Don't leave me....

1st November 2008: First signs of infection

Two weeks later and I'm running down a flight of stairs behind my three surviving friends. Behind us we can hear a distincly inhuman moan. And footsteps. Lots of footsteps. I turn and fire a couple of rounds into the dark of the corridor, the flashes illuminating the horror behind us. Zombies. Hundreds of fucking zombies.

We pile through a door, closing it behind us. Navio, a black business man from Detroit levels his shotgun at the door, waiting. Miniman, the vietnam vet. reloads his submachine gun masterfully and then aims at roughly where the heads of the zombies behind the door should be. Trippy, a sassy female student wraps a bandage around a cut on her wrist and then retrieves her rifle. I, Fryingpan, a local biker, grab a second pistol. And wait. It starts slowly, scratch scratch. Then thudding, undead hands pumelling the door.

And then the inevitable crash as part of the door splinters away. Rotting hands thrust through and all hell breaks loose. I fire blindly into the hole in the door, knowing that any second they would be through. We could run, but they would catch us up somehow, so we stand our ground.

The door splinters completely, the undead rushing through, enraged by the smell of us. One rushed me, arms stretching for my face, my eyes, my cheeks. I pistol whip it(her? him?) and fire off two rounds into its face, dropping it. Another rushes from the side, I blindly fire at its chest, only slowing it. It gets up to me and swings widely, ripping my jacket. And then its head explodes as Navio saves me once again. I mutter a thanks and continue with the bloody work.

The last of the horde drops to the ground and we all breath a sigh of relief. And then Trippy screams. And stops screaming just as abruptly. Around her neck is the tongue of a tall shadow above is in the rafters. Navio and Miniman fire openly at it, until a growl and and a thud result in Miniman being tackled by a hunter. It tears through the old mans shirt and rips him open. Miniman dies almost instantly. I blast the hunter from point blank in the back of the head, sprawling it across the floor. A crack! Trippy's neck snaps and she goes limp. Navio looks at me and his gaze shifts to over my shoulder. A look enters his eye as he raises his trusty shottie once again. I sidestep and run forwards and feel the force of an explosion hit my shoulders. Luckily, the Boomer spit/guts/whatever didn't hit me too badly. Hopefully the horde can't smell it.

The two of us made our way outside into the rain. Why is it always raining? Down the alley, past derelict cars and rubbish, we can see a small hunched figure. A young girl cowers in the alley, ears covered, letting out a soft sob. We know we are screwed now. She is right in our path. Navio glances at me furtively. He is bleeding out and he knows it. Before I can stop him, he has lit a molotov and is rushing the Witch, for that is what this girl is, a sexy teenage zombie who will kill you as soon as look at you. Navio throws the molotov, it explodes in a celestial light, flame engulfing him and the Witch. I stare for a second, and then run on, hoping Navio's sacrifice to not be in vain.

I hear a scream. And then silence.

I make it out of the alley onto the main road. Mindless horde stagger about, not really paying me any special attention. I keep my distance and they don't bother me. I see a subway, probably safer then the surface and I leg it towards the entrance, brushing past zombies. Nearing the enterance, a lurches infront of me, panickedly, I shoot, missing and hitting the car sitting nearby. Fuck. The cars alarm screeches in the night air. The horde waken from their daze and rush towards me, arms flailing, teeth bared. And yet they stare with cold, dead eyes.

I leap ontop of the offending car, hoping to not get swamped. This works, but only for a second, the horde find it difficult to clamber up. My pistols clips run dry within a bullet of eachother. I kick, punch, headbutt, all while trying to reaload. Everything shakes. Everything goes quiet. The horde stop motionless in their tracks. The car beneath me shakes again. I turn, looking for where it's coming from. I can't see much in the shadows.

But it is the shadow making the vibrations.

An 8 foot lump of flesh rushes towards me, I manage to reload one pistol before he reaches me and fire off a round or two in desperation. Suddenly I'm flying. Beneath me, horde stare up, hungrily. Everything seems to have slowed down. I can see the huge Tank-like zombie moving towards me. My life seems to flash before my eyes. The flight ends against a brick wall. My head wiplashes against it and I can feel the warmth of blood on my scalp.

My vision has blurred but I still look up. Slouched at the bottom of the wall, I smile, looking at my pistol. The horde rush towards me. I lift the pistol, fire three bullets, hitting three heads. The last my own.

*****************

Yeah yeah depressing, but what the hell. This is sort of an idea of what Left 4 Dead would be like, was it a novel(la) I guess. Left 4 Dead is amazing, atmospheric and still very social, without your friends, you're screwed.

Every PC gamer worth his or her salt should ATLEAST try the demo, if not get the game. Heck, even 360 gamers should give it a whirl.

Can't wait for it Nov 18th.

Pan