Pairings: I may pair characters later in the story, but not for the first chapter (sorry guys!)

Warnings: This story will contain coarse language as well as references of violence not suitable for younger readers. Adult themes may be present.

Disclaimer: I do not own Left 4 Dead nor any of the characters. My story does not follow the game's storyline (Well, for those who are familiar with the "Sacrifice" campaign)

Greetings! This is the VERY first fan fiction I have ever written in my life! Feel free to comment and review my story (any try to be nice, please? c:) If enough people like this, I will post more in the future!

Hints: Just to make sure, italicized words are just words that are emphasized when a character is speaking. Italicized phrases are the thoughts of characters. Well anyhoo...

I hope you guys enjoy a long journey with me into this story, and of course, ENJOY!

Chapter 1

The Sacrifice

Sweat dripped down his forehead, exhaustion evident in his ragged breaths. The former soldier looked as a tidal wave of infected rushed towards him. Each having the same ravenous look as they rushed towards to what they hoped to be a feast. And yet none of that mattered to him.

Bill Overbeck glanced a look at the close, yet strangely distant bridge where his comrades were on. Just like birds, when you can only see them as specks in the sk-

ROARRRRRRRRRR!

A loud roar snapped Bill back from his thoughts as he remembered what he was here to do. His final mission, or rather, his final act as the leader of his small ragtag group of family.

He was running low on ammo. Bill knew it, and so it also seemed that the infected knew it too as they continued to pour from every opening on the streets towards the old man. Bill clenched his teeth as he concentrated on clearing down a path with his trusted assault rifle, the same one he had used in the unforgiving jungles of Vietnam.

It was a suicide mission. To run into the largest horde they had ever seen since their journey was certain to yield nothing but death.

Bill grunted in pain as he endured numerous cuts and scratches coming from the sharp nails of the infected. A Tank had fallen from a shower of bullets, but there were still two more left, screaming for fresh blood.

Dam it. Why did it have to go down like this?

Their plan was perfect. They found a boat filled with supplies. All they had to do was make the bridge go up, so they could escape the hell they were in. And yet, as if making a mockery out of them, the rusty and old generator blew out on them. With the bridge stuck half way from being fully raised, the colossal sound coming from it lured every single infected in a fifty mile radius. Worse was it when three tanks stormed into the fray, each roaring for blood as they charged towards the group of survivors.

Knowing that they only had moments. The veteran jumped off the bridge, much to the alarm and shock of his comrades. The young former-college girl tried to chase after the old man, but was held back by the strong arms of the heavily tattooed biker.

"LET ME GO! LET ME GO!" The girl had yelled at the biker trying to shake out of his iron clutch, tears springing from her eyes and yet the biker only looked grimly at her, his hands still gripping her arms tightly as she bit back her sobs.

"The only thing we can do for him is watch his back."

This was the biker's reply as he let go of her arms and walked towards the edge of the bridge in a prepared stance with his shotgun ready, almost as if this was the final showdown between them and the horrors that had ruined their lives. The horrors that used to be fellow humans, used to breathe the same air, used to have warm blood flowing in their body, used to be everything they were.

Infected. This was the word that had lived and stuck in the minds and dreams of the four survivors every since all hell had broke loose as the disease spread across the country. Each losing a piece of themselves as they watched their world crash down around them.

Zoey losing both of her parents in front of her, one of which she had no choice but to end their life. Or so she had thought before the horrifying truth presented itself to her in the prison room of the military base as the doctor told her the Carrier gene ran in the father's side.

Francis losing the life he had of plundering for his survival. The biker had said that this was the best thing that had happened to him. And yet he too had lost both his buddies and girlfriend to the infection. Perhaps his unending jumble of jokes and fierce joy in violence was only a cover-up for the feelings the biker had buried deep within himself.

Louis losing everything he had known in life. Having wanting to lose it all, he never realized just how painful his wish was when it was granted. Washing away his home, his possessions, his I.T job, everything was erased in an instant as the dead began to rise up and proceed to erase all living life in their reach.

Bill, in any sense, probably had nothing to lose as he had nothing left but his memories. His life consisted of drinking beer, wasting away on his couch as he did odd jobs left and right for no particular reason. And yet he had risen up, determined to live out the infection, refusing to die when he had already outlived two tours in Vietnam. Abandoning everything but his old army clothes, old assault rifle, and his last packs of cigarettes as he turned and faced his last war. The war to survive this hell-hole.

Each and every one of the four survivors had lost everything. And yet in each other they found one simple thing.

Family.

Having survived so many trials and hardships, the group overcame their differences and entrusted each other with their lives, knowing that they had each other's backs no matter what.

This was the trust that Bill put everything in as he rushed towards the old generator, knowing full well that his group would do everything in their power to cover his back, allowing him to focus only on the one thing that mattered to him above everything else. Above his every own life.

Getting them to safety.

Blood splattered all over the streets as Bill tried his best to reach the button. His group doing everything they could do from their vantage point. Zoey accurately blowing heads off with her signature dual-pistols as she shouted encouragement to the others. Francis furiously shooting any infected his shotgun could manage from its limited reach. Louis frowning in concentration as he tried to focus on clearing Bill's path while ignoring the injury he had sustained on his leg when he had tried to go down into a building filled with witches.

Almost there! The machine reaching Bill's sight as he ran towards it. Just press the button and get back to the bridge!

