At long, long last it is here! The final chapter of Guardian! I am so, so sorry about making all of you wait this long for it, but my life has been rife with challenges and adjustments, as I moved off to college and various other problems I mentioned in the first chapter of L4D Brawls.

Anyway. I'd just like to extend a huge thank-you to all those who've bothered to read this and especially those who've left a review. I love all of you, and seeing all of your reviews has been fantastic. It's been one hell of a ride, and at several points I honestly had no idea where this story was going, but here we are. The final chapter. I hope you're all ready, and remember to keep your hands, arms and legs inside the vehicle at all times.

-O-

"Shit! Shit!" Francis cursed beside me as he half-ran, half-slid down the muddy slope. I could still hear gunfire behind me, and when I glanced behind me the horizon was stained a frightening red-orange. So the sons of bitches managed to set their own camp on fire. Good.

My calves were burning, but I forced myself to keep running, my heart thudding in my chest and my breath coming in gasps. After surviving a zombie apocalypse, I was in pretty damn good shape, but the past few days of constant strife and little sleep had worn me down. I could hear Francis panting beside me as he ran, and I knew Bill and Louis couldn't have been much better off.

Casting another glance over my shoulder, I saw our two companions coming down the hill after us, Louis helping the wounded 'Nam vet along. My heart roared in my ears, and every second I expected an attack helicopter or a humvee to crest the hill and open up, the large-caliber bullets tearing us apart like cheese through a grater.

No, I sternly told myself. Quit thinking like that. You're going to make it out of this. You all are.

The ground was leveling out in front of us, a broad swath of pine trees beckoning, the promise of relative safety evident in their enveloping branches. Just a little farther. Just a little-…

"Son of a bitch!" Bill yelled. "Incoming!"

I whirled at his shout, and my blood turned to ice in my veins. Charging down the hill at us, bellowing and shaking the ground as it came, was a Tank.

I scrabbled for a weapon, but came up with nothing. Apparently I'd lost my pistol in the frantic escape from the river.

No. No, no, no, no. Not like this. My mind raced frantically, and I took a few steps backward, fear clutching at my heart. I heard Bill's assault rifle open up, but the Tank hardly slowed as it was peppered with bullets. Louis started taking potshots with his pistol, but Bill shoved him toward the rest of us, planting his feet and taking more careful aim.

My eyes widened involuntarily. I could see it in the look on his face, in the fell gleam in his eyes - Bill was going to sacrifice himself to save us. Over the course of the infection, he had become like a father to me, although he could never truly replace the one I'd had before. And now… now he was going to kill himself to save me.

Hot trails of moisture stung my cheeks, and I started forward at a sprint towards the old vet. First Francis, and now Bill. I'd had enough of people throwing themselves in harm's way to protect me. I wasn't going to let myself be the damsel in distress anymore. That was the old me. Time to show everyone the new me.

The ground was slipperier than I thought, and I almost careened into Bill as I skidded to a halt. "Come on!" I screamed over the roar of his assault rifle, grabbing him by the arm and hauling.

"Goddamn it, Zoey!" Bill yelled back, sparing a glance from the Tank bearing down on him to look at me. "Just get the hell out of-…"

The Tank was no more than thirty feet from us, and I didn't have time for this bullshit. Pulling back a fist, I did something I never, ever thought I would do - I slugged Bill across the jaw.

Now, I have never lifted weights in my life, and didn't have the strength or the training to land a decent punch. But the blow sure as hell startled him, and got my point across. "Come with me, or I'm staying with you," I snarled in a voice far more dangerous and authoritative than I ever thought I could pull off, and Bill obliged.

Together, we tore back across the muddy grass towards where Francis and Louis were standing. Louis was shooting with his pistol, and Francis, bereft of weapons, just stood there looking stricken and indecisive. "Run!" I yelled, and both of them turned and pelted into the woods, Bill and I hot on their heels.

-O-

"It's still following us!" Louis yelled from somewhere ahead of me. I couldn't see more than five feet in this prison of clutching branches, and for a moment I wondered whether or not coming in here was a good idea. Pine needles pricked at my skin and caught in my clothes, and several times I almost tripped on some unseen obstacle.

Then I exploded from the trees into a large clearing littered with the stumps of felled trees. A cabin of some sort squatted in the middle of it, and ahead of me I could see Francis break into a sprint, his huge arms pumping as he tore across the mat of pine needles. I didn't have time to search for whatever it was that had caught his attention, however, as the tank burst from the trees behind us, roaring in triumph as it caught sight of its prey.

My lungs burned, every inch of my body ached, and my heart seemed as if it was about to explode from my chest, but I brutally forced myself to keep going. I wasn't sure I even could stop - my legs had acquired a rhythm all their own, pounding the needles underfoot almost without my conscious control.

Then my foot caught on a tree stump and I pitched forward with a startled yelp. The pine needles made for a soft landing, but my body screamed in protest as I started trying to haul myself to my feet. Bill was standing next to me protectively, cutting loose with his rifle again, and I managed to croak "Move, old man!"

He spared me a startled glance, then his jaw hardened and he shook his head. Not a fool, he could tell that I wouldn't be going anywhere any time soon, and was apparently determined to make his final stand watching over me.

Screw final stands.

Summoning up some inner reserve of strength I didn't know I had, I pushed myself to my feet, took two shaky steps towards Bill, planted my hands on his shoulders and shoved. "GO!" I screamed, my voice raw and hoarse. Bill staggered backwards, conflicting emotions running rampant across his grizzled countenance. Then something connected with my back with roughly the force of a runaway semi truck.

