Left 4 Dead – Fanfiction!

Part 2 of 2.

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They come fast. Running like rabid dogs toward the small shed. The grumbling has disappeared among the crazed screams and rabid growls of dozens of dark figures rushing towards them. Dried blood caked on their mouths. Limbs missing. Teeth broken and rotting. Eyes blank. No pupils. No life.

Bill rushes towards Francis and attempts to pull the slithering tongue from around his chest.

"Thing's too tight."

"Fuck, Bill, it's digging into my skin! Shit! AGH!"

A crack of bone. Bill looks around. Not enough time. The trees are bare. A coughing sound is close. Bill rushes towards the trees and sees a grotesque figure, face disfigured and mutated, smoke leaking though its mouth. Three shots. A dying cough.

The tongue loosens on Francis. Getting up fast, he takes the molotav and runs towards the shed, crowded with the undead.

"Throw it!" Zoey's voice can hardly be heard over the rapid gunfire. Several heads explode. Louis breaks the side window and shoves the glass out. "Come on, crawl in!"

Francis flicks a lighter and the damp rag grows into a small flame. One of them rushes at him, broken teeth bared and hands clawing at the air. Francis lays a right hook to the side of its face. A distinct snap can be heard as the zombie's head jolts to one side.

"Time to burn." Bill heads towards the window. Francis follows closely, chucking the molotav a few feet in front of the door. Several screams. Crackling of dead flesh. They do not stop.

Francis and Bill crawl through the open window and fall down to the cold ground. Francis holds his side. "Fuck, it's cracked."

"Here." Bill pulls a first aid kit from around his back.

The fire burns bright and illuminates the night. They see nothing but death. Cars lay along the road, some empty, some with bodies. More of the undead further along. Shambling aimlessly; no thought. No mind to speak of. Still, they have a purpose. One they have fulfilled.

The four of them sit against the walls of the shed, panting. Another battle won. Countless others to come. Trying to win a war that never ends.

"There, can you move your side?" Bill cuts a final piece of wrapping and pats Francis.
"Yeah, I'm good."

Zoey gets up and peers through the window once more. "Where'd the Boomer go?"

Louis looks at the roof of the shed. "And the Hunter."

The fire dies. Corpses litter the outside of the shed. The door remains half open. The four get up and stare outside. Zoey and Louis crouch and edge out the sides of the door. "Clear."

They stare down the empty road. A faint growling in the far distance.
Bill starts walking. "They'll be back."

The moon shines through the trees. Barren wilderness. The three others follow him. More will come.

They always do.

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If you don’t understand the context of which this story originates, you will not enjoy this story. See how I put this disclaimer after the end? Yeah, you just wasted your time. Don’t judge me.

ZOMBIES!