Life, Death, and What Falls Between.
by Chuck "da 'Cat!" Burke

She stood looking out over the darkened Long Island Sound, the wind off the water blowing her long, black hair out behind her. The rustling of dry leaves battled with the hushed roar of the surf. For a time, this area had been home. But that was before the chaos of her life and origins had come home to roost.

"Hey, Donna! What's going on?"

Donna Troy turned at the familiar voice. Roy Harper leaned out of the passenger side window of a black, late-model Porsche. At the wheel, Dick Grayson sat with a smile. She ran toward the car.

"Thanks, guys! I'm so glad you could make it!"

"For you, Wonder Chick, I'll always try to find time!" Roy opened the door and stepped out of the car, then turned and climbed into the back seat.

"You sounded upset, Donna," added Dick. "What's up?"

Donna got into the passenger seat and closed the door. "I, I didn't want to deal with this by myself. But I've been putting this off since I came back from, well,- "

"From the whole Dark Angel mess?" asked Roy, leaning between his two friends.

"Yes. I thought, if I had some emotional support, I could get through it."

"Well, sure," said Dick. "You want to head right out or...?"

"Why don't I treat you boys to dinner, first? Bella's Diner is right up the road."

Five minutes later, the trio was entering a low building with a sweeping arch over the door. "Used to be one of the old railcar diners, then they took that away and built this place. Looks like a five star restaurant, but they still serve good, old-fashioned diner fare." Donna looked around the dining room, then her gaze fixed on a large glass case. "That, and the best cheesecake I've ever had."

"Don't let Alfred hear you say that," chided Dick.

At that moment, a hostess came up to the door. She paused for a couple of seconds when she saw Donna. "Oh, Mrs. Long! It's been..."

"Too long, Marie. Please, a corner table if you have one?"

Marie looked at Roy and Dick, and Donna thought she noted a disapproving shake of the head before the hostess turned and led them to an isolated table in the back corner of the room.

"Terry and I used to come here at least once a week before we moved out to the farm in New Jersey," said Donna as she took a seat. "After we came back, what with Robert and all, we didn't get here as often."

The trio spent the next few minutes reading menus and discussing their choices. A waitress came and introduced herself, and was starting to take their orders when the door flew open.

"Call the police! It's horrible!" The intruder was a young woman with disheveled brown hair and a terrified look on her face. Donna was on her feet and at the woman's side faster than the hostess could react.

"What is it?" asked Donna, placing a hand on the woman's shoulder.

"At, at the cemetery," panted the younger woman. "They're coming out of the ground!"

Roy and Dick looked at each other, and Roy chuckled. "Halloween. You can't beat it for practical jokes."

"I'm not joking!" screamed the woman. "They already got Ricky and- " She turned back toward the door. "They're almost here!"

Donna looked out into the street, then turned back toward her friends. "She's not kidding, guys! It looks like a bad horror movie out there!" Then she turned toward Marie. "Take her. Everyone, go back into the kitchen, grab any knives, or anything long enough to swing like a baseball bat, and guard the doors!"

Dick was already up out of his seat, followed by Roy. "Can't beat it for busting monsters' heads either," he said, looking over his shoulder at Roy. "Let's do it!"

Peeling off their street clothes as they raced out the door, Troia, Nightwing and Arsenal were met by a scene of chaos in the street. Dozens of Northport residents were running down the street, followed by a mob of shambling men and women, moving with jerking, spastic movements.

"Oh, somebody pinch me," said Arsenal, a grin on his face. "A zombie invasion on Halloween? It doesn't get any more fun than this!" He pulled the crossbow from it's holster on his hip and fitted a bolt in it. He fired, and a second later a muffled explosion scattered the front ranks of the zombies. "Come on, you two. Don't let me have all the fun."

Troia's face twisted into a shocked expression as she scanned the mass of shuffling undead. Then, steely resolve took over and she launched herself into the air, coming down in the midst of the rotting creatures. Nightwing followed, firing a jumpline at the steeple of a nearby church and letting it carry him across the distance. He landed near Troia, who was already clearing a path through the mob with a mixture of roundhouse kicks, well-placed punches, and the occasional use of one zombie as a club to take out several others. He pulled a pair of Promethium bo sticks from their sheaths on his costume and started smashing his way through. He tried to ignore the splatter of rotting flesh and gore that erupted with each of Arsenal's explosive bolts.

"Where could they be coming from?" shouted Nightwing.

"Cemetery is about a quarter mile past where I met you. That's why- "

"I need to check it out! You and Roy should be able to handle the mob here, right?"

