A/N: Wow, I feel really horrible about taking so long to update this fic, so I made this chapter extra long. ^_^; But I do have an excuse this time, though (surprise, surprise). My flash drive was corrupted, and I apparently lost all my notes on this story. O_O Luckily, I think I remember where I wanted to go with this story, plus I have a few new ideas. So anyway, read on! :D

Chapter Nine: Returning to the Beginning

Vandal cursed loudly, but my mind wasn't really on him at the moment. I could only stare out into the pouring rain, feeling numb as I saw the car parked several hundred feet behind the row of infected. Their leader bellowed again, the wordless battle cry echoing eerily throughout the empty city. Somewhere out there among the battered buildings, the call was answered with a ghostly wail.

Jake whined from beside me, sounding absolutely terrified. And I didn't really blame him.

Well, so this was it. After all this time, after managing to evade the hordes of hungry infected for a whole year, after losing my friends and gaining Jake, I was going to die. I wasn't going to be able to survive, to find out if any other members of the League had, though it was painfully doubtful.

I felt like falling over and letting the infected devour my flesh, hopefully making my death fairly swift. But for some reason, I was still standing. This was actually kind of surprising to me, though at least the unimaginable pain radiating through my body was starting to fade. I wasn't sure whether this was good or not, but I couldn't really bring myself to care.

Vandal was muttering something that I couldn't exactly make out through the dull ringing in my ears. Then he shook me roughly, and everything unexpectedly snapped back into focus.

The rain pounded again my face, and my clothes were already soaking wet, clinging to my body like a second skin. My arm, aching much like the rest of me was, was still thrown around the back of Vandal's neck. Thunder rumbled on the distant horizon, echoed by the leader of the group of infected. Jake whined, fur brushing against my leg through my dripping jeans. And the pack of zombies stayed completely still some distance before us, panting loudly through their open mouths while their rotted chests heaved up and down.

Suddenly recalling that Vandal had been trying to say something, I groggily shook myself. "What?" I asked stupidly, trying not to notice that several of the infected looked interested at the sound of my low voice.

"Get ready to run, West," he hissed into my ear. It took me a second to process his words, and by the time I had figured out that he was planning something, he had raised the gun and fired off three shots into the crowd of infected. Several of them scattered, though only two fell, injured, to the concrete.

My arm slid off his neck during his violent motion, and I stumbled and nearly fell to the ground. I managed to catch my balance just in time, and was momentarily pleased with myself. But then the leader of the infected roared, the sound sending cold terror through my very soul. As I blinked groggily at the pale-skinned creatures, they started to move, surging forward like some bizarre wave of undead monsters. Which was basically what they were.

"Come on, West, move!" Vandal shouted, flinging my arm back around his neck and starting to run. I let myself be dragged along beside him, actually quite surprised that my legs still seemed to be in working order.

We dodged sharply to the left before the infected could guess where we were headed, which was apparently towards the car. I didn't really know just why we were headed for the car, since it wouldn't exactly be a very good shelter with all the glass shattered from the windows. But Vandal seemed to know what he was doing, which was good, since I sure didn't.

Squinting blearily over my shoulder into the driving rain, I saw the scattered creatures turn and head towards us again. Could we never get a break? I was getting seriously tired of all this running; I just wanted to lie down and rest for a little while, to make the pain go away with blissful unconsciousness. But Vandal didn't seem caught up on my current plans, because he was still hauling me along behind him, occasionally firing off a shot or using the gun to club an infected that got too close over the skull.

I was evidentially pretty out of it, because I didn't realize we were already at the car until Vandal was stuffing me unceremoniously through the driver's side door, then hurriedly climbing in behind me. I groaned in pain as he shoved me over into the passenger seat, lacking the strength to pull the lower half of my body up from where it was crammed into the floorboard. Then the engine was revving up, and the car jerked violently into motion, speeding backwards.

"Jake," I mumbled woozily through deadened lips, finding it very difficult to speak. "Where's Jake?"

"He's in the back, and he's fine," Vandal answered tightly, sounding sort of tense. I decided to open my eyes, which was a great effort in itself, and the first thing I saw was Savage, hunched over the steering wheel and gripping it so tightly that his knuckles were white with strain.

Then I shouted with surprise as an infected launched itself onto the front of the car. It landed with a thud on the hood and immediately dug its clawed fingers into the metal. I pulled myself into a straighter position, realizing in the process that we were now driving forward at an incredible speed, though of course nothing that I had previously been used to in my Justice League days. The only reason that I was able to discern this little piece of information was because of the rain that pelted my face, stinging the cuts that I was sure were present there.

