Sara's heart suddenly tightened.
She instinctively flicked the living room light switch by the door.
"Click!"
Nothing. The light was out again.
This crappy apartment had unstable voltage; broken appliances were a common occurrence.
As her eyes fixed on the figure behind the curtain, the streetlights outside began to flicker. The furniture in the room, bathed in sporadic light, cast eerie, elongated shadows.
The streetlights flickered one more time, and then, with a faint crackle, they died. The room plunged into darkness, leaving only the night breeze blowing through the open window, making the curtains billow.
It was 2 a.m. in the outskirts of Gotham's Upper East Side. Elsewhere, the city might still be lit up, but here, straddling the border between the slums and the bustling urban core, everything was black and eerily quiet. The window now looked like the gaping maw of some monstrous beast, ready to devour.
Sara had called out softly, but the figure hadn't answered. This was no trick of the light—someone was definitely there behind the curtain.
"Hoo... hoo..."
The figure's breathing was deep and raspy, stirring a primal fear in Sara's heart, filling her mind with terrifying, unspeakable possibilities. A chill ran from the base of her spine to her scalp, goosebumps erupting all over her body. She didn't need a mirror to know her face had gone pale.
The only thing keeping her from fleeing immediately was that the figure's outline resembled her own.
She didn't move closer but bent her knees slightly, preparing to leap backward through the door if necessary. She whispered again, "Dinah, is that you?"
This time, the figure responded.
"Sa...ra..."
The voice was familiar, yet str4nge. It wasn't a response—it was more like a desperate, guttural wail.
That wasn't her sister's voice!
It sounded more like... her own?
Without blinking, Sara subtly shifted her purse to her left hand, while her right hand found the truncheon she always kept h4nging by the door.
In this rundown apartment, she'd had more than a few encounters with der4nged drunks pounding on doors late at night.
Her heart was pounding, blood rushing through her veins. She tried to steady her breathing, her eyes wide.
As if things couldn't get worse, a gust of wind blew into the room, lifting the curtains. Coincidentally, the moon peeked out from behind the clouds.
In the moonlight, Sara finally saw the "person."
No!
That thing couldn't be called a person anymore.
Ignoring the pale, bloodless half of her face, Sara's attention was drawn to the other half, which had completely rotted away.
What a horrifying face!
The skin was gone, revealing a shriveled, dead eye, blackened cheek muscles, and a disgusting, toothless jaw.
Her left chest had decayed to the point that a gaping hole exposed the empty cavity beneath, and through it, Sara could vaguely see the light behind her.
A zombie!?
The most absurd part was that this female zombie still had half of Sara Lance's face!
"Ahh—" Despite her combat skills and having lived in Gotham's violence-filled environment, at the end of the day, Sara was still just a regular person.
The terrifying face triggered an immediate fight-or-flight response. Her left foot shot out, kicking a stool directly toward the creature.
But before the stool could smash into the zombie, the monster swung its bony left claw, shattering the wooden stool to pieces!
Fear surged through Sara.
She could already imagine the next move—this thing was going to tear her apart and devour her.
Without hesitation, as the zombie lunged at her, Sara grabbed a nearby shoe cabinet and hurled it toward the creature.
"Crash!"
The shoe cabinet exploded upon impact, but it bought Sara a second. Without looking back, she bolted from the apartment, not toward the stairs but toward the window at the end of the hallway. She dove through the narrow, half-meter-wide opening, jumping from the third floor. In mid-air, she adjusted her position and executed three perfect flips before landing.
She glanced back!
The zombie was stuck in the window, its awkward limbs smashing against the frame, causing a loud racket.
Several lights flicked on in nearby apartments, only to be quickly turned off again.
In Gotham's slums, the last thing you could count on was your neighbors.
No one knew if the noise coming from your room was the result of a violent domestic dispute, a g4ng hit, or a botched police raid.
But one thing was certain: they would do everything they could to avoid helping you.
Other than yourself, the only people you could rely on were your closest family.
Seeing that the zombie couldn't follow immediately, Sara sprinted down the street while pulling out her phone to call her sister.
"Pick up! Pick up! Pick up, damn it! Come on, sis!"
Sara was on the verge of tears.
She knew her sister had flown off to Dubai with some rich playboy. Whether or not her sister would end up in a fairy tale, Sara didn't care—right now, all she could think about was the time her sister had mentioned taking care of Black Mask. That alone made her sister seem like a lifeline.
Suddenly, there was a second crash behind her—the zombie had smashed through the window and leaped down from the third floor.
Splinters of wood and shards of glass flew everywhere, some embedding themselves in the zombie's decayed flesh, but it didn't seem to care. It landed with a thud, shattering the old sidewalk tiles beneath its feet.
Sara, now a hundred meters away, glanced back. The zombie, with its jerky, uncoordinated movements, was coming after her.
Panic surged again.
Finally, the call connected.
"Sara? What a coincidence, I just got off the plane." Dinah was caught off guard by her sister's frantic scream.
"Sis! Save me! There's a zombie that looks like me chasing me! It knows my name—it's definitely after me!"
Dinah's phone echoed with Sara's shrieks.
In a typical situation, Atreus wouldn't have cared.
But as a seasoned survivalist, Atreus immediately sensed the gravity of the situation in Sara Lance's voice.
Seeing Atreus's serious expression, Black Canary put the phone on speaker.
"Sara, are you serious?"
"Damn it, I'm not joking! If you don't come save me, you'll be picking up my body! That's a freakin' zombie! If it bites me, I'll probably turn into one of those monsters. For Mom's sake, please hurry!"
"Where are you?"
"I was just at home, but I can't wait for the police. And I don't know how to contact Batman. Should I lure the thing to the old place where we used to play hide-and-seek? You bring your boss, that invincible guy!"
Sara's words tumbled out between heavy breaths, with crashing sounds and eerie growls in the background.
Atreus took the phone from Black Canary. "It's Atreus."
"Boss! Save me! I'll do whatever you want if you save me!"
"Fine! We'll be there in ten minutes."
"Ten minutes!? That fast?" Even Sara was shocked.
Atreus hung up the phone, his eyes landing on a helicopter nearby, ready for takeoff.
Without hesitation, he marched over.
"I'm commandeering this chopper!" Atreus pulled open the door and climbed in.
The pilot was dumbfounded but, being a professional, tried to protest. "Sorry, sir, this helicopter is reserved for Mr. Dupont. You have no autho—"
Before he could finish, Atreus's partner Louis quickly unlocked his briefcase, revealing stacks of cash. Without missing a beat, Atreus tossed two bundles of Benjamins into the pilot's face.
"Alright, boss. Where to?"
Money talks, after all.