Disclaimer: I do not own the Left 4 Dead franchise, Valve does.
The Red Tide
By: Confused Confusion
-(,,,,,/-\-((o.O))-/-\,,,,,)-
Prologue: Counting the Days
Inspired Music: "Uprising" – Muse
And pretty much every piece of background music from Zombie Panic! Source by KillahMo.
Day 1
First Infected checks into Mercy Hospital's ER after losing a thumb to a band of muggers. He is unknowingly infected with the viral pathogen via his severed appendage. An attending ER nurse is infected through blood borne pathogenesis, patient is kept overnight. The nurse ends her shift and heads home without knowledge of infection.
David bit back a cry of pain as he held his wounded hand in a death grip. The pair of nurses on either side of the bed struggled to keep the flailing man on his back. A scream erupted from the patient's throat, the resulting movements causing the rag to slip off of his hand. A stream of blood pumped from the severed opening that used to be his thumb. The crimson substance splattered against the green scrubs of the nurse on his left, and unbeknownst to any of the room's occupants, a drop splashed against her upper arm. The severed appendage sat in a sterile container on the counter a few feet away.
"Mr. Johnson, you need to relax so your heart rate will go down! If you keep this up, then you'll die of blood loss!" The blood-covered nurse shouted.
Her words seemed to reach David to some extent, and the man eased his struggling as the doctor briskly entered the room. "How is he?"
The other nurse glanced up, "He's not loosing as much blood as when he first got here, and there's still a chance we can reattach the thumb."
The man in the white coat nodded, "Very well; Linda, go notify surgery and tell them to be prepped in about twenty minutes."
The blood-free nurse nodded and quickly left the room.
"David?" the doctor asked while stepping up beside the bed. "We're going to give you a sedative so we can give you back your thumb before it's too late."
The patient weakly nodded.
"Alright, let's get this over with so you can go clean yourself up, eh Becky?"
The nurse chuckled, "Right."
Day 2
Patient is discharged from the ER and sent back to his apartment.
There is an outbreak of the infection in the apartment complex late at night.
David stumbled up the staircase leading to his apartment, pale-faced and covered in sweat. Dark lines peaked out from underneath his bandaged hand, etching across his veins. Leaning heavily against the wall, his good hand rifled through his pockets for his keys. Ugh, he felt like he was going to puke any second. He just needed to get inside, take some of the meds the doctor gave him, and lie down…then he'd be just fine.
"Mr. Johnson? Deary, you don't look too well – my goodness, what happened to your hand!" an elderly woman cried as she shuffled around the injured man in worry.
David gave a weak wave, "I'm fine Marg-." Before he could finish, blood spewed from his mouth, spattering against the woman's face.
The old woman let out a disgusted scream before blindly retreating to her apartment. David, ignoring the woman, threw himself into his own apartment, stumbling to his bathroom to empty out the remainder of his stomach's contents.
Day 3
An infectious outbreak is reported in the attending nurse's residential area.
CEDA is informed of the events.
3% of Fairfield is infected.
A portly man, clad in a house robe and slippers, sprinted across his front lawn in absolute terror. Becky, or least what was formerly Becky, darted after him, gaining rapidly on the fleeing man. Blood oozed from between reddened teeth as milky eyes glared furiously at the retreating back before them. With a primal screech, Becky lunged at the frightened man, tackling him to the ground. Punches, scratches, and bites rained down on the man's defenseless backside as he struggled in vain to free himself.
A gasp from their left brought the Infected's attention away from its victim. A woman stood at her door a few feet away, newspaper in one hand and a coffee mug in the other. A look of horrified shock was plastered on her face. The Infected hissed and bounded toward the idle woman, leaving the injured man to writhe in pain on the ground. The coffee mug shattered against the porch, followed shortly by a scream of horror as the former human tackled the woman through the doorway.
As her cries reverberated through the open door, the large man struggled to his feet and limped away, oblivious to the milky hue that was forming over his eyes.
Day 4
Blockades are established by local police on CEDA's urging.
A CEDA team arrives in the city.
10% of Fairfield is infected.
"Details?" a somber-looking man demanded as we walked up to the Commissioner.
The older man heaved a sigh before running a hand through his graying hair, "We've had reports coming in left and right of people attack other people. Not with guns or weapons, just physically running up and mauling random people. The actions are spreading rapidly and we've counted at least fifty deaths from the matter."
"Anything else?"
"The autopsies have yielded unusual results in regards to blood sampling, that's why we've called you CEDA guys in to take a look."
The CEDA representative nodded, "Very well, take us to the bodies and we'll see what we can find."
Day 5
CEDA is inconclusive in their results of the infection.
