This Left 4 Dead fanfiction also contains certain aspects from Max Brooks "The Zombie Apocalypse Survival Guide". The aspect is:
-Name of Disease
-Reference to Event in his book.
-Classes of Outbreak
I take no credit for the above things, but all else is my work.
This Fanfic is a prequel to my recent L4D fanfic: "Close Encounter".
The infection spread like wild fire. The first evidence of an class 4 outbreak (the highest level) was a news report. A farmer and 5 of his farm hands were found slaughtered in a barn. 3 of the farm hands were in a gruesome decomposed condition, found with bullets in their heads. The farmer and the other 2 farm hands were found covered in large lacerations and bite marks. The news described this as a cult killing. I knew different.
I called Garry, Tony and Mary. The 4 people I had called together a few months back. I had prepared for an outbreak after doing huge amounts of research on covered up cases. I knew this outbreak case could be serious. The area I lived in was quite close to the city centre, but rural enough for us to take shelter in a small fort like area we had built. The city was a dangerous place during an infection, considering: Where there are more people, there will be more zombies. The team assembled.
Of course, none of us had ever seen or encountered a zombie, but with all the research we had all done, we knew the living dead walked the earth, and that we would eventually have to prepare for an outbreak. We gathered at the fort, and practiced atacking a group of mannequins using our pellet guns. In the case of an outbreak, we would replace them with the real guns we had gathered.
The news. We were always watching the news. Waiting for something to come up. Then we saw it. The report stated that 4 corpses were found not far from the farm that had been on the news last week. The couldnt really be considered corpses. They were missing both there arms and feet, and also half their torso, along with some of their faces. The pictures were horrifying. I picked up the phone to call Mary. Her phone was busy, calling Tony, whos phone was busy calling Garry, Whos phone was busy calling me. I put the phone down and broke the chain. I waited. The phone rang. Garry.
We met up at my house. Waiting. We stayed in my house for a week, until we saw our first zombie. We regularly patrolled the small area around my, and the other saw someone, who we originally intended to be drunk, wandering down an alley. His clothes were okay, and his skin wasnt a strange color, so we thought nothing much. He kept walking until he hit a wall. Then he turned and walked again. But he was walking slowly, and at a constant pace. He wasnt stumbling either, which would give away his drunkeness. No, he was shambling.
I immediately called the others on my walkie talkie and told them to converge on my position using stealth. We gathered around the entrance to the alley. Tony raised his machete and attempted to approach the man, but I pulled him back. "He may not be infected, he may be drunk. But thats a small chance. But we arent risking it. You may attempt to kill him once we establish that."
"Sir"? I called. His head immediately snapped towards me. I slowly unsheathed my machete. I waited. And waited. And...The Moan. That signature, Horrifying, Psychological Torture that is the moan of a zombie. I sprinted at him, ducked under his arm, and swung my weapon at his head. It fell off.
We wandered around for a while, waiting to see if there was anything else. And there was. There was a strange Gurgling noise. It sounded like someone trying to repeatedly get sick...And then we saw it. A fat, hideously deformed thing running for us. It was faster than the zombies I had done research on. It then did one of the strangest things ive ever seen. It puked. All over Garry. I shot it, and it exploded, spreading puke everywhere. And we heard it. A shouting...Screaming noise. It came from the alley. In front of us, about 40 hideous zombies sprinted at us, climbed fences, jumped over obstacles. This wasnt happening. The years of study I had done. Pointless. Nothing. This outbreak was nothing like I had researched. We shot the infected, which only attempted to attack Garry. They were attracted to the boomer bile.
One Month Later...
The Earth was infested. Every inch was covered in zombies. But there were things out there worse than the "Vanilla Infected" as us survivors called them. Special Infected. There were many types of Special Infected:
Boomers: They attempted to puke on us to attract other infected, and were near suicidal.
Hunters: They could leap huge distances, and their claws can cut you to peices.
Smoker: Their huge tongues were used to entrap survivors and pull them away from their team.
Witch: A terrifying thing. They were ignorant beings. They only attacked when startled. They sat in dark areas crying. But when someone shot at her, or shone a light on her, she attacked. She was incredibly powerful.
Tanks:The strongest of all infected. They could lift cars and throw peices of the ground. They should be avoided.
Spitters: Similair to Boomers, except they spit highly toxic acid.
Jocky: They would jump on your shoulders, and attempt to steer you into danger.
Charger: These were huge, strong infected. They would charge into you, and repeatedly slam you into the ground until death.
The world had changed. In every corner of the world, safe rooms were set up. When travelling from place to place, you would find a safe room. An area infected couldnt enter, and stocked with provisions and weapons. But staying in one for more than a night was deadly, because other infected could find a way in. So all survivors had agreed to stay no more than one night before continuing. Most survivors travelled in groups of four. Survivors from other groups usually communicated with each other by writing on safe room walls.
"Dean look. Theres someone over there. They seem to be fighting the zombies". I looked over at where Mary was pointing. The person looked familiar. But I wasnt waiting to see who it was. I raised my Hunting Rifle and shot each one. I approached the person. It was James, a friend of mine. "James?" I asked. He looked up at me, and stared. I heard a faint shout from behind me, but couldnt make it out. "James"? I asked again. The shout got louder. I could make out the word "Arm". I looked down at my arm, confused. But then it hit me. I looked at James Arm. Bitemark. Shit.
Garry sprinted over, knocked me out of the way, and shot James between the eyes without hesitation. "Dont be a dumbass like that again. You know better" garry said. I nodded. He was right. I made a huge mistake. But I couldnt let this slow us down. We headed out.