Left 4 Dead

Fire emblazoned upon crumbling rooftops; smog circumferencing the limits of the desolate town. All that was once human about this small, humble, quiet American town, had been trodden away by the monotonous automatons that now haunted this eerie place. The sun sunk below the skyline, its fingers of light trying desperately to grasp the tiled roofs for one last breath of air. Suffocated. Light diminished, but Zoey, Francis, Louis and the wizened Bill, were all too used to this scenario.

They had been through a hundred towns just like this one. Decaying, rotting away. These places had once been the heart of suburban America, but now, were empty tombs for anyone stupid enough to remain in their vicinity. The four survivors strode through the streets with a justified caution. "Not one," grunted Bill, "..Not one sorry survivor. I refuse to believe the good people of this country have all vanished, or worse."

"There must be civilian rescue points nearby, its the only explanation" Zoey said optimistically.

Bill stopped dead in his tracks, and turned to face the tired looking Zoey. "We've been on the move for, well, how long, 3 months, nearly 4? and not one face,"

"Well not one living face" chuckled Francis.

"These so-called evac zones are nothing but myths, the last commands from a crumbling government, too undermanned, overwhelmed, and short supplied to do anything about this whole mess."

"I'm not giving up hope" Zoey replied defiantly.

"And neither am I, but we gotta face facts."

Louis crouched down and grasped a small metallic shape, covered in dirt. Using the edge of his much stained shirt, he gently cleaned the dirt from the object. "I think you guys need to look at this"

Zoey, Francis and Bill, paused from their discussion and turned to face Louis. Louis passed the object over to Bill, who held it into what light remained, squinting as his aged eyes strained to recognise the engraving on the side.

"First Lt. Carlos Merida, U.S. Armed Forces..."

"The Army was here?!" Louis quirked.

"If this is the tag, where is the body?...." Bill said.

Bill knew this was significant. Having served in the nightmarish massacres in Vietnam, he knew no Tag was ever left behind. They served as not only military identification, but as a record of death. If the soldier, to whom this tag belonged to, was dead, then surely one of his comrades would have collected his tag. It made no sense. Whilst Bill was left musing this puzzle. Louis began to inspect the surrounding ground, brushing aside the litter and debris which had covered the ground like some kind of post-apocalyptic carpet. He quickly found several more tags. Zoey and Francis looked on, confused. Before long, Louis had a handful. They seemed to trail towards a small, blocked up building. The building was two stories, and its grey concrete finish stood out in this small, urban town. The building was covered with bullet holes, and ominously, the boarded up windows were covered in dark, crimson, blood, dripping down the cracks and holes.

Louis, turned and called the others over. Zoey walked to the door and tried to give it a gentle push. "It's locked from the inside" Zoey pressed her ear to door, while the others remained silent. "I,....I,....I can hear,.....crying"

"Witch" Bill growled.

"No," Zoey quickly interjected, "It sounds like a man..."

"A male witch? What the fuck" Francis blurted out.

Louis turned to Bill, "Is that even possible, I mean, I've never known that to happen before."

"Neither have I," Bill replied, "I'm no biologist. I don't know how this infection works, how it mutates these people. I don't want to take any chances however, I say we leave, quickly!"

"And what if its a survivor?!" Zoey cried out, "We can't just leave!"

The group were now confronted with a huge dilemma. Inside the tomb of a building, on the other side of those doors, lay either a rare survivor in need of help and rescue; or the most deadly of all the infected mutations, the creature known best to the survivors as the "Witch". Witches were the rarest of all the infected, but by far the most terrifying, faster then a hunter, more durable then a tank and with claws that could skin any man in a second. The survivors had only encountered these horrific monsters twice before, and on both occasions had managed to sneak past them without detection. In the first weeks of the outbreak, Bill had seen one of these rip a man in two, before a team of 12 police officers took it down with SMG's and pump action shotguns. 12 men. They had 4. If there was a witch behind these doors, Bill knew they had no chance.

Bill had come to a decision. "First.....we need to find a way in," Zoey smiled. "Francis, Louis, go round the back, see if there's a back door or a window; Zoey.........I want you,....to, go to the other side of the street and wait in that building."

"BUT......" Zoey cried out.

"No buts, just do it."

Zoey stood still, lost in her thoughts, but then reluctantly started to make her way across the street. Francis and Louis returned from behind the building. Louis approached Bill. "There's a door round back. Its locked, but It looks weak, I think we can knock it open."

Bill, Louis and Francis made their way round to the back of the building, Bill taking one last good look at Zoey, to make sure she was safely out of the way. Francis eyed up the door, and put his automatic shotgun on top of a nearby dumpster. "Well, do you want me to smash it open?"

Meanwhile, Zoey entered the abandoned grocery store, opposite the building. She switched on her flashlight, and as she slowly made her way to the back of the store. She approached the till area and spotted a door which read "STAFF ONLY". She removed her Smith & Wesson 9mm handgun from her holster. The metallic finish gleamed against the moonlight that shone through the cracked windows. With her gun in her right hand, and flashlight in the other, she slowly pushed the door open with her foot. The door creaked eerily as it slowly arced open. Zoey could not believe her eyes........

CRASH!! Francis stumbled on to the floor, as he crashed through the door. Bill and Louis quickly ran threw, surveying the room. The room itself was pitch black, so the three survivors switched on their flashlights. The beams of white light scanned the room. Particles of dust and debris floated in the air, lingering above broken furniture and the barricade that had prevented them from entering through the front door. Louis spotted another tag on the floor. This must have been where they held out, he thought. "Safeties off" Bill whispered.

As the 3 friends slowly maneuvered themselves around the debris towards the stairwell, the sound of crying had again become apparent, and they could clearly hear that the cry emanated from a male. Whether it was human or monster, they still couldn't tell. Francis scanned the stairs with his flashlight. Blood. The steps were covered entirely in the red liquid. Louis placed his hand on the rail. He immediately jerked backwards, with green slime dripping off his hand.

"Bile, boomers were hear" Bill muttered. The 3 cautiously climbed the staircase, being careful not to slip on the putrid green bile. The crying grew louder, they were getting near. Francis went in front, and reached the top of the stairs, where a steel door lay slight ajar. He carefully moved close to the door, pushing his ear to the cold, harsh steel. He gestured towards Bill and Louis. Whoever or whatever it was, was behind this door and was about to be confronted by the 3 nervous survivors. Francis slowly pushed the door open with the end of his shotgun, and there it was, crouched in the corner of the room, crying..........