Left 4 Dead

Carabelle and Uncle Chuck

It was normally a rough neighborhood,, always filled with the stench of crime, poverty, and despair, but people often tried to make the best of things when they could. Everyone knew one another, and nobody was left behind. It was the kind of neighborhood I'd pass in the car with my parents on the way to school: The kind that I'd wonder how people could live there under such poor conditions. My mom raised me to be nice to people no matter what their background was, but sometimes I'd turn the other way when I saw anything going on in a neighborhood like this. I never wanted to get involved.

And now, more than ever, this place looked like a blood stained dump. And ever since the outbreak, these parts became more barren and kind of like a little ghost town of its own. I found myself sitting on the roof of one of the houses-The only one that hadn't collapsed- wondering how my life would have been if I lived here. I'm pretty sure It would have been nice, because I'd have had more friends and all...But in the back of my mind, my spoiled self believed that I could never live in a dirty old neighborhood in a hick town like this. It's not something I would have done...Just something I would have wondered.

I didn't notice, at first, that I wasn't alone, but when I turned my head and saw him, I almost jumped. He was a rather tall fellow, and His right side was so covered in festering boils and bumps [that had some sort of slithery tongues sticking out of them] that I had difficulty making his profile out. However, his left side was clear of any sort of blemish. He stood there for a second, his little green eye [The only one that was visible, anyway] focused on me, and when it did so, the man calmly scratched the back of his head and attempted to blow some of his coconut colored hair out of his face. I guess he was trying to look smooth, but it didn't work so well, because as soon as he blew out, he started coughing violently and had to turn away from me.

I ignored him, like any good natured person would, and went on staring into the distance, hoping that he wouldn't come near me or interact with me.

He did both.

As soon as I turned back to him, he had already taken a seat next to me. With one knee against himself and one arm resting on it, he sighed.

"Can I help you?" I questioned rather rudely. I didn't mean to seem so snobbish, but I supposed it was fitting because I was in a rather bad mood after everything I had been through.

The man didn't speak for a second, and I was about to get up when he suddenly started talking.

"Wonder if there's any more survivors out there," he muttered with a light southern accent. "By the looks of it, I'd say they're either dead, or infected."

He turned to me, and I stared at him blankly from under my hood.

"You looked sorta lonely, little miss," He admitted. "So I came by to keep ya company."

"Well I don't need company right now," I shot back, getting a little angry at the sudden memory of what had happened on the school rooftop earlier. "So just go away."

"Where ya from?" The man persisted, as if trying to cheer me up. "Me? I was born and raised here in Tennessee. From the looks of it, I'd say you were too."

I didn't respond. When he asked me once again, I sighed.

"I'm actually from Utah," I mumbled. "I came to Tennessee Because of my parents. My mom got a job offer and my dad thought it'd be a nice idea, since that's where he was raised."

"I'm guessing you didn't want to come all the way out here?" the man inquired. I shook my head.

"Didn't matter, really," I confessed. "I never had any friends back in Utah. I made a friend here."

I cringed a little bit at bringing the subject up.

"Who was he?" The man asked.

"Why do you care?" I demanded.

"Sounds like you've got a sob story that you need to get off your chest," the man mused, turning his head to cough.

"I've got one of my own, in fact. Just about everyone does."

"Not everyone," I argued. "There's people who survived, you know."

"Well shoot," The man laughed. "Even the survivors got sob stories. They lost their friends and family, didn't they?"

"Doesn't mean they care. And I'm pretty sure that there are people out there that just became infected without some sort of sob story."

"Everyone has a sob story."

"Yeah Right."

"Well, I'll tell you what, little miss" the man started, switching the leg he was leaning against. "How 'bout I tell you my sob story, an' then you can tell me yours?"

I rolled my eyes at him, but I forgot that I had the hood, so he couldn't see me.

"Fine," I sighed.

"I s'pose I should start with my name," the man began, in an as-a-matter-of-fact tone. "My name is Buddy, but everyone I know calls me Uncle Chuck. Why they do so I do not know."

I smiled a bit. To me, the name sounded horrible, but somehow suited him.

"I had a nice girl," Buddy went on. "Her name was Leah. She was from up north somewhere. Heck, I don't know, New York? Either way, she was a real beauty. She was a friend of a friend. We met at some sort of social gathering, but at this point, I don't remember. Nor do I care. Ya see, we fell madly in love with each other, and after a long while, I saved enough money to get her an engagement ring of sorts. We spent a few months together, and things were goin' real well."

