L4D Backstory

    The room was dark, lit only by a lone bulb hanging by a wire from the ceiling. Two doors provided access in and out of the room, and both were barricaded shut with filing cabinets, their once important contents spilling out all over the floor. The room's furnishing was scant- a couple of chairs, a table with a wonky leg, a basic medi-cabinet and a variety of non-working appliances that were at one point used on a regular basis in this room, once part of a thriving office. If you had managed to gain access to the room, you probably wouldn't have noticed the lone figure sitting in a darkened corner, cigarette slowly smouldering in the corner of his mouth. If one angled the light for a better view, one could have mistaken the figure for someone's grandfather- if grandfathers wore shabby army uniforms, equipped themselves with pistols and assault rifles and were trained in the use of deadly firearms, that is.

    Lieutenant Colonel William Taylor sat silently, watching the door that led to the outside world, or 'the insanity' as he preferred to call it. Years in 'nam had made him a patient man, used to regulated procedures. His day folowed the same routine- awake, equip, enter the insanity. Top priority- survive. Secondary priorities- look for supplies, look for survivors, look for help. Lower priorities- eliminate any wretched soul under the grip of the infection. Return to safety. Barracade up. Sleep. that was it. For a week now Bill had carried out this procedure, and every day no survivivors and no help had been found. As much as Bill wanted to push out of the city, he was bound by supplies, safety and company; without one, there'd be no chance of survival. So, the routine. Over and over, for as long as it took to find someone. If ever.

    Bill sighed deeply. He'd seen some terrible and astounding things in his life, but nothing could have prepared him for this. Once the infection reached the mainland states, it spread with a ferosity not even he could have envisagened. Within a week chaos ruled, the healthy running around like headless chickens. Some like Bill kept their heads and holed up until the initial chaos ended- there was nothing an old war vetran could do to cure a viral infection. Sitting back, Bill remembered the first days, when no fortress had been found, when he was vulnerable. They weren't pleasant to say the lea... A distant noise suddenly caught the old soldier's attention. It wasn't a low moan or a rasping gasp of an infected, but neither was it background noise, of which the retired Lieutenant Colonel's ears had grown accustomed to. It was breathing.. short breaths... panicked. Bill frowned, getting up slowly, checking his old timepiece- it was approaching half past 8 in the evening, the time when the darkness was almost absolute. By now the sound was growing louder; it was definetly human, but then so too were the infected... but rapid, shallow breathing? He'd never heard that before. Shoving aside the cabinets, Bill kept his sences sharp and reached for his assult rifle. Switching on his flashlight, he slowly opened the door, quickly checking from side to side, gun ready. Swinging the light around slowly, Bill heard footsteps. Quick footsteps, heading his way.

"Stop right where you are and speak." Bill ordered sharply, gun pointed in the general direction of the noise. The footsteps stopped instantly, but no noise aside from breathing came forth.
"I said speak!" Bill snapped, "Or I'll put you out of your infected misery!"
"P..please.. d..do..don't sh..sh..shoot..." came a voice, trembling terribly. Feminine... Not infected. Not that it mattered, as Bill knew he was clearly immune. But still... he didn't fancy his face attacked by a mad infected he had let in by mistake
"Ok, I'm not going to shoot. Just come to the light, but don't enter yet." Bill held up the flashlight a little higher, and saw a slim figure approach the torch. It was indeed a girl, no older than early 20's, clad in jeans and pink sweatshirt, hair tied back in a loose ponytail. She was clutching a pistol, though Bill guessed she'd never fired it; firing guns at people was something that looked easy, but when made to do it.. well, that was a whole new kettle of fish. The girl reached the door, still panting, shaking all over. Bill raised a hand slowly to her forehead, checking for elevated temperature. Normal. Lowering his gun, Bill ushured the girl in, bolting the door behind them.
"Thank you..." muttered the girl, sitting down and clutching her legs, huddling up as Bill piled up the cabinets again.
"So, what's your name? And what the hell are you doing running around in the dark with only a pistol to your name?" Bill asked quietly, grunting as he heaved the cabinets back into position.
"I... I'm Zoey.. Z..Zoey Weatherbee. I'd been holed up over by the supermarket on Blackett Hill. I found this thing in the security office..." Zoey muttered, pointing to the pistol. "I haven't used it yet... they're still... they're still human... When they broke through I escaped through a small window in the bathroom. I just paniced, I didn't know what to do. It was dark, their rasps, their screams... I.. I..." Bill turned to see the girl's face collapse into her hands, sobbing. Sighing, he drew up a chair and put an arm round her.
"You're safe now. My name's Bill, I used to be in the US army, I know how to keep people safe. A lot of crazy shit has been going down recently, and we need to keep our heads, or we'll be as bad as them..." he muttered, sparing a brief look at the door. "Get some sleep, use my sleeping bag, it's in the corner. I've slept in worse places than this chair" he chuckled softly, "we can sort stuff out proper in the morning."  Zoey nodded, looking up, bleary eyed.
"Thanks Bill..." she muttered again, getting up and into the sleeping bag, collapsing straight to sleep. Bill slumped back into his chair, closing his eyes.
"First survivor saved. Let's just hope she's not the last..." he muttered quietly, drifting off to sleep.

to Chapter 2