Thriller Characters: Iron Man, Quicksilver?, open to oh god save me Setting: Good Morning, New Orleans! Content: Lions and tigers and---! No, just more zombies. Oh shit, and a bear! Summary: A little wake-up broadcast to get you on the road for your 9-to-5!
Plan B took a little convincing after the fast and furious failure of Plan A, but putting each Avenger in charge of a smaller squad to make sure no one else shot themselves in the foot was working out so far. It had only been half an hour since it went into effect, but Tony was feeling optimistic. Maybe it was just because he'd manage to secure a soldier on his squad that didn't mind taking her top off to boost morale, but no one was dead or undead yet, either, so it must be a reasonably effective strategy.
The first task of the day for Team Stark involved a parking lot and a poll for favourite zombie-themed track. They were starting out easy. While Iron Man cleared a 30 yard diameter for himself, shoving and blasting cars and abandoned shopping carts, his team retreated to huddle in a truck 400 yards off and wait. With the last shiver of a shopping cart dying in the air, Iron Man glanced back to the truck and gave them just a nod before turning up his noise dampeners in the suit and turning way up his projection outside.
Was there really any choice besides Thriller?
37 seconds in, the first Infected to take the bait came barreling across the parking lot, straight for Iron Man waiting calmly for him to get just close enough, then blast his whole head off with a charged repulsor beam. By then, there were a lot more. Not that it was anything Iron Man couldn't handle. They didn't seem too charmed by Michael Jackson or Iron Man's dance moves, but they could eat lead. By the time the track was over, Tony had to admit he was a little out of breath and the wasteland of battered cars and rotting, dismembered bodies radiating away from him was more than a little gruesome. Maybe it was time for a break, before he vomited into his helmet. His playlist shuffled to something a little more his taste, and standing up to his ankles in long-stale blood he radioed back to his team to get some more distance from the parking lot graveyard while he switched the feed back into his helmet and adjusted his noise levels.
The alarm shunted off to the edge of his vision shouldn't have been warning incoming anymore, maybe it was still trying to catch up with the plethora of warnings it was backed up on, but that didn't explain the roar from behind him when Tony turned down his noise filters. Something slammed into his back, knocking him face first into the spilled guts of a hundred Thriller enthusiasts. When he scrambled and his fingers dug into rubbery skin, he could feel it slide away from muscle and muscle tear away from bone, and for one very clear moment he could imagine the stench of their rot and almost was sick in his helmet. In the moment of hesitation, he was shoved down again, metal grinding into meat squelching under their weight, and next to his ear the squeal of grinding metal as nails or teeth dragged across his helmet. That was more than enough for Tony. He dug his toes into the gore beneath him and made to shoot away at full speed.
Not fast enough, dragging out from under the beast; it caught him by the leg, making him slam to a stop, half twisted around to try to get a blood-spattered view of his assailant.
It was the biggest bear he had ever seen.
Not that Tony had much first-hand experience with bears, but he was fairly certain they didn't get that big. Matted with blood, standing up on its hind legs in a distinctly human way, looking at him in the same mindless, feral, dead way the Infected did.
Was he facing a fucking zombie bear? All of the data they had, all of the tests they ran, Tony was fairly certain this wasn't supposed to transfer to animals. Sure, it was mutating, but that was a huge leap to make. Did they even have bears around New Orleans?
Never mind that, this fucking zombie bear was snapping it's drooling, bleeding jaws at him, and holding him fast despite the power of his jet boots. Iron Man slammed a heel where it would catch the fastest; against the beast's eye socket, feeling the squish and distinct pop under it. The blood didn't gush, but oozed slow and black around his boot, making Tony shiver and swallow bile again while the fucking zombie bear roared and swung him around like a rag doll. When it jerked Iron Man back towards itself, Iron Man found his footing again and made better use of the jet boots. With one full powered blast, the creature was scalped-- and even angrier than before. It wrenched on his leg, twisting the metal into Tony's skin and slammed him back into the ground.