Nightshift 42: Central Street
[from here]Punching zombies was almost mechanical now, though Wally wasn't sure if that was from having hit so many or from blood loss kicking in. Maybe it was even both? He'd been punching so many, following Bats as he led the way down the street running down the centre of Doyleton, that they'd all started to blur together into a rhythm of 'punch
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Under normal circumstances. But real-life "zombie apocalypses" weren't normal, and neither was the steady, red stream dripping down Wally's arm and shoulder. A wound that Bruce didn't understand the reason for, a wound that shouldn't have been there because sometimes, being a normal human does make you inferior because metas alone can take advantage of their powers to dodge or fend off attacks when a normal human being would just have to deal with being-
-there was something wrong about this situation. Something deeper than what Bruce could see from the surface. He'd trusted Wally to defend himself, but the man hadn't. Not even when he could. Not even after he specifically assured Batman that he could.
Flash-you still have some of your powers, right?
My powers? Uh, yeah. Why?
Why.
The zombies were becoming useless as a distraction, enough so that Batman began to feel a certain careless lightness when he dispatched them, forgetting to be disturbed at the implications of destroying human corpses. The restraint that'd halted his blows before was gone, leaving his limbs free to break whatever he liked in his rush to get to the next destination. All his thoughts now were focused on getting the two of them to some place of relative safety-or, at least, some place that could equip them enough so that they could stay safe no matter where they went. Wally was rapidly falling behind him, so Batman checked his pace and decelerated until he was once again near the Flash, even if he was still a bit ahead of him.
"We're making a right on this street," Batman managed between another two blows.
"There's an auto repair shop that might get us some cover-can you make it?"
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That was when the ground started sprouting zombies.
"Oh, come on!" Bart said, slapping his own forehead. "Is this the best you can come up with now? What, is someone in Programming bored? Or did you all just run out of good ideas?"
Seriously, zombies? In a setting like this? Talk about cliche! They weren't even the scary Resident Evil kind, just your standard shambling horde. Dodging them wasn't a problem, with Bart's superspeed.
"I know you're going all out with the horror tropes, here," he said conversationally, kicking one zombie's knees out from under it when it goes a little too close, "But would it kill you to at least try for a little originality? It's bad enough that your evil mastermind sounds like he's reading from the "How to be a Supervillain" handbook, so now you've got to rip off Silent Hill too?"
Continuing to bitch at an invisible -- and possible non-existent -- programmer, Bart wasn't really paying attention to where he was going as he continued to dodge the slow, clumsy zombies and their attempts to devour his flesh -- which is probably why it came as such a shock to realize that dodging that was gradually getting more and more difficult. It felt like, for every zombie he avoided, there were three more ready to take its place. While he'd been talking, the horde had been steadily growing -- and now he was surrounded.
Okay, so maybe they were a little more of a threat than he'd expected...But that didn't mean he couldn't get out of this somehow, right?
...Why did that train of thought seem so familiar?
With a startled yelp, Bart found himself falling right into the arms of a zombie standing behind him as he tried to dodge a rotting arm that passed way too close to his face for comfort. Of course, that had nothing on the stinking growl that ruffled his hair -- until he turned at speed and punched it in the face, sending it crashing down.
"Ew..." Oh frak, he had zombie gore on his hand! And it was soaking into the bandage...there was no way that could be good for his cuts. Quickly wiping his hand off on his coat, Bart lowered his shoulder and deliberately crashed into the wave of zombies closest to the street, determinedly trying to break free of the knot. Rotting hands grabbed for his arms, coat, and hair, but he ignored them, only lashing out at the ones right in his way. He'd really underestimated these things; and if he was having problems, even with superspeed, what about all the completely normal patients elsewhere in town? He needed to find Kon and Tim, so they could come up with a plan for helping the people who'd need it!
Finally breaking free of the cluster that had surrounded him while he wasn't paying attention, Bart stood in the center of the street, still surrounded, but with at least a couple seconds breathing space. He could use that to re-orient himself; he knew he still wasn't thinking completely clearly, which was why it was so important he find Tim.
"I'll never be able to enjoy Silent Hill again," Bart said mournfully, looking around. Where would an emotionally-stunted detective/sidekick most likely be, at a time like this...?
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Too bad the answer seemed to be a 'no' on that one. It would have made things a lot easier.
