Disclaimer #1:

I dunno if any of you hotshots over at Valve are reading this (O hai Gaben!) but please note that I am a poor bastard who has nothing better to do than to write fanfiction. I highly doubt that anyone will offer me money for this, so please do not sue me in all of your Valve omnipotency. I am only writing my interpretation of the storyline of Left 4 Dead and Left 4 Dead 2, and do not claim ownership, or copyright/marketability over any characters owned/created by Valve Studios, mentioned in this story. Again, any and all OC's on this story are of my own creation, and I only ask that proper credentials be given if you use them in another fanfic/fanart/etc.

Disclaimer #2:

This is a sequel that has very little to do with Left 4 Dead.

For the uninformed, this is the continuation of my first story, Acts of Mercy, which is a totally awesome story, honest, go read it and write a review for me.

For the informed, this is the long-awaited sequel that you (hopefully) have been clamoring at for... 3 years. Huh. That's a while.

I suppose I can say that I've been running on Valve time, but that's no excuse.

Anyways, it's here. I'll be updating weekly this time, so sit back and enjoy the story that has (further) driven me to madness. Read it, review it, and keep watching.

Prologue

Savannah, Georgia: October 22, 2009

The smell of burning city filled the air.

There were screams; the screams of timber falling, buildings crumbling, of metal twisting from the heat, bent into forms it was never intended to take.

And there were screams of...other things, cries that drifted from the city and mixed with the smoke.

Certainly no humans, the soldier reflected, from his safe spot off the shore. They'd all been evac'd out, right?

Only things on fire in there were buildings and monsters, he thought, their wailing rising to the sky with the ashes.

Burn em' all and scrub the world clean, he figured, do them and us both a favor.

"They're bombing the place after they torch it, you know," said the soldier's companion, gazing over the flickering, orange-tinted sea. The first soldier shrugged.

"Let 'em."

"Pity about the mall," sighed the second soldier. "Heard Jimmy Gibbs Jr. was doing an appearance before the 'flu hit."

The first soldier shook his head. "Damn shame. You think he got out alright?"

"Eh, celebrities are always the first ones out," the second man said, waving it away. "Heh. Probably hightailed out in that racecar of his."

"Yeah."

There was silence between them, and the sounds of fire, screams, and water hitting the sides of the boat filled the gap, for a time being.

Then:

"Y'know..."

"Yeah?"

"You think there might be..somebody in there? Still in Savannah, alive?"

There was a pregnant pause.

"Nothin' worth saving, Al.

Nothin' worth saving."

? ? ? ? ? ?, Ohio

"Russ?"

"What is it, Skip?"

"Maybe we can take a shortcut."

"What?"

"Y'know, off the beaten path."

"No."

"Look, I know it's crazy, but… hear me out. It's hitting dark. And the last thing we need is to trip over a Witch or something because we can't damn well see what's in front of us."

"I know, but…"

'C'mon, bro! We need to get to the safehouse. It's just an alley."

"Don't bro me. I know perfectly goddamn well we need to get to a safehouse. It's just-"

"What?"

"Something about it… something in my gut tells me it's not a good idea. We should stick to the plan."

"Plan, schpam. We don't have any time. And your gut? Really? What now, old man, are you getting holy revelations in that bean-stuffed stomach of yours?"

"Ok, old man is going a little far, it's only 5 years between us!"

"Whatever, oldster. Let's just take it as it comes. It'll cut it in half,and Eve n' Trav can't go for much longer. We've kicked zombie ass before. It should be a no-brainer."

"… Fine."

"I knew you'd come to your senses!"

"...That back-slap wasn't necessary."

"Totally was. And you know what? If something jumps us, we'll just fill it with lead. Watch out for eachother, deal with whatever they throw at us…"

'We just need to be careful, Skip."

"Russ, it's an alley, ferChrissakes. We'll be out and in the saferoom before ya know it!"

"If you say so..."

"It'll be fine, What's the worst that could happen?"

? ? ? ? ?, ? ? ? ? ? ?, ? ? ?

There was nothing but pain.

Blinding, burning, twisting, and even flowering, almost, if the thing feeling it could think poetically. But it was always there.

It wasn't sure where it was. Sometimes voices spoke over it, far-off, and sometimes to it, but it could only scream in response.

It only huddled in the corner of the white room, while the voices spoke.

Sometimes they could come, with biting little sticks, putting things in its arms that only made it burn even more, holding square things and wearing white coats and always, always watching.

Some dim little part of its mind would spark, occasionally, somehow fighting back. and it would say, quietly, over the pain,

I didn't sign up for this.

Why?