Author's Note:
Hello to all fanfic readers out there, and a warm welcome to the story of 4 other characters trying to survive in the zombie infested world of Left 4 Dead. This is the second fanfic I've written, so hopefully it's much better than my first in terms of sentence structure.
Also, this story is running concurrently with L4D: Origins, written by the awesome Lardcake212. Reading his fic really motivated me to start writing my own, and what better way to honour that than to place the characters in the same world as his characters. To put it simply, the characters in this story exist in the same world as the characters from Lardcake212's story. His story is still on-going, which would indefinitely lead some possible timeline errors in future chapters. I hope that readers would be understanding and not make a big fuss about it. I had already gotten permission from him to use/reference his work in here long before I even finished the first chapter. His story can be found in the following link: (you'll have to add in the full address, as for some reason, it's not being displayed even when I write it down here)
/s/4960899/1/L4D_Origins
I'll leave the introductions at that, as most of it is under my profile data, and proceed straight to disclaimers.
DISCLAIMERS: I do not own L4D, its world of infected, normals and specials alike, or any other concept that originated from Valve. I DO, however, own the four original characters that have been created for this story.
A big thanks goes out to a few of my best friends, Alwin, Jason, and Nicole, all of whom have been a real help from the time I met them to the time I began fighting zombies with them in L4D. This fic is dedicated to our neverending war against the undead!
Profile Data
Location: Fairfield, Pennsylvania
Population Estimate: 1,045,298 as of 18th November 2008
Fairfield, there is no other city as populated or urbanized as this. Ideals and beliefs come and go like the wind. People die, babies are born. Milestones are achieved, while failures abound. The mosaic colours of our soul is rapidly degrading into a gray monochrome, as we struggle to meet the next deadline, to outsmart our rivals, to climb up the endless corporate ladder. Perhaps this was a reminder from those high above, that there is more to life than the maddening pace of society, meaningless results printed on tests which were based on biased ideals. To enforce permanent change, sacrifices are inevitable. God flooded this world once to cleanse it of its filth, and now He has come to flood this world once again, with a force more frightening than mere floodwaters.
Super Rabies, as the doctors called it. Understanding its effect is simple- like rabies, it causes the host to brutally attack and kill anything in its sight, and because the human body demands constant nutrition, infected hosts would usually consume anything they can find, even corpses. The virus kills off several control cells and nerves in the body, such as pigmentation hormones and pain receptors, thus giving the host a zombie-like appearance- gray, wrinkling skin. An infected host does not feel any pain, so you can shoot one a dozen times and as long as you do not hit any of the major structures, such as the heart, brain, and spinal cord, it will not die. Should an infected host be devoid of nutrition over a long period of time, it will break down the protein stores in the body just like a normal human body would, leading to organ failures and ultimately, death. Unlike your normal 'zombies', these 'infected' (or zombies, if you feel more comfortable using that word) can survive for a long time given appropriate nutrition, and can run at a speed you never thought possible. Furthermore, unlike the normal rabies, people infected by Super Rabies do not die from the disease itself, something which has baffled doctors till this date.
The virus can take days to manifest itself, up to a week, but in China where the first cases occurred, there were reports that uninfected people turned almost immediately. During the time that the host has not yet turned, should the host do so much as sneeze or cough, he/she would have spread the virus to some twenty other people in the same room. Symptoms of the virus begin with days of unexplained headaches and coughing fits, followed by a high fever. Despite the fever going higher than 40 degrees Celsius, a patient would feel extremely cold, shivering involuntarily. It is at this point that the virus proceeds to enter the brain, damaging the regions that control speech and memory, causing the patient to fall into a deep slumber. When the patient awakes a few hours later, the virus would have completely dominated the brain, rendering the patient incapable of logical thinking and reverting him/her to an animal-like state.
But perhaps there is a bright side after all. Every 1 in 1000 people have a natural immunity to the virus, meaning that the virus is unable to express itself in the host due to specific genetic structures in the host's chromosomes, and remains dormant in the body. These people are not as contagious as those not immune to the virus, although they can still spread the virus via blood contamination through needles, surface wounds, or swallowing. Maybe, just maybe, these are the ones whom He has deemed pure enough to nurture the next generation of the human race, the ones who will board Noah's Ark.
That is, provided they don't get devoured by the rest.