The constructed blockades are pushed back by the Infected crowds.
The National Guard is called in to help with the growing situation.
15% of Fairfield is infected.
"Have you identified what it is?" a smartly dressed reporter questioned while holding up the tape recorder in her hand.
The man behind the podium stared out into the members of the press conference with tired eyes. Adjusting his glasses, the CEDA representative leaned toward the various microphones in front of him. "It is a virus, plain and simple."
Annoyed murmurs spread across the room until another reporter stood from his seat, not even bothering to wait for his cue. "That's all you know? Is that it's a virus?"
The sound of a throat clearing filled the speakers before the man in question chose to elaborate. "We've dubbed it the 'Green Flu,' and despite rumors, this is nothing like the rabies virus."
"Is there a cure?" A different reporter this time, barely even letting the man finish before firing off her question.
Another sigh, "At this time, CEDA has been unable to conclude a cure for this case."
"Is it airborne?"
"What about immunity?"
"How does it spread?"
A stern-looking man in fatigues stepped up the podium and glared at the room's occupants. "One question at a time, please; I will not say this again."
The scientist offered the soldier a nod of thanks before taking his former place. "Thus far, we cannot report of any cases of the virus being transmitted through the air. The Green Flu is transferred through direct contact with bodily fluids. Therefore, saliva, blood, pus, and bile pose the greatest risks of contamination."
The man brought a shaking hand to his glasses before glancing at the soldier, who shot him a look of warning before nodding his head sharply. "As for immunity…we have received word of cases; however, we were unable to retrieve said individuals for examination. Regardless, immunity is very probable."
The tension in the room seemed to subside briefly, until a weasel-looking individual shot out his seat, glaring up at the podium. "Is it true that the military has plans of quarantining the entire city of Fairfield, regardless that most of its populous still remains within the city limits, unharmed?"
CEDA's representative felt his mouth go dry at the accusation. The stunned man was suddenly shoved out of the way, the soldier from before taking his place. "Arrest that man!"
The security lining the room promptly tackled the man, handcuffing him amidst his shouts of protest. The soldier gave the weasel-faced reporter a cold, calculating look before turning to his captor. "Take him into holding, we'll find out who his sources are. This press conference is adjourned!"
The media roared in outrage, camera flashes filling the room as the stage's pair shuffled to the back room. The scientist pulled the frames from his face, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"What in God's name have I done?"
"You did exactly what you were told to do." The soldier answered while turning to face him.
A pleading look answered him, "But to lie about the immunity? Do you realize how many people I just killed with that statement?"
The soldier glowered down at the smaller man. "Far less than if you had told the truth, doc."
Day 6
Quarantine is established around the Industrial Quarter of Fairfield.
CEDA issues citywide precautionary instructions to all uninfected inhabitants.
23% of Fairfield is infected.
"What is this crap?" a large, gruff-looking biker muttered as he ripped a colorful poster from the wall of the bar. "'Wash your hands?' 'Maintain a healthy state of mind?' The hell is this crap?"
"Francis! What the hell are you doing over there?" another biker called from the booth.
Francis trudged over to the table, throwing the papers down onto the wooden surface, "Again, what the hell is this about?"
The bearded biker lifted his sunglasses and peered at the colored posters, "Oh yeah, those things. CEDA's been throwing those around left and right, seems all those attacks and shit was caused by some kind of 'illness.'"
Francis scoffed, "Screw washing my hands, if any of those bastards come at me, I'll cure their little illness for them!" The biker emphasized his promise by punching his fist into his hand.
Francis' companion smirked, "Damn right! Now let's head out and meet up with the rest of the boys before you have to go to your hearing."
Day 7
The Industrial Quarter is now fully infected.
The President declares a State of Emergency for the city.
30% of Fairfield is infected.
Two girls sat in their dorm room, watching the television screen intently. One had dark brown hair that was tied into a ponytail and blue eyes. The other had green eyes and sandy blonde hair.
"What do you think the mayor's going to say, Zo?" the blonde woman asked without looking over.
Zoey shrugged in turn, "Probably the same crap they always say."
The two quieted down as a suit-clad man stepped up to the assortment of microphones attached to the podium. Beneath him sat a large group of reporters, all in which were on the edge of their seats.
"Good evening, as you all know, there have been recent events in the city that are threatening our very existence. Such events are difficult to ignore, given the quarantine that was erected around the Industrial Quarter hours ago. Brutal attacks and murders have been reported all across the city, as have reports of a strange sickness linked to these attacks. The CEDA group that has been called in to investigate this phenomenon has been inconclusive thus far. Therefore, the President has declared a State of Emergency for the city of Fairfield."
