A Part of the Pack
A Left 4 Dead Fanfiction
Thursday, 22 October 2009

Chapter 1

Things had changed, lately.

I used watch the people. Some would stop, talk to me or give me food. Those were the good ones, the ones I would let touch me. To be fair, it felt good, to let them run their hands down my back, and it made them happy. It was when they were happy that they gave out the best stuff.

Some times they would try to take me with them. I'd seen others like me with them, and they seemed happy enough, but they always took orders, always seemed to be stuck with them. That made me uneasy enough. To be honest, I liked their food, but I didn't trust any of them. The second they tried to put anything on me or grab me, I bolted.

I've got good reason to. There were the bad ones, too. The ones that would yell, or throw things. Sometimes they'd try to kick, but they were always so slow. There were ones that would chase me, and when I ran too fast, they'd get in their machines— their cars— and follow that way. One man had a long pole with rope at the end— I thought he was just trying to hit me. I tried to grab the pole. I didn't realize what he was doing until it was around my neck.

I was trapped! I fought as hard as I could to get loose and to keep him from grabbing me with his hands. He was trying to calm me down— soft words like the ones other people would try to tell me. I wasn't buying it.

When he tried to grab my mouth, I bit him on instinct. He yelled and dropped the pole, and before I even felt the thud through the metal, I had bolted. He sprung after me, but lashing my head around and squirming my shoulders got the thing off— it couldn't stay tight when he wasn't holding it.

I got away that time. There were others, in their cars and with poles. Now that I knew what they were trying to do, I never let them near me, though I would still watch from a distance. Wasn't enough. One time, one of them held up something weird, like a long stick— and something flew right at me, like the garbage other people would throw but way faster. I jumped and the thing missed, but it was enough to make me run. Thinking about it later, I remembered how much the rocks hurt when I didn't dodge, and decided that I didn't want to be hit by whatever they were throwing at me with that thing. So I started paying attention, and got to recognize their clothes. When they would come, I wouldn't stick around anymore— I just hid.

Not all people were like that. But I never knew. There was no real way to tell which ones would like me and which ones would yell. Besides, if some of them had those… super-throwers… others could too, I bet. I learned to be careful around them. If they didn't have food, well… I was happy to just watch.

But then… like I said, things started to change.

People were afraid. I knew what that smelled like, but there were so many. It was just a few days, where everything went from being normal, to being nuts. There weren't as many people on the streets, and lots of them had things on their mouths. They were hurried, rushing, and they were scared. I had no idea what they were so scared about. The whole thing was just weird.

Then there were hardly any people at all. Their machines all seemed dead— only a few of them were even moving. The ones that did had people that were all dressed in the same clothes, but looking very strange. Some of them were spraying things, all over buildings and the ground. Others were putting up sheets of white cloth, or paper, I guess, over doors and windows. There were smaller pieces of paper that they would stick to buildings.

Even more were going around, grabbing random things off the street and stuffing them into bags, and dumping out different bags with little green things all over the ground. When the people had gone from one area, I crept out and sniffed at some— and then snorted, shaking my head. Poison. I'd find rats and other small animals dead from it. I'd licked some once and had spent the night gagging. I'd learned to leave the stuff alone since then.

There was an awful lot of it, though. Usually they only put it in alleys and under dumpsters and places like that. What was going on?

They were emptying the dumpsters and garbage cans too. That was starting to bother me, because that was where I usually ate. Sometimes I could catch little animals, but I'd learned that in certain places, they tasted like the poison and made me just as sick. And now they were dropping those little green bits everywhere… more poison, less food.

I wasn't hiding as much. It was getting harder and harder to find anything to eat. Even harder was finding water— usually there was plenty in the gutters, but since they'd started spraying everything, it tasted funny, and after the poison, I didn't want to take my chances.

One day I started to hear the cracks of thunder.

So now I know that it wasn't really thunder, but it was the only thing I could think of at the time that was so loud or intense. The only difference was that these cracks were short and fast. And then I heard a cry I'd never heard before. It sounded like someone was pulling the tail off a cat. That was my best guess, at least— never managed to catch one and find out.