It is one test after another. You can survive the initial outbreaks, but get infected later on. You can be immune to the virus, but be killed by the rest who are infected. You can be immune and survive the onslaught of attacks, but by some freak force of nature, get killed by other survivors desperate for supplies.
As of now, the entire continent of Asia has been placed in quarantine, and all communications had been cut off from them. Asia was now in darkness, left alone to drown in their own suffering and chaos while the rest of the world watched and prayed.
But the worse has yet to come. Already, similar cases have been reported in the outskirts of America. The authorities assured the general public that with all their state-of-the-art medical technology, the virus would have no chance of penetrating into the heart of America. Meaningless words from meaningless politicians. By the time the government gathered the courage to face the public with this false gesture of hope, the virus had already extended its wings over the entire nation.
The beginning of the end has already begun.
City Status: Infected
Chapter 1: The Calm Before the Storm
Hell's Hour – 6 days, 11:23PM
The humming of the electric microscope drifted through the air of the laboratory. Racks of test-tubes decorated the long rectangular table in the middle, each filled with a different coloured liquid, along with centrifuge machines and bottles of reagents. Stacks of paper were strewn haphazardly in front of a computer on one side of the room, and several cupboards were still left open despite the obvious safety precautions.
A young man turned his gaze away from the computer screen, rubbing his eyes and letting out a huge sigh of annoyance. He stood up and stretched himself, revealing his tall figure and muscular build. He ran a hand through his hair and stared into his reflection off the cupboard glass doors. True enough, his constant lab work had torn him away from his regular exercise, making him look less buff than he used to be. This man believed that achieving balance between physical and mental health contributes to work efficiency, perfection, and the girls. Just then, the door opened and a young woman stepped in, the ends of her lab coat fluttering about her legs.
She stood in front of the doorway, exchanging looks with the man at the table. "Dr. Chen, it's well beyond office hours, you should go home and get some rest."
"I'm fully aware of that, Susan. Don't worry, I'll leave soon." The man replied softly, turning back to the mess of papers on his desk. Normally, he would have freaked out at the sight of such a messy place, but now he was just too damn tired to give a shit.
Susan folded her arms and smiled. "I know a lie when I hear one. Come on Ashton, just because you want to be the first to make the discovery doesn't mean you have to suffer insomnia for that. How will you focus if you're too damn tired to know that your shoelaces are untied?"
Ashton snuck a glance downwards. Indeed, his shoelaces were dangling loosely. He let out a grunt before turning to the pile of papers on his desk. "I'll leave soon ok? Promise."
Susan smacked her forehead with her palm. "Well, I guess that means you won't be leaving anytime 'soon'." She walked across the room and sat down beside Ashton. "Since I can't talk you into going, mind if I question your progress to kill some time?"
Ashton turned to face Susan, momentarily admiring her beautiful face before focusing his thoughts back to the matter at hand. "So far, in every specimen, the result has been pretty much the same- the viral cells dominate the other cells, but it doesn't express itself at all. I've tried all kinds of mediums- muscle cells, skin cells, hair, bone, blood- and there wasn't any difference. What I found weird is that, as I mentioned, the virus does not express itself when it infects other cells, compared to normal viral cells that exhibit some sort of symptom in the host, allowing the host to identify that he has an infection."
"Something like HIV?" Susan asked.
"Yeah, something like that," Ashton continued. "Except this sucker doesn't die as quickly when exposed to normal air. I've left it in a contained pure nitrogen environment, and it survived for a few minutes before dying, which means that if another host is within close proximity, the virus can spread through the air and infect the other host, and THAT, my dear Susan, is what's freaking me out like hell."
"You're not thinking what I think you're thinking are you...?"
There was a brief silence between the two scientists. "I took these samples from a few people who complained of fever, claiming they suffered bite wounds from stray animals here in Fairfield, and that their current medication wasn't working." Ashton took a deep breath before continuing. "If we add up the main disease arising from animal bites to the similarities with HIV, we could have something big here. There's only one type of cell that I have not tried exposing it to."
Susan did not have to wait for an answer. "Brain cells."
"Correct, since it's so damn hard to obtain fresh samples of brain cells. But thinking about it now, I'm afraid of even trying. Who knows what kind of results I'll get."
