, never using the radio over the same hours every day, but staggering them so that no one could track the radio signal when her radio was on. The message she sent was always the same. It started and ended with the word 'Bat', and the information between was in a code known only to members of that family.
She tried to keep her muscles strong, but was starting to feel tired. She tried to eat something everyday, but was starting to lose weight. She'd tried to keep warm, but the ground beneath her leached all heat from her body. Babs could only hope someone would hear her soon.
Otherwise, there was a very sharp rock just beyond her reach that could probably serve as an axe...