AN: Alrighty everybody, take two I guess? I tried this once before but I wasn't happy at all with the way it was turning out. It felt too cliche and just all around bleh, so, here we go with another, hopefully better, rendition. It's also completely different, not even the Hunter character I'm using is the same, only that it's still L4D, still a hunter, and will eventually involve survivors from the games. With that all out of the way, on to the disclaimer: I do not own Left 4 Dead. I only own my characters.


Army staff sergeant Jason Mitchell is left alone in a wasteland empty of everything but broken buildings and the infected. Struggling to cope with the loss of his team and the guilt he feels over his own continued survival, he fights a daily battle to remind himself why he keeps going. Just as he decides he has nothing left to lose he meets someone who will change his mind and give him more to live for than he thought he would ever have again...


Jason Mitchell's PoV

I've been alone in this mess now for over a week. We started out with me and five of the other guys getting cut off from the rest of our unit and then being left behind when the rest of the army pulled out. After that things went from bad to worse, we had lost one man almost immediately and since then the infected had been picking us off one by one. And now six months later I was stranded, alone, in this city, with nothing but the infected to keep me company.

I jolted awake, thinking for a split second that I heard my best friend trying to wake me, then shook my head and settled back against the wall. I swear I'm losing my mind. Baxter and I had been the only ones left for the past month, but then he'd been bitten and only a few hours later he turned and started trying to rip me to pieces. I had to shoot him. I could still remember his face, his eyes, swimming with agony even as he slashed at me with hands twisted into vicious talons. He hadn't had a clue what was happening. Killing him took everything I had at the time, and after it was over I'd just sat there holding him. And now here I was dreaming that he was here talking to me, barely a week after he was gone. Maybe it's just my head trying to cope, I don't know.

I looked at my watch then started gathering together what few food items were left in the safehouse and started packing it all into my rucksack. This place was starting to feel claustrophobic, even after only about four hours of sleep, five hours total of being here. Once I had everything of even remote value gathered together and packed, I quietly unbarred the safehouse door and slipped out into the mostly empty streets. It's strange to think, but by now even the infected have been falling in numbers and most of them have either died off or just disappeared. I don't really know why. I only know that they seem to be disappearing. That hadn't saved Baxter though.

I spent the whole day wandering through the city, scavenging as I went. I picked up every can of food that still seemed like it would be usable, and there weren't many. Still, when you spend all day picking up canned goods, your bag will start to get heavy. By the time I found the next safehouse even I was feeling the strain of carrying this much on my own. Still, I knew I would need it if I planned to survive long enough to make it to… wherever I was trying to go. Now I thought about it I didn't know the answer to that anymore. Maybe I didn't have anywhere to go at all…

I entered the safehouse and barred the door, then I began working out dinner and setting up for what little sleep I might be able to get. Beans. Before the army I hated beans. Once I joined I learned that there were far worse things that are considered food, and that some people don't know how to cook. Not that I had any room to talk, my cooking usually amounts to throwing whatever I plan to eat into a dish then putting it in the microwave and running it anywhere from five to ten minutes until it's hot. Still, it's better than eating a cold meal, especially now.

I was exhausted, barely able to make it through my meal. I still tried not to fall asleep even though I've been awake for what seems like days. Eventually I got up to pace around the room, then I picked up my rifle and broke it down to clean it. Halfway through I closed my eyes for a few seconds to try and ease the burn from lack of sleep.

"Hey, Mitch, are you going to find a bed anytime soon?"

I looked up to see Baxter, Torres, and Ramsey standing around with silly grins on their faces. "Wha…What the hell?!" I rubbed my eyes frantically, but they were still there.

"Man Sarge, you look like you just saw a ghost," snorted Ramsey.

I looked around. Yes, still in the same safehouse as before, there were the remains of dinner scattered around the Bunsen burner in the middle of the floor. That had been the only thing left in the place that would actually work. There were four bowls instead of the one I thought had been there. The last month and a half must have been all a dream.

"I… I must have dozed off," I didn't want to admit I was shaken, but we'd all been working together for so long that they knew.

"Come on, Mitch, spill it already," Torres said, then he grinned, "Be honest: was it your ex?"

