Author's Note: Well, I was trying to work on Star Fox: the Tiberium Wars when I got a writer's block. Then Left for dead 2 came out, and I got addicted to that. So I then got blindsided by my muse. Trust me, me and my muse don't get along. When I want to write about one thing, it wants to write about something else. I liked the idea so I decided why not, and went along for the ride. Here is the culmination of playing L4D2 for about three days, and reading some L4D fanfics. For those who want to know. This takes place just after L4D2 ends, and this is a more realistic version. When the military extracts someone, they will have boots on the ground. This is the story of one such boot.
DISCLAMER: I don't own Left 4 Dead. I own a copy of L4D2, and that's all. I do, however own all human (not zombie) characters, since they all are OCs anyway.
Tough choices have to be made. I made one. One had to stay behind. One had to die, so that the others may live. I chose to be the one. I wouldn't ask any of my men to do it. I was the one who fought as they made their escape. I was the one, left for dead.
Chapter One: Left Behind and Left for Dead
My rifle's bolt snapped back with a crack, and locked open. Empty. I snapped the rifle forward and cracked one of the zombies in the head with its butt stock. The zombie dropped to the ground. Before it could try and get back to its feet, I kicked it in the face and stamped down on it with my combat boot. I felt a sick satisfaction in the sound of cracking bones. I quickly reloaded the rifle as I surveyed the scene. Zombies were lying down in various places and in various states of dismemberment. All of them were dead, or at least were reintroduced to death. I sighed as I looked for another magazine for my SCAR-H rifle. When I couldn't find one I slung my rifle and pulled out my service M9 pistol and the forty five ACP pistol that my father gave me. I checked the load and saw that I had more than enough ammo for both pistols.
"Man, I did not sign up for this," I muttered as I started looking for a way off of this jury-rigged LZ that my platoon had hastily set up. I threw one last glance at the bridge that the fly-boys just destroyed about half an hour ago and then moved over to one of the Humvees. I opened the door and quickly looked through it. I found several 5.56 NATO magazines. I grabbed them but I couldn't find any 7.62mm magazines. So I went to another Humvee, but again my search turned up fruitless. I sighed as I swept the area again. Not one zombie had moved, and no new ones showed up. 'Something about this doesn't feel right,' I thought. I looked around and found the radio on one of the Humvees. I moved over to it and tried to radio in. No such luck. I let the radio fall and tried to remember the maps of the surrounding area. A lot of the towns had already been hit for survivors. The closest town from here that hadn't was about three states away.
"I got a lot of walking ahead of me," I said. I sighed. I looked at my watch and saw that it was about 1500H local. 'Time to get moving. I need to find a safe house before nightfall. I got everything I could find here, so time to move,' I thought as I aimed the two pistols in front of me. I ran towards the remains of the bridge. I turned to the right and saw the road that had been blocked off by several assorted cars, trucks, and other obstacles had been cleared by the bombing run. I moved down the now opened street cautiously. My eyes never stayed in one place. They swept the area constantly, just like I was trained. I didn't see one zombie. Now I was getting spooked. Something was very wrong. I was too smart, too well trained, and too experienced to ignore what my instincts were telling me. I walked along the highway until I found a ramp and went down it. When I reached the bottom, I heard a snarl come from my right. My weapons snapped up, and I was facing the direction that it came from in an instant. 'Great, a hunter,' I thought, as I saw it sitting on top of a truck. Through the truck's passenger and driver windows, I saw several of the common infect zombies.
"Time to earn some hazard pay," I muttered as they hunter leapt at me. I fired on the hunter with both pistols, and landing several good hits on it, but it wasn't enough to kill it. I ducked at the last minute and let it sail over and behind me before I lashed out with a boot. The kick connected with its chin as it spun around to face me. The hit knocked it off balance, but it recovered quickly. I was faster however. I hit it with a roundhouse kick to the face, followed by pistol whipping it in the face. The hunter dropped to the ground, and I quickly put four more rounds, at point-blank range, into its head. I then turned my sights onto the now advancing hoard of zombies running towards me. A savage grin graced my features as I put round after round down range. The zombies dropped left and right as the rounds tore through their bodies. The pistols' slides locked back after the last round was shot and went through the head of a zombie. It dropped to the ground dead. I reloaded the rounds without any thought and the weapons were loaded in just a couple of seconds. I looked around and saw no more zombies. I felt fear rise up in me. It felt like a stone was dropped into my stomach. I took a second and accepted the fear. I understood why it was there. I then banished it from my mind. Fear would only cloud my judgment and hamper me in the long run. I then looked around again and saw a building that looked promising for a way to continue, as every street and such was blocked off by concrete barriers and fences. I ran towards the house. Inside were several zombies that I dispatched with ease. I then reloaded the pistols and continued to look through the house.
I as I moved into another room, I heard a gurgling noise. 'Boomer,' I thought as I scanned the area from my position. I peeked into the next room. Bingo, one Boomer and several common infected. I aimed my pistols at the Boomer, while using the corner as cover. I open fired. The Boomer went with the first couple of shots, taking out several of the common infected. I shifted my aim to the closest of the zombies and killed all of them before they could close to melee range. The noise attracted some unwanted attention as a Smoker's tongue wrapped around me. My right arm was free however. As the smoker started dragging me towards itself, my right hand flew to my belt. I tore out my combat knife and stabbed the tongue repeatedly. I was then slammed into a wall. The tongue was trying to pull me out the window, but it didn't have the strength to. I switched from stabbing the tongue to trying to cut through it as it started to cut off my airway. Eventually I cut through the tongue and almost stabbed myself. I quickly tried to locate the Smoker as I recovered my breath, but couldn't see it.