Vandal swore, wrenching the wheel sharply to one side. I was flung against the passenger side door, and nearly found myself flying out the broken window. I managed to grab onto the seat and hold myself in as the infected, which hadn't been quite so lucky, flew off the hood and disappeared behind us.

I tried to speak, but my voice came out as a croak instead. Clearing my throat imperceptibly, I managed, "Where…are we…going?"

"Well, we sure as hell can't go back to your house," Vandal pointed out, "seeing as they're all intent on following us as far as they possibly can." He glanced in the rearview mirror, then returned his gaze to the road ahead. "So unless you want every infected in the city to suddenly know where you live, then we're going to have to go out of town for a bit."

This made sense to me, though I couldn't find the words to agree. "But…where are we…?"

"Don't worry about that right now." He looked over at me, then quickly back again, just in time to swerve out of the way of a parked car. "You need to concentrate on staying awake. I'm no expert of course, since I've never really found the time to study medical sciences, but you aren't looking too well right now, West. You need to rest, but it would more than likely be best not to lose consciousness."

I tried to say something, to tell him that I was too tired to stay awake, and to quit bossing me around. I also tried to tell him thanks for saving my life, even though he'd cut it a little close. But unfortunately, nothing like that came out of my mouth.

Then, directly ignoring his instructions, I passed out.

When I came to again, it was to the sound of my stomach growling loudly. I said straight up in my seat, gasping out with dazed confusion, "Who, what, where?"

Vandal smirked from where he was grimly steering the car. "So you've finally decided to grace the world with your presence again, I see."

I grimaced silently as the stiffness in my joints made itself known, and the rest of my body began aching. Glancing down, I saw that my seat, not only wet from rain that had apparently stopped since I'd been unconscious, but soaked from my own blood as well. The entire seat was coated in crimson, and my stomach lurched as I saw the evidence of my wounds.

"Where are we?" I asked thickly, shuddering and glancing away from the sticky redness, which also gruesomely coated my clothing.

Vandal didn't answer, mouth twisting into a thin line. I then heard something in the silence outside the speeding car that made my hair stand on end: an infected, howling hungrily for fresh flesh. And then we had passed the sound, literally leaving it in our dust. Another howl came, then another. It was like a song from the depths of hell itself, echoing all around us as we drove. I didn't know how Vandal had been able to stand it, while I'd had the peacefulness of unconsciousness.

I glanced into the backseat, and saw a drenched Jake curled up in the cramped floorboard. At first, he looked more dead than alive. Thankfully, I figured out in just a few more seconds that it was the noises scaring him, before freaking out and thinking that he really was dead.

"Well?" I asked, clearing my throat when my voice cracked pathetically.

"Not particularly, but your concern is touching," was his cynical reply. He still didn't take his eyes from the road winding ahead into the blackness.

I felt like throttling him, except for the fact that I was still weak from being attacked by the infected, and because he was currently driving the car. And I didn't want to think about what would happen if the car stopped. Let's just say that the hungry creatures prowling the night wouldn't need much prompting to attend an impromptu feast.

"The look of rage on your face is very unbecoming," he noted with a smirk. "And in answer to your previous, more sensible, question, we're going to the only place I can think of that's safe. The only place that has the potential to possess a lab good enough to assist my efforts of creating the cure. And before you ask," he added, intercepting me as my mouth opened, "you'll find out when we get there."

I closed my mouth again and settled into a sullen silence. I wasn't really liking the way this so-called partnership was progressing. He was basically just dragging Jake and I around so he could take a siphon off a few bottles of my blood at a later date, then use it to save the world. Or so he said. I couldn't help a nagging feeling that he was scamming me, thanks to the days when I had gone up against him in red spandex. It was a hard feeling to get past.

And speaking of spandex…I would have thought that I'd be in a whole lot more pain after being mauled by an infected. And yet, for some weird reason, the pain was reduced to dull throbbing, instead of mind-bending agony. Not that I was complaining, of course. I looked down once again at my spilt blood, then averted my eyes. Even after practically living in a zombie horror movie for a year, blood still got to me. Especially my own.

I glanced out my shattered window, squinting into the powerful wind that assaulted my face as we sped down the highway. As we blurred past, I caught a brief glimpse of something with pasty skin and gleaming eyes, its mouth twisted to howl up at the dark sky.

