Happy Halloween! This story is has zombies and it will contain sex... But not zombie sex, because that is disgusting. Chapters are super short and will be updated weekly until the story is done. When will the story be done? I don't know. Stop asking questions. THIS IS WHY WE CAN'T HAVE NICE THINGS!

Robin had never been so thrilled to hear a gun firing. Gunfire meant people. And People meant life.

He ran down a deserted alleyway, lunging at the inside corner and shimmying his way up with a series of well-placed movements. He'd always been agile and fairly strong for his size. Despite losing quite a bit of weight over the past months, he was still in decent shape - at least physically.

Mentally, though… well, he couldn't be too hard on himself, could he? It's hard to say you're sane when the only person around to say it to is yourself… and telling yourself you're not crazy is exactly what crazy sounds like. But maybe that would change. Hopefully. God, please, hopefully. He sprinted across rooftops, leaping over gaps between the buildings and ducking under pipes and wires. He knew the city like the back of his hand; it was his. Always had always been his, but sometime after he became the last one living in it, it somehow felt official.

He ignored the tears that crowded his eyes as he ran, bearing the sting of the wind as he took one final leap into the air. He held his breath, pulling a grappling from his belt and firing it at a lone crane that stood like a skeleton in his dead city. Robin counted in his head as he swung down to the significantly lower rooftop. He had one grappling left after this, about ninety feet of cord, that wouldn't be enough to get him back onto the taller rooftops, but he could probably get into a nearby window if he made a clean shot. Yeah… he could make it and guide the other person to climb over too, if they were able - But first things first: find whoever was shooting and get them to safety.

He skidded to a halt on the edge of the building, giving him a birds' eye view of the courtyard below- and the man standing in the middle of it! He was fiddling with his gun while a small mob of the dead walked closer to him backing him into a corner. Robin didn't think twice, he pulled one of the sniper rifles from his back and crouched down, taking aim through the scope and firing at the rotting bastards. The bullets ripped easily through the skulls, but the sound was no doubt attracting more of them- or at least the ones that could still hear.

"Shit! No- no- no." He whispered in a panic as more of the dead came through the courtyard, clawing and groaning. The man seemed to still be toying with his gun, which was apparently jammed. "LOOK OUT!" Robin yelled, surprised when the man threw the gun aside and pulled a sword from his back. Shit. There were way too many to fight off with just that. What the hell was he thinking? "Just RUN! GET TO HIGHER GROUND!" His voice was filled with a desperate plea as he yelled, feeling tears streaming down his cheeks.

To his horror, the man charged forward and swung; but horror turned to surprise when the swing took out three of the dead with a single swipe. Clean cuts right through the bridge of the nose on each of them. This man was good… He had to be to have survived this long. Good and, of course, lucky.

The teen continued firing as the man fought, ripping through heads like crushing grapes under foot, but Robin knew it wouldn't be enough. He felt his chin trembling as his scope moved from head to head, glancing now and again at the man below.

"Shit… shit…" Robin half cried, half prayed for the empty city to just… just not take this man. Just give him one person.

And that is precisely when the dead closed in, surrounding the man from all sides. He kept swinging his sword, taking them down in droves, but Robin could see their filthy hands grabbing at the man, pulling his hair and his clothes. Robin didn't even think. He certainly didn't rationalize. He simply pulled out his grappling, the last on his belt and the only way to escape the rooftop safely, and fired it to the ground below.

"CLIMB!" Robin begged, the tears streaming down his cheeks. Before he could scream please, the man grabbed the cord and pulled, jerking the teen forward. Robin steadied himself on the aging banister and felt his heart rise into the back of his throat as he choked back a manic cry as the grappling shook in his firm grasp, cord bouncing as the man climbed, ascending quickly in a way that indicated skill and practice.

When the man finally reached the summit and pulled himself to the rooftop, Robin let out a strangled gasp, his entire body shaking as he let out a painful, lonely laugh. The man was on his hands and knees, breathing and laughing as well, though it sounded far more controlled than the teen's.

"H-Hey," he managed numbly and let the used grappling slip from his fingers. He fell to the painted rooftop next to his spent device, a sudden rush of emotions that he was not at all prepared to handle. His smile, wide and quivering, fell slowly when he saw the blood running from the man's leg. "No, no, no…" he pleaded to the man, and his dead city, and the desperate feeling of hope leaving him once again as he realized the man had been bitten.

"Hello, Robin."

The voice made the teen stop dead in his lamentations. The terrified blue eyes gazed at him with fear and hate as the hero came to a horrifying conclusion.

He had just wasted his only means of escape on Slade.

Robin's a sucker. That's a joke because it's Halloween. Halloween = candy = sucker.
Laugh or I will punish you. That is also a joke, because puns.

This is what happens when I'm left to my own devices.