I sheathed my knife and looked around for my forty five that I had dropped to get at my knife. I saw it laying about twenty feet from my position. I pushed myself into a crouched stance and looked out the window again. This time I spotted the Smoker. I changed hands on the M9 and braced it against the window sill so that I had a good steady shot. I aimed down the sights of the pistol and shot. The Smoker died in a puff of its own smoke. I stood back up and moved to pick up my forty five back up. I reloaded both pistols before I moved on. The house had one whole wall missing from it, probably from a Tank, and so did the house directly next to it. I proceeded from house to house killing what common infected there were. After I cleared that row of houses, I noticed that I was in the kitchen of the house I was in. I checked the cupboards and was surprised that I found some chow in one of them. There were about three bags of chips and two bottles of water. I quickly chugged one bottle of water and eat one of the bags of chips there. I stored the rest of the food and water in one of the twelve pockets on my ACU.
"Alright, that should get me until I reach a safe house. Now, where is it?" I asked myself as I scanned the area. I went to the houses front door and opened it. Outside was a zombie that wasn't facing me. I holstered the pistol that was in my right hand, since the other was already holstered from opening the door. I quickly stepped up behind the infected and snapped its neck. It dropped noiselessly. I pulled out my two pistols and opened up on the rest of the hoard. An infected that had body armor rushed me. To conserve ammo, I focused on shooting the rest of the infected and let the armored one close. Once it was in range, I lashed out with a pistol and nailed it in the helmet. I then followed that up with a roundhouse to the head. The zombie flew to the ground. It tried to pick itself back up, but I snap-kicked it in the faceplate. It went down to the ground. I finished with the rest of the hoard after reloading my pistols twice. I looked down at the armored zombie, but saw that it wasn't in the location I had dropped it. I felt a clawed hand nail me in the back. I threw myself forward before the armored zombie could get a second strike. I spun around and holstered both my pistols. It came at me with the typical zombie way. I dodged its first swipe and counterattacked. I smashed my knee into its gut and forced it to double over. It was quick to recover but I then smashed my right elbow onto its spine. It dropped to the ground as the muscles locked up. I then slammed my heel onto the back of its neck. The neck snapped and the zombie was still. I then ripped off its helmet and put a nine millimeter round into its head. 'Now it'll stay dead,' I thought as I moved down the street and saw a safe house symbol painted on a house further down.
As I cautiously made my way towards the house with the safe house symbol on it, I heard a loud roar come from behind me. I looked behind me, praying it wasn't what I thought it was. Of course, with my luck I was right. A Tank appeared and started running towards me. With just two pistols, I knew I wasn't going to be able to take it on by myself. I holstered both of the pistols and started running for the safe house. The Tank was faster than me and was gaining, but I still had a sizeable lead on it. I was about fifty yards from the house when I looked behind me to check its progress. The Tank was about twenty yards behind and gaining. I pushed myself to run faster; there was no way I was going to die now; running with my tail between my legs. I made it the last few yards when the Tank ran into the building. The whole building shuddered with the impact, but the walls held. I noticed that there were several zombies in the house, but I just ignored them and continued to run up the stairs. I pulled out my M9 and shifted it over to my right hand. I shot three zombies that were standing in my way in the head. I didn't even stumble over their bodies as I flew up the stairs.
I turned to my left and shot a Boomer that had been standing there, which in turn killed three other zombies. I then ducked as a Hunter leapt at me and I ran down the hallway; the entire time the Tank was still banging away at the house. I saw the safe room just a few yards down the hall, when I was knocked to the ground, with the Hunter on me, and my M9 flew out of my grasp. I was able to roll onto my back with the Hunter straddling me. Before it could do anything, I lashed out with a left cross to the head, and followed that up with a right cross to the temple. I kept bashing it until I was able to reach down and grab my combat knife. I quickly yanked it out of its sheath and stabbed the Hunter in the head with it. I then shoved it off of me, and I was just able to stand back up as the rest of the hoard closed into melee range. I lashed out with the knife and scored a hit to the jugular of a zombie. I followed that up with an elbow to the face of the one behind it. I then lash out with a kick and try to push myself away from the hoard, to get some distance. I switch the knife from my right to my left hand and pull out my forty five. I start firing away with the pistol and I stab anything that gets too close to me with my knife as I slowly back away to get into the safe room. When I pass by my M9, I quickly sheath my knife and grab it while I reload my forty five that have just spent its last round. I then unload with both pistols and start to rapidly back up. I eventually make it inside and slam the door shut, just as the last pistol round in both my guns fire at targets in melee distance.
I looked behind me and saw an auto shotgun. I quickly grabbed it and started to spray down the hallway. After four full magazines of ammo, the hoard finally was eliminated. Everything was oddly quiet. I then noticed that the Tank had stopped banging on the house. 'Must have given up,' I though as I set the shotgun down and lean against the wall midway between my entrance to this safe haven and the exit into the closest place man can get to hell before he dies. I shut my eyes to quickly catch my breath before I lost all conscious thought and fall asleep.
Author's Note 2: Well, not bad for something written in about four hours, with minimal assistance from any source. This story is going to be a long one. This story has as much plot as L4D does, which really isn't much other than survival, so we'll see where my muse takes us. Should be fun. I'll let you all know if I ever decide to actually put in another plot as it happens. I'll update this when I get an urge to write about it, so don't expect periodic updates. Anyway, I'll see you next update.
Any CONSRUCTIVE criticism and/or reviews are highly appreciated.