I could also make out towering buildings. We were apparently traveling through a city now, of course as abandoned by living people as the rest of the planet was. I couldn't recognize where exactly we were, though, as it was much too dark. And after a while, all the abandoned buildings in the cavernously empty cities started to look the same.

And yet I could still fuzzily remember a time when the Earth had been full of life, of people. I could still remember how all this had started. Unbidden, I felt my mind drift back to the day I had first learned of how the so-called cure for cancer was actually a dangerous disease.

I was staring blankly at the TV screen, unable to comprehend what I was seeing. The news anchor was talking in a voice that was just a tone above serenity, eyes wide as she read quickly from the teleprompter.

"And I repeat, the alleged cure for cancer, developed just last month by Doctor Gena Adams, is failing. All of those who submitted themselves for treatment, supposedly emerging from the building completely cured, are now exhibiting strange symptoms. Doctors have never seen anything like this in the history of mankind.

"It's…it's some sort of virus. Doctor Brett Wilder, who didn't wish to appear on recorded footage, reports that something inside the cancer vaccine, something that's infecting everyone who has ingested it. It's apparently changing their very DNA, unraveling it, mutating it. No one knows yet what the full extent of the cellular damage will be."

The woman's face was now even paler as she said the next words. "And Wilder also reports that there is a very high possibility that the mutagen could become airborne, that it could infect everyone on this planet." She paused, obviously suppressing some strong emotion as she swallowed hard.

"And yet the President requests that everyone remain calm," she continued in a shaking voice. "A quote from him is as follows: 'My fellow Americans, we must stand together in this crisis and prove that we are better than it. We must not fall weeping to the ground at this alleged threat. So far, we know hardly anything of the supposed mutagen. But when more information comes in, the public will be informed.'"

The news anchor swallowed again. "We'll keep you well-informed with this developing story. And now to Mike, with the weekly weather forecast."

I grabbed the remote and muted the TV, expression settling into a very Bat-ish frown. Everyone had been so excited when the cure for cancer had come out, practically bouncing off the walls as millions of people around the globe had lined up, then walked off with no trace of the cancer remaining in their bodies.

But if that was true, if there was an airborne virus that had the potential to mutate everyone on the planet…what was going to happen to all of us?

My apartment door suddenly opened, and I jumped to my feet with a burst of speed, startled. Linda laughed tiredly when she saw the look on my face, which I'm sure was comical, then placed the five steaming boxes of pizza on my kitchen counter. "Hey, Wally. I brought over some pizza. Thought you might be hungry."

"Always," I said gratefully, efficiently covering up my worry over the troubling newscast. "Thanks, Lin." I blurred over and gave her a kiss on the cheek. She didn't even look surprised; she was starting to get used to my powers.

"So, how was work today?" I asked her, hurrying over to the cabinet and digging for a pair of plates that were actually clean. Actually finding what I was looking for, I handed a plate to Linda and tore open a box. With a flick of my wrist, eight pieces of hot pizza appeared on my plate.

"Well, everyone's in a big to-do about that so-called virus," Linda told me, brow furrowing prettily. "There's going to be a press conference tomorrow afternoon with the President, and Mr. Lenards is planning for me and Beth to cover the story."

I grinned proudly, then looked down at my plate of pizza. "See, that's my girl! Always one step ahead of the other channels, and always right in the middle of–"

Linda's plate shattered as it slipped from her hand and fell to the kitchen tile. Immediately abandoning my pizza, I sped around the counter to her. I felt my eyes grow wide with alarm with I saw the faint sheen of sweet coating her forehead, and the odd gray tint to her skin. "Linda? Linda, what's wrong?" I asked her frantically.

"I'm fine, Wally," she said irritably, raising a shaking hand to smooth hair back from face. "Just a little weak today, that's all."

Something lurched inside me, and then I somehow knew.

I was jarred back into reality as the car lurched unsteadily, seeming almost to falter in its extreme speed. And if that wasn't enough to get me worried, Vandal's creative swearing definitely snapped me back to attention.

"What? What is it?" I asked, blinking several time as I tried to bring my mind back into reality. I glanced over at the speedometer, and felt my eyes widen as I realized that the car was suddenly losing considerable speed. "Um…it's not supposed to do that, is it?"

"We're out of gas," he ground out, hands clenching the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles stood out whitely, like they were glowing. In the backseat, I heard Jake's claws scrabbling on the seat as he sat up, sensing the fact that we were starting to slow down.

