Author's Note: If you haven't read Max Brooks' World War Z then you cannot call yourself a true zombie fan. This is based loosely off of his writing style and is supposed to be considered incorporated into part of his oral history report of the Great Zombie War that nearly annihilated the existence of mankind on the planet. Obviously there are stark differences between the World War Z universe and the Left 4 Dead universe, but I did my best to find a loyal mid-ground between the two.

But don't take my word for it. Honestly, go out and get the book. Not only is it a great piece of literature by itself, but it's a great piece of ZOMBIE related literature, and the two things are nearly impossible to have at the same time. Please read it, maybe then you'll get a better understanding and appreciation of what I've done here even, because there's no way in an L4D world that Max Brooks would have passed up the original Survivors' stories.

Also, please review. It completes my soul.

MARATHON, THE FLORIDA KEYES, UNITED STATES

[Of all the many islands that are getting their foot in the door in the post war economy, none can say that their start has such an amazing tale as that of Marathon. The three forerunners working to populate this island originally started in Fairfield Pennsylvania and walked on foot to Savannah, Georgia. Although the three of them are now close friends living side by side here today, only one has agreed to talk with me. Her name is Zoey. She is twenty-three years old, but has the faded eyes of a tired woman who has seen too much. She apologizes in advance for her companion's attitudes toward me, but I assure her not to worry.]

It's just been a while, you know. All we've ever done is work to try and make this community something to be proud of. We get suspicious when people come poking around and asking questions of us.

Is that because of the Carrier rumor?

[Her eyes visibly harden.]

Regardless, you're standing here right now and you're not infected. So I don't see how that matters.

Weren't you worried at first?

God, of course we were. It was the first thing we argued about, bringing people here, or letting those that were coming in by the boatloads stay. We might just end up having another mass infection on our hands, and that's exactly what we'd been trying to avoid. I mean to think that we'd come all that way only to be moved again? Or killed? No way. We weren't going to have that, even I agreed on it, even though I had originally wanted to stay on the mainland when we left for this place years ago.

So this wasn't an original idea set forth by all of you?

Oh God no. [Visibly pauses to compose herself.] There were four of us in the beginning. Myself, Francis – the big guy that gave you a really hard time – Louis, and Bill. Bill was an old Nam vet who never stopped sucking on a cigarette for as long as he was conscious. It was always just one right after the goddamned other. We weren't even sure where he got them half the time. But we all liked him in our own way. With one mess after another, he was the one that finally had the idea to come here. We didn't like it at first but…well, after he died we felt it was the best course of action. You know, to honor his memory and all.

If it was just the four of you how did you get here?

Sailboat. I know, not exactly very dramatic or worthy of a Hollywood story but when half of the boats in every harbor you pass are either capsized, on fire, or full of Zack the one thing that doesn't need gas to run sounds like a really comforting thought.

Was it difficult?

Oh hell yeah. Especially when you've got three idiots – don't get me wrong, I love those guys. They're family to me now – but they didn't know a goddamned thing more than I did about living off the land. I think that was where we started to miss Bill the most. He knew these kinds of things. We weren't sure if it was from being a Vet or if it was just Bill. Maybe he never really knew at all and we just took his word for it because we were all kids without guidance. Either way, the transition was difficult. There wasn't a lot here when the war broke out. People weren't thinking about vacations when Zack was knocking on their front doors. It was the same thing everyone heard. Go north, go north. That was what they all did. We weren't equipped enough so we went the opposite way and hoped that we would find some peace of mind, and to be honest every time we encountered non-infected we ended up being their doom, so peace of mind and solitude.

How so?

You heard of Milhaven, right? [I nod.] We were there when that shit went down. When those soldiers rebelled for fear of their own lives? They hadn't heard anything from command apparently in months, and of course CEDA had abandoned most of us once shit hit the fan. You know I wouldn't be surprised if those CEDA assholes weren't linked to Phalanx somehow. They were in and out too quickly for my tastes. I'm sure most of the people you've talked to would agree.

Was the island infested when you got here?

Well it wasn't easy. Thank God there were remnants of society. There was food, running water, ample amounts of toilet paper. Hey! When you're on the run for months you'll be amazed what you miss out there. But yeah, there were still zombies, but like I had said before, the islands had been mostly cleared out so not a lot to deal with, thankfully. It was the ones that would wash up on the surf that ended up being the biggest trouble, but those didn't start coming until after the refugees did. It was those boat engines, you know? They make noise underwater, and we all know that noise attracts Zack. At least that's what we were thinking. It explained why they increased tenfold after the population started to grow.

How did you establish leadership once other refugees started showing up?