"Shut up," I ordered, but I was too relieved to really be mad at him.

"Dude, Mitchell's ex is something nobody should joke about, he's lucky she only took the house and the car," Baxter reminded them, then he looked at me, "You look like you had a real scare though man, are you sure you're ok?"

"I'm fine," I sighed, "It's just… Just this damn outbreak, getting left behind and the army not coming back for us. I guess I just thought…"

I trailed off as I raised my eyes to look around at them. They were all staring at me with strange, not quite there expressions on their faces.

"Uh… Guys? What's going on?" I asked.

"What are you talking about?" Ramsey asked.

"Nothing's going…" Torres trailed off to a low moan. Then the other two joined in.

"Oh no… No, no, no…"

They just tilted their heads and shambled toward me, their hands reaching, their eyes empty pools of colored glass. Except for Baxter. His eyes were the same pain filled orbs I'd looked into not more than a week before. Looked into as I shot him dead.

"I'm sorry!"

I closed my eyes…

And opened them to find myself sitting in an empty safehouse, my rifle in pieces across my lap and scattered on the floor. I put my hands to my face and started to sob. They were gone. All three of them. I was so… Completely… Alone…

I woke again during the coldest, darkest part of the morning on my side with my knees held tightly to my chest. I was stiff, but my nerves were raw after all the nightmares. My friends' ghosts haunted me, every time I closed my eyes there they were, sometimes taunting me, sometimes accusing me, sometimes asking why them and not me. Worse still were the times when they said nothing at all and just stood there and stared before slowly coming for me and refusing to go down no matter how many shots I pumped into them. The guilt was killing me. If there had ever been anything fair about this world I would have been the one to die, not the others. Baxter had a wife and two little kids, Torres was going to go back to college, Ramsey had only just finished high school when he joined the army… The only thing I had to go home to was an empty, rundown apartment and most of my pay collected in alimony to go to an ex wife who never really cared. Why was I the one to survive and not them? They were the ones who should have made it.

I looked down to see my hand clasping my sidearm. I couldn't remember drawing it, but as I stared at it I thought how simple it would be to just put the barrel in my mouth and squeeze. There would be no more pain, no more remembering, and most of all no more guilt. I would be where I belonged, dead alongside them. But killing myself wouldn't bring them back. I knew that of course. I looked at my sidearm again.

"There was nothing we could do, Mitch. Besides, somebody has to live long enough to bring their tags to their families."

Baxter said that when we first lost Forbes, and he kept saying that right on up until he and I were the only ones left. By then we had been picking up the tags from our dead fellow soldiers so long that it was second nature. Now, I had everyone's tags. Alright. I would live long enough to bring what little of him back to his family that I could. Beyond that, I did not know. I still felt sure that somehow it was all my fault, but I couldn't change what happened. I would have to pay that piper after my task was done.

I took a deep breath, gathered the parts of my rifle back together, laid them out neatly and finished cleaning it, then carefully put it back together. I cleaned out my dishes as best I could, then put both them and the burner into my rucksack, because you never know when you'll ever find another working appliance these days. I made a final round of the safehouse, looking to see if there was anything else I might need that I could carry. There wasn't, or at least if there was it was too dark for me to find it. I was saving my flashlight in case there was a time when I needed it more.

That was another thing I should really look for. Batteries. If I remembered right there should be a gas station just up the street. If I was lucky there might still be batteries and possibly a few other necessities there s well. I hadn't had a shave or a hair cut since this whole mess started, so maybe a razor or three would be a good idea. Still couldn't leave the safe house until the sun came up. I promised…

I dozed again several times, but every time I woke with the same dream, the same nightmare. The same feeling that I should be dead. No matter what I tried I couldn't stop thinking about them. I had to convince myself yet again that dying wouldn't solve my problems. I just wanted this nightmare to end… I waited another three hours probably before it finally started getting light outside, but once it did I couldn't stay in the room any longer. I had to get out. I opened the door and left, not even caring if it slammed as it closed. It didn't anyway so it didn't matter.