"Well, if it's negative, you can sleep soundly at night. But if it's positive, then you've got some kind of...of," Susan waved her hands around, trying to come up with a name. "super rabies-HIV kind of virus?"
"More like super rabies, given that the origin was the animal bites." Ashton corrected. "With something of this magnitude, hell, even government assurance won't cut it."
Half an hour later, Ashton and Susan were walking down the deserted hallway of Mercy Hospital. Most biomedical researchers usually carry out their work in privately located laboratories, but just yesterday, Ashton, along with several of his colleagues, were assigned to research on this new strain of virus recently obtained, and in order to carry out proper research, they were relocated to the higher floors of Mercy Hospital.
"You think the big shots will accept my theory?" Ashton asked, stepping into the elevator after Susan.
"Depends, provided the other biomeds don't get to them before you do. Although, after hearing your theory, I'm starting to be scared. Rabies in humans is fatal, but the number of possible cases we have had in two days equals the number of confirmed cases of Rabies over the past two centuries! If this virus can spread easily through the air, we're talking major quarantine measures here." There was an obvious tone of unrest in her voice.
"I don't think they'll jump to conclusions just yet, there are still too many unanswered questions."
Susan pressed the ground floor button, and as soft thrumming of the elevator filled the small compartment, thoughts of his work over the past two days started to flood his mind. He was so confident that he could find the answers, to be the first one to decipher the viral code. Brimming with confidence, he had entered the lab and soon became engrossed in his work, forgetting about lunch time or toilet breaks. It was not long before he experienced failures. Already, the effect of multiple dead ends began to take its toll on Ashton's mental health. He was not one who could take failures lightly, despite all his colleagues telling him bullshit like 'through failures, you can learn your mistakes'. To Ashton, failure means possessing an insufficient amount of the knowledge required, and given his field of study, knowledge was even more important than the air he breathed.
Maybe it was just the way Ashton was raised. The younger of two brothers, his family was what others would call, high-flyers- his father was a top notch lawyer, his mother a world-class surgeon, and his elder brother a navy captain. Failure was not an option to anyone of his bloodline, something that Ashton respected greatly. Throughout his studies, being in first was the only thing that mattered to him, and he consistently secured top grades at his school. It was all done legitimately of course- a Chen would never resort to dirty methods to win, an invaluable lesson taught from the wisdom of his father.
Right now, Ashton shuddered at the thought of having to face his family and tell them that he failed to perform. Failed, the one word they despised. He quickly dismissed the thought. No matter what, he would persist. Perhaps there was some meaning to the saying after all, that through failures, a person like Ashton would derive great motivation from it, breaking the boundaries of modern science.
Hah, maybe not that far. Yet.
Cold night air rushed to greet them as they stepped out of the hospital entrance. They were standing in front of the drop off point which connected to the main road, exiting towards the left and to their right around the corner. A small, dilapidated bus-stop sat at the corner of the road. Ahead of them, across a small artificial grass patch, stood the name of the hospital in all its glory, framed by dark coloured marble, facing the row of seemingly impenetrable buildings opposite the road. Susan's car was parked on the left, in the enlarged part of the drop off lane for ambulances to stop.
"Need a lift back?" Susan asked, turning to Ashton.
"Sure, thanks."
She inserted the key and turned. The car let out a loud blaring siren, almost making Ashton's heart jump right out of his chest. The alarm sounded two times louder in the quiet atmosphere, echoing down the streets.
"What the fuck!" Susan cursed as she frantically pressed the button on her key. The alarm died down as soon as it started. She looked up at Ashton, face red with embarrassment. "Sorry! I thought I already disabled the alarm."
Ashton could hear the faint sounds of dogs barking and cats screeching in the distance, and swore he could hear the scuffling of tiny feet on the pavement.
"Heh, no worries. The adrenaline rush was good though." Ashton joked as Susan got into the driver's seat.
There was a flicker of movement on the road exit directly in front of them. Ashton peered into the darkness ahead. A dog, no, three dogs, had come into his view, their nails making light tapping sounds on the gravel. Upon noticing (and possibly smelling) Ashton, they stopped and looked up, and began growling deeply in their throats, snarling and baring their teeth which reflected brightly in the dim moonlight.
"Holy... Get in Ashton, I wanna get the fuck out of here." Susan beckoned. She started the engine and switched on the headlights. It shone straight into the dogs, revealing their bodies which Ashton could not clearly see before. But as soon as he took in the details, something in his stomach churned wildly, and he could taste something bitter at the back of his throat.