I think they finally started to notice me at that point. One of the people in the bright white clothes must have seen me in the front of the alley. There were other people, ones dressed like him, and ones wearing a darker color. The one in white said something, and a dark one came to stand by him.

I looked them over. My hackles started to rise. The thing the dark one was holding looked really familiar. He lifted it and pointed it at me— my heart jumped in my chest.

I had already twisted around and leapt for the safety of the alleyway. There was another crack— that thunder— and I felt gravel pelting my back legs. That just made me run faster.

I think one of them yelled something, but my ears were still ringing from that noise. Argh, it had been so close! That didn't stop me from hearing the second one, or the third one, but by then I had scrambled around a corner and dove under the loose corner of a fence.

I didn't come out again that night.

By the next morning, though, I couldn't ignore my empty stomach. Even with all of the world going mad, I hadn't eaten in a couple days.

There were sounds out there that made me want to stay right where I was, though— to curl up and hide away. More of those cracks. The sounds of the machines they rode in— seemed the only people using those were the ones that had attacked me. And then there were those unnatural cries. By the time I worked my way out to the street, I had heard a few. For some reason, they made all of my fur stand on end.

I had only made it down one block— no luck— and then I heard people talking. Yelling. I tensed up. The last people had tried to hurt me, and they were the only people out here anymore.

But what if they had already seen me? I needed to know where they were, where to run. So I slunk out around the corner, sticking close to a car that had been left on the curb.

They didn't see me— they weren't even looking in my direction. In fact, the humans were yelling at each other.

There were a lot of the people with dark clothes and the things that made me growl, even though I was trying to stay hidden. They didn't notice, though; they were all pointed at one other person who was standing in an open door.

In fact, that person wasn't just yelling, they were screaming. They were bleeding too, and fighting… fighting to get past the others.

I never really understood what they said, but I understood what was happening well enough. The man was trapped, and they were the ones holding him. One of them raised their voice, shoving the man back.

"You've been warned— if you try to break quarantine, I am going to shoot you!"

"You can't make me stay here!!"

Whatever they were yelling now, I saw the signs of someone about to attack. Still I crouched in my hiding spot. I didn't want them to attack me.

But the other one was desperate, panicked. I growled louder; he flung himself at them.

There was a flash and a bang; I flinched and flung myself closer to the ground. When I opened my eyes, I saw the one man stagger, then fall. Blood was coming from his mouth and his stomach. The dark ones pushed him away, muttering and making sounds that I recognized. It usually meant they were mad, and with all the weird stuff people had been doing lately, no way I was gonna risk it.

I was ready to run right then, before they saw me— a screech from inside the building startled me, and all of a sudden, I forgot about running.

Another person ran out of the door— but this wasn't like any person I'd ever seen.

You know, some of my kind would get sick… especially the ones that didn't live with people. They would snap and bite, and attack anything they saw. They were crazy, and that was the first thing I thought of when I saw him— it— throw itself at the closest person.

Suddenly, they were the ones panicking and shouting— someone tried to use one of those sticks and someone else screamed. The noise and the commotion made me start, jumping up— they didn't even notice.

I made a break for it, darting for the first spot that I saw: one of their big, long machines, sitting on the other side of the road. I scrambled under the box-like back end, the sound of screeching and screaming driving me back as far as I could.

Somewhere between a pair of tires, there was one last thunder-sound and the screaming stopped. I froze, hunching up as small as I could. Twisting my neck back around, I eyed the group of them.

There were more dead. I couldn't see from where I was, but I could hear more talking, more fear. And they were angry. I wanted so badly to run then but if they saw me, it was a safe bet they'd kill me too. After that, they wouldn't even think about it.

They picked up one of the dead ones— one wearing the same clothes— and put him on the back of their big car. They were all holding up those stick things, pointing them around and yelling to one another. It didn't take long before they were all on the machine and moving away, only the dull roar of the machine left behind.

