Batman/Resident Evil: The Gotham Protocol

Chapter 10

By: Christopher W. Blaine

e-mail: darth_yoshi@yahoo.com

DISCLAIMER: Resident Evil™ is a registered product of Capcom Inc./Batman™ is a registered product of DC Comics Inc. Neither of these properties is used here with permission. This original story idea is ©2003 by Christopher W. Blaine.

Batman and Chris continued on in silence. The Dark Knight getting more upset with each passing moment, but not at the young cop. Instead, Chris's words echoed constantly through Batman's keen mind as he realized how blind he really had been over the years. It brought along with it so many more questions.

Was the reason why Batman didn't look into white-collar crimes because he himself was a member of the financial elite? Despite all of the efforts he put into his war on crime, did he subconsciously look the other way for his powerful and wealthy peers? Any other time he would have denied it, but then he remembered how many times over the years Green Arrow had accused him of that very thing. Was he really part of the fascist/capitalist machine of corporate America?

Chris, on the other hand, spent his quiet time wondering if perhaps Jill and Rebecca's hero worship was misplaced. He had always heard that the Batman was some sort of genius, a master crime fighter. What was now leading the way was more of a mystery; a man who tried to put up a front that he was the definition of action, yet hesitated to do what needed to be done.

They stepped to the next set of doors in the main passageway and quietly listened. The only sound was Chris's breathing. The door to their left was marked OPERATING ROOM; it was directly across from the LUNCHROOM. "Lovely layout," Chris whispered.

Batman said nothing but pointed to the operating room door, indicating that he wanted to try there first. Chris nodded and they slowly entered. The door did not creak, but the smell was so bad it could have had sound. It screamed into their nostrils and Chris had to fight his gag reflex.

A zombie was inside, slowly devouring a body. It was a bloated creature, having gorged itself on the abundance of dead bodies in the room. Chris immediately counted at least six corpses, fresh ones, strewn about the room. Batman's knuckles cracked as he made a fist and rushed the creature.

The zombie turned it's head and saw the bat-shaped figure approaching and Chris was amazed that it actually flinched in fear. It dropped the arm it had been chewing on and rolled away just in time to avoid the coming fist. It made an attempt to scream, but it came out as a high-pitched moan. Batman was quick to follow up and Chris thought at first he was insane with rage.

When Batman stopped his attack to examine the bodies around where the zombie had been, Chris understood that the Caped Crusader was looking for survivors. The zombie was far enough away that Chris didn't hesitate to draw and pull the trigger. His gun, however, refused to comply and it jammed.

He thought he heard a "Ha!" from Batman, but he dismissed while he drew his second weapon. The zombie realized that Batman was a human, warm and tasty, and regained it's inhuman composure. It swung and it nails raked across the hero's heavy boot, digging into the leather. By reflex, Batman kicked out with a strike meant to disable, but it caught the creature on the shoulder, dislocating it. The monster gasped only because its lungs deflated, but it soon recovered.

Batman again kicked out and nearly tripped over a half-eaten corpse. It was like trying to fight in Purgatory Batman thought as he avoided a third attempt to turn him into a meal. The pale light just managed to catch the zombie's eyes and Batman searched them for any intelligence. There was none, not even the pleading look of a trapped soul. Anything that made the thing sentient was gone.

He wasted no more time and pulled out his batarang and hooked a rope to it. Maybe he could trap the thing until a cure could be found. Chris's gun prevented Batman from getting the chance to find out. Three shots disintegrated the zombie's head, leaving a splattering of flesh-like paste on the wall. Batman shook his head and put the batarang away. There was no sense making his feelings known. It was a matter of faith now; Batman believed he could find a cure and Chris thought he already had it.

"Christ," Chris said as he put his weapon away. He looked at the carnage on the floor and turned to look at the walls. "It doesn't make sense; why couldn't they get out? The door wasn't locked."

Batman reached down for the stump of an arm. "No hands. Umbrella cut their hands off so they couldn't get out." Chris saw that the hand had been removed at the wrist neatly, not chewed off, as one would expect. The end was blackened as well.  "They cauterized the wound."

Chris blew out. "This was personal."

Batman agreed and they set about trying to discover what they could from the remains. In the end they learned nothing more. "Have you ever seen carnage like this?" Chris asked.

Batman was silent for a second. "Yes," he said and then he changed the subject. "This is getting too deep. We need to let the local police know so they can evacuate the area."

Chris wasn't sure about that. 'We don't know if the GCPD is infiltrated…"

"I don't care," Batman said. "I'll admit that perhaps I underestimated the evil that Umbrella was willing to commit itself to…this is beyond simple corporate scandal or a CEO trying to cover his crimes. This is something almost biblical in its horror."