Most of the dogs' fur had fallen off, revealing bare patches of skin with several big, dark-coloured spots. They began barking furiously at the source of the lights, spitting saliva from their gaping mouths. Their eyes were bloodshot, depicting the rage contained in these once faithful and loyal animals.
Suddenly, the dogs took off sprinting towards Ashton. He snapped out of his shock and jumped into the passenger seat, slamming the door closed just as the first of the dog threw itself onto it. It clawed and barked into the window, its red eyes fixated on the two humans inside, as the other two dogs did the same on the other side of the car.
"What the fuck?! Was Rabies ever this extreme!" yelled Ashton, his voice barely audible over the barking.
"I don't know!" Susan shouted back as she slammed her foot on the accelerator. The car sped off down the road at an alarming speed. Ashton peered over his shoulder, listening to the sounds of barking grow softer and softer till the only thing he could hear was his own heart thumping. Despite the short encounter, Ashton was sweating profusely while Susan had a death grip on the steering wheel almost as if she was clinging onto it for dear life. When it was certain they were safe, Ashton slumped into his seat and covered his face with his hands.
Never again will he roam the streets at night.
Hell's Hour – 4 days, 1:48PM
"Whew, that's the last thread." Nicole stretched her slender legs outward and yawned. Since there was still time before the meeting, she might as well take it easy and enjoy some of her homemade recipes. She rose from her chair and drew the curtains, letting the afternoon sunlight flood the small room, bathing her in a warm, refreshing feeling.
A grade book with the name 'NICOLE MILANDERS FOX' printed on the cover in bold lay beside her sewing tools. Her room was neatly organized to suit her needs- she, being a believer in Feng Shui, the Chinese art of organizing furniture to maximize positive energy flow, had moved her desk against one of the side walls so that her back would not be facing the door. A small bed sat against the corner at the end of the room, and next to it, Nicole's most prized possession, a fully automatic sewing machine. Sewing was, perhaps, her most favourite hobby among many others. In fact, she not only stitched torn clothing, she would come up with original designs on paper and through trial and error, bring the fabric to real life. She would then wear said clothing out, earning much laughter and admiration from her friends in college, and the occasional meeting with the discipline master.
Nicole was known as the beacon of light among her close friends. No matter what problem they faced, Nicole never failed to offer her help through words of encouragement. Whether it was after being dumped, or fretting about the next day's test, her friends always found solace and motivation in her words. She was, and will always be, an optimist. Childhood experiences had brought her up in such a way that it would hurt her even more to see someone close to her suffer at the hands of fate.
Thinking of people close to her made her thoughts drift to her family in Riverside. She wondered what they were doing right now, how much they missed her and vice versa. Staying in Fairfield while the rest of her family moved was a hard decision, but her parents understood the reason and supported her. Education standards in Fairfield were undoubtedly higher than that in Riverside, and Nicole had already secured a spot in the local university. Along with the amount of money spent on tuition fees, Nicole was determined not to let her parents down.
She strolled down the hallway of the girls' dorm and soon reached the communal kitchen. For such a prestigious university, one would think that the kitchen would be a little bit more luxurious, but Nicole didn't complain, for she was contented with whatever she had. There was nobody else in there save for a girl. She had her back facing Nicole as she stepped in. Her hair was tied back into a small ponytail, making her instantly recognizable by Nicole.
"Hey Zoey, not at the library as usual?" Nicole called out loudly.
Zoey gave a small yelp of surprise and dropped the tomato she was holding. She turned back to a laughing Nicole. "Geez, Nicole, don't scare me like that. Not good for my asthma you know..."
Nicole couldn't stop giggling as she opened the refrigerator and began taking out her required ingredients. "Sorry, didn't know you were that easily frightened. And you still haven't answered my question."
"You want me to go out there with all the crazy animals running about? Uh-uh, I'm staying right here as much as I can." Zoey said, proceeding on with her sandwich making.
Yet another victim to fear, Nicole thought, staring at Zoey from behind the fridge door.
She was not spared from it herself. Nowadays more and more student preferred to lock themselves in their own rooms, surfing Facebook and watching meaningless television throughout the entire day. Walking down to the kitchen earlier, Nicole could hear sounds coming from every room, telling her that practically nobody had left the dorm since morning, which was unnatural at this time of the day.