I blinked, feeling like Supes had just punched me in the gut. Not that it was possible of course, since he was dead. "Can't you do something?" I asked frantically. Even though I couldn't actually see them, I imagined the infected scattered throughout the city pricking their ears up as we slowed, then loping towards our location.

"I can't fly, West. And since your powers supposedly gave out on you, then we're just going to have to do this the old-fashioned way." He jerked the wheel sharply to one side, and a parked silver minivan loomed up in front of us. He didn't cut back on the speed, and I flinched as I saw the other vehicle looming up in the glassless-windshield.

And then, with a tremendous screeching of brakes, he stopped the car, threw it into park, and was gone. I stared, mouth slightly agape, at the seat where he had once been sitting, and at the empty floorboard where the gun and bag of chemicals had been sitting, then heard the howling.

Stomach lurching nauseatingly, I fumbled for the door handle and finally managed to kick it open. Exploding out onto the pavement and nearly falling, I steadied myself on the door, glass shards slicing into my palm. "Jake, come on!" I shouted urgently, ignoring the pain and fresh blood that welled freely from the skin. But the dog was apparently too afraid, for he didn't move from the backseat.

"West! West, hurry up!" Vandal was yelling in my direction. He was standing by the open door of the minivan, its engine having already rumbled to life.

Sending a frantic gaze over my shoulder, I leaned as far as I could into the car and grabbed my dog by the scruff of his neck. I then dragged him out the door with painful slowness, ignoring his torturous whines of protest.

"West!" The gun went off, bullet imbedding itself in the open car door beside me.

I spun around, letting Jake go, an angry retort already forming on my lips. If he was planning to kill me, why hadn't he already gotten it over with when we'd first met, instead of pretending he actually needed me?

And then I saw the infected, saliva dribbling from its toothy maw as it swiped the air with its claws. I gasped, then dodged to the side as it launched itself at me. It slammed into the side of the battered car, denting it even more than it already was. But I didn't stick around to mourn about the car I had driven for so long. Instead, I took off for the van a short distance away, a yelping Jake hanging right on my heels. As I neared the passenger side of the van, Savage fired again, then slammed his door.

I wrenched my own door open, shoving Jake into the back, then leapt into the seat. Before the door was even properly closed, we were gone again. The hungry infected roared with anger behind us, beating its fists senselessly against the car we had just abandoned.

"That is the slowest damn getaway I have ever seen," Vandal growled at me, foot pressing the accelerator into the floor.

I didn't answer, heart pounding urgently and adrenaline rushing through my body. I didn't think I would ever be able to sleep again, even though tiredness was once again easing over my wounded body.

But I was starting to get slightly annoyed. Once again, I owed Vandal my life. I was starting to get really sloppy, especially for an ex superhero.

I must have eventually managed to doze off again, because I jolted awake to the sound of Vandal saying my name. "It's about time, West," he said irritably. "I've only said your name around a hundred times. Now, I know you're lethally injured and all that, but can you rouse yourself enough to get to safety?"

Ignoring his comment, I sat up and rubbed my eyes with a shaking hand. "Where are we?" I asked groggily, squinting out the front window shield of the minivan into the darkness. I noticed that we were still careening forward, through another city instead of on the open road. And we seemed to be starting to slow down.

"Get ready," he ordered me, instead of answering. "When I stop, get out of the van and run to the building. The first floor will undoubtedly be full of creatures, but the second floor and above won't be. You should know your way around, so head for the elevator. It's secured against everyone except those whose DNA is recorded in the computer files."

"What–" I began with unsuppressed confusion, ignoring my throbbing head.

"Just trust me," he interrupted sharply. "I'll take the gun and shoot anything that gets too close. You take the chemicals and your dog and get inside."

I nodded, frowning as I tried to work out where we could possibly be headed. The city stretched out in front of the van's headlights looked vaguely familiar, but I still couldn't quite place where we were.

Swallowing hard as I caught a glimpse of motion off to one side of the street as we barreled past, I leaned slowly over and grabbed Aunt Iris's old embroidery bag, grimacing as pain shot through me. I hadn't bothered looking in the mirror to see how I looked, but I had to assume that I wasn't my usual handsome self. That infected back at the CCPD had really done a number on me, before Vandal had killed it.

"We're here," Vandal said abruptly, spinning the wheel and sending the car flying sideways into a sudden stop. I hadn't been expecting us to reach our destination quite so quickly, and was flung forward towards the window. I managed to halt myself by grabbing at the sides of my seat. Jake wasn't so lucky; I heard him yelp and roll into the door behind me.