Chris wanted to argue, to tell Batman that they had tried to explain the situation to the heroes, but he realized it wouldn't do any good. He turned away as Batman tried to raise Oracle on his radio and he stared at the pile of bodies. Had he become so accustomed to death and pain that it no longer affected him? Was he becoming a zombie himself, feeding off his mission? Had his emotions ceased to work in order to keep his mind from shattering?

He wondered how long it would be before he put on a leather costume and started swinging from rooftops. "I can't get through," Batman said. He cast a glance to the overhead. "This could have served as a bomb shelter. Probably shielded."

"Do you want to step outside?" Chris asked.

Batman looked to the door leading out; it seemed inviting him to step out of the grave and into the light. He resisted temptation. Every second counted. "I'll try in every room; maybe some of them are newer additions."

Chris didn't argue and fell in behind the Batman as he pressed forward.

"I do not understand," Batgirl said. Rebecca could not know it, but the young woman inside the Batgirl costume had spent most of her life unable to speak. She had been taught to express herself with violence by her father, a mercenary/assassin. Things such as slang still escaped her. "I'm within what kind of hair of blowing myself up?"

Arsenal's jolly laugh filled her cowl. "You are a riot, BG," the archer said. "If only you were a little older!"

"Oh, yes, it does break my heart," she responded as she returned her attention to the mess of wires. Rebecca stood behind her with a flashlight and shined it down. "So, you do not want me to cut the green wire?"

"Right, cut the green with the light green stripe," Arsenal told her. His voice suddenly took on a commanding tone. In an instant, he could revert to his selfish, pig-like demeanor but for the moment he was ready to teach her the intricacies of bomb disarmament. "Just make sure to keep those Bat-clippers away from that green wire."

"You actually call them Bat-clippers?" Rebecca asked. She was close enough that she could just pick up the sound of Arsenal's voice.

Batgirl cut the wire. "As I understand it, Arsenal used to ride around in the Arrow-Car."

Rebecca did not immediately respond, but instead did a quick scan. She felt like she was being watched. "Yeah, well it was cool back then," Arsenal told Batgirl. "You just wait, pretty soon you'll be asking 'dad' for the keys to the Batmobile…"

"Something's out there," Rebecca said. Batgirl slowly stood up and switched her lenses to telephoto. She didn't see anything and switched over to starlight. There was still nothing. "Are you sure?" she asked.

Rebecca took a small step forward and pointed to a section of fence at the very back end of the property. There was a single, dimmed light in the corner. "I saw someone hop the fence."

"It could be kids," Batgirl said. "We cannot allow them to wander the property alone."

"What about the bombs?" Arsenal asked, slightly miffed that his view had been taken away. Rebecca was very nice from the back he had decided.

"We will continue our sweep in that direction," Batgirl announced. Then she added an afterthought. "It might be prudent to get the GCPD bomb squad out here."

"Problem there," Arsenal confessed. "According to Oracle, Nightwing has a good deal of the night shift tangled up with a murder or something at Gotham University. Plus, we're under orders not to call anyone without Batman's permission."

Batgirl clenched her fist in a sign of youthful rebellion. Batman was her hero and she respected him above all other men for his dedication to life, but sometimes he was just too anal-retentive for her tastes. "Green Arrow could override…"

"Right, Green Arrow, the captain of the good ship Liberal, is going to invite the forces of fascism in to save his life," Arsenal snickered. "Well, he might…I'll try contacting him. Oracle is busy with Nightwing."

"I could go for getting busy with Nightwing," Rebecca said under her breath. Batgirl's jaw dropped behind her mask. She had known Rebecca was interested but she hadn't realized she was that interested in her friend. She imagined the two of them together for a brief moment; her face was wide with a smile.

"Please see to it, Arsenal," Batgirl said as she signed off. She and Rebecca started towards the fence. The plan was to move along it towards the back of the property, looking for any building or place where it would be logical to place a bomb.

They didn't talk but instead searched diligently, covering the fifth of a mile to the spot where Rebecca had seen the figure hop the fence. There were boot prints in the mud. Batgirl knelt before them. "Military issue, somebody weighing about two hundred pounds," she commented and then she turned her head back the way they came. "Whomever it was went on the other side of the buildings and is headed directly for the office complex."

"Another of your people?"

Batgirl stood up and considered the list of suspects. "The only one not accounted for would be Robin and he doesn't weigh that much. This is someone else, someone in a hurry."

Jill beat on the large door again with the butt of her pistol. "Open the damn door!"

"Go screw yourself, lady!" a voice called out.

Green Arrow sat a few feet away on top of a recently cleaned-out desk. The guard on the inside of the computer room was not willing to open the door, despite everything from threats to more threats. The Emerald Archer had suggested that Jill disrobe in order to entice the guard out but she had flatly refused. "If he's real Umbrella security, then he's being paid enough to have all the women he wants," she commented.

"No faith in yourself," he had said. She replied with a single finger gesture.