"I- yeah. I can make it," he answered. It might have been more convincing if he hadn't sounded so tired, but he was determined to make it true, even if he had to--
Wait. There was a flicker of movement, too fast to be human, but then Wally was all too familiar with that idea. And he knew only two other people who could move like that in a place like this. He half turned, and a glimpse of wild brown hair confirmed his fears.
It was Bart and he was surrounded by zombies. Worse, he didn't seem to be making as much of an effort to get away from them all. They were all around him and he- he was just standing there...
It had to have been whatever was done to him the night before in that tiny room on the other side of the TV screen. While they hadn't done anything to Bart's speed, whatever they had done to his mind...
A zombie blocked his view for a moment, and Wally realised he'd just been standing there again, not even doing anything when Bart needed him. His lips thinned into a tight line, and he swung hard at the thing in front of him, knocking it down and out of the way so he could slip past. He didn't care about his bleeding shoulder or if Bats had even noticed him running off in a different direction, all that mattered was getting to Bart. Before a zombie beat him to it.
Almost as if it had heard him, one of the rotting monstrosities made a lunge at the kid's back and Bart was just... Wally wasn't even sure if he'd noticed. But by then it didn't matter because even moving at a normal run, he could still plough into the thing hard enough to take them both down without it laying a finger on Bart.
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The same way you still have some of your powers? Batman thought sardonically before he could stop himself. He sent one more corpse flying with more force than strictly necessary, and the splatter from the blow drenched his upper right arm almost completely.
Whatever had made these corpses the way they were...Batman had to hope weren't spread from skin-to-skin contact. Or maybe, he didn't need hope to guess that the zombies' "illness" couldn't be spread so easily. He remembered the look on the doctor's face from last night-the clean, calculating precision that defined the lines of his silhouette and his weapons. The doctor bore the look of a man too focused to approve of indiscriminate, large-scale slaughter; the zombies were likely here not to destroy them, but test them. Either that, or weed some of them out.
Batman looked at Wally. His shoulder was still bleeding.
They passed more groups of people, and there was a certain (though minor) gratification in seeing that most were fighting back. Batman kept running, pausing when he noticed an atypically large cluster of corpses. The groups that were fighting tended to scatter the zombies as they went, so such a large group of creatures in one place could mean-
Batman's eyes widened when he finally glimpsed the figure in the center, and almost by a reflex he turned to see what could only be described as a grim, painful expression on the Flash's face before the man broke suddenly into a run-charging straight towards Bart Allen's location.
"FLASH!" A curse rang through Batman's head as he socked two corpses that tried to follow the Flash before turning his back and going after the man himself.
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Somebody shouted something, but Bart wasn't listening, already turning to keep track of Wally. At first, he couldn't even register what he was seeing; the Flash, grappling -- grappling! When he should have been using the same hit and run tactics Bart was using, that he'd first learned from Wally! -- with the zombie, blood pouring from his shoulder. That. That was just so wrong! The Flash wasn't supposed to get hurt, not like that! He was way too fast!
Forgetting about the other zombies already closing in, Bart joined the melee, trying to to bodily drag the zombie off his cousin and punching it in the head at speed when that didn't work. Was there any way this situation could get more screwed up?
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Blood and rot made it difficult for him to get a good grip on it, but he managed, at least enough to keep it from biting him like the other one had and things looked like they might be working out okay in a hopefully-not-getting-chewed-on way--
At least until Bart, instead of getting some distance like Wally had hoped, jumped straight in, first trying to drag the zombie away from him and then punching it when that didn't work. The blow only stunned it for a moment, then the creature lunged at Bart, mouth wide and lined with rotted teeth.
"No!" Wally yelled. There was no way, under any circumstances, he was going to let Bart get hurt while he was around. Not after last night. And he'd been injured once already, so another bite really wasn't going to change anything as far as he was concerned...
So as the zombie struck at Bart, Wally shoved his forearm, slick with blood running down from his shoulder, into its mouth. It bit down and he clenched his jaw against the pain, directing a intense look at Bart.
"Get some distance," he managed. "There's too many for you to handle."
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The utter coldness of the voice that'd spoken was matched only the brutality of the actions that followed next. There was no more warning than the sound of corpses being shoved aside and broken through before a pair of hands came into view from behind the corpse biting Wally. A pair of hands that proceeded to rip the corpse's spinal cord from its neck, and from the opening that the bone left, reached inside and took hold of the zombie's central nervous system in the most direct way possible.