"Go, West, go!" And then Vandal was out of the van, and I heard the gun go off twice. I hurriedly gripped the bag in one hand and kicked the door open. Pain flared through my leg, then I heaved myself out. Jake was right behind me, claws scrabbling on the blood-soaked leather seat. I don't know why I bothered closing the door behind me, but I did.

Then I froze and gaped with shock when I finally realized exactly where we were.

The gun fired again and Vandal shouted something unintelligible. This spurred me back into motion, and I set off at a fast limp for the building towering over me. Infected were snarling rabidly behind me, but I tried to ignore the terrifying sounds, focusing only on getting to safety.

Something sharp snapped together around my ankle, and I cried out in pain. I was beat up enough as it was; I didn't really want losing a leg to join the rest of my problems. I swung my other leg at the head of the infected that was gnawing my flesh, and momentarily stunned it. Shaking it off me, I continued on, trying to move as quickly as I possibly could, despite the fresh blood I could feel leaking out behind me.

Vandal unexpectedly caught up, slowing to a fast jog as he reached my side. "What are you waiting for, West?" he snapped with exasperation, sounding slightly out of breath as he turned around and fired three more times.

When I didn't answer him, saving what little air I had to keep going, he slung my unprotesting arm around his neck and started dragging me along so fast that I stumbled and felt my freshly-injured leg dragging limply along the ground. I kept my lips locked together against a cry of pain as we reached the gaping entrance, inhaling deep breaths through my nose.

Vandal paused to shoot once over his shoulder, then dragged me towards where I knew the elevator was located. I happened to know that it was only just inside the building, though my mind wasn't really on the situation at hand. Even as bloodcurdling cries of the undead echoed all around me, my eyes unfocused, making everything seem blurry and strange.

In my mind's eye, nightmarish scenes flashed past. My friends screamed, creatures roared and hungrily tore away their flesh. Blood spilled against the floor, and various-colored lights flashed brilliantly. And then I was running, like a coward, and leaving the battle behind to save myself. That was the worst mistake of my life, the thing that I regretted the most…

I jolted back into awareness as Vandal grabbed my hand and pressed it against an identification pad beside the elevator, then its doors clanged smoothly apart. Jake fairly threw himself inside, cowering in the corner, and Vandal dragged both of us after him. Then, as I dizzily watched what seemed like thousands of infected racing right at us, the doors closed again, cutting of several screams of frustration and rage.

Vandal pulled away from me and panted for air, this the only sound in the elevator, which was apparently sound-proofed. I leaned wearily against the mirrored wall, studying the achingly familiar elevator with dull interest. I didn't really have enough strength to dwell on the last time I had seen this building, as the pain throbbing throughout my entire body took up most of my thoughts.

"No need to thank me for saving your skin again," Vandal emphasized, and I saw him glancing over at me with that something that could have almost been concern from the corner of my eye.

I didn't answer, my gaze instead focusing on the reflective wall just across from me. I looked like death warmed over, like I was actually one of the infected. Every bit of exposed skin was raw and oozing, and my clothes were torn and hanging limply from my body. Fresh blood leaked from my ankle, already forming a small puddle, and dried blood crusted my face. I almost couldn't recognize myself, because even my eyes looked lifeless, lacking their usual sparkle. "I look like crap," I announced in a dull voice, trying to lighten the situation a little. But my feeble attempt at a joke didn't really do much, because it was the truth.

"I would say that I'm not going to argue with that assumption, but it would be terribly rude of me," Vandal remarked, shifting the gun to his left hand so he could wipe away the fresh blood bubbling from a cut on his forehead.

A small smile twisted my lips, the expression looking utterly alien on my reflected face. I loathed even to think it, but my feelings from earlier seemed to be…fading. Even though he had been a psychotic super villain that I had routinely done battle with back in the day, I could already feel myself becoming closer to Vandal Savage. I could only assume that the end of the world brought people closer together, even if they were enemies.

But I couldn't help wondering if I'd still feel the same if the Joker had been the one other survivor. And somehow, I highly doubted it.

The elevator made a cheerful dinging sound, indicating that we'd finally reached our destination. The doors slid apart, and I pushed myself tiredly away from the wall, experiencing a moment of lightheadedness before I could see straight again. Then I stepped out into the second floor control room of the Metro Tower, feeling impulsive tears wet my eyes.

Thanks for reading, and please review if you get the time. :)