Author's note: I don't think any messages are going through, so...
Safayi, thanks for reviewing! I hope you'll continue to enjoy it.
MsBrooklyn, as a matter of fact, I don't ever get tired of your (very flattering!) reviews. I'm glad to know that my particular brand of scary/funny/weird is appreciated.
BiteMeTechie, actually, I haven't read any Stephen King lately...(I feel so neglectful.) Raggedy Man is from Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome, (pardon me while I make a sound of glee) and the other line is something my mom used to say to me. Although she always said, "Don't you know that when you assume, you make an ass out of you and I?" And I could never manage to convince her that she was saying it wrong.
Doug Bradley is sex incarnate!
SomeKindofIdiot, I'm glad you're excited. Any zombie lover is aces in my book!
Thanks for reviewing, all of you. And for those of you who read and don't review, well...hi. Your feedback would be greatly appreciated...but it's still good just to know you're out there.
(-carefully aims some floodlights at the review button-)
Meanwhile, in the city…
The few remaining pockets of true life were usually marked by the sound of hysterical screaming, weeping and gnashing of teeth—that kind of thing.
Which is why the two of them managed to surprise each other.
Robin was used to silence and surprises (he worked with Batman, after all) so he managed not to take off her head with his birdarang when he rounded a corner and saw her coming toward him at a dead run, although it was a struggle to suppress his fight-or-flight instincts long enough to make sure she was still alive.
Catwoman was used to being silent and causing surprise. She was most certainly not used to having anyone but the Dark Knight sneak up on her. The only thing that kept her from shooting anything and everything that moved, Boy Wonder included, was the fact that she didn't want to attract any more of the walking dead to her with the sound of a gunshot.
His eyes went very wide as he focused on the gun pointed at him. Her mind unfroze enough to feel a bit of pity for the boy, as she realized that he, at least, was still himself. She lowered her weapon slightly, still alert, now aiming at a spot somewhere off to his left.
"Hello, Robin," she said softly. Her voice sounded very tired and very old. She had completely lost her usual seductive purr, not that she felt anything like that for this child, but by now it had become a force of habit. Only, now, in the space of a single night, it seemed the habit of a lifetime had been broken. Sex appeal, teasing, and the promise of whips and leather had no effect on the dead.
"Catwoman?" The boy's voice broke. She knew that he was strong, and Batman had trained him very, very well. She knew that most likely only his training and his own inner strength were keeping him standing now, when an ordinary boy his age would probably be hysterical, or, more likely, dead. As it was, he must be very near the edge. He must have seen things tonight that could have driven a grown man insane. She wouldn't have blamed him for crying or showing some other sign of weakness (her own mouth still tasted of vomit…she suspected it would for a long time yet) but he just stood there, staring at her, slightly dazed and clearly terrified, but standing tall through sheer force of will.
And Batman had sent him out into all of this, alone. Necessary, yes—those who were still alive needed all the help they could get. But cruel, she thought. Heartless of him to send the boy out all alone.
And yet, he was coping better than she would have at that age—in fact, about as well as she was now—and Selina actually felt a little proud of him, almost as if he were hers.
"How are you doing, kid?" she asked.
"I…" He shivered once and then collected himself. "Where did you get the gun? I thought you didn't carry a gun."
"I took it off a cop," she said, too harshly. She didn't have to tell him that the cop had been dead at the time, dead and still walking. She didn't want to tell him that the cop had been Jim Gordon.
"W-what are you doing out here?"
"Just helping out, wherever I can. Just like you." She reached out to touch his shoulder. He flinched. "I'm not having much luck." He looked away.
"Me neither," he whispered.
"Come with me," she said. "Batman—" The boy looked up at her, stricken, and it occurred to her for the first time that his mentor might not have sent him out alone. "Is he still alive?"
"I—I think so. He hasn't been answering his communicator, but…he never answers his communicator," Robin said bitterly. "Batgirl isn't answering, either. I think…something may have…probably happened to her."
"I'm sorry," she said, unwilling to lie to him and tell him that his friend was going to be all right, as much as they both may have wanted to believe it. "Batman should have known better than to send children out alone on a night like this." Robin pulled away from her.
"We're not kids! I mean, sure, I'm a kid, but I can…should be able to handle this. Besides, there are people out there who need me." He stared up at her with such youthful defiance that she couldn't help responding with a tired smile.
"But you shouldn't have to do it alone. Come with me, Robin. We can face this together."