I do not own Left for Dead or Left for Dead 2, only this fanfic!
You'd love me to say 'it was a normal day', wouldn't you? That would be the cherry on the cake, I guess. Well, it wasn't a normal day, so there- god, even through this…this apocalypse, I've still been able to retain a childish sense of humour, however disturbed that may be.
The infection had already broken out. I was in my small apartment doing some work, listening to the radio, when I heard screams from outside. Now, even through the infection had grown after the last week, we were told it was all under control and not to worry. Even though I saw evac trucks every morning on the way to the office. Even though I noticed I saw no familiar faces in the broadcasting department. The newsreaders had gone, the talkshow hosts had gone, the lead actors and actresses in the soaps had gone. There were rumours. People said they had got ill, they had taken a train up North, they had gone on holiday…however people explained their absence, it didn't stop any of us noticing that helicopter blades could be heard whirring on the roof of the ZDL TV skyscraper. Day after day, until three days ago, when all the employees left were told to work from home while maintenance was being carried out on the building.
I suppose since that day things began to become slightly abnormal. I would walk down to the store, and the cashier would have changed. Rick was no where to be seen, and no-one knew where the friendliest shelf stacker I knew, Carlos, had gone. People were disappearing. I stopped going out. I stayed in my apartment, phoning people instead of meeting up in the coffee house to discuss deadlines. Amanda and Jesse stopped coming round for lunch on Sunday. They love their old mom's lunches, so that's when I started to move around more, a doubt forming in the pits of my mind. I brought out canned food, found my last boyfriend's biker boots, unearthed the gun my ex husband had given me last year as a birthday present. I found my favourite wool jacket. I wore jeans more. I stopped putting on make up, and I pulled out every first aid bit of equipment I could find. I didn't know what I was doing then, but now…thank god for that little instinct I had all but forgotten about. That little survival twinge that kept me on my feet. Because on that morning when I heard those screams, it was like being in a dream. I knew exactly what to do.
The boots were on, my mobile in my pocket, Jesse's old ice hockey stick in my hands, my gun in the cowboy dress up holster I had worn last Halloween, canned food in my backpack, first aid kit in my backpack, a small photo of me, Jesse, Amanda and Lewis in my pocket, and three pairs of fresh underwear.
My name is Josie, I'm a divorced mom, I have three children and I'm 42 - and I am not ready to die. Not without taking a couple of hell bound bastards with me.
R & R appreciated! BP