I just kept on going in the direction the other guys and I had started off in, although I wasn't sure at this point if our plan had been really possible or just wishful thinking. The original plan had been to make our own way to the next CEDA e-vac center close to a hundred miles away and hopefully reconnect with the rest of the army there. From the e-vac the plan was to continue rescuing survivors until everyone who could be saved was out of the quarantine zone, then anyone who could would meet up with their families and be relocated. Now that plan was looking less and less likely to happen.

I kept on for the rest of the day and well into the night, nearly ready to fall flat on the side of the road before I found the next safehouse. By then I was nearly a zombie myself, ready to just collapse on the edge of the street. I barely managed to bar the door before I collapsed in front of it with my back resting against it. I didn't remember doing it but I must have passed out for a while at that point, because the nightmares returned, worse than ever. I wondered again if it would really be such a bad thing if I ended it, then again decided that I couldn't do that. Baxter's family needed to know what happened so they would be able to attempt to move on. Why, out of everyone, did I have to be the only one who was immune..?

I spent another sleepless night in a safehouse I didn't feel I deserved, trapped somewhere between wanting to end my life and my need to do one last good thing before I died. When I left the safehouse I wandered in a haze until suddenly the realization hit me that if I spent just one more night alone I probably wouldn't make it through. I collapsed hard against a wall and stood there for probably a good ten minutes while that knowledge sank in. I didn't know how much longer I would be able resist the urge to put my gun to my head and pull the trigger, how much longer I would be able to keep my friend's family first in my mind. I was losing my grip, I realized.

I shoved myself off the wall and lurched forward, deciding to just keep walking, reasoning that I would figure out what to do if or when I actually reached the next safehouse. I'm sure if anyone had been around to see me they would have thought I was one of the infected myself. I couldn't see straight, couldn't walk a straight line, I could barely even stay on my feet. I have no idea how I made it to the next safehouse, or even when. I didn't even bother to bar the door, I just walked in and let myself fall on the floor. I vaguely managed to tell myself that I really should eat, but I didn't want to move. Still, I forced myself to open a can of something, I wasn't sure what, heated it up on the burner, and ate the meal straight from the can, then passed out almost immediately.

I had been beyond exhausted last night, so tired that, if I did have the nightmares again I couldn't remember them. I was slightly alarmed to see the safehouse door had been left wide open, and I looked around and through the two or three rooms to make sure there were no zombies inside. I shuddered when I discovered that there were a few infected, all dead from slash wounds made all in sets of four. What in the world was in here with me last night? And why hadn't it attacked? Or maybe it had and I just didn't know it… I quickly checked myself over, but I only confirmed what I already knew, that the lack of physical pain other than fatigue meant that I didn't have a scratch on me. So what exactly did happen last night? I didn't know if I wanted to know or if I would rather it stayed a mystery. I repacked my burner and spoon after cleaning it, then picked up a map of the town before walking out the door and heading down the street again. At least I wasn't ready to fall over in the street at the moment…

I pulled out the map and inspected it just to make sure of where I was headed, then re-folded it and slid it back into my pocket. I couldn't be sure, but from the way the city seemed to be laid out the next marked safehouse that I had a reasonable chance of reaching was a little over two miles away in a straight line. With all the detours I would have to take due to traffic and debris it was closer to three or four miles away. And that still didn't take possible attack by infected monstrosity into account. Depending on the type of infected I could be forced even farther out of my way.

For the first mile or so nothing happened and I eventually started keeping step just to relieve some of the monotony of the walk. That is, I distracted myself until I heard a soft rustling noise. I immediately stopped moving and looked around for anything that might have made the sound, but didn't find anything. A few steps later I heard it again, but again I couldn't find anything. I heard a can drop to the ground on the street a little ways away, a gust of wind whistled down my own street and through the cars carrying leaves and debris with it, then nothing. I heard another sound, what sounded like the footfalls of a dog trotting across the pavement, but I still couldn't find anything as I looked around.

Remembering that some of the infected could hunt you better if you were in the middle of an open street I worked my way to the sidewalk and continued on, my pace a bit slower and not nearly so distracted as it had been before. Thankfully everything on my side of the street was boarded up. There was no way for a hunter to jump me from inside of the buildings anyway at the moment. I was more concerned at this moment that I would accidentally stumble across a tank or charger, or startle a witch. When the rest of my team had still been around we'd at least had a fighting chance, but by myself I was dead if I ran into anything more powerful than your average infected. Still, even those would be enough to put me down if they chose to come at me in a large enough group.