Buddy paused to cough violently. He spat blood for a second, and I was afraid that he might cough up a lung, but he went on.

"But when I decided to propose to her, using my Grandmama's ring, she rejected me and left me, WITH the ring, for another man. I was furious! And I'll tell you now, if I hadn't respected her so much, I'd a gone to that bastard's home and torn up the place. AND took back my damn ring that she decided to keep. But I didn't. I hadn't had one drink since my Mama died, so I smoked most of the time, but that night, I went out to a bar and got shit faced. I couldn't even stand up right without someone havin' to assist me. But apparently I wasn't behavin' right so my friends decided to leave me there. At about four in the mornin', the people at the bar told me to go home, and since I didn't have no ride, and I didn't have the money for some fancy cell phone, I had to walk all the way back. I walked along a road, and there weren't no cars comin'. I was all by myself."

Buddy coughed again.

"Then outta the blue comes this…this zombie," he went on. "He knocked me down and started tearin' at me and such. I was too drunk to do nothin', but somehow the damn thing went away and I was left for dead by it on the street. When I woke up I was in the hospital. Leah was there, ready to take me back because apparently her man left her, and you know what I said to her?"

I shook my head.

"I told her to get out of my life and to keep everything that she took from me!" Buddy shouted. "I didn't want anythin' to do with her anymore. I swore off women there and then. So, she ran away, cryin' and stuff, and I was left in the hospital until I could recover. After a while, more people started gettin' put in the hospitals, and eventually there weren't no more doctors to take care of us. The infection had spread, and nobody was left alive. I got out of that hospital a couple days ago and I've been wanderin' 'round since, doing what zombies do."

"Eating brains?" I guessed.

"Naw," Buddy waved as if shooing a fly away. "We actually prefer their innards. Brains is just a stereotype."

He laughed a little bit, and I did too, just to fill in the emptiness.

"So, what about you, little miss?" Buddy asked. "Tell Uncle Chuck all about this friend of yours. I'll bet it's a sob story too."

"Something like that," I admitted solemnly. "My friend, his name was Joseph," I continued, suddenly starting to feel uncomfortable talking about him. "He was my first real friend."

"And what happened to him?" Buddy asked quietly, seeing my sudden discomfort.

"I killed him," I responded gruffly, turning away from Buddy. "I didn't want to...He asked me to because he was infected...but..."

I was startled then when Buddy put his hand on my shoulder.

The part of his lips that were visible curved upward into a smile.

"It's alright, Uncle Chuck is here for you," he assured me. "I understand what you're trying to say. Y'all don't need to continue."

I smiled back at him, unable to muster up a 'Thank you.'

"What's your name, anyway?" Buddy inquired. "You never did tell me."

"T-Terra," I stuttered, shaking away the memory of Joseph. "My name is Terra."

"Well, Terra," Buddy began, "Seein' as we ain't strangers no more- In fact, I think we're pretty good friends, just about- I want you to call me Uncle Chuck, just like everybody else. And I'll call ya Carabelle."

"Carabelle?" I questioned. "Why?"

"For one," Buddy explained, "We need to put our pasts behind us. There ain't no sense in whining about somethin' when it's already happened. And for another, Carabelle was the name of my cousin. I think it's Italian for 'Dearly Beloved' or 'God's Promise'...Somethin' like that..."

"You speak Italian?" I asked skeptically, raising a brow.

"Hell no!" Buddy exclaimed, both laughing and coughing. "But my other cousin, Bobby Joe does. We just call him Joey. He was one of them lucky folks who had the money to study abroad. Whatsa matter? Don't you like the name Carabelle?"

"If it keeps us from remembering the past, then of course I do..." I admitted with a smile.

"...Uncle Chuck."

Buddy laughed heartily, like any southerner would. "Atta girl," he complimented, patting me on the back. Then, he stood up and coughed some more. I looked at him and tilted my head a bit.

"What do you say to us going out and painting the town red, Carabelle?" He asked with a smirk.

I also smirked, and moved my legs under myself in a crouching position.

"I'd say, 'Lead the way, Uncle Chuck.'"

"Well alright," Buddy agreed with a slight nod.

He jumped off of the rood and began to run off. I pounced along, following him, and I was content, for some reason. It might not have been that clear to me at the time, but Uncle Chuck was my new Guardian, and I was happy. Sure, I missed Joseph, more than anything, but I figured that Uncle Chuck was right about forgetting about my past and moving on, and that's just what I intended to do.