I hit the ground awkwardly, bouncing and rolling to a halt amidst the tree stumps and managing not to slam into any of them, thank god. My head spun, my back felt like it had been used as a trampoline by a herd of elephants, and I felt like I was going to be sick. Spitting pine needles, I managed to crawl forward a few inches on my stomach, then rolled over onto my back, wincing as the abused flesh came into contact with the ground.

I could see the tank charging towards me, coming to finish the job. Bill was chasing after it, holding his assault rifle like a club. Apparently he'd run out of bullets. The tank bore down upon me like all four horsemen of the Apocalypse, and I feebly tried to crawl backwards away from it. It loomed huge in my vision, blotting out the thin, feeble moon, and I raised my hands in a pathetic, reflexive attempt to shield myself.

Then something else filled my vision, something large and menacing but definitely human. My own personal guardian angel appeared from nowhere, skidding to a halt in the pine needles and hefting a wood-chipping axe like a Viking battleaxe. "Francis…" I breathed, my heart nearly stopping.

"Come on, bitch," Francis growled as the tank neared him. "To get to her, you go through me."

Hot tears stung my eyes, and I blinked them away. How had this happened? I was supposed to be the hero here, dammit. And now here was Francis, throwing his life away for me again. The tank raised its huge fists over its head as it approached, a bellow of rage escaping its throat.

Then Bill swung his rifle, catching the tank right in the back of the knee. Overbalanced with its hands up in the air, the muscle-bound monstrosity pitched forwards, and Francis had to leap backwards to avoid being crushed. The tank got its massive arms beneath it, and started to push itself to its feet, just as Francis's axe whistled downward like a thunderbolt from the heavens.

Five pounds of steel and almost three-hundred more of pissed-off muscle propelled the honed blade downward with the force of a thunderbolt, biting into the tank's deformed skull and cleaving straight through it. The axe head lodged in the tank's chest, and the huge beast slumped back to the ground again, its roar trailing off into a grumbling sigh.

For a long moment I just lay there unmoving, staring at the huge beast that had come so close to ending my life. Then Francis abandoned his axe and knelt beside me, wrapping one powerful arm around my shoulders. "Can you stand?" he murmured, and I shook my head wordlessly, still dumbstruck. At that point, I didn't think I could move at all.

Leaning in and planting a tender kiss on my forehead, his rough goatee scratching at my eyebrows, he snaked his other arm under my knees and hoisted me from the ground. The feminine part of my brain swooned a little - I was pretty skinny, especially after running from zombies for more than three weeks, but I still weighed a good hundred-and-twenty pounds, and Francis hefted me with casual ease.

My eyelids felt leaden, the throbbing ache in my back nearly overpowering me. God, but I was tired. "Zoey!" I heard Bill yell, and I managed to roll my head a little to the side to look at him. Trying to put on a smile, I muttered "I'm gonna be fine, Bill," and then rested my head on Francis's chest once more.

"Where's Louis?" Francis suddenly asked, and a spike of fear drove itself through my fogged brain. Had he been attacked while we were fighting the tank? Had a hunter got him while we were distracted?

No sooner had these panicked thoughts flitted through my brain, however, than I heard Louis's voice. "They're over here, ma'am!"

I blinked, my weary brain attempting to make sense of what it had just heard. Who had Louis been talking to? Certainly not anyone from PURGE, they would have just shot him on sight.

Francis turned to look, and inadvertently jostled my wounded back. I must have whimpered or made some noise because Francis instantly looked down at me with an expression of worry verging on panic. "You okay, babe?" he murmured, and I managed to give him a smile and a weak nod.

Then I heard a woman's voice, strong and confident. "Holy hell! You said they were being attacked by a tank, not murdering it!"

Tearing my gaze from the biker holding me, I looked in the direction the voices had come from, and my eyes fell upon four people, two men and two women, following Louis out of the woods. The woman in the lead wore a tattered and stained police uniform, complete with a bulletproof vest and combat boots, and with the addition of elbow-length leather bracers and a leather gorget around her neck. Her mid-length fiery-red hair was pulled back in a ponytail behind her head, and her eyes glittered with life and intelligence.

Louis was grinning unabashedly, and at the policewoman's comment his smile only grew wider. "With these three, ma'am, it's almost the same thing," he said, and I felt a smile of my own start tugging at my cheeks.

Bill stepped forward to intercept the newcomers, but paused before he could introduce himself. "Where the hell did you run off to, Louis?" he asked, planting his fists on his hips.

Louis looked away, rubbing at the back of his neck awkwardly. "Well, you see… a smoker grabbed me while you three were fighting the tank, and dragged me into the woods. I would have died if these four hadn't stumbled across me. I told them about you and brought them back here to save you, but… well, I see that you did just fine by yourselves."

Turning away from his companion, Bill extended a hand to the policewoman, his face breaking out into a smile. "Sergeant William Overbeck at your service, ma'am," he said, and the policewoman took his hand and shook it. "Captain Emily Watson, at yours," she said. "My group and I were out on patrol when your friend bumped into us.

"Out on patrol? From where?" Francis asked, and Captain Watson spared a glance his way.

"Why, New Columbus, of course," she said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "The immune city? You haven't heard of us?"

I looked up at Francis, and he met my gaze, a grin spreading across his normally dour features. "Did you hear that, babe?" he murmured, eyes glimmering. "The immune city! We've found it! Goddamn, but Louis was right! We're finally safe!"

I felt myself grinning back, and snuggled deeper into Francis's broad chest. "With you around, Francis," I murmured, letting my eyes fall closed, "I've always been safe."