Nicole continued to make her lunch, choosing to disregard whatever happening outside the safe walls of her dormitory. Zoey noticed Nicole's tense face, and, afraid that she might have spoke faster than she could think earlier, decided to break the ice by asking what sort of lunch Nicole was making.
"Oh this? My very own special- cereal with milk and jelly beans, topped with a generous serving of peanut butter! I call it the 'Sweet Disaster'."
"Um, maybe I shouldn't have asked..." Zoey gulped, suddenly imagining that her sandwich was nothing but a pile of messy slime.
"Wanna try some?"
Nicole held the bowl up to Zoey's nose, inducing her to swallow her saliva. "Ah, haha, no thanks, I'm all set. See ya around!" Zoey laughed nervously, before grabbing her plate and practically running out of the kitchen.
Man, why doesn't anyone appreciate my attempts to be cheerful in this era of animal fury.
Even if she was the beacon of light for her friends, how long will a beacon remain lit without the help of a technician to maintain it? She could be the shining light for her friends, but who will be her shining light?
Two hours later, Nicole sat against the wall in her friend's dorm room. They were discussing their budget for a project to construct an environmental friendly garbage compactor, but none of their words registered to Nicole as she sat staring out onto the streets of Fairfield, her mind drifting off into deep thought. Her friends noticed Nicole's blank expression, and suggested they head out for an ice-cream break.
There were a few people walking along by the roadside, but now and then they would throw a glance over their shoulder or into the alleyways as they passed, looking out for any stray animals. Nicole and her friends stood outside the nearby ice-cream parlour.
"Vanilla, single scoop please." Nicole recited. As she reached for the cone, a sudden loud metallic thud frightened her and she dropped the cone onto the floor. Her friends had let out a brief scream (which also caused the ice cream vendor to scream). They all turned to the origin of the sound- an alleyway right next to the parlour. From the shadow of the building came a small cat. Quick observation told Nicole that it wasn't one that would attack people for no reason- its fur was neat and it showed no signs of rabies.
One of Nicole's friends let out a sigh of relief and approached the cat. "Aww, cute little thing must've knocked over a trash can." The cat eyed her as she approached it.
"Mary, Mary wait." Nicole reached forward and held her friend back.
And just in time too. The cat suddenly started hissing loudly at the sight of Mary coming closer. It arched its back upwards and raised its tail while baring her teeth and sharp nails. Its green eyes had turned a deep red as it continued to snarl at them. Then, it suddenly turned and ran back into the alley where it came from.
All of them were too shocked to say anything, momentarily rooted at the spot at the sight of a seemingly docile animal suddenly turning mad. Nicole continued staring at the entrance of the alley, trying to convince herself that what just happened, had just happened.
Just then, it started to rain.
Hell's Hour – 4 days, 5:14PM
Beads of sweat trickled down a tanned, well-defined face, resembling raindrops falling as it dripped down to the floor in small droplets. The light from the ceiling spotlights reflected off the moisture on his skin, showing off his lean, muscular built. His body was slightly arched forward, adrenaline in his blood preparing him to leap off at the slightest signal. His muscles tensed, his trusted weapon gripped firmly in his right hand, his vision narrowing down to the target in front of him. Everything seemed to move in slow-motion, the shuffling of people among the crowd, the spinning of the fan's rotor blades, and the movement of his opponent's chest as he too, took deep breathes. This was it. All his months of training completed for the sole purpose of getting past this very moment. He couldn't afford to be distracted by his surroundings, not even the slightest. This was all that mattered. If he lost this, then it's game over for him and all his hard work.
With one final breath, Johan stretched out his arms and delivered a faked soft serve over the net. His opponent, Colin Wokshire of the University of London, anticipated this commonly-used tactic, and sprung forward to reflect the shuttlecock back towards the far end of Johan's court. Johan countered with a backhanded swing, causing Colin to stretch across to his right to prevent it from touching the floor. The mind games went on for a good five minutes, and both players started to feel the agony in their legs. It was then Colin saw his chance and delivered the famous drop-shot straight towards Johan's legs, a hit that seemed almost invincible to the eye, let alone be deflected. The next Colin knew, the shuttlecock hovered over his head before dropping down to the ground right behind him, right at the edges of the court.