I heard another rustling sound, more cans hit the street, and I still couldn't find the source. I heard the moaning of several common infected, and pulled my combat knife. It wasn't near long enough to be a decent defense against these things, but it was all I had on me at the moment that didn't make any noise. It was still a long time before I came across anything even remotely resembling a threat, and at first it was just a few commons, which I killed as quickly and quietly as I could. I looked at the surrounding buildings, hoping I could find a way to climb over some of the obstacles in my path, but very nearly all the fire escapes had been raised and locked in place far above ground level. I had no way to get any of them down where I could climb them.

I was still tired, what little sleep I managed to get last night hadn't been enough to completely cure my fatigue and despite having only been moving around for an hour and a half I was starting to wear down. I was starting to weave on my feet, another result of how tired I was, but I knew that if I wanted to live through this trip I couldn't stop for anything. I had to make it to the safehouse at least. Still, I had been a long time without proper rest and I was starting to feel it. Then I looked up and groaned.

The street I had to walk down was littered with both wrecked and parked cars, and the traffic jam stretched for close to four city blocks. There was no way around either, I either took this street or I didn't get to where I needed to be. So, I simply shifted my rucksack to a better position and continued on, hoping I would make it before anything too drastic happened. I walked down the street as far as I could go without touching anything, then picked my way through a destroyed convenience store to get around a car that was sitting across the sidewalk. I almost wanted to go back, but I was far enough now that it would be more trouble than it was worth. Plus, this was the only street that would get me directly to the overpass and then from there the overpass would lead more or less straight to the safehouse.

I heard skittering feet again, still sounding like a dog's nails clicking across the pavement, but I still didn't see anything when I looked around trying to find the thing. There were more sounds of rustling, more nail clicking, then it either stopped or moved away again. I hated this. Being on edge, walking all day every day, never sleeping more than two or three hours maximum at night, all this was taking a toll. I tripped over something, looked down briefly to see a body, and before thinking I reached out my hand to catch myself and avoid falling. I touched a parked car…

The alarm started blaring and I had no way to shut it off. The next instant there was a howl that seemed like it was coming from all over the city as infected were drawn in from every direction. I ran for it, not even bothering to fight except for what was right in front of me. I blew heads off with my assault rifle, put my blade through eye sockets, kicked down whatever didn't fall fast enough for my liking and kept on going. I heard a noise, what sounded like a dog barking, then there was a loud bellow and the ground started to shake. Shit. Either a charger or a tank, both were bad, both would kill me, ether they'd actively chase me down and crush me purposefully or the chaos from the thing tearing through the street would get me crushed under a car.

Then it burst through the wall of the building I was standing beside. Charger. That was actually a little worse than a tank. A tank would just throw things at you, or try and punch you. A charger on the other hand would grab you and throw you, then follow up with a lunging charge, grab you again and pound you into the ground until you were dead. I scrambled backward, firing the last of my clip into the thing as I tried to put some distance between myself and the giant infected. The clip emptied and I fumbled before finally managing to feed in another and resumed firing. I just had time to realize I'd made a terrible mistake, then it had me in its hand and started pounding me into the pavement. I felt something snap and I knew I had at least one broken rib, and I frantically started stabbing the monster's hand trying to get it to let go. It let go alright. The next thing I knew I was airborne, then I landed hard on top of yet another car, although mercifully this one didn't have an active alarm. I vaguely heard a dog barking again, the charger roared, then I looked and saw something fly at the thing before I completely blacked out.

I woke… I wasn't sure how much later it was, but the sun was very low in the sky and it was starting to get cold. I closed my eyes again. Everything hurt and I didn't want to move. I had at least one broken rib that I knew of, plus countless other lacerations and bruises, all of which I could feel at the moment. My plan to stay put was shattered however when I felt something gently but firmly nudging me, trying to get me to move. I opened my eyes again to find a giant fuzzy snout with a big black nose coming in for a sniff of my face. The tongue came out and licked my nose and I groaned. The dog whined a little and licked me again and I started to roll over, but the pain in my ribs nearly knocked me out again.

