Shorty Drive a Poodle with No Top
You thanked every star above your head that your suit had a filtration system, because you were sure the air smells like actual horse ass. (You unfortunately knew this from once pissing off Web-Slinger).
Actually, even the undead were looking a little queasy. You watched one that had to have been a cvs employee tightly clench onto one of those hand sanitizer stands, uncaringly knocking around the other zombies. Another, a poor soul stuck forever in an ugly ass sweater, seemed to deliberately keep a radius of six feet between themselves and the rotting corpses next to them. Hell, some seemed to purposefully ignore the smell to instead chase after the sweaty stench of live flesh.
Wait.
Shit, enough zombie watching! They’re chasing after a young disheveled couple as you narrate the zombie goddamn apocalypse! Enough shenanigans!
You jumped from the building, and shot out a web towards a higher roof and another to wrap around the couple.
Twisting midair to send them up, you slid onto the roof, shooting out a stronger web to fully pull them towards you.
You may or may not have smirked at the matching screams and panicky astonishment of the two.
“Hope you two don’t mind, but I prefer popping up over dropping in.” Your suit covered your whole face, but you weren’t entirely sure the amusement didn’t reflect out your lenses.
The blonde woman just gaped, her entire body shaking.
Her partner, a brunette, gasped and wrenched them both further onto the rooftop. Breathing hard, she looked over the other for injuries, before warily turning back to you.
As comfortingly as you could, you let them down. You told them about the evacuation routes left, and that you would only help them reach safety points. You couldn’t personally escort them out of the city, not with however many alive people there were. (Or animals. Nobody would want a zombie tiger or for Rover to be trapped in his kennel).
The brunette was more agreeable with this, as she was a trained and licensed gun owner. You could tell by the way she kept her body in front of her partner and the way she never quite let her guard down that she was more than determined to get themselves to safety. The blonde, on the other hand, had clearly suffered a horrible loss, and had wanted you to help them get out, stating that they were surely the last left in the city.
Of course, she was totally sensible in that, but there was no way you were going to let this place just fall apart. It didn’t matter if you lost your life or a limb staying an extra second: if there was anybody in Raccoon City, you were going to get them out.
That also wasn’t even mentioning Umbrellas stupid ass ‘secret’ underground operation underneath the goddamn police station.
In the event that the virus spread, or the zombies were captured and weaponized, a vaccine was needed. A vaccine that was stupidly squirreled away in said underground lab. You had planned on going there before the virus had actually spread, but you couldn’t miss the opportunity to save so many civilians.
But if you hadn’t been a blot of ink in the government’s list, you probably were now. They knew you were out there, yeah, but now they had eyewitnesses.
You had swung over several buildings, the brunette piggy-backed and the blonde webbed onto your side like a koala on a tree. Dropping down unto a bridge mostly blocked off, you directed the two on where to go next.
It was as you turned to leave the blonde spoke up again, her partner glancing before returning to studying the surroundings. “W-wait, just who are you?”
And gosh, you couldn’t just brush that off. She was so earnest, and her eyes were wide.
“…Call me The Spider.” You gave a small wave before you shot a web up and left.
===========================
After watching them leave your peripheral, you swung back to where you once were, increasingly closing in on the police station.
You had started at the boundaries of the city, had even scoped out the coast, and were completely aware that the people near the station were likely in the most danger.
In the event of a mass emergency, where do people turn to first? The police, hospitals, gun shops, and highways out. With the ‘quarantine’ the government had enacted, you guessed around 30-40% of people had been evacuated before they even knew what the virus was or what was going on. It was likely that probably 15-20% percent were dead-dead, and that the rest were zombies. With the exception of the occasional survivor you ran into, or found by listening for screaming. Like now.
You quickened your swings, that was close enough to the police station that zombies were going to be coming in hot and ready. (Ew, what?!)
You followed you spider sense to the abrupt stop onto a store roof. Looking down at the barely on neon LEDs, you saw that it was a gun store.
“Dad!”
Looking down to the closed off alleyway of the building, you saw a zombie had managed to get past the fence and had cornered a maybe 7-year-old on the next building’s fire escape. There was a man with a shotgun trying to hold off the many more pouring through the fence gap.
You threw yourself down into the alleyway, webbing the zombie next to the girl to a wall. Ducking down, dodging zombies so the man could shoot, you hurriedly pushed a large dumpster over the hole in the fence line that threatened more.
Turning to the man, you yelled for him to bust open the door to the gun shop.
Dodging through zombies again, you reached out for the young girl. And you said something you thought would allow you to pull her to safety, “I’m a superhero! Quick, get inside the store!”
The young girl was stunned, tearily reaching for you. You picked her up and ran into the open store, kicking the door shut.
To immediately run face first (well, mask first) into the barrel of a really fucking hot shotgun!
“Holy fu<4@&£ $h#^-!” You aren’t proud to admit it, but you totally fucked up that kid’s clean vocabulary. But as startled as she was, the man wasn’t, and he just leveled it at your chest.
“Put her down. Now.”
With one hand you massaged your nose, and with the other you curled protectively over the girl. Ignoring the gun (god, you’re an idiot) you asked the girl if she knew this guy.
“He’s my dad!”
And with that, you slowly put her down, to not get shot the fuck up.
“Geez, I appreciate the suspicion, but you couldn’t have had used a colder gun? It feels like my nose is on fire.”
The man just ducked to embrace his daughter, half-holding half-shielding her from you. “Just who the hell are you?”
Annoyingly, but smartly, he still held his weapon up. “Just your friendly neighborhood back alley spider.”
And yeah, maybe sassing the guy holding a gun to your chest wasn’t big-brain, but you were tired.