[Sighs.] That was the most difficult part. At first when the community was smaller things were okay. We all helped each other out, there really wasn't a lot of need for governing or things like that. But then all these other people started coming in, people who back before the war had had money. They thought that that meant their shit didn't smell and that made them more entitled to take command. Mind you, sure, they may have had the education, but by then we had been there for so long we knew the island inside and out. We knew where everything was and furthermore, we had been the ones helping everyone, including these morons, get settled in. Now they were going to try and overthrow us? And that wasn't the biggest problem. We had some ex-cons sail in too. We didn't know at first. Wasn't like they'd all come in on a barred ship wearing their jump suits, but it became evident pretty fast where that was going. After a few months of squabbles and fights over stolen goods everyone had had enough. One of them had even tried to force themselves on me. He probably would have succeeded if Francis hadn't walked in on it. Beat the man to a goddamned pulp and then roped him up outside as an example for the others. After that…they learned fast who was boss. My guys didn't let anything slide. I guess they felt kinda guilty.

When you all got news that the mainland was safe again, why didn't you return?

We never really thought too much of it at first. Lots of people started leaving, but not us. One reason was because of the Carrier theory of course. We weren't sure if that had passed yet, or if it was even public knowledge. Or if we were wanted after Milhaven because we weren't sure if there had been survivors that might remember us. Sadly we found out later there hadn't been any, and we also weren't sure if we should be happy about that given the concern it brought for our own safety. But yes, many people left. They had family or homes that they wanted to go back to and try and reclaim. We didn't. There was nothing left back home for us. Our home was here now. We'd worked so hard to get here, we'd sacrificed so much to get here and to make it livable for as long as we thought we would need which, at that time we had believed would be the rest of our natural lives. You see we had no clue that there were so many survivors out there. [She laughs.] Not a lot of news that's run into on the open road when you're booking it on foot, you know? No. We weren't going to leave here. Not unless we had to for good reason.

None of you had family on the mainland you wished to return home to?

The only family any of us had knowingly left back on the mainland died getting us here, and that was Bill. As for myself, I was an only child growing up in Fairfield. I'd spent my first college semester holed up in my father's apartment all day watching horror flicks, ironically enough mostly zombies. Old Romero movies, Sam Raimi's Evil Dead trilogy, you know, the cult classics. [Rolls eyes.] When this "Green Flu" hit, we weren't affected. My mother was admittedly too wrapped up with her new husband and my father was working hard to drown out the idea that she had moved on so easily after him. They didn't notice until the grades came in that I hadn't even been going to class.

That night when we were all supposed to "discuss" my future was when it had happened. An infected somehow managed to get into my dad's apartment. Probably through an open window. For a cop he was certainly careless at times. He always used to assure me that we lived far enough away from New York to not have to worry about the same kind of crimes. God…for a seventeen year veteran of the force he could still show some amazing bouts of stupidity at times. Anyway…It went after my mother. I ran out to call 911 and when I came back she had reanimated and bit my father. Then she came after me, but my father took her down. It was hard for him to do, but…

If this is too difficult…

No. I'm sorry.

I killed him. I had too. At least at the time I had thought so. We didn't know that the Carrier-gene was passed down through the father so, hell we didn't even know there were carriers, or the possibility of immunity! No one knew shit and we still don't! That's the good CEDA has done for us. Not a goddamned thing! Anyway…in reality he probably could have been saved. He told me that he loved me and then gave me the gun. We'd seen this a million times in movies together. One guy gets bit and someone close to him always had to shoot him before he turned. We'd always made fun of that part in the movies. Thought it was stupid. Ironic how that ended up being my parting memory with my father.

I'm sorry.

Don't be. I'm sure others had worse. I found those guys and Bill not long after and we made a pretty good team. We took care of each other. They became my family. Honestly, I don't know much about their pasts before the war. I don't think any of us talk about it much because whoever that was before all of this was a different person compared to who we are now. I know Francis had been facing a jail sentence and Louis had been working in a job he hadn't allowed himself to admit that he hated. It makes me sad to realize that I knew even less about Bill. I don't think he wanted to think too much about it either. It wasn't like we could get it back, you know?

Maybe that's why we like it here. Maybe this is an escape from the failures we had left behind in our pre-war lives. This island, this life is our rebirth and we're working hard to make it something that we're proud to be a part of.

What was it like travelling by foot through over 600 miles of infested territory?

Well I'm sure being immune made it easier, but in reality that's the only thing we didn't have to worry about. Being immune from the Z disease, the Green Flu, whatever you want to call it, that ups your survival chances, but not by much. It doesn't make you immune to starvation or dehydration or exhaustion. It doesn't make you immune to other illnesses like the flu or god only knows what else one could get going through all that, although we didn't have it as bad as some others. We met up with this one group of others just like us who were going to New Orleans. We don't know if they made it, but if they did could you just imagine? Having to worry about swamplands? God only knows what sort of things had mutated in there.