Shouts of joy erupted from the crowd behind Johan as he wiped the sweat of his brow, heaving a huge sigh. Both players approached each other and shook hands under the netting.
"Man, how did you manage to reflect that last hit?" Colin asked, still unable to believe that Johan could spot such a fast hit.
"Well, it may sound like bragging, but I kinda gave you a high one to trick you into doing a drop-shot. The more tired a player is, the more he'll seize an opportunity to finish off the opponent. So I just...did a drop-shot counter." Johan replied. "Good game though, you gave me a run for my money."
Being the humble person he was, Johan did not like seeking pleasure in tormenting his opponents. Just the other time, he had a winning streak in a game of Big 2 with his classmates, and out of curiosity, he decided to fake defeat to see what the outcome would be. As expected, his classmates were savoring their sweet victory, laughing at the top of their voices and apparently forgetting that Johan was still sitting there, smiling to himself. It was so easy for a person to suddenly become oblivious to the emotions of others around him, something which Johan simple accepted with a pinch of salt.
After all, what goes around comes around. Even though it may seem to an average person a mere superstition, Johan firmly believed such sayings had deeper meanings. He wasn't the sort who would easily dismiss anything as gibberish without sound reasoning. He would always say to himself 'Everything happens for a reason', to the point that his friends and colleagues could already anticipate when his infamous statement would flow out of his mouth.
This was the sort of person Johan Ho C. Howard was. At 21 years old, he had moved to Fairfield a year ago to pursue further studies in Fairfield University, aiming at a degree in computer engineering. Born in New Zealand, the transition to a heavily urbanised area such as Fairfield wasn't as easy as he thought.
Johan felt a firm pat on his back. Patrick Klonders, his coach, was beaming down at him, valiantly trying to control his happiness that was leaking out of his facial expression.
"Nicely done, Johan. You've brought the gold medal back to our school, ten years since our last one. You should be proud!"
"Of course I am, Coach! That's why you put me through hell didn't you?" Johan joked. "Besides, there was quite a bit of luck and advantage on my side. I could clearly tell Colin wasn't at his maximum form."
Johan stole a quick glance back to Colin, who was sitting at one of the side benches. Johan had noticed before the start of the match that Colin appeared to be slightly paler than when they were introduced a week ago, and now he was coughing profusely, comforted by his friends and coach.
"Well, at least he still played. Nothing's worse than withdrawing from a match you've trained so much for." Patrick replied, following Johan's glance to the sick-looking Colin.
Hmph, so much for fate.
Johan shook the thought out of his head. "So Coach, are you going for the party?"
The Interstate Youth Badminton Competition after-party, a time where players from all the participating schools can get together and talk about things other than badminton, as well as get horribly drunk and do something embarrassing, like lifting girls' skirts or running naked down the street. That would be where Johan would have to face a thousand pairs of eyes as he received his award.
"Don't think so. I've been having this weird headache since last Monday, so jumping up and down is a definite no-go from me. And neither is alcohol."
"Bah, what a waste. I was looking forward to introducing the demon that made this possible for me to all the other players!"
The duo laughed heartily. Patrick left Johan to indulge in his milestone victory, coughing as he walked away. Johan's gaze remained fixed on his coach. Something was amiss, a simple headache or cough would have subsided after a day or two, yet people were tortured by it for as long as a week.
Thinking back, the daily newspaper stated that there has been a sudden surge in patients being admitted due to high fever, prolonged coughing fits and severe headaches, symptoms that would otherwise seem minor. Even when walking on the streets, he could notice several people around him coughing or rubbing ointment on their temples. It was also reported that animal attacks were increasingly frequent, causing the authorities to warn the general public to avoid intimidating or approaching wild animals in the streets, and also led to a rise in animal euthanasia. Stray dogs, cats, even the docile monkeys in the surrounding forested area. Johan shuddered at the thought of an epidemic. Readings of the Great Plaque was enough to chill him to the bone, let alone experience one personally.
But despite all this, Johan was still in tip-top shape. Other than his stomach butterflies, no throbbing headaches, irritations of the throat, or anything else for that matter. Johan carried on his everyday life as per normal.
A stroke of luck this time? Or maybe something more divine in nature. I think I'll stick with the former for now.
