Disclaimer: I do not own Left 4 Dead, Valve does.
Author's Note: I will be shifting the Primary/Secondary Characters to whichever two survivors the current chapter is focused on.
Ties that Bind
By: Confused Confusion
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A Different Method of Bonding
Character Focus: Francis and Louis
Louis glanced around the small moving compartment with mixed emotions, unconsciously sizing up his new companions that were accompanying him through this particular trip through Hell. Two weeks…two weeks ago, everything had been fine. Granted, he was still stuck in his dead end job, but at least he wasn't desperately trying to cling to life while running from rabid humans. Seven days ago the virus had reached his office, and seven days ago he had taken his first life. He could still see the blood on his hands, no matter how hard he scrubbed and washed, he could still feel it there. After that point, things just moved in a blur, repeating the same flitting things: death, blood, destruction, and rage-filled eyes.
He wasn't sure how long it had been since they had come across each other, hours and days were starting to meld together. Louis was sure his dulled perception of time was a result from the lack of sleep he had endured for a majority of the outbreak. All he knew was that it had begun to rain the moment these three had found him, and outside the walls of the hospital…it still rained.
They were a ragtag bunch, no doubt about it. The crazy old war veteran, the sardonic college student, the foolhardy biker, and himself: the skittish businessman. Just thinking about it…none of them really had anything in common, with exception to the fact that they were all somehow immune to Green. They were all different in every possible way, how in the hell were they suppose to work together to get out of here? Louis was amazed that they had made it this far with their incompatibility, but somehow…they managed.
The businessman glanced at Zoey, who was staring at the green display with a mixture of impatience and anxiety as the number continued to rise. He couldn't really blame her, if the elevator truly went to the 28th floor, then they'd be just underneath the roof. Francis had quickly gotten bored with standing in silence, instead choosing to reload his firearms and check his ammunition. Louis noticed that out of all of them, the biker seemed the least affected by the sudden arrival of the apocalypse. Hell, the first time they had encountered a Tank, Francis hadn't even so much as flinched when an SUV was sent hurtling less that a meter past him. He had earned the title of "Badass," that much Louis was certain. Bill was quick to pull out a cigarette, as soon as the doors closed, in fact. The veteran had glanced at the "No Smoking" sign briefly before inhaling the nicotine. After the first puff, Bill had ripped the sign off the wall, thrown it to the floor, and popped the service door in the ceiling open to prevent the compartment from getting too smoky.
Louis fidgeted at the tense silence, no one had uttered a word other than Bill's "good work," after they had fought their way through a pack of Infected to just reach the elevator.
The businessman let out a nervous chuckle, catching the attention of his three companions. "Man, when we make it out of here, Zoey, Bill, I'm getting you both jobs!" Louis ignored the quizzical expressions on the two's faces, and turned toward the large man across from him. "Francis, I'm gonna teach your ass how to read!"
Zoey and Bill had snickered at the comment, but the biker had merely sent the businessman a look that clearly said 'Screw You,' accentuated by a rising of his middle fingers.
Little did he know that his innocent attempt at conversation had sparked an all-out brawl of words between Francis and himself. One that would last for the remainder of their journey…
Francis rubbed the back of neck with a grimace, the biker futilely trying to click his upper vertebra into place. Bending down, the large man picked up his discarded shotgun and spared a glance over his shoulder at the burning remains of the news chopper. Brown eyes narrowed into slits as the biker recalled the series of…well, crappy events that led them to their current predicament…
They had blasted their way through Fairfield…
Fought the grueling, pain-in-the-ass trek to Mercy's roof…
He had dropkicked a Boomer over the edge of the rooftop. Francis unconsciously grinned as he recalled that.
The pilot had circled around, picked them up, and still managed to avoid the Tank that had lunged off the building trying to catch the helicopter…
…Then shit started to go south…
Turns out the pilot was infected and literally turned on them while flying them to safety…
Zoey had been the quickest on the trigger; unfortunately the damn rounds she was using went right through the guy and into the controls…
Bill – thankfully – knew how to pilot a chopper, and was able to keep them from spinning out of control.
Sucks that they still ended up crashing, and from the looks of it, they didn't even make it out of goddamn Fairfield.
Francis growled in annoyance, feeling the urge to express his displeasure for their situation. His eyes locked onto the man that was sitting on a discarded crate, fiddling with his Uzi.
"Well, Mr. Positive…we just crashed, got anything positive to say to that?"