The reporters below immediately began to buzz and hammer the mayor with a roar of questions
The politician ignored them, "The National Guard has been called into to assist in maintaining the safety of our citizens, and in the event that the quarantine fails, will organize a citywide evacuation. That is all I have to say, thank you for your understanding in these hard times."
The press room exploded at the news, and various reporters shot out of their seats in order to get a comment from the mayor.
"Zoey?"
"Yeah?"
"…What's going to happen?"
"I don't know, Kim….I really don't know."
"…Are you still heading home for break?"
Zoey nodded while still staring at the screen. "Yeah…can't wait to hear what my mom has to say about my grades."
Kim offered a small smile at the brunette's sarcastic words. "Just be careful, okay?"
"…You too."
Day 8
The quarantine fails in the Industrial Quarter.
National Guard begins to withdraw due to high casualties.
CEDA issues nationwide precautions regarding the plague that they have dubbed the "Green Flu."
42% of Fairfield is infected.
"Sir, you need to evacuate the premises, the quarantine has been breached!" a rather frantic soldier ordered as he stood on the doorway of an apartment.
"And I told you that I'll leave when I'm good and ready," the elderly man on the other side of the doorframe answered slowly, his eyes desperately trying to focus.
The soldier let out an exasperated sigh, "You don't understand, this area is now at a high risk for infection!"
The bearded man rolled his eyes, "Son, I'm not moving an inch from this place 'til I want to. In the mean time, I suggest you worry about yourself."
The soldier was already moving back toward the stairwell, "Fine, but don't say I didn't warn you!"
Closing the door, the aging man made his way over to a chest behind a nearby couch, a slight limp in his step. The effects of the anesthesia were starting to wear off, but the slight rubbery feelings in his limbs still remained. Rummaging through its contents, he removed only four items. One was a fairly modern 9mm pistol, having seen very few uses in its lifetime from a glance. The second was a gun holster for said firearm, lying on top of a long-sleeved green jacket. Throwing on the jacket and holster, the senior citizen rolled up the sleeves and gazed at the fourth item in his hand.
It was a green beret with a small badge containing a sword and two crossed arrows. Graying blue eyes glazed over momentary before their owner shook his head. Resting the beret on his balding scalp, the former soldier moved toward the door, absentmindedly snatching up a pack of cigarettes from the table.
"Like hell I'll die in a dump like this…" Bill muttered as he pulled the handgun from its holster.
Day 9
Remaining military and law-keeping forces erect a border separating the infection from the citizens.
Citywide evacuation procedures go into effect.
50% of Fairfield is infected.
"Yes! Finally got in!" a dark-skinned man whispered in victory while standing near the front of a line that was slowly filing into a large bus. On either side of the line stood two armed and somber-looking soldiers, both refusing to make eye contact with any of the line's occupants.
Louis let relief wash over him as he loosened his tie; he was going to make it out of here, finally! Not a moment too soon either, this looked to be the last busload for quite some time. The moment they had started broadcasting the locations for the citywide evacuations, the businessman…ex-businessman, had said 'to hell with this job and the dead body in the bathroom' and booked it straight to the nearest checkpoint.
The bus was starting to look full; once the seats had run out, they began filing people into the aisle like a subway car. Louis unconsciously crossed his fingers as the back of the crowd inside the bus slowly inched its way closer to the driver's seat. The former junior systems analyst now stood at the front of the line, eyeing the bus interior with worry.
The driver glanced over his shoulder before turning to Louis, "Alright, room for one more."
Louis muttered a 'Thank God' before moving up the steel steps, turning around as he made it as far in as he could. Outside, now at the front of the line, stood a mother and her son, and Louis felt his smile drop. A devastated look was etched onto the woman's face, while the child, no more than six years old, was tugging on her sleeve, asking when the next bus was going to be. The mother bent down, reassuring her son that it wouldn't be long.
The folding door hissed as it began to close, obstructing Louis' few of the pair. On an impulse, his hand shot forward, stopping the door before it could shut all the way. Glancing back to the driver, he gave a pleading look before the door folded up once again.
Louis stepped onto the asphalt and gazed at the duo, "Come on, hurry up and get on. I don't think he'll sit around forever."
The mother looked flabbergasted, "But…what about you?"
The bald man allowed a grin to reach his lips, "I'll catch the next one, go ahead."
The mother offered him a tearful smile as she herded her son onto the bus, "Thank you…thank you so much. I don't think I can ever repay you."
"Just stay safe and we'll call it even."
The doors snapped shut, and Louis offered the pair a wave of goodbye as the vehicle drove off into the distance.
"…I am such a doormat."
