I was going to write more of Fable of Death, but I am stuck in serious Writers Block mode for that story.
Okay, I want to thank everyone who reviewed the final chapter of Minion. Due to popular request, the sequel will be out very soon. It'll most likely be the next story I will put up. Also, I only expected maybe three reviews. Nope! I got seven. Which I will reply to by PM. And if you're a guest, just know that I am grateful that you got the chance to read my story. :)
So, this is that zombie apocalyptic story I was talking about. I need to say, since I am not putting this as a crossover for certain reasons, that the original 7 survivors who will appear in future chapters are not my characters. Neither is the plot line. The original 7 survivors plus another survivor belong to Valve. The game is called Left 4 Dead and Left 4 Dead 2 if you want to check it out. It's been a couple years since the last release of the game, so you can get it for about $20 or less. That's about the price I got both of them.
Left 4 Dead is a post-apocalyptic game. You play as one of four survivors and you must go through location after location (Pennsylvania in L4D 1, New Orleans in L4D 2 ) in order to get rescued by CEDA, a government based company. The zombie virus, also known as the Infection, can spread through get a cut by an infected person, or getting bitten. Changing into the actual zombie can take up to 5 minutes or days.
This story is set before the whole Maskmaker Incident and before Natara shot Shawn. Throughout the story, certain kinds of zombies will appear. They include Smokers, Hunters, Boomers, Witches, Wandering Witches, Spitters, Jockeys, and Chargers, possibly including Valve's original idea of a psychotic zombie labeled a Screamer, and my creation of a zombie labeled the Clawer.
This story is told by Natara's P.O.V and when it isn't, it's just Third Person.
This is just the introduction, so tell me what you think. Be honest! If you don't think it's something you're interested in, tell me.
Thank you for reading and I hope you like it!
My name is Natara Williams and I am a Carrier.
The Zombie Apocalypse. Some would agree that it's complete nonsense. Others would beg to differ and express their opinions on the matter. Being of intense intellect, I choose to abandon the thought.
Of course, that was a mistake to begin with.
I was fighting alongside three complete strangers who dedicated their lives to mine. It might have been the fact that I was newly engaged, or that I was the only girl on the ragtag team. However, the men never failed to jump in front of a potential threat, shielding me from harm.
I used to be an FBI Profiler. I had the life I wanted; I was about to marry my long term boyfriend, Shawn Mallory, and I was starting to get on better terms with my parents.
All of this changed when the apocalypse was announced.
Three weeks after the first Infection-that's what they're calling it- Word got loose that where I was currently stationed, Miami Florida, that the virus had broken out. A short news broadcast revealed that there were at least eight known survivors who were recruiting others and fighting their way across the streets, making their way to the west. Unfortunately, they skipped Florida.
My family had decided to take a trip to India to meet with family and discuss the whole situation. I was invited to tag along, but I didn't want Shawn to stay and have to battle without me.
A week before I arrived in San Francisco, Shawn took me out to dinner, despite the warnings. There, he proposed to me. Excited and thrilled, I accepted, completely ignoring a new customer that had strolled in. We were in the middle of a hug when a piercing scream rang out and a sharp tear whipped through the room. A young girl lay limp at some man's feet. His mouth was covered in her blood, and his skin was a sickly green. He shrieked out in rage and began his rampage.
Shawn, who pushed me aside, pulled out his firearm and began shooting at the insane man.
There's one thing about a zombie that I thought wasn't possible; they're incredibly fast.
The infected man tackled Shawn to the ground, where they wrestled. I heard Shawn cry out as the zombie's nails grazed his cheek. Shawn was finally able to shoot the thing off before nursing his wound. The restaurant was in panic as people fled into the empty streets, where they met even more bood-thirsty beasts.
I ran over to aid Shawn, but he waved me off. "No," he shouted. "Don't come close."
"Shawn," I begged.
"Natara...I don't want you to become infected. Go, get out of Miami while you still can!"
"Shawn!"
"Go!"
I couldn't argue with him. I gave him a sad nod and rushed out of the restaurant. I un-holstered my own pistol and made my way to the car.
I decided to head to San Francisco right then and there. I doubted that the infection had reached there. I was wrong...Very wrong.
My first impression of San Francisco was, 'This place is a ghost-town. Where is everyone?'
Houses were boarded up and signs were plastered everywhere with CEDA instructions. CEDA was the company handling this whole fiasco.
I found myself a hotel and checked in quickly. I had to go through a cleaning process that I much rather not describe. I locked myself in my temporary room and cried for the first time since Shawn was attacked. Sure, I had cried on the car ride, but I had finally let everything out. I texted Shawn until my battery died. He responded for the first two days, telling me that the cut left by the zombie was not getting better. He also reported that he was one of the few humans left in Miami and that he knew it wouldn't last that long. The last text he sent me read,
"I can feel it coming, Nat. I'm going to be one of them. Please, please know that I love you with all of my heart. And as a last request, please keep the ring on. I love you, Natara Williams."