Louis glanced up, raising an eyebrow at the biker's agitated stare. "Well…we lived through it, didn't we?"
Francis opened his mouth to retort, but reluctantly shut it after noticing Bill's warning glare.
"Can we just get moving, please?" Zoey pleaded in an exasperated tone while pinching the bridge of her nose. Bill grunted his agreement, leaving little room for argument.
The survivors moved away from the wreckage, knowing full well that such a noisy crash would surely bring the Infected swarming, if it hadn't already. Knowing this, they certainly did not want to be anywhere near here when the horde arrived. Wandering down a dimly lit alley, Louis glanced around for any sign of useful graffiti.
"…Hey Francis…isn't this the alley you were born in?" Louis inquired casually, still glancing around the narrow space.
Francis snorted while moving to block the alley's exit. "Ha. Ha. Ha. This the one you wanna die in?"
The businessman raised his hands in defeat. "Alright, alright. Take it easy, I give."
Louis hopped off the boat, spinning on his heel to wave goodbye to John and Amanda as the small boat pushed away from the dock.
"Thanks for the info, guys. Stay safe out there and try not to die." John chuckled over the speaker.
"Same goes for you, brother." Francis smirked in return, nodded at the windowed cabin before turning toward the burning city before them. "So this is Newburg, eh? They need to fire their firefighters."
Bill cuffed him across the ear, "Don't be an ass, Francis."
"Oh, come on, Bill! Look at the place!" The biker growled out, unconsciously rubbing his stinging ear.
During their rather dull trip down the river, the survivors had used the time to get to know each other a little better, since it looked as if they'd be traveling in the same company for longer than expected. Zoey had explained her reasons for dropping out of college, her love of all things horror, and how she learned her uncanny skills with a hunting rifle. Bill hadn't divulged too much about himself, other than why he was always limping and that Vietnam was still worse than this. Francis…well Francis seemed a little too eager to share his "exploits" against both the police and society in general. Meanwhile, Louis had talked about his workplace and how he hated it, his hobbies prior to the outbreak, and his time spent at the gun range during lunch breaks.
"So, Francis…how long were you in prison, anyway?"
The biker shrugged and glanced at the younger survivor, "Depends, how many vampires have we killed?"
"Zombies." Zoey added with a sigh.
"Don't care," Francis nonchalantly shot back.
Louis gave the biker a strange look. "What does that have to do with anything?"
Francis patted the businessman's head as if he were chastising a child. "Everything, Louis…everything."
The dark-skinned survivor stared in confusion as the biker walked ahead of him. "What?"
Bill stepped up beside the dumbstruck survivor, scratching his beard in thought. "I think he's trying to confuse you."
"Sure as hell doing a good job." Louis muttered while running a hand over his bald cranium.
The group fell into silence as they exited the port and into the city. Burning skyscrapers littered the horizon, basking the sky in a flickering orange hue. Louis was unsure how much time had passed, but it wasn't until they had passed the first destroyed blockade that Francis began to sing…that's right…sing.
"One hundred bottles of beer on the wall, one hundred bottles of beer…kill a zombie, chug it downnnnnn. Oh, ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall!"
Zoey glanced at Bill. "Can I shoot him?"
The veteran snorted in amusement. "You first, I'll follow."
Francis continued humming, undeterred by the comments of his comrades. "Ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall, ninety-nine bottles of beer…kill a zombie, chug it down…ninety-eight bottles of beer on the wall!"
Louis sighed and rubbed his temples.
14 Minutes Later…
"Two bottles of beer on the wall, two bottles of beer…kill a Witch, chug it down! One last bottle of beer on the wall!"
Louis threw his hands into the air. "For the love of God! Will you please stop singing?"
Francis glanced at the peeved businessman with little interest. "No sir-ee, bob."
"One last bottle of beer on the wall, one more bottle of beer…light it up, chuck it at a Tank! One really dead Tank on the wall!"
The biker turned to meet the expecting stares of the other survivors. "What? You want me to sing it again?"
"No." They answered in unison.
Francis shrugged. "Suit yourselves."
Louis threw himself out of the open doorway, using every ounce of his willpower to resist the ever-growing urge to vomit. The businessman fell to his knees near the rooftop's edge, dry-heaving as sweat poured down his face. Zoey, who had remained outside of the greenhouse, inched away from the door as the vile stench dispersed into the outside air, mixing with the already apparent odor of smoke and ash. The brunette turned her vision away from the building and of Louis, unconsciously bringing a sleeved hand up to cover her mouth and nose. She knew what was in there; she could tell from Louis' reaction…it was plastered all over his face.