Day 10
The infection slips outside of Fairfield.
National Guard's protective border fails.
Evacuation procedures are abandoned in the panic.
57% of Fairfield is infected.
A gloved fist smashed into the gnarled face of a female Infected, forcing the former human to stumble backwards. The body tripped over the street curb, causing the zombie to collapse on a bench in a twitching heap. The city block was littered with the corpses of the fallen, their blood caked onto the pavement. Derelict cars sat forlornly around them, having long since been abandoned by their owners. Small plumes of smoke rose from nearby buildings, towering toward the heavens and only succeeding in adding to the dire feeling that had swept across Fairfield in the past week.
Francis sneered as the Infected slowly rose to its feet, the biker hastily digging through his pockets in search of any remaining shells for the worn shotgun in his hand. Two rows of teeth gnashed together in irritation as muttered rambles left his lips.
"Damn bitch just won't stay down and let me reload my damn gun so I can fucking shoot her!" Francis cursed, roaring the last part aloud.
A scream left the Infected lips before it once again charged toward the large man, eyes ablaze with fury.
"For the love of…God!" The biker shouted, accentuating the end of his rant by slamming the butt of the firearm into the former human's forehead. The zombie fell back again in a daze.
Francis immediately reverted back into a reserved agitation, muttering to himself as he patted down his leather vest.
"Could've sworn I had a few more rounds left…"
The sound of rapidly approaching footsteps had the biker spinning around on instinct, bringing the empty shotgun up defensively just as another Infected tackled him to the ground. Brown eyes widened momentarily as they took in the appearance of their attacker. Broken sunglasses, a scruffy beard matted with blood, and an all-too-familiar tattoo running up the zombie's arm.
Francis growled, "Damnit, Dennis…Don't think I won't shoot your ass! Vampire or not!"
The former Dennis merely snarled in response and pushed down harder against the shotgun. Francis' brow knitted together in concentration as he struggled to keep his former friend at bay. Wait a second – where the hell was the other bitch? Shouldn't she be trying to bash his head in or something right about now?
The thought had barely finished running through the biker mind before half of Dennis' face was blown clean off, showering Francis in a mist of blood. The tattooed man grimaced in disgust before shoving the cadaver off of him. Craning his head around, Francis spotted an elderly man reloading a pistol, a few feet away lay the unmoving body of the female Infected.
"Who the hell are you?"
The aged man raised an eyebrow at the rather rude demand. As the biker rose to his feet, the older man snorted. "You're welcome."
Francis scoffed, but offered the other man a stiff nod. "Francis."
The elderly man shot the biker a sideways glance that was filled with a drop of suspicion. "…Bill."
Day 11
National Guard establishes one final evacuation point on the roof of Mercy Hospital, the tallest building in Fairfield.
Riverside announces its fortification plans.
Infection radius now spans through central Pennsylvania.
Joint forces of military and CEDA are stationed in Newburg, just outside the infected zone.
70% of Fairfield is infected.
The endless droning of the warning sirens was muffled – but still apparent – through the thin plaster walls of the dorm room. The incessant sound had been blaring for roughly three days now, but it was hard to tell the time inside a small, dark bathroom. Zoey had booked it straight to her dorm, knowing full well that – amid sobs and screams – there was nothing she could do for her parents. She had to get back; she had to find Kim…to warn her. It was shortly after she had returned that her roommate had come bursting through their door in hysteria, covered in blood, and vomiting an odd pink substance. Zoey had been so shocked at her friend's sudden entrance that she hadn't noticed the body sprawled across the hallway floor or the fresh blood splatters that were oozing down the once light blue walls. Kim's milky eyes had immediately set their sights on Zoey, set ablaze with a fury that was simply…inhuman.
Kim had attacked Zoey before the brunette had a chance to recover from her initial shock, and various cuts and scratches were the results. However, some struggling and a bloody baseball bat later, and Kim's lifeless corpse was lying on the carpeted floor, her skull cracked open. Zoey had instantly retreated to the bathroom, locking the door as soon as it was shut. The next handful of hours was filled with the screams of her fellow classmates – terrified, bloodcurdling shrieks of pain and death. Despite the bone-chilling racket emitting outside, Zoey would have preferred it over the ungodly silence that had been gnawing at her sanity over the last couple of days. At least with the screaming, it meant that some one out there was still alive…for the time being anyway. Now, with the stench of blood and death filling the air, and the only distinguishable sound being the blasted sirens…Zoey felt the trepidation begin to consume her.
Gunfire from inside the building broke Zoey from the folds of her ever approaching mental collapse. The brunette cautiously hauled herself out of the bathtub and toward the door. Meekly pressing her ear to the wooden barrier, the young woman flinched as another blast rang out – this time much closer. The fire died down, replaced by faint footsteps and a rather heated argument.