I didn't move for a long time. No one else came. I slowly crept out, circling the area. I sniffed at the air and listened hard, but the only sounds were distant. Eventually, I worked my way back to the door.

There were two bodies. One was the man who they had trapped. I poked at him, the smell of blood filling my nose. It wasn't just from his mouth or his middle, I realized. There were scratches and bites on his arms and face. Flies were already starting to congregate, and I shook my head as they started to buzz into my eyes and ears.

I left the bloody one alone, and checked the other corpse. The crazy person. It smelled… wrong.

There was a burnt smell, and blood; there were more rips in this one. But there wasn't as much blood, and it had a funny scent. In fact, the whole thing smelled strange— like death, and sickness, but that didn't make sense. It had been moving, it had been alive— I saw that. It shouldn't have rotted so quickly.

I'd only ever seen a few dead people before. I'd never been close to one. The first one looked like most people, except for the wounds. This one… it looked like it had died days ago. At least, that's what I guessed. It didn't make sense. Nothing was making much sense at this point.

The second body was starting to make me feel uneasy, so I backed away from it; I could still taste it on the air. The thing was just wrong.

My stomach was still empty, though, and it reminded me by lurching. I glanced behind me.

Even with the flies, the first body was still in good condition. True, I'd never eaten a person before— never really crossed my mind— but it was dead and I'd eaten dead things before. It wasn't like it was doing much good lying there.

One turned ear confirmed that there were no people around, and that settled it. I nosed at the corpse, testing the flesh.

That night, I slept in an alley close by, stomach full but protesting. I hadn't eaten a whole lot recently, and the amount and freshness of the food was making it turn a little. That just made me all the more content to curl up behind an old couch and sleep.

I didn't want to move too far away— there had been so little food lately. But then, the scent was going to attract others. Most I could fight off. I'm bigger than any cat or opossum, and most of my own kind. With my rumbling stomach, though, I didn't feel like fighting. Plus, there was always the chance of someone bigger, or even a person seeing me. Or one of those crazy people. So I settled a street or so over, resolving to go back when I woke up.

By that time, it was dark. There used to be lights that made it easier to see, but like everything else, those seemed to be gone. It was okay, though, I could still see pretty well. With my ears and my nose telling me the coast was clear, I wasn't too worried at all.

I made it back to the bodies, only to find that both had been torn at, most of their flesh gone. The smell from the sick one was even worse, though, and I snorted, then sneezed. I checked the clean body, trying to see if there was anything left, but the smell of the other one was making me lose my appetite.

Grunting, I left the bodies alone, annoyed. What would have eaten the other one anyways? The thing was disgusting.

I paused, and looked up at the door. It was still open.

My annoyance disappeared, replaced by curiosity. I had been in buildings before, but they were usually dirty, and the only people that lived in them smelled like this sharp, watery stuff that didn't taste very good. As I poked my head inside, I saw that this one was clean… mostly.

It smelled funny, like the things the white suits were spraying. There was also the tang of blood soaked into the ground. The ground made me curious as well— it was soft, like grass, but funny colored. I went ahead and marked it, if only to cover up the reek of whatever it was they had left in this place.

As I moved further into the building, though, it started to smell more like sickness— like the one who had rushed out and attacked the other people.

It also smelled like food. Turning the corner landed me in a treasure trove— there was food everywhere! I hardly noticed the body in the corner, as I began picking at the bits— they tasted sweet, too sweet for me, but it was too good for me to care at that point. I was starting to get used to the smell, so the dead one didn't even bother me that much.

Of course, I'd eaten earlier, so when I finished, there was still quite a bit left. All the same, I poked around, nosing open cabinets and scratching at boxes that I could reach. Many of them had things I couldn't eat, but some had more good things, and I decided that I wanted to stay here for a while.

Wandering around the place, I happened into a small, white room. There was a chair-looking thing that I was sure I'd seen before, only a lot smellier. There was also a big hole on one side with a raised wall and some kind've sheet in front of it. The smell coming from it was interesting, but even more interesting was the chair— water. I could smell water!

