Gunshots pierce through the air, bodies crumbling to the ground like like rag dolls, only to slowly drag themselves back up again. Claudia’s breath hitches when she feels the freezing surface of the wall hit her spine, gun growing limp in her hand. Her chest heaves like it holds a thousand bricks, heavy as a furnace burning through her throat. The undead are inching towards her, moaning and slack as they snap at her arms in hunger.
"Give it up, Miss. Sparta."
Claudia’s glare shoots through the crowd, and she can see the striped fedora of the man pushing his way through the limp crowd, stepping over bodies like they’re tree roots. A curve in his grin, a chilling coolness in his dark eyes. DC Hiatus has arrived, the pin-striped suited man with a clutch on all of the undead’s controls.
"DC," Claudia growls, and holds up her gun, only to draw it back from the teeth snapping at her. Hiatus grins.
"It’s okay, Miss. Sparta," Hiatus almost laughs, "you’ll be through soon enough." He raises his hands in a snapping position, but as soon as he’s about to send the sound, there’s a crash, and in a flash of white, barrels in the man of the hour.
"Think again, DC!"
The undead screech at the shots fired, and Claudia nearly screams as the man in the tweed suit literally rolls in front of her. She almost shoots him before she sees his face.
"George!" Claudia can barely believe it, her heart burst with relief. DeValier flashes the bartender a grin, and reaches for his belt. Hiatus’ grin grows weary and everyone’s eyes widen at the weapon of choice.
"I don’t know about you, DC," DeValier says, and cocks the deadly silverette, Maple, “but I’m alive and well.” Then, he pulls the trigger.
There’s a loud BANG and a flash of gold, bursting like an explosion of the sun. Suddenly, Claudia can feel an overflowing, unnatural swell of happiness in her chest at the sight. A cry is heard from all around, that Hitaus’ screech of pain is merely drowned out by the sound. The undead fall over, spasming for a minute before going limp, the snores of peaceful sleeping filling the room.
DeValier turns around, placing the gun back in it’s holster to cool. Claudia has a hand on her chest, still trying to breathe from the affects of Maple. DeValier shrugs.
"Kay came through," he says proudly. "Small Maple, but none the less excellent." On the wall, Claudia grins.
"Good job, George."