Mutated?

[A knowing smile crosses her face.]

I guess that's something else that hasn't really made it out there, has it. You know your general Zack, right? The moaning, decaying pathetic remnants of a human being. Of course you do. But there were other kinds. They were few and far between, but I'm willing to bet that because there aren't too many carries out there, no one else survived an encounter with them so their stories are virtually unknown.

There's more out there than just your regular Zack. There's….I dunno, stronger ones. I'm sure that they could be scientifically classified if someone started cutting them up, but most are too horrifying to look at. I don't think anyone would have the guts to do it.

Please explain.

I don't know if words could do it justice. There's one that had a tongue or…something. I don't know. But it would stretch for miles and wrap around you, crushing and dragging you away from whatever safety you may have reached. Or at least thought you reached. There was another one that could leap long distances. He'd be able to land right on top of you, crushing your ribs, and just start ripping you apart with his claws. You couldn't move if he was on top of you, someone else would have to be there to knock him off. And if they weren't…well…I've got some lovely scars of too-close experiences. Then there's this fat one, probably people who were obese even in life. Well whatever bodily fluids it was that made them heavy in life they were able to use in death. They'd vomit all over you and it would just cause mass mayhem. God help you if you got it in your eyes. You were blind for at least a good minute or two, which is detrimental if you have Zack on your ass, and like I said, we weren't immune to a lot of things. Friendly fire either. [She smiles sheepishly.] I once clipped Francis' shoulder worse than anything else had in our entire trip. God, I felt like shit. He was pissed at first but then he laid off and was able to joke about it. The scar is still there. It fucked up his tattoos really bad. I don't think he minds, but for me it's a good reminder of what not being careful can do for you.

Anyway, then there's the big guys. We called them Tanks because they were that hard to take down. If you didn't have others gunning at that thing with you, you were a dead man. The thing could pick up cars! Whole cars and chuck them at you as if they were nothing. I'd seen them rip full slabs of concrete right off of a paved street. And shit man, when he charges? Well, God help you. The worst were the female ones. They didn't do anything to you if you left them alone, but if you accidentally tripped over her or shone a flashlight at her…shit.

Louis did it once. It was an accident. She'd literally been right next to one of those CEDA safe room doors, you know? Of course, you don't know their stories. She may have just gotten there only to turn right outside of it. The only way you know one's there is because of her crying.

Crying?

Yeah. They cry.

Anyway, one hit from her and you were out for days, and again that was if someone got to you in time. We watched her rip apart someone once in just a matter of seconds. There wasn't anything we could do, but it's still horrible to watch.

Funny thing is, people don't really believe that. Maybe you run into more of them on foot than you do in a humvee or what have you, but everyone we've shared these stories with thinks we're just making this crap up. However you have plenty of those blue zones down south that talk about those ugly-ass Spitter Zack and Jockey Zack and no one has trouble believing that. Wait until the first "legit" group runs into a tank or a witch and the mass slaughterhouse that will be. Then you'll have a partial understanding of what we lived day to day. I just thank God that we didn't run into something new down here.

So what now for this place?

[Shrugs.] Who knows? Maybe we can build this place up again? Its Zack free and people need to start vacationing again, right? Maybe we can hire on some people, open up one or two of the smaller resorts and have this economy booming. We're in the works for something for that right now. Louis is our finance guy. We're letting him sort it all out. The world is finally starting to get back into its old swing it seems. The zombies aren't completely gone. We still have the ones that wash up on shore from time to time, but these days people know how to be careful. Issues like that aren't even primary concerns anymore, and so many of those underwater herds are tagged that they'd pop up on our tower radar screens well enough in advance to have us prepare for a potential onslaught. It's too bad the whales are extinct. I've never been on a whale watch. We could have made a killing with those.

[I thank her for her time and start to get up. She rises and walks me to the door.]

Maybe one day we'll head back to the mainland for a little bit. I doubt any of us would stay. We like it too much here. But we do have some thanks to offer to a man over in Savannah so eventually we'll probably catch our old sailboat and journey over for old time's sake. [She shakes my hand and smiles, a sudden fire has come to her eyes. She reaches into her back pocket and pulls out a carton of pre-war Romero brand cigarettes. She puts one in her mouth and lights it.] If you're ever there, at the corner of Ashland and Main, near that bridge is a shoddy little wooden cross. At least I hope it's still there. We couldn't bury him, of course, because Zack would have just dug him up and ripped him apart. We had to burn him, but that's the spot where he died. If you're ever in Savannah, tell Bill Overbeck hello for us.