The Batman said nothing more as he proceeded to tear the creature's brain out. Movements revealing nothing more than detached, absolute efficiency, he said nothing as the back of the zombie's skull shattered and cut into his forearms as he yanked out the greyish matter, exterminating the corpse in the one way that would not cause the teeth in Wally West's arms to sink in deeper-- by moving the corpse less.
But that terrible look in his eyes.
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And then Batman came out of nowhere and ripped the zombie's brain out.
Oddly enough, that helped calm Bart down and bring him back to himself. Everyone knew Batman was brutal and freakish; maybe not usually 'rip the bad guy's spine out' brutal, but these weren't real people they were dealing with after all, they were zombies. It made perfect sense for Batman to take them down as quickly as possible, as efficiently as possible.
And Bart had to admit, ripping a zombie's brain out was pretty efficient.
"How do we make it let go of him?" Bart asked, (mostly) fearlessly -- and then remembered that, oh yeah, they were surrounded by zombies, and was on his feet and stunning a zombie coming up behind Batman probably before the utterly badass, but still completely normal hero had time to even notice it coming.
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--ripped the zombie's body apart.
With his bare hands.
If that hadn't been enough to send an icy knife of fear into his gut, the other man's face would have done the trick. He'd seen that expression before, last night on the TV screen. And he remembered all too well what had happened then and how Bruce had been after. Again he had to wonder why the zombie attacks had to happen tonight, of all nights. But he had a feeling he already knew the answer to that. Somewhere the Head Doctor was laughing, he just knew it-
A zombie moved up behind Batman and Wally tensed up, knowing that it was impossible for him to do something with how things were now, but trying to think of a way around it anyway.
"Look out!" He didn't even manage to finish the warning before Bart was there, hitting the thing hard enough to stun it. Wally sagged in relief, but it wasn't over yet. He was beginning to wonder if it ever would be.
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Just the way it should be.
Time had stopped, but when it began moving again Batman removed the stony, evaluating look from Bart Allen's person and redirected it where it was needed most.
He said nothing this time as he went to work. Nothing so much as a hold still or stop talking for warning before the Batman took hold of the zombie's skull firmly in hand-one on the bottom jaw, another on the top-and began the grim work of prying the destroyed creature's maw off.
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And besides, punching zombies helped him avoid thinking about what just might be wrong with Wally...
His bandages hands were coated in gore at this point, but Bart tried to ignore it. Wally needed him, and as completely screwed up as that entire concept was, Bart wouldn't, couldn't let him down. The zombies could try to close in all they wanted, attracted by the smell of blood, but Bart was holding them back. For now.
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Maybe if he was lucky, he'd be unconscious from blood loss by then.
Lame comments aside, watching Bats pry apart the rotting jaw of some dead guy was just freaky, so Wally instead focussed on Bart. His perceptions were always faster than normal - even during the day when he couldn't use his speed, which was just weird - so keeping an eye on the kid wasn't that hard. And while he knew that Bart didn't really need someone to watch over him right now, he felt better just keeping a watch out. Just in case.
There was a crack and the pressure on his arm eased. Wally turned back to what Bats was doing and made a face as the remains of the zombie was pulled away.
"That is just disgusting," he said, struggling to his feet. His head spun a little, but there were still zombies everywhere, even if Bart was keeping them back so far. Passing out had to come later, if he had any say in the matter. "Which way now?"
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"Ahead. We're making a right on Wicker Street and heading for the repair shop."
He didn't look at the Flash again when he began to run-even the brief pause before his movement was spent leveling a cross between a wary and expectant look at Impulse, anticipating the boy's superspeed run ahead of them.
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He could even think about it without freaking out too badly, if he thought of it as escort mission. And ignored the fact that he really sucked at those.
"What happened to you?" he hissed at Wally, falling back to guard the Flash's injured side as all three began to run. He carefully didn't look at his shoulder; he wasn't sure he could look at all that blood for too long without freaking out again.
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Noticing Bart's worried look, Wally flashed a quick smile down at the kid, doing his best to look not 'I think I'm on the verge of passing out'.
"Don't worry about me," he said. "With you and Bats here, I'll be fine." It was hopefully true; they were definitely making better headway against the zombies anyway. But still, even as they rounded the corner into the street Bats had indicated, Wally couldn't help but try and keep an eye on both of them, just in case. Bats might be pissed at him for getting bitten twice, but the fact of the matter was that if it was that or one of the others getting hurt, Wally would cheerfully do it again.
[to here]
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