There was a pat on his back again. This time, it was hard enough to knock the wind out of his lungs. Johan whirled around, eyes blazing, and found himself staring up at Jason's smiling face.
"Hey man, you were awesome! Whaddaya say we go get a drink to celebrate this occasion!"
Jason T. Fonshire, Johan's good friend since coming to Fairfield. Standing at 6ft5, he easily towered over Johan's 5ft8 frame despite being only a year older than Johan. Jason pursued a career in the police force, graduating at the top of his cohort back at the academy. Fairfield was his first choice of interest, and when asked why he decided to go there, he merely replied that 'the more people there are, the more thrills I get to experience!'. His wish was granted, and he was posted to Fairfield several years ago. Being the youngest yet brightest officer Fairfield ever had, he quickly established good working relationship with his colleagues and boss. Many a times he had been asked to attend work functions and parties, something which Jason found it hard to decline (probably due to the free food). Styled, spiky hair, and a lean muscular build completed the police officer look, making even the regulars look like newcomers to the force.
The pair had met, ironically, during a dispute in a food court. It was late at night, and only a few food stalls were left open. Johan and Jason were eating at separate tables in the quiet food court, when a group of teenage punks made their way into the food court, shouting vulgarities at seeing the limited variety of food stalls left open. Between Johan's and Jason's table, sat a young woman scribbling down notes whilst sipping at her dessert every now and then. To the average man, this woman was indeed rather attractive, dressed in a purple sleeveless shirt under a thin, sky blue jacket, and a dark green skirt to give an interesting overall colour. Her unique trendy fashion was probably why the group of teenagers made their way towards her, intruding onto her privacy as they began harassing her, flirting and making obscene noises, whilst surrounding her to prevent her from running off. One of them even went so far as to run his hands down her legs.
"Hey, s-stop that!"
Jason was already standing in front of the group even before she finished her sentence. "I think you all should just leave her alone." Johan looked up at Jason's words, already anticipating what was going to happen next.
The teenagers, five of them in total, stood up and began challenging him. "Who the fuck do you think you are? Wanna fight?" They then advanced towards Jason like a group of vultures.
"I don't want to cause any tr-" Jason barely finished his sentence when the front-most teenager swung his fist towards Jason. Naturally, Jason simply shifted his body to the side and grabbed the teenager's arm as it soared past his face. Following the momentum, Jason spun around and tossed the teenager aside. As he crashed into a table, another one of them picked up a chair and screamed in anger as he attempted to bring it down onto Jason's head, only to have an elbow ram straight into his face, breaking his nose and sending him staggering into two others. During the struggle, the last of the group crept up behind Jason, wielding a small knife in his hand, ready to plunge it deep into Jason's back, when he felt something hard smash into his head. Jason turned and saw Johan standing over the punk's squirming body with a badminton racket in hand.
"Hey, thanks man."
"No problem, thought you could use some help."
The punks got up and ran staggering out of the food court, accompanied by cheers from the few food stalls' owners. The girl had her face flat on the table, hands firmly clasped behind her head, obviously too scared to do anything else but shield herself.
"Um, excuse me? It's alright now, they're gone" Jason said softly.
At the sudden sound of his voice, the girl yelped and stood up. She quickly looked around, before heaving a sigh of relief.
"Oh-emm-gee, thank you so much for coming to my rescue!" The girl said, smiling and beaming at the pair.
"What's a girl like you doing here so late? Isn't it dangerous at this time?" Jason stated.
The girl's face reddened with embarrassment. "Well, I was desperate for some chocolate marshmallow pudding, and had to finish up my paper, so I guess I lost track of time..."
Something churned inside Johan's stomach. Chocolate marshmallow pudding?! Where did that come from, Mars?
"I better walk you back to your home, just to be sure those punks from before don't try anything...illegal. Don't worry, I'm a police officer." Jason took out his ID and showed it to both of them. He then turned to Johan. "Wanna tag along? The more the merrier."
With nothing else to do, and his food all over the floor, Johan nodded, and the trio began walking down the quiet streets of Fairfield. Light from the street lamps provided poor illumination on the road, making the buildings seem like dark, towering monstrosities. Occasionally the sound of a stray dog barking, or laughter from one of the night clubs permeated the air, but other than that, they only had the quiet comfort of the night breeze.
