I looked around me. The city of Fairfield, MY HOME was falling apart. My name is Tony Franks. It has been almost two weeks since my unit in the National Guard Zulu Company was deployed to combat some extensive riots in Fairfield. Almost immediately we were attacked by unknown hostiles. These zombie-like creatures were able to rip our men to shreds.

I'll never forget Private Howard R. Reel investigated a corner near the hospital which we made into a base. He heard growling. He turned the flashlight on his M4A1 and investigated. This hooded figure leapt at him. He squeezed two rounds off before his rifle jammed. The figure pinned him to the ground and began clawing him, he screamed for help. Even as an Army Ranger he could not push off the figure. His Lamelar battle armor was hit twice before it became a cumbersome piece of cloth. I ran over. I was too late. The figure's claws sliced through Reel's gut like a chainsaw through tissue paper. I shoved off the private. I fired my M-4 four times and all for hit the figure hit them in the head. The figured bled for a few seconds but then sputtered and died. I kneeled over the private. I kept my hand over the newly opened hole in his stomach. His stomach felt like a slimy football. I yelled for a medic. When the medic got there, His name and rank was Corporal John Wallace, he stared with a grimace and clearly tried to hold back the vomit.

"There is nothing a field medic like myself can do. Luckily for him we're outside a hospital. Take this bandage and wrap it around the torso near the stomach like your taping a package. Make sure it is secure for we don't want his insides to ooze out," He spoke. I did as I was told and handed him over to a surgeon. That was the last I saw of him. I walked outside. There was a scream and hundreds of crazy rioters sprinted towards us.

Even with all our training the rioters were just too many. We all exchanged shots against the horde. A radio beeped on my headset, which meant all the soldiers were about to receive a message. There was a buzzing and a voice sounded on the headset. This is Colonel George Sanders. All companies fall back! However, alpha company lock the doors and hold the inside of the hospital at all costs! If survivors are able to reach you, they will be able to travel through the sewers. Zulu, load up the Humvees and head south east to apartments. From here you shall have a good Observation of the surrounding city. Companies, DEPLOY! I ran for the Humvee I was designated toride in. I boarded it with four other soldiers all of them, my squadmates.

I cocked the .50 caliber machinegun on top of the Humvee. I fired a short burst at the rioters who I now deemed zombies which tore them literally to pieces. There was large vibration and a large inhuman beast followed us. I fired the same three second burst I used on the other zombies. All it did was yell. It picked up a large piece of asphalt off the road. The beast then chucked it at us. It hit the humvee's left corner wheel and spun us out. Humvees can withstand bullets and on a few occasions RPG's but a slab of asphalt which stopped the wheel from spinning sent us spinning out of control. We hit a curb and flipped through the air. We landed in an apartment building. I had luckily ducked. As we went through a wall we landed normal. I stayed on the .50. I fired the entire box magazine into the behemoth. It eventually went down. I could not believe what had just happened. It took all 100 .50 caliber rounds which can tear a car or APC to pieces to finally take down the monster.

I scoured the humvee. The two soldiers in the front were dead. I removed their dogtags for identification and thought Sergeant Jacob Rodds and Private First Class David Johnson, you have done your duty, your war has ended. Please, rest in peace. One of the soldiers in the back was unconcious but luckily, he was against a door which could never be moved, and if I locked the door behind me he would be safe with his years worth of food and water. The last soldier, a man named Sergeant Matthew Reynolds had lost his mind.

"I am getting the hell outta here!" He yelled. He ran out of the humvee with only his 9 mm pistol. I never saw him again. I grabbed a week's worth of food and grabbed my M-4 with ten magazines and three frag grenades for dicey situations I walked up the stairs and opened a door. I could hear something going on. I stayed at the far right of the building. I stayed out of view until I saw a black, what appeared to be manager leap from the fire escape. He was followed by a biker. There was crashing, evidence of something big, probably another behemoth climbing up the escape. An old man wearing a green beret scrambled up, this was followed a yell.

"Francis!" a woman in what sounded like her 20's yelled. The biker held out his hand and caught something. He and the old man dragged up a 20 year old girl. She wore a red hoodie. They exchanged conversation when I stepped out out of the darkness.

"Having some difficulty?" I asked jokingly.

"Who the hell are you?!?" The biker asked.

Disclaimer: I don't own left 4 dead

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