The dog kept whining but gradually I became aware of a whirring, almost chirping noise that was also being made somewhere near me and I felt the nudge again. I blinked my eyes and slowly shook my head trying to clear it, but when I finally looked around I nearly jumped out of my skin. My ribs protested the movements and I yelped, unable to hold in the sound. Eventually I forced my eyes open again, and I found the creature still there. It was an infected, but it was off. Definitely something I had never seen before. Distinctly female yet mutated beyond anything other than the spitter and the boomer, it looked like a mixture between a human and a cat. It was… terrifying, to say the least. On top of that I could barely move, there was no way I could get away from the thing.

The whirring sound came again and I realized this strange infected was what made that noise. It seemed more curious than anything though, but then both the dog and the infected came alert, both staring off down the street, back in the direction I'd come from. There was a sound of metal grinding on metal, and the soft whirring the infected had been making turned into a louder trill as it started to poke at me. I didn't want anything to do with any of this and with an effort I heaved myself up onto my elbows and then rolled off the car only to fall flat on the road. The dog whined at me and shoved its nose up against my neck, and I dragged myself to my hands and knees. The infected kept making the whirring noise and in seconds it had hopped to the ground beside me.

"Get the fuck away from me!" I snarled, and I took a swipe at it with the knife still held in my hand.

It only backed off far enough to get out of reach of my blade, and it kept making that infuriating noise. Another sound of metal screeching against metal came from down the street and the infected stepped up the game, whirring and chirping as well as bouncing around nervously. More sounds from down the street, an angry roar followed by what sounded like a stampede coming our way. I struggled to my feet and started making my way along the street, stumbling the entire time. The dog stayed close to me, whining and nudging me when I started to slow down, letting me lean against it as I walked.

I was running out of strength to keep going though. Everything hurt, my head felt like it was ready to fall off and go rolling away down the street, and I was having a hard time staying on my feet. The strange infected still stuck around, whirring and chirping the whole time. I tried several times to get it to go away, but it persisted in coming back. I didn't have a choice but to let it follow me. There was another angry bellow from down the street and I turned around to see a car flying in my direction, having been picked up and thrown by something very large. The infected let out a startled yip and urged the dog and me to move faster. There was no way I could. I started to fall and I couldn't stop it, ending up sprawled flat on the concrete pinned underneath my rucksack. The infected started prodding me again and I brandished my knife at it, not able to do much else. The bag was just too heavy and I was too tired to move it.

The tank rampaged closer and both the dog and the infected had enough. The dog started growling, a heavy, rumbling sound that vibrated it and the air around it, while the infected flattened itself and emitted a sharp hiss. The next thing I knew both of them had gone after the tank, the infected launching itself through the air with an earsplitting shriek while the dog started barking and barreled toward the massive infected.

I finally managed to struggle out from under my bag and then began looking for my rifle, but eventually I had to give up. It must have been flung away from me when I was thrown by the charger earlier. I still had my sidearm though. I drew it and started shooting, hoping that I could do enough damage to make the tank fall before it crushed the entire street in its path, but I soon had to shift my focus from the tank to the infected swarming me. The tank roared and threw another car which took out a good portion of the infected staggering towards me, then I took out the rest with my sidearm. I turned back around as I heard the tank roar, then I saw the infected leap into its face with claws flying, only to leap away as blood spurted from the remnants of the tank's eyes, nose, and parts of its neck. It went after the little infected and the dog ran into its path, barking and snarling. The tank started wildly throwing punches and sending cars flying, tearing up the street in its fury before the dog latched onto one of its legs to bring it to the ground, then when it fell the infected girl leapt at it again and finished it off.

I went back for my bag and started to pick it up but attempting to do so put strain on my shoulders and made it feel like my ribs would explode out my side. I nearly fell over again. I heard the tell-tale whirring sound and looked up to see the infected sitting on the street directly on the other side of my pack staring at me. I scooted backwards, and at my sudden movement the infected bounced straight up then skittered away from me. I drew my sidearm and pointed it at the infected, and the thing's eyes widened for a split second before it took off and disappeared. I shook my head and holstered my weapon, then tried to lift the pack again. Once again I had to put it down, I just wasn't able to move it with all the supplies it was loaded up with. I looked around for a cart or a wagon, something with wheels that I might drag it into in order to tow it the rest of the way to the safehouse, but there didn't seem to be any such thing. I briefly thought I might convince the dog to drag it for me, but it seemed to have disappeared right along with the weird infected that I'd chased off. There was nothing for it, I would have to drag it on my own as best I could.