She continued to beat on the door, almost desperate to get in. He understood the power of information and that room could hold the Fort Knox of incriminating evidence, but they weren't going to get going by their current plan. He had suggested using an explosive arrow but after she had checked the door out, she was afraid the resulting damage might hurt the computers.

Green Arrow had noted that she showed no real concern for the guard. It had been a letdown for him, but what had he really expected? She was a cop and though she seemed honest enough and willing to buck the system when necessary, she still represented what he saw as part of the problem with America.

The corporations would throw their support behind politicians, who in turn appointed attorney generals and other top law-enforcement officials. Those people would then be bought off by the corporations and eventually all of the cops, good or bad, were part of the same machine. The only way to fight for the innocent was by not being answerable to anyone.

"How about I talk to him?" Green Arrow offered.

Jill decided it couldn't hurt and besides, it would give her a break from his constant hitting on her. He was an attractive man, that was for sure, but she could tell that for all of his preaching, he didn't consider women as part of his great melting pot. Green Arrow was the kind of person who felt everyone deserved to be treated fairly until they got into his bedroom.

In that respect, he was like most of the men Jill had encountered in her life. The curse of being a pretty girl was you attracted the ugliest of souls.

She had a brief memory of Vandross and the day of their break-up, when she had informed him of her decision to accept an offer to become a S.T.A.R.s agent. He had called her crazy and she had asked him to go with her. "Sorry, love," he had said, "but there's no profit in protecting the innocent."

Green Arrow stepped up to the door and looked at the small camera that was providing live-feed into the room. "Buddy, I know you think that you're just doing your job. You consider yourself an honest Joe, a working-class stiff just trying to earn an honest buck. You want to do the best job you can and I can respect that.

"But you have to see what's going on; you aren't stupid or else you wouldn't be in there running all of that equipment. People are dying, buddy, good people, people who want to earn a paycheck just like you. It isn't fair that they, that those corporate blowholes, bring in millions of dollars on the souls of the people who have died here! "

"Oh shut up!" the guard called out. "Do you think I give a crap? I'm not ruining my 401K over a bunch of bums and street people!"

Green Arrow shook his head and took a few steps back before pulling out his explosive arrow. Jill ordered him to put it back but he ignored her. He sighted on the doorknob, the weakest link in the security chain and let the arrow fly. Jill cursed and jumped behind the desk as the arrow made contact.

The shockwave knocked Jill flat and when she got up to brush the remnants of ceiling tile off of her, she saw Green Arrow down on the floor. It was obvious he wasn't awake and his hat was still rocking slightly next to him where it had fallen. Jill rushed over to him and just dodged a hammy fist. She kicked back, catching the large guard in the groin.

He went down with a whimper and she looked to where he had come out. The heavy door had been thrown straight in where it crushed a computer station. The guard only had to stand to the side and the door would have missed him and absorbed most of the explosion.

While the guard rubbed his wounded manhood and cried tears of true pain, Jill flipped him over and cuffed him. "You have the right to tell me what you know or I'm going to examine the family jewels again!" she warned.

"What the hell kind of cop are you?" the guard said from behind heavy tears.

"A pissed-off one," she said, kicking him in the shoulder. "What do you know about the zombies?"

"I don't know nothin'," the guard replied, defiant.

Jill kicked him again. "Then I'm about to educate you in the lessons of pain."

It took five more kicks before he finally blurted out that most of the specimens, the good ones, had been hauled off weeks before. The only things that were really left were the clean-up crew and the final experiments. He even started to discuss the measures that were being taken for those employees that were deemed security risks when the conversation was abruptly ended.

A large Bowie knife struck the guard in the base of the neck. A perfect kill. Jill turned with her weapon out. "You!"

Vandross took a deep breath and let it out. It was obvious he had been running but he wasn't sweating very much. The breath seemed to be more for effect. "Hello, Jill, long time no see, love."

"You move and I'll shoot," she told him. He noted that her gun was starting to slowly dip.

"Won't do any good, honey," he told her. He opened his coat and slowly went for his pistol. With a casual toss, he threw it to the floor.

She laughed. "I know better; I've stripped you down before."

He flashed her a smile and adjusted his sunglasses. "I guess you have, but you'll find I'm a little different now."

"I heard you died," she said.

He shrugged. "I did. I'm back. It happens all of the time. Modern science performs the miracles of God at half the effort."

"I can't believe you're in league with these people. It's one thing to hire yourself out as a soldier, its another to support genocide," she said.

If the verbal stab wounded him, he didn't show it. "And here I am…one of the blokes that actually believed the Nazis at Nuremberg were just following orders." He took a step towards her and she didn't say anything. "You are so in over your head this time, Jill. Come with me, I can get you out of here."

"And what's the price, Sebastian? Will I have to die and be reborn as a jerk like you?"

"Always so quick to judge, how I missed you," he replied as he took another step.

"I thought I was in love with you, but I was young and stupid," she said as he moved even closer. She flipped the safety off. "Don't think for a second I haven't grown up."