And that was the last I heard of him.
I spent a week in isolation, ordering room service and watching news reports.
More and more of San Francisco was going under siege of this horrific virus and soon, the hotel went out of business and I was trapped.
From time to time, I would peek out the window and watch zombie brawls and survivors fight them off. I kept my lights off at all times, because I heard soft moans outside the hallway, signifying the horrible result of zombies.
My life really sucked at this point and I didn't care whether I lived or died. It got to the stage where I just sat, curled in a ball, waiting anxiously for the infection to hit.
It never did.
Even when I exposed myself to the dirty air outside or turned my lights on, nothing bothered me. Nothing happened.
Until two nights ago.
I was weak, starving, surviving only off the tap water the bathroom sink provided. I watched the television display another news broadcast about the original eight survivors and how only seven remained. They went through the normal safety protocol and blackness. I was surprised that the news castors managed to survive this long.
Around noon, I walked around the hotel, fiddling with my gun. I unlocked my door earlier that week and left my window open. Zombies still resided on the streets below, but no longer in the hotel. I slowly opened the door and looked down the hallway. My stomach lurched. Blood was splattered across the wall and severed body parts were scattered everywhere. One thing I had learned about these zombies; they were violent and would kill anything that crossed their way or looked at them funny, even if it was their own kind. I was about to close the door when I heard the elevator at the end of the hall chime.
Out stepped three men, two having a strong build, and one being lanky. They held guns in their hands and all sorts of equipment was placed in different areas. These guys would soon be my saviors.
"Kai," one commanded. He had brown hair that was messy from days of unrest. Piercing blue eyes scanned the bloody halls, skipping over me. He only wore a white dress shirt that had blood splatters almost everywhere. He looked like he could be a lawyer with his fancy attire. "You check all of the rooms on the right side and I'll check the left."
"Aye, aye Captain!" the lanky man said, saluting the blue-eyed man. His hair was longer than most men would have it. Small glasses were perched on his nose, shielding his brown eyes. He wore a torn Hawaiian shirt with khaki pants. He looked like your typical nerd.
"Whatever you say, Fallon," the other strong built man said, smiling slightly. His skin was darker than the others, and he looked a lot tougher too. He was bald, but had a dark goatee. He was wearing a torn, long-sleeved, black, button-up shirt and some dark jeans.
The men went on searching, until they reached my room. By now, I was grabbing all of my supplies and getting ready to head out. If these guys survived this long, they were definitely a team to be with.
The nerd was the one who found me.
"Whoa!" he called, "Look! It's a chick!"
I turned around at this sudden call, and jumped when the rest of the men joined him. The blue-eyed leader smiled when he saw me. Unlike them, I was showered and nicely dressed.
"You don't look infected," the blue-eyed leader said. "In fact...You look perfectly fine...And clean!"
"How long have you been on the streets, kid?" the dark skinned man asked. He examined me as he asked his question.
"Do you have a boyfriend?" the lanky man asked, smiling like a madman.
"Um..." I began. "A few weeks, and I am...Was engaged."
"Zombie?" the lanky man asked and I nodded. "Bummer. Well, if you ever need some help finding love again, Kai Kalaba is the name you need to know. I'm here for you, Baby."
The leader slapped Kai upside the head and I smiled slightly. He turned to me and shook his head. "Sorry. We found him lying in a dumpster and we're almost positive he's been dropped on his head...A lot, when he was a baby."
"That's fine," I said and held out my hand to the leader. "My name is Natara. And you?"
"Mal," the leader said, gripping my hand. "Mal Fallon. And this is my friend, Ken Greene."
"Nice to meet you," Ken said, also shaking my hand. "And I'm not just saying that to be nice. It's been awhile since we've been among the living."
"Do you guys all know each other?" I asked and Mal shook his head.
"Ken and I do, but like I said, we just found Kai. Ken and I used to work at the San Francisco Police Department."
"Funny," Kai began, "I sent an application there months ago and they still haven't responded."
"Oh really?" Ken asked, rolling his eyes. "I wonder why." He shook his head and nodded towards me. "You have a job, Ms. Williams?"
"Actually," I said, "I was an FBI Profiler. My boyfriend also worked at the FBI...Until the apocalypse of course."
"We're sorry about that," Mal said, "I bet he was a great man."
I nodded. "Yeah...Great..."
"Anyway," Ken began, "I know we just met you and all...But would you like to join us?"
"Dude, she already packed her bags," Kai said. "Heh, she doesn't know anything about zombie fighting, does she?"
"What do I not know?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Well, for starters," Mal began, "you have to give up everything. The only things you'll be needed from here on out is a gun, some Pain Pills, a First-Aid Kit, and either a pipe bomb or a Molotov. Clothes don't matter...Make-up does not matter...Phones...Well, phones are alright. Just make sure you don't use them until you get into a Safe House."
"What's a Safe-House?" I asked and Ken chuckled.
"You have a lot to learn, my friend."
And this is how I started to fight zombies.