I'd managed to find some here and there, and my earlier meal had helped with the thirst, but it had been a while since I'd been able to drink all I wanted. If I could smell it, then should have been plenty.

I pawed at the chair, but that didn't do anything. I shoved at it with my nose, only to see the top of it move some. Yes!

My nose might have gotten raw and scraped, but I finally managed to shove it under the edge and flip that part up— and I was right, there was water! Real, clean water. I drank it up as greedily as I could.

A sound made me jerk my head up, water and drool running down my face in equal amounts. The noise hadn't been too close, but it sounded like it was near the building. I walked out, moving slowly but looking for the source. I only stopped to empty my bladder some; after all, this place was mine now.

As I made it closer to the entrance, I realized I was right, the sound wasn't inside. Instead, it sounded like it was just past the door. I lowered myself to my belly, ears flattened, and crawled forward.

There were people out there, pulling at the bodies. Chewing on them. They were eating the flesh.

The sickly smell hit me with full force. They were just like the crazy person— they smelled sick… smelled like death.

I dashed back into the building, anything to get away from them. One of them must have seen, because it let out a noise and then started to chase after me. I made it to the room with the food where I slid across the floor, slick with blood and drool. The thing was right behind me, and it threw itself at me like no person had ever done before.

I bit at its face, snarling and thrashing around. It was trying to claw at me and bite me, but I wasn't giving it the chance. I lunged at its arm and my teeth tore through the skin like it was nothing. I didn't stop to care— I shoved past the thing and darted for the exit.

More of them were coming inside, attracted by the noise. They came after me too. I attacked them right back, but still felt pain in my side as one of them hit me, then on my back as one tried to bite me.

I'd never seen a person bite, and honestly? It was nothing compared to a bite from one like me. I think it got more fur than anything, but I was scared, and shoved and snapped until there was enough space for me to get away.

Once I was through the door, I ran, and didn't stop running for a long time. I think I heard some other cries, like the ones they had made, but didn't look.

Finally, panting and exhausted, I huddled up under a thick bush that hadn't been trimmed in a while. The sick smell was here too, like it was following me— there were some dead, but none of them moved or tried to attack me. That was gonna have to do for now.

Things just got worse from there. When I woke up, I saw more of the sick people. I found out that I could creep past them, though. They couldn't smell me, and if I was quiet, they didn't notice me at all. They weren't really doing anything, but I wasn't taking any more chances.

For the next few days, that was the normal way of things. I was slowly getting used to it, though it made it that much harder to find food and water. I continued to wander, choosing to do so when it was dark. People never noticed me as much at night as they did in the day— luckily, these ones didn't seem any more alert than regular people. When the sun rose, I'd find a place to hide, well away from any of them.

Two or three times I heard cars, then more of the cracking sounds. There was more yelling. I saw one drive by from under a bench once, but they were too busy attacking the sick people to notice me there.

Another time I heard yelling, I got curious again. I noticed, the sick ones never yelled, or made the normal sounds people made. They made pain-noises, or anger-noises, like any wounded animal might.

There were people with the things, the sticks that threw things really fast, but they weren't wearing the dark clothes. Sick people were all around them, most of them falling over, bleeding. The cracks of those things they were holding kept me from getting closer, though.

There were more sick people now, less normal ones. I'd hear them in the distance, but I left them alone, like I left the sick ones alone. My time was getting pretty routine, actually— days, I'd hide and sleep, nights, I'd wander to find food and water, always somewhere new, always slow and careful. Maybe I didn't understand what was going on, but I was adapting to it.

It still wasn't easy to root out food— the sick ones were doing the same thing, and I didn't want to get into a fight with them again.

So I figured it was my lucky day when I found a pile of trash behind an old, tilting fence. Apparently the people couldn't figure out how to get to it, or didn't want to bother. I eagerly shoved my body into the gap between the fence and the wall, though, wiggling until I forced my way through.