I managed to get it to the overpass by way of alternately dragging and half carrying it before I finally just had to put it down again completely. It was dark and I could hear things moving around that I couldn't see. I didn't want the noise from the pack to alert anything, common, witch, it didn't matter. I could not handle another fight in the state I was in. I pulled the things out that I needed most, gun cleaning kit, ammunition, Bunsen burner, a few cans of food, plus the container full of the dog tags I had collected from my team, then I put everything in whichever pockets they would fit in and headed up over the overpass.

I was tired again, so tired that I was almost ready to fall over and just lie there until either morning came or some infected found and killed me. Still, I forced myself to keep going and eventually I started hearing what sounded like a dog panting and nails clicking as it moved across the pavement, accompanied by that whirring noise that I was sure would forever haunt my nightmares after this. Why in hell did that thing have to follow me? Couldn't it find someone else to torment? Maybe it could irritate a witch and they'd either both die or one would kill the other. I could hear it making noises, and hear the dog moving around and panting, but the moon was hidden behind thick clouds and it was much too dark to see. I would have been fine with just having the dog, but apparently the two went together somehow, although it baffled me that the two hadn't fought.

I couldn't figure out why the infected hadn't tried to eat the dog yet, especially since I knew the creatures weren't picky about what they ate. After the first few residential areas my team and I always avoided them, because anything could be infected, and every type of body you could imagine was strewn around the streets. Dogs, cats, random other pets, even a horse at one point. Ramsey flat refused to go anywhere near it, and it was only later that I found out his parents owned a ranch. I wished I'd never known that…

Suddenly I realized that both the dog and the infected, neither of which I could see, had gone completely silent some moments before. I stopped dead in my tracks and heard the unmistakable sound of a witch sobbing. I couldn't tell where it was coming from at first, but after a few more steps I could just make out the glow of its eyes just on the other side of a wrecked car. I didn't want to move, but I didn't have a choice. I kept going, being as quiet and nonthreatening as I could but it still heard me and started to growl, and I froze. I stayed that way for what seemed like hours but it eventually went back to crying again and I took another step. More growls, and I froze again while the witch looked up and around trying to find the sound my boots had made. If I wanted to get past it I would have to do it one step at a time until I was out of its earshot.

I waited. I waited long enough for the temperature to drop some more and my feet started to go numb from the cold. When the witch finally started crying again I barely managed to stop my sigh of relief. I was able to take three more steps before she noticed and started growling again, and again I stopped immediately, hardly daring to breathe as the infected growled and looked around for the source of the sounds I was making. I could see the witch's eyes moving and changing position, and it took me a few moments to figure out that she was moving toward me. I nearly panicked, wondering if she'd figured out where I was and was coming to investigate. If she did then this was going to be the shortest fight of my life, all I had were my combat knife and my sidearm and the witch would have me in pieces on the pavement before I put more than two or three rounds into her.

A high pitched trilling sound came from somewhere across the street from me and the witch's growls caught in the back of its throat before it turned around and headed away from me. I took the opportunity and inched away from where the witch had been sitting crying, backing away down the other side of the overpass until I felt the street leveling out again then I turned and started walking forward. At this point I was only about three blocks away from the safehouse. I was on edge for the rest of the walk, and it only got worse as I started hearing clicking nails and a chirping noise that I knew only too well.

When I got to the safehouse I immediately slammed the door and barred it with both the bar on the door and a crowbar I found laying on the floor. Before allowing myself to calm down and pass out like my head and ribs were screaming at me to do though I went through the whole safehouse with my sidearm drawn and flashlight out, taking out the few common infected that were in the place. At least there was no witch. Once that was done I plugged in my burner, opened a can of beef stew and set it on to heat, then after eating I unplugged the burner and passed out.