"Yeah, but- " Troia broke off as she saw Nightwing fire another line that lifted him up out of the fight. "But Terry and Robert might be here," she finished in a low voice.

It took less than ten minutes for Nightwing to reach the cemetery. That included a time out from his run to rescue a family that was under attack by a small group of zombies. It wasn't a continuous line of the undead from town to cemetery; rather, it looked like they were being sent in groups of a hundred or so at a time. "If it really is someone raising the dead in the cemetery, they must only be able to raise them in a limited area at once," mused Nightwing.

The cemetery itself looked more like a war zone. Whatever process was used to revive the corpses, they obviously broke their own way out of their coffins and graves, leaving shattered wood, torn metal and piles of earth all over the grounds. In a far section, he saw a glow among the trees. He headed in that direction, pulling one of his bo sticks free. Standing atop one of the mausoleums, he saw a woman dressed in flowing robes of black and violet. Her black hair was streaked with white, and her blood-red lips and dark mascara stood out clearly against chalk-white skin.

"There's something wrong, something living here," he heard her say as she lowered her arms and looked around her. "Who's there?"

Knowing better than to forsake a tactical advantage, Nightwing crouched among the tombstones, moving only when her attention seemed to be focused elsewhere. He worked his way closer as graves around him burst upward, disgorging their occupants to renewed life. Fifty feet from his opponent, he was finally noticed by the emerging zombies. A hand came down to strike him in the middle of the back, striking with the should of wet meat impacting a hard wall. He turned, holding the bo stick horizontally as he brought it sharply upward. It struck the zombie under the chin, shattering it's jaw and sending it stumbling back away from him.

"There you are," shrieked the woman above him. "Ooooh, and I got one of the cute ones, too!" She grinned and waved before turning back to the heaving grounds of the cemetery.

"And just-oof!- who are you supposed to be?" asked Nightwing, taking a punch to the head from behind as he kicked another zombie away.

"You can call me Animatrix, at least, for the few minutes you have left," she called back over her shoulder. "After my zombies kill you and I bring you back, you can call me 'Mistress.'"

Nightwing twisted an arm free from the grip of one of the undead creatures and pulled his grapple-line launcher. He spied a large tree and fired, the slender line snaking out behind the grappling head. Once he felt the device engage, he pressed the stud that retracted the line, pulling himself up out of the zombie mob. "Sounds like a name for a lady cartoonist," he said, arching his body so he swung near the mausoleum where Animatrix stood. He let go the line, grabbed a low-hanging branch, swung up and around that, and covered the last 12 feet to land just behind the costumed woman. "I have a better idea- how about I call you 'just another two-bit crook with a gimmick?'" He launched a sidekick into her back, sending her toppling into the crowd of animated corpses below.

"Are we making any progress?" asked Arsenal as he launched another series of explosive bolts from his crossbow. "I'm getting low here, going to have to switch to the knives soon."

Troia lifted a trash dumpster over her head, and heaved it down the street. This cleared a path nearly one hundred feet long, littered with twitching body parts. "I think so. But there's still dozens more to take down."

Even as she spoke, Troia's jaw dropped as a golden glow enveloped the advancing undead army. Like flies in amber, they were frozen in place as the glow coalesced into a semi-solid gelatin-like form.

"What the he- oh!" Arsenal looked up to see a figure floating in the air above them, clad in a black bodysuit with circuit-like red tracings throughout, a golden helm and cloak, and a golden amulet on his chest. "I think the cavalry just arrived."

"Is that Doctor Fate?" asked Troia. "It kind of looks like his helmet, but- "

"I am the current incarnation of Fate," replied the helmeted sorcerer, his voice a rough monotone. "I sensed the use of strong, uncontrolled magic in the area."

"Yeah," said Arsenal as he gathered up some of his previously-used bolts. "I'd say that's as good a description as any."

Back in the cemetery, Animatrix stood amidst her minions, a broad smile on her face. "Did you think I had so little control that they would turn on me when I fell amidst my creations?" At a slight gesture, several of the zombies started climbing the sides of the mausoleum where Nightwing stood. Rather than actually climbing, the first ones to the building grasped the sides and let the ones behind them climb upon them, swiftly building up ramps or steps of quivering, undead flesh for others to walk up.

"Yeah, but they still move about as fast as the Penguin after a big meal." Nightwing took a couple of quick steps toward the edge of the mausoleum then jumped out over the crowd, aiming for Animatrix. She stepped back quickly, and Nightwing found himself surrounded by zombies as he landed and reached for the bo-sticks their sheaths on his thighs. "I also know something you don't know."

Animatrix paused, cocking her head slightly to one side. "Oh, what's that?"

