Nightshift 42: Bohr Street

[pleading_ngri]

[from here]

Windows were dark on Bohr street, but doors worryingly open, and Phoenix's eyes kept darting to each new entrance they passed, dark rectangles like open graves. He tried to think of what was this way, but his mind was a spinning blank, bolting like a rabbit every time a new face turned to stare at them with those hollow, filmy eyes. "

Comments

[scarletspeedstr]

All in all, today had actually been pretty good. After lunch Bruce had wanted to take a look around the town, check out where everything and everyone was and maybe look into getting a few items one way or another, and Wally hadn't really had any other plans beyond keeping an eye on the older man and Bart, so had ended up tagging along, one eye open in case he spotted the younger speedster as well. It had actually been kinda relaxing in one way. Just walking and talking together (well, Wally had done most of the talking while Bruce alternatively made non-committal noises or asked the occasional question) had been a lot like hanging out on the Watchtower again. Bats doing his thing with watching a bazillion monitor screens at once and yet never missing a detail while Wally played solitaire, tried to hold a conversation for two people on his own, and got snacks all at once.

The only difference was that so far he hadn't gotten that final glare that signalled the Flash to go find something else to do for a while. Before Bats found him something to do.

So yeah, all in all, today had actually been pretty good. Which was probably why Wally shouldn't have been that surprised that it all went bad in no time at all.

They'd been heading down Bohr street after getting a general overview of the town - Wally had been subtly (by his standards anyway) trying to direct them both towards Tasty Burger and the toy store; he was hungry as always, but the toy store made him wonder if there was some way he could beg a small something to give Bart when he next saw the kid. Chances were he'd need it.

And then the sun had vanished behind the mountain and Wally had to wonder if he was seeing things as the town around them just changed suddenly. The buildings looked a lot more worn and damaged than they had before, and there was rust and decay and what looked suspiciously like blood on everything.

"Man, this kind of thing never ends well," he said, mouth running on autopilot as his eyes flicked around the area warily. Changes like that couldn't mean anything good-

He stumbled slightly, and something clutched at his ankle. Wally glanced down and had enough time to take in the rotten hand griping it before the street erupted with a fresh crop of zombies.

"Aww, come on! Zombies?" he complained, kicking viciously and somewhat awkwardly at the rotten hand as he did so. "I hate fighting zombies. They reek and you have to break too many bits off before they stop coming after you!"

He was talking on reflex now, not a panicked babble or anything so much as the bad jokes and banter that was code for 'I'm doing this because it's better than freaking out'. The dry, dead fingers snapped under the assault and Wally beat a hasty retreat back closer to Bruce, glancing up at the other man both for guidance and to see how he was taking things.

"So, what's the plan?"

[gothamnight]

If bad things came in threes- Bruce thought almost absently as he fractured a zombie's arm. With Clark's death, the counseling, and this thing occurring within just days...it was enough to make anyone suspicious, never mind the scores of patients who'd been trying for weeks to understand the forces that made Landel's so formidable. Bruce anticipated a lively bulletin the next morning; for now, though...

There was an undeniable I knew it feeling to this sudden catastrophe; lunch and the afternoon had gone too well for comfort, and after last night, it'd take more than a horde of zombies to divert Bruce's focus. The change in the town was hardly subtle-in fact, it'd been obvious as soon as the sun went down that their surroundings had changed. Like a true ghost town, the buildings were in shambles and the dull luster of the walls evoked bloodshed. Bruce assumed this was the first time a change of this scale had happened; as he threw a second zombie into the first one, Bruce couldn't help but wonder if the next time they came into Doyleton, they would find the populace changed. These dead, decaying corpses were beyond recognizable, and there'd been people "living" in this town; it wasn't a stretch to think that the two were one in the same.

There were more of them now; there'd only be more as the night went on. Bruce's eyes widened as one of them came at him, jaws trembling; instinct and some half-baked rememberance of Dick's old horror flicks drove him to dodge just as the zombie stretched its grip farther and attempted to bite him. Finally comprehending, Bruce landed a hard punch to the creature's skull, ignored the crunch of bone beneath his knuckles, and noted the way the zombie fell to the ground-perhaps not dead, but stunned.

The head. Aim for the head.

Eyes narrowing, Batman ran towards the corner.

"We'll arm ourselves at the hardware store-this way!"

With that, he darted left into Main Street and trusted the Flash to follow.

[to here.]