The Loft
“We’re not debating this; I’m Batwoman,” Ryan walked away from the taller woman. Well, she tiptoed. They were currently in the loft above The Hold Up. Any movement or sound was sure to alert the flesh-eaters currently ravaging the bar below them.
So the two women were writing, furiously on a notepad.
Sophie stabbed the notepad loud enough to result in Ryan pausing in her tracks. She didn’t get very far. One can’t storm off in a fight in the middle of a lif-saving mission; it would be unwise, “that line is old... And played…” Sophie glared at Ryan.
The shorter woman rolled her eyes. They each felt simultaneous taps on their shoulders: Alice. The darted eyes screamed, “what!”
The forever unwelcome guest flashed her signature serial killer smile.
“No!” Ryan and Sophie mouthed simultaneously.
The box-dye blonde flipped her butterfly knife and gestured for the notepad. Sophie, reluctantly, obliged.
“I have the most experience with dead things–” Sophie grabbed the notepad from the worse (better?) of the Kane sisters.
“So why aren’t you among your people?”
Alice responded with a sarcastic smirk, shrugged, and sat down.
Luke raised his hand from the far right corner of the room. They were all in Mary’s bedroom. Sophie, Ryan, and Alice are standing in the center of the room close to the end of the bed. Mary and Luke were on opposite ends of the room. Mary was focused on listening for any movement at the door to the loft. She knew it was only a matter of time before the zombies had bitten their way through the patrons in the bar. Some would meet their end but a few would eventually join their army.
The team had defeated monsters before but this was different. This was a battle with death itself.
Luke: I’m all for sacrificing Alice
Luke sent it in a text message to Ryan’s phone. The capped crusader looked over at Sophie, to the notepad then back at Sophie, and down to the phone in her hand.
Sophie quickly giggled, “It was your idea, Batwoman,” she paused before silently laughing in Ryan’s face, “still think you should lead us?”
Mary starts waving her hands frantically in an effort to get everyone’s attention. She raises three fingers.
Ryan mouths, “three words… W.T.F? Mary…charades!!! right now?”
Sophie bites her lips and starts staring up at the ceiling.
Luke: I’m going to die
Luke unknowingly spoke out loud. All the eyes in the room landed on Batwing— no armour within sight.
Luke was the only one still focused on Mary. He quickly covered his mouth and pointed back at the newly minted doctor who was frantically…swimming? Her hands moved in the form of a freestyle stroke while her body postured like a scene from Michael Jackson's Thriller. Ryan jumped; Sophie caught her to stop the sudden smack of her legs on the floor. She was surprised and held her composure, signaling to Sophie that she could put her down without alerting the hangry mob.
Ryan grabbed the notepad, “zombies can’t swim. We need to get to an island.”
“Coryana,” Sophie quickly scribbled.
Ryan’s eyes flipped her eyes in circles of disgust, “really. Renee?”
Sophie let out a low, emphatic sigh, “you got me. I planned a zombie apocalypse to relive the sex I don’t remember…”
A pained expression crossed Ryan’s face, her teeth grimacing, her eyebrows sunken, “all is fair in—” Sophie covered Ryan’s mouth before she could finish the sentence. A loud bang interrupted them.
The zombies were at the entrance to the loft.
“I hope your girlfriend is worth it,” Ryan spoke after ripping Sophie’s hand from her face.
“She’s NOT my girlfriend!” Sophie spoke through gritted teeth.
“Focus, please! Death is literally knocking at my door,” Ryan retorted.
“Seriously?!?!”
“I always sense lesbian drama would be my undoing,” Luke dramatically sighed.
“Shut up!” The two women said in unison. Luke wasn’t wrong. If the two women would/could admit to their true feelings for each other, they would be facing the zombie apocalypse with clarity and purpose. Instead, they were bickering… not over anything in particular; it was simply their love language.
“Might I suggest channeling all that sexual tension into an actual plan?” Alice spoke up. She adjusted her corset dress, “I didn’t quite picture myself crossing over in this outfit.”
“Am I supposed to care?”
“Your mother’s jet is on its way,” Mary spoke from the corner, “someone had to come up with a plan? Who better than the sex-deprived straight woman? I haven’t matched in a month,” she sighed.
“I am not about to die because the three of you need sex!” exasperated and scared Luke blurted out his fear of dying.
“Four!” Alice added. Sophie snarled at her, “one’s final words should at least be accurate.”
“Final words?”
“No one is dying on my watch!” affirmatively delivered; Batwoman as she opened a drawer to reveal a stash of weapons.
“Welcome to the zombie apocalypse,” Sophie quipped, “anything in that draw for me?” She presented herself at Ryan’s side.
“Mary, what’s the plan for Jada’s jet?”
“Pun intended?” Sophie joked.
“We’ll decide in the air?” Mary offered this information as a suggestion.
"Sounds good, Sis. Now about the walking dead drawing ever closer to our door?”
Ryan pulled out a box of grenades, “found it!”
“You’ve been holding out on me,” Sophie was impressed.
“Sure about that?” it was an obvious flirt.
“FOCUS, Please!” his hands balled into a fist, sweat beading down his temples, Luke was over it.
The growling grew louder, closer, stronger.
“They’re here!"