I tore open the bags, pawing through the garbage, every so often finding something tasty. That was when I heard voices again.

I tensed up, before slipping back under the fence. I didn't want to be stuck back there… I wanted to find the people, and make sure I could get around them.

A figure in the alley in front of me made me stop— another sickly one. It had to have wandered it while I'd been eating. There was no getting around it, either.

I waited, still and silent, hoping it would move. The sounds of the voices were getting closer, and louder. Loud enough, in fact, that the sick person even noticed. It looked up, out of the alley, and started to move away. Yes!

I darted for the street when a shrill and earsplitting screech echoed through the area. It startled me, but seemed to draw in the sick ones like flies— more were heading in the same direction, now running. It was the direction I had heard the voices come from.

There was shouting and cracks of thunder, and I bolted once more, searching for cover, dodging a stray person that decided it wanted to chase me instead.

The thing was too clumsy to catch me, though, and I slipped under a car in the middle of the road, darting out from the other side while it still clawed in frustration at the opening, trying to follow after me but too stupid to go around, apparently. I figured I had lost it, then, and slowed a little, searching for a place to hide. I had reached an intersection when I saw movement down one of the side streets— there was a blinking light and whining noise that made my ears hurt. I had barely taken two steps, though, when the thing went off.

And I had thought the cracking sounds were loud— there was a sudden boom and a brilliant flash of light and a shock of air— it made me slip in midstride. I fumbled to stand up again, while the scent of blood and burnt blew towards me. Whatever was happening, I needed to get away.

Something flew by overhead, loud and bright and it only drove me to run more. There were a bunch of boxes stacked up next to a boarded up window on one building— the bottom of the wood was broken and rotted. I jumped up and tore at it as though I were digging.

The people weren't so close anymore, they must have gone another way— but then I could hear screams, both from them, and from the things. There was a high pitched, squealing noise in the background.

And suddenly, the night was nothing but screams.

I frantically ripped at the wood, forcing myself through the hole that formed and ignoring the scrapes and cuts it left down my back. It was almost pitch black and difficult to see, so I just went for the first, smallest, darkest corner I could find and buried myself in it, under the boxes and trash, and waited.

I could hear them, running, screeching. How could I not hear them?

I was terrified.

By the time the noise had all died down, when they were finally all settled, I was still crouched in my hole, waiting for attack, ready to snap in an instant. More of the sick-noises got closer, and louder, and still I didn't move. They didn't realize I was close, and I wasn't about to tell them.

All of a sudden, there were more of the cracks and thunder and screeches. The sick people began to run towards something but fell in a flash of light and blood. My nostrils flared and my fur stood even higher, but I still didn't move.

It was the people, the voices I had heard—

"Clear the room."

"It's clear, already."

"Hold up, I saw something—"

I started as the light shined on me and flashed my teeth with a bark.

"Wait!"

The light was suddenly gone, but I was still blinded. After a few seconds, I began to recognize the shapes of four people— three male, one female I smelled. The female had her hand on—

One of those sticks.

I hunched up even more, pressing myself into a corner, a growl coming up in my throat. The girl might have had her hand on it, but it was the man holding it, and he pointed it more towards me when he heard my threat. That just made me growl more.

They started muttering. "Holy crap."

"It's a dog."

I recognized something they said… it was the word they used for me, for my kind.

The female looked to the male that was holding the stick; "You almost shot it!"

"How was I supposed to know it wasn't a zombie?? Hey, what are you doing?"

The female was crouching down, and I realized that she had one of the sticks as well when she put it on the ground, kneeling. They all had them, even though they weren't pointing them at me now. The growl in my throat deepened, fear lending to anger.

One of them moved up, touching the girl's shoulder. "Zoey, that thing's ready to bite… just leave it alone, kid."

She was holding her hand out to me. I glared at her angrily.

"Seriously, Zo." Another one was talking, but I was focusing on the girl, who had leaned back, and started looking through a bag she was carrying. "It's probably infected."