Bill and Francis slowly filed out of the greenhouse, somber expressions on their faces.
"Not a single one…" Bill murmured without meeting Louis' anxious – yet expecting – glance.
"All dead." Francis clarified impassively while gazing down at the large, orange 'HELP!' that was painted across the roof's surface.
Zoey shuddered and futilely attempted to bite back a sob, a tiny sound escaping from her throat as a result. Louis shook his head in disbelief, wiping his brow with a quivering hand.
"Surely there's gotta be at least one…" The businessman whispered while looking up, but was met by Francis' hard stare.
"It's a goddamn bloodbath in there, white collar, trust me. Don't take my word for it though; you're welcome to go look again for yourself."
"Francis…"
"Shut it, Bill! I can understand Zoey, she's still a kid," The comment was not opposed, the girl in question still looking away. "But Louis here is a goddamn adult, so he better start acting like one!"
Louis took a deep breath in a desperate bide to ease his nerves. "I'm still trying to get used to this kind of shit, Francis. It's just…it's just that it's hard to believe that humans could have done something like that…"
Francis groaned, "For the love of – they're not human!"
"They were human at one point!" Louis roared back.
Francis blinked in surprise, that was probably the first time the young businessman had ever snapped at…well…any of them.
"They were human, just like you and me, before shit hit the fan! They had friends, family, jobs, and dreams! You wouldn't understand that though, would you? Nope, not Francis! Not Mr. Inde – fucking - structable! Surely not the man who didn't have any friends or family, hell no!"
Louis' tirade was cut short as a gloved fist slammed into the side of his face, knocking the businessman off his feet.
"Alright, Francis, that's enough!" Bill ordered, swiftly moving in between the pair to prevent any further violence. By the greenhouse, Zoey cringed, having witnessed both the verbal and physical blows.
Francis remained silent; his fists still balled as hard brown eyes glared daggers at the fallen man. Seconds ticked by in tense silence as Louis struggled to clear his head.
"Listen here, Louis," The businessman's name spat out of the biker's mouth like venom. "Don't ever assume about what I did and didn't have…or about what I have and haven't lost."
Bill squared his shoulders, "I said that's enough, Fran-"
A white blur shot past Bill before the veteran could finish, a dark-skinned fist crashing into Francis' chin. The force of the blow had the biker turned at the waist, his head dipped low, leaving his face unreadable from Bill's angle. Louis stood before the larger survivor, panting while nursing his now-battered hand.
Slowly – and almost frighteningly – Francis stood straight, eyeing the younger man with a cold stare. Turning his head to the side, the biker spat out a mouthful of crimson before turning his gaze back to Louis.
Bill and Zoey stood in edgy silence, fully aware of what was about to happen to Louis.
Unexpectedly, a smirk slowly made its way to Francis' lips. A chuckle followed shortly after, leaving his companions in shock. "Not bad, not bad…for a chicken shit, that is."
Louis, still looking like a cornered animal, nodded his head in acknowledgement. "Damn right."
Francis moved back toward the greenhouse casually. "Come on, let's hurry up and find a way out of this dump."
Louis followed suit wordlessly, leaving Zoey and Bill to gape at their retreating backs.
"The hell did we just witness?"
"…I have no idea."
Zoey shook her head and jogged through the door, pointedly ignoring the massacre she had to step past to do so. Catching up with her two companions, the brunette shot them a weird look. "So…are either of you going to explain what that was back there?"
Francis shrugged, as if it were the simplest thing in the world.
"We were bonding."
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A/N: A semi-frequent update? I know…it surprised even me. This chapter really goes without too much say. The basis of Francis' and Louis' relationship is insults and general mockery. I was originally going to do an all out insult war between the two…but that was replaced in the middle of being written when I got to the greenhouse scene. Hands sort of took over from that point and viola! Granted, this chapter was a little on the short side, but I'm trying to stay away from massive content-filled chapter (15+ pages). I have fun with them…but they just tend to stretch over several months at a time.
As for the Beer Song…it is a legitimate, Zombie Apocalypse song, and (God forbid) if the ZA ever occurs, I expect someone to sing it while out zombie-killing.
Up Next: Louis – Zoey (I know, I'm bum-rushing the Louis chapters, but only because I have big plans for the remaining two. To get to them, I need to get this one out of the way first.)
As always, reviews and feedback are appreciated.
- C.C.