"So what are your names?" Jason asked loudly, causing the other two to jump. "Would be rude of me to merely refer to you both as nameless people."
"N-N-Nicole, Nicole Milanders."
"I'm Johan."
They began talking about everyday things, like current affairs, annoying teenage punks, games like 'Living 4 Death' (much to Nicole's despair). Their laughter floated into the night air, drawing curious stares from the stray animals in the streets. Soon they reached the apartment building where Nicole stayed.
"Thanks officer. See you both soon!" Nicole waved, running up the stairs and slamming the door behind her.
"So desperate to get rid of us, eh..." Jason said sarcastically. "Well, what about you?"
"I live couple of streets down that way. Pergson road."
"Well, I'll be damned. I live in the same street as you, how coincidental is that!" Jason exclaimed as he swung his arm around Johan's neck, nearly choking him.
After that incident, the two of them regularly bumped into each other at that same food court- apparently both had a strange craving for the Asian food stall. They did not see Nicole at the food court anymore (probably because of her traumatic experience). As their meetings became more frequent, it was revealed that staying in the same street was not the only thing they both had in common- badminton, and an interest in small firearms were just some of the interests they both shared. Soon, their friendship had developed deeply, and they were often seen at the firing range, challenging each other to score attacks, much to the humour of Jason's colleagues.
"I've told you a million times- I do not drink!" Johan barked.
"You can always just ask the boss for a glass of milk."
"Not funny. Let me just finish up and grab my stuff." Johan grabbed the face mask issued by the school to all students and ran out after Jason.
There was a light drizzle as they stepped out of the massive hall. Further down, the streets were devoid of life and colour, unnerving Johan greatly. A quick glance at his watch told him it was only 6pm. It was unnatural- and seemingly impossible- that the streets of Fairfield would be deserted when the darkness of night had not yet settled. Fairfield was known to foreigners as the city that never sleeps- there will bound to be people wherever you go, 24/7. Delinquents who hated home, drunkards who got retrenched hours ago, prostitutes desperate for some quick cash, you name it.
"Not gonna put on your face mask? You're a police officer, you know. Role-model kind."
"Bah, if that piece of plastic could stop infections so easily, the world would be disease-free by now."
There was some truth to that. "Hey Jason, don't you find it strange that the city's this quiet at this time of the day?"
"It's expected, what with that damn virus rumoured to be sweeping across the globe, and all these animal attacks we have here. If those animal control guys don't do anything soon, it'll only be a matter of time before we'll all be forced to live like turtles." Jason's gaze wandered off as he spoke, obviously pondering something in his mind.
"You mean, like hermit crabs...?"
"WHAT-ever."
It was a cold joke, but nevertheless, anything that could even lift the mood by one bit was much appreciated. Jason was right, even if his analogy was off the top of his head. To be so close yet so far from your neighbours and friends, how long could one man live?
As Johan sipped from his glass of milk, amidst flirtatious strippers and shocked glances from the bartender, listening to Jason's stories of dreaming to jump across buildings like Trinity from The Matrix, he hoped he wouldn't have to answer that question.
A/N: There you have it, the introductions to the four main characters of L4D: Hell's Hour. Believe it or not, the name of this story is still undergoing finalization- I was so engrossed in writing out the content that I gave zero thought to what the actual title of the story would be. What's a good story without a kickass title?
Once again, a big thanks to Alwin, Jason, and Nicole. As you might already know, I based the names of the 4 characters off of them (my name is Julian Ho), with their permission of course. Special thanks goes out to Alwin and Lardcake212 for proofreading through my chapters before I upload them!
And, as any other author of fanfics would say, PLEASE R&R!!! Chapter 2 is already finished but still undergoing final editing (I have a habit of wanting to finish the next chapter before uploading the one before that, so as to minimise factual errors), so I really need to hear your honest opinions as readers with regards to my writing style, tenses, sentence structures, anything that you can think of!
P.S. I've taken a timeline approach to the style of this story, shifting perspectives everytime so you get to see what's going on in all the characters' heads. If you're still confused as to what those 'Hell's Hour - 6 days' mean, it's read as 'Hell's Hour minus 6 days', AKA '6 days before outbreak'. As the story progresses, the time proceeds towards Hell's Hour itself (which is in chapter 3), and then after that, which would then be 'Hell's Hour + 4 days'.