I don't own Left 4 Dead and/or it's characters. The beautiful, brilliant brainy peoples at Valve do.
First time writing a Left 4 Dead fan-fiction. Hope you enjoy! Happy reading and please review! :)
Thank you to those who have faved, followed & reviewed.
I'm still continuing due to lack of reviews – hope you like this next chap! Belated nod to the Resident Evil movie back in Chapter 2. that gave me some of the inspiration for this fiction. That and The Walking Dead.
Sorry for the late delay, I've been ill and off college with a gastrointestinal which has been horrid. :( But I'm here, now with a new chapter! Reviews are most welcome, as ever I would love to know what you think!
Rated T
Drama / Adventure / Friendship
Zoey & Bill
English
Alive
Chapter Four
The first bullet whipped through the air with a whistle, tearing into the standee, splintering the wood as it impacted. The next several she fired off did the same. She unloaded more bullets at the cut out's head; managing three out of the fired four and at the heart; each one zipped through the cardboard and wood, leaving a hollow crash in the air.
Zoey held her weapon in her hand, hard enough so the kickback didn't knock it out of her small hands but weak enough so she wasn't gripping it whilst firing.
She moved her cast hand over her bent knuckles around the handle of the pistol. Steadying her aim, controlling her breathing as she fired the last one – emptying the chamber completely seeing the last bullet hit the standee right between the eyes.
"And that's the end of that chapter." Zoey smiled to herself at the ability to kill cardboard zombies despite her fractured wrist and cast making it harder to shoot.
She took her cast hand away from the gun and put the pistol down on the gun table. Currently sporting a wide array of military issue weapons from pistols, machine guns, shotguns and scoped hunting and sniping rifles.
She poked her finger into the cast joined between her thumb and pinkie finger, feeling it itchy as some hatred flickered into life within her at the damn cast getting in the way.
Sam clapped her hands together as she walked over to Zoey, removing some black ear protectors and shooting glasses. "Very good, I can see why you survived as you did." Sam gave a toothy grin then extended a finger at her new friend seeming to not get along with her wrist's cast. "Ah, ah! Stop that. You'll adjust the position of the cast." Samantha warned.
Zoey left the cast alone and looked over at her handiwork. "One limb down and still not bad." She pursed her lips and took a look at Sam, carefully choosing to repeat the doctor's earlier words.
Sam nodded. "I think you're good enough to teach the guys. Or to clean their weapons, set up the stands and all that jazz." The women exchanged a look then Zoey gave a slight frown.
"Didn't sign up for this to be someone's gun cage guy." She shook her head.
"I know." The doctor, who happened to be a fraction taller answered. "But if that's what it takes to teach, be all for it. Not to mention the guards don't trust new people much. Not to mention survivors and carriers."
Zoey nodded nonchalantly and cleared up her weapons and gear, deep in thought as memories swam within her mind. Savour the good times right? But sometimes remembering the good times hurt. Knowing that things will most unlikely not be returning to normal. But normal would be pretty good right now - what she wouldn't give to clean her father's gun to be ready for action. What she wouldn't give for one more faked sick day with her room mate watching yet another scary movie up to her eyes in unfinished due coursework and empty popcorn packets...
She sorted the guns to their allotted places upon the gun racks along the back wall, also bearing indentations in the foam for grenades, rocket launchers and all manner of fire-power and machinery intended to wreak bloody havoc and death upon the gathering hordes of zombies as each minute passed. Sam put away her protection gear away and put something on the desk. "Give these to your friend. They might cheer him up." The redhead said then left.
Zoey took one last look around the empty space, moving away from the long gun wall and small table, picking up the offered gift. She saw her cardboard victim close to the far wall, illuminated in the artificial lighting but half in shadow as Zoey peered over at it, lent on the ledge of the firing bench. Reminded of the one at the police station her father used to take her to so she could watch him shoot and give him praise when she was younger. It made her heart ache as sorrow washed over her. Sometimes it's best not to think of the good times.
Zoey made her way into the main, taking the spacious elevator up to the floor. She saw below the fake skyscraper image something similar to a garage door opened wide as a metallic truck with fat, wide wheels, with amour plating and a small blacked out wind screen split in two took her interest. The vehicle, tank like in appearance with an open back entrance door which door touched the floor.
She saw Bill suiting up with some others in some tactical uniforms outside the main and in the darkness that lay beyond.
She walked up to him, crossing the threshold into what looked like an underground tunnel where the armoured vehicle was parked outside of. "Getting ready to move out?" Zoey asked the older man.
Bill nodded in agreement, turning to look at the once college student.
"Here, Sam told me to give you these." Zoey handed Bill a full packet of cigarettes still with the wrapper on them.
"Not my brand. But God bless ya, kid." He patted her arm and pocketed the cigarettes, placing one in his mouth to light later.
"Just take care, old man." Zoey warmly spoke, her voice soft and riddled with concern with a gentle shake of head. She hugged Bill, moving her arm around his waist .
"Course I will, kid." He tapped a finger underneath her chin. "Look after 'em, Zoe', someone needs to." Bill answered the young dark haired woman.
Receiving an order from the driver and seeing the rest of the adventuring group move into the vehicle, Bill cast a look at Zoey.
"Gotta be off now. I'll see ya later. You won't even notice I'm gone." He gave her a nod and followed a couple of soldiers into the back of the truck.
"I doubt that, sir." Zoey said to herself, watching the armoured truck fire up as the driver put key into ignition. The back door closed as it rumbled into life being driven the length of the tunnel. She backed away into the main as she shutter door came down. The lights of the truck became non-existent then were blocked entirely from her view.
End of Chapter Four.
Hope you enjoyed! :D Please review!
I want to know your thoughts/suggestions and what you want to happen next!