"Have you heard any reports about the infection crossing into animals?" She looked up at them, then back to me. I still hadn't taken my eyes off of her, though my growling was getting softer. They weren't hurting me… maybe they would just leave.

"Oh yeah. I've been getting news reports on the hour. Haven't you?" The man snorted. "Well I haven't seen any strays runnin' around since this thing started."

"'Course not. First thing they do is kill the animals. Keep 'em from spreading it." They were shifting, looking behind them. Uneasy. It made me even less easy.

The girl reacted, but she wasn't looking at me. "That's horrible!" All the same, I narrowed my eyes, not about to let her sneak up on me.

"That's the reality of the situation, Zoey."

She shook her head, before looking back to me, and leaned forward slowly.

The girl was holding her hand out again, but this time… my growl died. Food. The smell of something edible was impossible to miss. It was just laying there, in her hand. But, I'd had too many bad experiences with people lately to just take it from her. After a few moments, she seemed to realize this, and tossed it.

It landed right in front of me, and I barely sniffed it— bread— before wolfing it down. It was hardly a bite, but it was delicious. I looked at the person, and she smiled, something that meant she was happy.

Happy people have good food, I remembered. That seemed like a long time ago, though.

"Zoey, we don't really have time to be messing around with this dog, you know." Their voices were a little afraid. The fact that they were only a little afraid was weird— why weren't they as scared as I was?

"Hold on— look, he's calming down."

She was holding out another piece of bread, and this time, I carefully crawled up to her, still keeping an eye on the men behind her. None of them moved, so I snatched the food and backed up to swallow it.

I was standing now, but still watching them. Especially her; I wanted to know if she had any more bread.

She did, along with a big smile. This time, though, she held it close to herself. "You gotta' come get it this time. Come on, boy."

One of the men made a noise, one that probably meant he was annoyed, and I stopped, eyeing him. The girl shoved his leg.

"Shut up, Francis!"

I took the opportunity to grab the piece of bread out of her hand, and swallowed it whole.

"Hey!"

"Sneak thief!" Their sudden reactions had me tensing up again, moving back, but one of them was laughing, and the girl soon joined in. They didn't move to hit me, but I was still wary.

The girl held out her hand to me one more time. I stuck my nose into it this time to check, not waiting for her to offer, but there was nothing there. Disappointed, I started to pull back, only to find that her hand had slid under my chin.

I remembered people doing this, before. The easy, gentle scratching moved down my throat, and to my shoulder, and I began to relax. It felt good.

The people seemed pleased, too. The girl, at least. She made a happy sound. The men made grunts.

"Well I guess we just got a new team mate, huh?"

I didn't understand what the girl had said, when she spoke softly into my ear, but it sounded nice. That and the scratch were making me feel quite content to just stand there, with people once again.

a/n: So!

Dunno where this idea came at me from, but I probably got some subconscious influence from 'The CoPilot' by inkblotches (Doctor Who). You should seriously check it out if you're a fan.

Anywho, there are a lot (read: endless) stories that are, essentially, 'OC joins heroes'. Is this basically the same? I guess so. I could very much see this happening, though…

Since we don't see any infected animals in the games, it's plausible that the virus cannot survive in other hosts, or does not affect them the same way. In which case, with the mass evacuations and quarantines, I figure there'd probably be some animals left to wander, assuming they didn't get eaten right away, like pets trapped in yards would likely be.

I think the biggest challenge and most interesting part of this story is forcing myself to not overdo the writing. I'm trying to keep it simple without it being stupid— portraying intelligence but one that doesn't think like we do or always understand what we're doing. What do you guys think? I'm gonna need y'all to help keep me in line for this one.

Well, I'm not entirely sure how this one's gonna play out, though I've got a few ideas for the tagalong, and his insight into his human companions.

Aaand… for those of you asking, 'Okay, great, so where's the next chapter of that Star Wars story we've been waiting on?' Umm… good question… it's about half done?

;P Enjoy!

::DemonicK