It was a gruesome, yet spectacular sight, with a lone man running towards a rusty old generator. To his right, a horde of unimaginable numbers of infected, snarling and screaming as they ran towards him, each hoping to feast on his live flesh. To his left, cage and wiring blocked any chance of running towards that side. From behind, a blazing fury of lights and unending rain of bullets launching towards the huge mass of infected.

I can make it back, I can make it back to her. I just need to press this butto-

A massive fist appeared out of nowhere. Hitting Bill in his ribs with all the force of a speeding car, knocking him feet into the air and landing painfully on the cold, trembling concrete floor. Blood poured from his mouth as he coughed on the ground. His body refusing to move as he tried to get up.

MOVE DAM IT! MOVE!

With every ounce of his strength in his old and frail body, Bill slowly crawled towards the generator as the two remaining Tanks rushed at him, screaming in fury as they were delayed by the hail of bullets on their arms and face as the others tried to distract them away from Bill.

"BILL! NO BILLL!" screamed Zoey as she wildly fired at the Tanks closing around Bill, her tears flowing down her cheeks without restraint.

Don't die on me, old man! Not when we're so close to being safe!

The button was still in reach. Just a feet away from Bill.

I can still make it, thought Bill as he continued to crawl his way towards the button, his muscles screaming in agony as he forced them to move.

I HAVE to make it.

The Tank closest to him roared as it rubbed the wounds from Zoey's pistols. No matter how many times Bill saw a Tank, it was the same. A monstrosity made up of too much muscle and skin too tough for bullets to pierce. A living tank, if one were to ever describe it.

Shit, thought Bill, I have to distract them to get to the button...what can I...AHA! Noticing the dusty Molotov next to him, he threw the bottle with as much strength as he could muster. With the contents spewed all over the creatures face, Bill ignited it. The monster screamed in agony and rage as it tried to paw down the flames, which made it worse as it spread quickly to its arms and torso.

"Die...you son..of..a bitch..." coughed Bill, as the Tank roared one last agonized time, and fell down. Flames continuing to burn and consume the dead body.

There was a strange ringing in Bill's ears, perhaps it was an omen that he was about to die, or perhaps it was due to too much blood loss. At any rate, Bill looked up to the button and used his remaining strength to barely push the button. Glancing back to the bridge, it was going up again. Yet his comrades weren't cheering, rather they continued to shoot at the last and final tank just feet away from Bill.

I guess this is as far as I go... thought Bill, as he crawled into the generator's room, a trail of blood following him.

One last smoke before I go down, chuckled Bill as he remembered the time when Zoey told him that smoking would kill him. "Dying of smoking is the least of my concerns, as long as I take down those bastards with me along the way." Bill had said to the disgruntled college girl as he puffed his cigarette in front of her.

Bill took out his pack of cigarettes and peered inside. One left. He reached for it in a fog of pain and slowly pulled it out. Taking out his rusting and old lighter, he lit the cigarette and waited for his final moments as the Tank smashed into the entrance of the room.

"Come at me, you bastard," said Bill as he gave a bloody grin to the final Tank as it leered at him with murderous eyes.

This was it. His rifle had no more ammo, no more weapons to be found around him, and Bill had no more strength to even lift his head. Bill prepared himself as he knew what would come next.

It was as if time slowed down. Bill saw the massive fist slowly being aimed at his head through his half closed eyes. A smile on his features.

I'm sorry, Zoey. I guess this is the end of the stop for me.

The gigantic fist slowly descended closer and closer towards Bill. The yells and screams of his comrades fading from the background as Bill saw his death in front of him.

And yet even though he knew it was all over, he thought of the times they spent together. Laughing, crying, yelling, raging. The best times of his life, spent with his family, Zoey, Louis, and Francis. Zoey always talking about some zombie flick, Francis poking fun at Louis, and Louis retaliating with his own jokes and puns. Perhaps those times didn't mean anything to the others, as Bill never asked, but it meant everything to him, despite him never showing them his feelings.

"Goodbye." came the final word from the veteran's as he closed his eyes, waiting for the end.

BEEEP! BEEEP! BEEEEEEP!

Bill snapped his eyes open at the familiar sound. The fist, just a second away from smashing his head open stopped, as if the Tank was immobilized.

Is that..is that a pipe bomb?!

The tank roared and lumbered off towards the new sound, attracted towards it, as all infected were. Bill couldn't move, he had no strength left. He could only flinch when there was a sudden explosion outside the room, blood and sinew flying everywhere.

Who could that be?! There's no way it could have been the others... Bill thought as he tried to move, to no avail.

A piercing silence filled his ears. The horde seemed to have been cleared by the pipe bomb that was thrown by someone...or something.

Soft footsteps were heard as something began to move closer and closer towards Bill.

Who?...What could it be? thought Bill frantically as he remembered that he had no weapons and could barely even keep his eyes open as he stared towards the blinding light that was shining into the room.

-crunch- -crunch-

The footsteps getting closer and closer...and then a voice rang out-

"Jeez, you guys are stupid. Musta pulled every goddam zombie in a fifty mile radius to you. Good thing the racket from the bridge let me know where you were."

That voice...that voice...NO WAY!

"Your still alive?" Bill managed to spit out, shock piercing through his entire body as he recognized the voice.

"Now is that a way to greet an old friend who saved your sorry ass?" came the voice again..

"Be..Benny?!" said Bill as he opened his mouth in sheer shock, the lit cigarette falling from his mouth as he saw the stranger appearing in the doorway, grinning at the old veteran whose eyes were as round as saucers.