"The 'radio' we were looking for was fucking broke as shit. Why the hell are we still here?" Demanded a rough voice from out in the hallway.
A loud sigh emitted from the neighboring room, an older voice snapping after it. "Because we're looking for supplies and any other survivors."
"Fat chance of that." The other voice had muttered in response.
Through the door, Zoey could hear the two strangers move down the hall closer to her room. The brunette swallowed hard. Should she go out there? They were, after all, not zombies, and that was certainly a plus. However, what if they were thugs? Just because they were looking for survivors didn't mean they wanted to help them. Hell, what if they were just out to kill people? They could just as well murder her on the spot…or worse.
Zoey felt a shiver of dread run up her spine at the horrid thought that crossed her mind. She couldn't just stay in her bathroom forever - that much she knew. She had run out of the snacks Kim and her had kept in the mini fridge yesterday. Before long, she'd end up dying of starvation. It seemed as if her only option was the two unknowns creeping through her dorm.
"Did you hear that?"
The young woman sucked in a breath and swung the bathroom door open just as a shotgun blast rang out from just outside her room. Zoey froze mid-movement as a large man in a leather vest fell backwards into the adjacent room, holding back a bloodied zombie. The former human screamed and clawed at the biker, who merely roared back in response while planting a booted foot on the Infected's chest.
"Hold still, damnit!" the older voice barked, forcing Zoey to turn her attention away from the struggling pair.
"Keep your bra on, Bill! I got this!" the biker shouted. With a grunt, the large man pushed the Infected away with his outstretched foot. The former human staggered back through the open door, almost colliding with the elderly man.
"Now!"
Three gunshots later and the older man entered the room again as the biker rose to his feet. Zoey, catching a full glimpse of the two, decided that they didn't look like the friendliest bunch. The brunette slowly stepped back into the bathroom, praying that neither of them had noticed her.
Too late.
The small movement had caught both of their eyes, and the duo's attention instantly snapped to her. Zoey stood frozen in fear, looking like a dear in headlights as the newcomers stared at her.
The biker stepped forward. "Well what do we have here?"
Zoey shrunk back as the tattooed man towered over her, eyeing her from head to toe with an indescribable look.
"Lay off, Francis. You're scaring her." Bill muttered while pushing past the larger man, who merely sneered in response.
The green-clad man kneeled so that he was at eye-level with Zoey. Bill's hardened eyes softened as he took in her appearance. "We're not going to hurt you."
Despite the obvious statement, Zoey felt her muscles relax at the senior's tone of voice.
"My name's Bill, the big lug behind me is Francis. Don't worry 'bout him though, his bark's bigger than his bite."
A scoff emitted from behind the veteran.
Bill ignored the biker, "What's your name?"
The young woman cleared her throat, "Zoey."
Francis poked his head over Bill's shoulder, "Well Zoey, we're trying to get the hell out of here. Wanna tag along?"
Day 12
Communication outside of Fairfield is severed.
CEDA: Gone
Military: Last remnants reside in Mercy Hospital.
Infection slips past Newburg city limits.
The United States is in a state of unrest.
84% of Fairfield is infected.
2% of Newburg is infected.
Louis huddled further beneath the stairwell, fearful eyes staring through the small gaps between the steps. In the doorway before him was the carcass of a police officer. The corpse had been ripped in two at the waist, a string of intestine the only thing connecting the two halves amongst the bloody mess. From his vantage the businessman could see the cadaver's face, an expression of pure agony forever frozen on its features. Louis pressed himself even further into the corner, futilely trying to block the horrible scene from his view.
He should have just stayed on the bus and gotten the hell out of here, but no, he just had to be nice and give away what may have very well been his only chance of getting out of the city alive. Louis hated being the 'nice guy,' the title that everyone seemed to think they could use to walk all over him. Did he mind? Hell yes he minded! Karma had been his drive for the majority of his life. He figured that if he did nothing but nice things for others, one day people would do the same for him.
Fat chance of that happening now.
The emergency sirens had ceased their call roughly an hour or so ago. Louis wanted to believe that the droning had merely run its course and the system had deactivated on its own. However, he had a sneaking suspicion that it was because their operators were…well…
Brown eyes risked a glance at the corpse in the doorway, and their owner shuddered at the thought.
A sharp clank from above brought Louis quickly back to reality, his gaze drifting upward fearfully. The sounds grew in number and repetition: footsteps. Someone was moving down the stairwell, but who?
…Or rather, what?