"That my bo-sticks can be electrified!" said Nightwing as he pressed a stud on each of the weapons. Each time they connected with one of the raised corpses, there was a loud crack and a flash of static electricity. With each jolt, he saw Animatrix quiver, and he smiled. "Feedback, eh? I wasn't expecting that, but I'll take it." He jammed the end of one bo stick into the chest of one of the zombies and let the electrode in the end keep conducting power from the miniature power pack in the shaft. "Won't last long, but let's see if it lasts long enough."

The body of a elderly man shook and tried to back away, but Nightwing pressed forward, as the remains of the corpse's clothing smoked and burst into flame. Watching his main opponent, he saw her drop to her knees, at which point he turned off the power and jumped toward her. Slipping behind her, he placed one of the sticks across her throat. "Now, call them back or whatever you have to do to stop this madness!"

"Silly boy!" Animatrix jerked her head back into Nightwing's face, striking his nose with an audible crunch. His grip loosened briefly and she slipped out. As she stepped away, one leg came up and a sharply-spiked heel struck him in the thigh.

Damn me for a fool, thought Nightwing. Just because she's got some sort of magic, you figured she wouldn't be a physical fighter! He slipped a line with a batarang attached from his belt and flipped the weighted end toward her as she retreated. It wrapped around one leg, and he yanked back hard, knocking her to the ground. "I'll say it again. Shut them down, or I'll shut you down!" he shouted as he wrapped several loops around her and bound her arms to her sides.

"It is done, Nightwing!" called a rasping voice from above him. Keeping a firm grip on the rope, he looked up to see Doctor Fate dropping from the sky. All around him, the zombies were falling to the ground with all signs of life gone from their bodies. Troia and Arsenal stood on a platform of glowing energy behind him. "Such abominations shall not be allowed to tread the earth if I have anything to say about it."

"Um, yeah, right," said Nightwing as he brought a smashing backfist down on Animatrix's head to knock her out. As he started to bind her wrists up, her body started to crumble. "What the devil?"

"You may have the right of it," replied Fate, settling to the ground next to him. "It appears that your enemy is but a shell, sent forth by another. There was a but more life to her than the others, but only enough to enable her to channel the magicks fed to her by her master."

"And who would that be?" asked Troia.

"That information is hidden even from my divinings, child of the Titans."

"Great. Just great." Arsenal looked around the cemetery, at the overturned graves and shattered monuments. "And to top it off, we've got this mess to clean up."

"I may be of some assistance there." Dr. Fate raised his hands, speaking words that were incomprehensible to anybody else, and a swarm of ethereal figures descended from the sky. With blinding speed, they gathered up the dead, brought back the ones from the neighboring town, and restored them to their proper places while the Titans looked on.

"You know, if we were to put the old team back together, this guy could come in handy," said Arsenal.

"I don't know, Roy. Raven's covered the mystical end of things for us pretty well." Troia looked around. "Though I think she'd be pretty hard pressed to pull something like this off."

"It is done," declared the helmed mage. "And I will be glad to join with you when and if you wish to have me. I believe my presence still makes some of the Justice Society members uncomfortable. But for now, I must take my leave." And before anyone could respond, he rose into the air, turned once, and was gone.

"You sure about that idea, Roy?" asked Nightwing. Arsenal started chuckling, until they noticed Troia walking toward a section of the cemetery overlooking the Sound. "Hey, Donna! Wait up!"

"He messed up, Dick. Their marker is gone!" Troia broke into a run, coming to a halt near a pair of small tombstones. "There was a statue here, an angel, and- no! These aren't even their graves now!"

"Whose graves, Donna?" Nightwing laid a hand on her shoulder.

"Terry and Robert! This is where they were buried!" Donna laid her face in her hands, tears streaming down her face. "Where are they?"

"Buried?" asked Dick. "What are you talking about?"

"My son! My husband! Don't you remember? That's why I asked you to come out here tonight. I haven't been here since all the mess with Dark Angel started and I, I,- "

"Donna, Terry and Robert didn't die. Terry just called me a few weeks ago, after he saw us on the news reports during the invasion." Dick lifted her chin and looked into her eyes. "Remember, Donna. Dark Angel came up with all kinds of lies about you and your background, in addition to making you live through all kinds of tragedies. None of them were real. None of them. Including the death of your family."

"Seriously, we didn't even realize you thought they were gone," added Roy. "You and Terry had separated for a while, and we figured you were biding your time after your return. That's what Dick and I thought you called us out here for tonight."

"Really? You mean-?"

"Your family is at your old home, a couple miles from here. And they'd probably be glad to see you again."

END