The businessman held his breath, not even daring to move as the intruders descended down the final set of stairs. There were three in all…at least from what he could see. None of their faces were in view, still obscured by the upper steps. The one in the lead was wearing some old-fashioned fatigues, a pistol clutched tightly in a wrinkled hand. The other two had hung back on the stairwell, their legs and feet the only indicators visible to Louis. On the left was a pair of boots, large and masculine…definitely a man. To the right was a pair of Converse, and judging from the stance, belonged to a woman.
"I don't think he's getting up…"
The gruff voice vibrated through the air, carrying a hint of brashness and pitilessness, although the volume had been reduced to something barely above a whisper.
"Gee…ya think?"
A light tone responded with sarcasm…certainly a woman's voice. The boots shifted slightly as their owner shot the woman a look of annoyance. With the action, the barrel of a shotgun fell into Louis' view. The dark-skinned man swallowed the lump in his throat, a nervous sweat dotting his brow. He had been debating on whether or not he should make himself known…
…Now he was having his doubts.
What if they just decided to kill him on the spot? They certainly had the tools for it…but what if they were just survivors trying to escape? Oh god, what if they saw his bite? He'd seen enough zombie films to know what a bite meant.
"Shush…you hear that?"
Louis shot out from the stairwell, flailing his arm above his head frantically – not the best decision in hindsight – while shouting. "Please, you gotta help…"
The back of his mind was vaguely aware that his cries were echoing up the entire stairwell before a hand clamped tightly over his mouth, effectively silencing him. Louis felt his back hit the wall, the barrel of a pistol pushing against the bottom of his chin. A small, muffled whimper escaped his throat as two weathered blue eyes burned holes through his.
"Shut up." Bill ordered swiftly, silencing the businessman with a mere glare. "Now, are you going to scream?"
Louis shook his head quickly.
"Are you lying to me?"
Another shake of his head.
"Good…now if you want to stay alive, I suggest you come with us. Stay low, stay quiet, and if I event think that you're about to freak out on us, I'm going to let Francis have at you."
The large biker grinned menacingly from behind the veteran. "Don't worry, I'll be gentle."
Stricken by fear, Louis could only nod dumbly as the two men trudged past him. Zoey picked up the rear, giving the businessman a sympathetic look.
"Don't worry, they grow on you."
The businessman followed quickly like a whipped dog, completely unsure of what had just transpired. Before he knew it, Louis found himself outside of the building next to a desolate blockade. Derelict newspapers proclaiming the doomsday lay scattered throughout the street, a corpse dotting the pavement every now and then. Something wet suddenly hit Louis in the face, causing the businessman to blink in confusion. Glancing up, he narrowly avoided being hit in the eye by another drop.
It had begun to rain…
Day 13
Riverside completes its fortifications, refuses entry to outsiders.
The Green Flu undergoes mutation, producing a new level of infection.
Mercy Hospital begins to fall to the infection.
91% of Fairfield is infected.
5% of Newburg is infected.
"Go! Go! Go!" A soldier roared as the panicked hospital staff fled past him. The crowd of terror-stricken people funneled into the stairwell, desperate to reach the fourth floor. That was where the military was establishing their new line of defense; they'd be safe there…
…Right?
The soldier cursed as he spotted an Infected bound around the corner down the hall, garbed in only a bloodied hospital gown.
A patient…a recent infected human…
The thunderous repetitions from his assault rifle echoed down the narrow hallway. Ribbons of crimson spurted from the Infected's chest, bloodstained hands clawing at the wounds in vain. The former human collapsed in a heap, unmoving, leaving the soldier to wipe the nervous sweat from his face. He remained frozen for a moment, hitched breathes and the muffled anxious voices from above the only sounds in the now desolate hall.
It was a bloodbath…plain and simple.
Lifeless corpses littered the floor, fresh blood still oozing onto the tiles. Overturned gurneys lay scattered about, some still supporting the recently deceased…abandoned by their caretakers in a moment of fear. Nearer to him were the cadavers of fallen soldiers, their firearms clutched in the vices of a death-grip.
A soft groaning suddenly filled the area, emitting from one of the derelict examination rooms. Raising his firearm, the soldier cautiously moved forward while avoiding the debris whenever he could. The groans became more persistent, almost to the point where they sounded painful. Edging into the room, the soldier couldn't quite prepare himself for what he saw.
Strewn across the exam table was a humanoid figure…or at least, it was once humanoid. Its midsection was bloated to a ridiculous proportion with large, puss-filled boils dotting the exposed areas of flesh. The soldier had never seen anything like it in his entire life…even with all of the recent events with Green. The creature tossed and turned on the table, seemingly lost in a cloud of pain.
The soldier cleared his throat. "Sir, can you hear me?"
The bloated human stiffened momentarily, the action causing an unsettling feeling to build in the soldier's stomach. Slowly, the prone human's head turned around, milky-red eyes staring a hole through him.
Milky-red eyes…oh shit!
Before the soldier could lift his rifle in time, the bloated creature vomited a green bile-like substance all over him. The stench was horrendous, and it took all of his willpower not to puke on the spot. He stumbled out of the room in a blind stupor, futilely attempting to wipe the substance from his eyes. Even through his gagging and dry-heaving, the soldier could distinguish the sounds out rapidly approaching footsteps.
A wave of Infected surged around the corner at the far end of the hallway…
In a desperate bid to survive, the soldier took off down the opposite end of the hall, ascending the staircase in leaps. He tore through the cafeteria in a frenzy, his heart hammering in his ears. The soldier felt himself trip when his left leg refused to move. Glancing down at the limb, he discovered a long, pink tongue-like appendage wrapped around it. The poor man didn't even have enough time follow the tendril to its source before he was yanked off his feet. He gripped and clawed at the carpeted floor in vain, trying everything he could to stop his movement.
Fear dominated his actions, and the soldier ripped his knife from its sheath on his other boot. Chopping wildly, he managed to sever the vile appendage and – without looking back – broke into full sprint toward the staircase. He barely made it a handful of steps before the sounds of shattering glass and a primal screech brought his attention skyward. A blue blur slammed into him, once again knocking the soldier off his feet.
The last thing he saw was a flurry of claws and a maniacal grin…
Day 14
Point Echo in Alleghany National Forest is established.
Riverside is breached, no escape for residents.
Military begins taking extreme measures against the infection in Newburg.
98% of Fairfield is infected.
20% of Riverside is infected.
10% of Newburg is infected.
"Let us in! Please, we're begging you, here!" A distraught man cried out while clutching at the chain link fence that stood before him. "Come on, I have a child with me!"
The soldiers beyond the barrier refused to yield, the officer at the front staring at the man with cold neutrality. "Riverside is closed, find some place else."
The civilian stared abhorred at the military presence in front of him. "For God's sake, have a heart!"
When the man attempted to push at the fence, the barrel of a rifle pressed against his forehead. "Final warning…find some place else."
Frightened, the man complied and slowly backed away until the soldier lowered his firearm. A small tug on his pant leg forced him to glance down at the little girl by his side. "Are they gonna let us in, daddy?"
Kneeling before his daughter, the man placed a hand on her shoulder. "Of course they are, sweetie…it's just that there's so many people here that it'll just take a little while…that's all."
The child sniffled. "Okay…it's just really scary here…"
The father pulled his daughter into a hug, taking the opportunity to glance around the large tunnel around them. Cars were backed up as far as his eyes could make out, a sea of people surging forward in hopes of being allowed access to the 'zombie-proof' Riverside. It was an act fueled by illogical means and fear…
…An act of desperation…
He was aware of how foolish it was to believe such a thing: that a city could actually be resistant to the infection…but he was simply out of options. His daughter needed protection, and Riverside could provide that more than he could. The child in his arms cringed and buried herself deeper into his embrace as a heated commotion began to build on the far side of the fence. The father glanced over his shoulder at the source of the ruckus: a small cluster of people shouting and pushing at the fenced barrier. The soldiers on the other end were matching the group blow for verbal blow, both sides looking to be at the snapping point.
It was when one of the soldiers lifted their firearm that he felt his eyes widen in horror.
No…they wouldn't actually do it…would they?
The deafening blast – amplified by the tunnel's shape – shocked the entire area into an eerie stillness. The mob of angry citizens stood frozen, mirroring their soldier counterparts on the other side…
…Crimson…
…A smoking barrel…
A person at the forefront of the mob collapsed backward, falling into his companions behind him…covering them in his blood. The scene before them was so shocking…so appalling…that no one noticed the tunnel's ceiling quiver in small tremors. The horrified scream that emitted from the outside of the barrier was drowned out by the loud groan from above.
The ceiling collapsed inward, bricks and fragments of cement raining down on the masses below. A large segment of the curved ceiling collapsed onto the barrier, crushing the fence as if it were nothing at all. Terrified screams echoed throughout the tunnel as citizens and soldiers alike backed away from the disaster. The father shielded his daughter against the oncoming debris, wincing as a few of the sharper pieces cut into his back. Whirling around, the pair found themselves face-to-face with a thick cloud of dust.
"What on earth could've caused the whole ceiling to collapse?" The man muttered to no one in particular.
As the smoke cleared, his eyes widened…
Humanoid silhouettes…
…Shambling humanoid silhouettes...and more were dropping from the newly formed hole above them.
A few of the figures stiffened for barely even a heartbeat, their heads snapping toward the humans on either side of the rubble. A brief shriek signaled the end…
…And then they lunged into the masses…
Screams of both terror and agony reverberated throughout the tunnel as the Infected ripped through the large cluster of people. The soldiers frantically began to open fire into the walls of bodies, hitting Infected and non-Infected alike. Instincts taking over, the father snatched up his daughter and dashed toward the nearest car, flinging the door open in a panic. Stuffing themselves into the vehicle, he slammed the door shut, peering over the dashboard at the bloodbath around him.
At least they were somewhat safe in here…
The thought had barely manifested itself within the man's mind when a large piece of cement smashed into the hood of the car. The vehicle skidded back several feet, coming to a painful stop as the pair within attempted to recover.
"What the hell was…that…?"
The father felt himself trail off, his mouth hanging open in an expression crossed between disbelief and horror.
On the other side of the ruined fence…the large pile of rubble…began to move.
A large, meaty arm – thicker than the trunk of an oak tree – shot through the pile of rock, heaving its body from the debris. The creature could barely even be considered humanoid with the state of its appearance…monster was more like it. As the chaos ensued around the leviathan, it gave an earthshaking roar and bounded forward…
…Straight toward their hiding place…
As the beast swung a heavy arm back, the father threw open the car door, shoving his daughter out of the vehicle an instant before it was sent sailing through the air. The car, like a kicked can, flipped once before crashing upside down into a cluster of derelict vehicles a few meters away.
The child slid to a stop, bruised and cut up from the harsh landing on the glass-littered asphalt. Blearily glancing around, she collapsed back in fear as the large monstrosity towered overhead, glaring at her with milky-red eyes. Frozen, the little girl could only stare up with watery eyes as her destroyer loomed over her.
She didn't want to die…she wanted her daddy…
The beast suddenly stood rigid for a moment, its muscled body twitching ever so slightly. With a grunt, the large Infected twisted around, glaring at the shaking soldier a few feet away. Hastily reloading his rifle, the officer resumed his efforts in filling the creature with lead. A few of the bullets strayed from their mark, piercing into one of the Infected's arms. Spurts of blood shot out of the wounds, flying in all directions…
Some of splashing against the child's face…most notably…
…Her eyes.
As the massive Infected lunged at the screaming soldier, the little girl wiped the blood from her face. Standing on quivering legs, she numbly walked toward the overturned car, oblivious to the gory deaths occurring all around her. Reaching the decimated vehicle, the child dropped to her knees and grasped at the lifeless, bloodstained hand jutting out from the crumpled window.
"…Papa…?"
The hand did not move in acknowledgement, causing the child to tear up.
"…Papa!"
The daughter let out a mournful sob, crying into the motionless limb in her tiny hands. Around her, the Infected took no interest in the mourning child, focusing on the few survivors that still remained.
Because to them…she wasn't human…
…She was already one of them.
Amid the bloodcurdling screams echoing from the tunnel, the weeping of the Witch rose in volume.
-(,,,,,/-\-((o.O))-/-\,,,,,)-
A/N: Want to know the sad part about this? This prologue is most likely going to be longer than any of the actual chapters…by a relatively large margin, too. For those who know me, I am whore when it comes to mood-setting…especially for an apocalyptic scenario (just look at 'No Man's Land,' a one-shot specifically created to set the tone for both games), so needless to say, I had fun writing this. This piece was originally going to be the prologue for 'Ties that Bind,' but I figured why add a prologue to a drabble project? So many things to say about this, so I'll be cheap and only list a few:
Originally had more days…but then the chapter would never end, so I stopped at fourteen to add the sense of a prologue to the first L4D.
Lying about the possibility of immunity for an unstoppable pandemic seems like the kind of douche move our government would do.
Anyone else notice how the gaps between the days keep getting longer and longer as the chapter progresses?
This story will be loosely tied to 'Ties that Bind,' if you haven't read it, no big deal…it won't be too relevant. However, if you want to check it out, you can (cue the cheesy thumbs-up).
'Red' will be a relatively small project, roughly fifteen chapters in all. It'll include both groups of survivors (minus Bill of course), two custom types of Infected (I swear on everything of value to me that they aren't half bad in terms of development…nothing that you'd see in the game, but they work in the L4D universe.), and a handful of OC side characters (I promise not to attention-whore them…I've learned my lesson from 'Call of the Grave.')
Lastly, for any confusion on the little girl's infection…think Frank from 28 Days Later.
As always, reviews and feedback are appreciated.
- C.C.