DISCLAIMER: Left 4 Dead is not my property. Valve owns it. However, I am rather good at being a terrible team mate.

Bill rubbed his weary eyes with his left hand, his right remained firmly gripping his M16A3. The grizzled veteran stretched his sore muscles before glancing out over the ruined city. Trying to shake of fatigue as much as he could, he reminded himself that it was almost over. Once this chopper arrives and whisks me away, he reminded himself as he glanced towards his erstwhile comrades, I will never have to deal with these bastards again…

It had seemed like a good idea. Join up with another three survivors and attempt to get to the hospital. Fight the infected. Flee the city. Unfortunately, it all went FUBAR right about at that point…

"-kaff-Need to heal…" Bill said, covering a rather ugly gash across his abdomen with his free hand. Staggering towards a table, he reached towards the first aid kit. Suddenly, his limping form was elbowed aside and the kit was taken.

"What the fuck?!" Bill said, glaring at the thief. Francis was busily applying the life-saving bandages to what appeared to what appeared to be, in Bill's eye, a really nasty papercut, or perhaps a scratch from the most pathetic zombie ever.

"Hey, old man! A guy's gotta heal!" The biker growled, before turning and, with his shotgun, once more entering the breach. The sounds of zombie moans mixed with the distinctive boom of the gun, and blood and gore sprayed around the hallway.

How can somebody use an entire first aid kit to patch up a tiny scrape on their forearm? Bill ruminated as glanced back at the discarded red case. Sighing, he limped back into formation with the rest of the survivors, hoping that the coughing spree he was on was due to his decades of chain smoking, rather than any internal injuries.

"Hey, take some painkillers!" Louis shouted. Bill sighed. Treating only the symptoms rather than the cause, for temporary relief only, and probably addictive, they weren't the best solution to his problems. But hey, beggars can't be choosers... he thought. Bill smiled a bit. Fucking IT guy might be completely useless in a firefight, and nowhere near as calm enough to last through a zombie apocalypse, but at least he knows who really needs help…

"Oh, thanks Louis…" Zoey said, taking the pills. Snapped once more into reality, Bill's jaw dropped as the college student downed the entire bottle, flicking the empty husk over her shoulder. As she walked down the body strewn hallway behind Francis, Bill glared at Louis.

"I could've used those pills a lot more than her…"

"Yeah, but you aren't exactly the kind of person I could repopulate the earth with…" Louis said, a lewd grin on his face. Falling into line, Bill glared hard at him, his fingers tightening on the assault rifle…

Fuck it…I didn't frag anyone in 'Nam, might as well not start now…Bill thought as he covered the group's rear. Besides, Louis kinda had a point…But how in the world did Zoey take all those pills without OD'ing? Must be a college kid thing…

"Hey look guys! Zoey's having a seizure!"

I stand corrected…

"Guys? A little help here!" Zoey yelled, trying desperately to free herself from the obscenely long strand of tissue that was currently garroting her. Her attempts failed as the "smoker" began to drag her up the side of the building to where it stood.

With one quick, expertly trained burst, Bill nailed the infected in the face. With a burst of smog signaling his demise, the creature's tongue suddenly relaxed, dropping the student unceremoniously onto the pavement. Those normal zombies, after a while you get accustomed to them… but these freaks… how the hell does rabies do that to a person? Bill thought, glaring at the now useless tongue.

"-kaff- Thanks…" Zoey said, before rushing to catch up to the rest of the team. Suddenly, she fell to the ground, yet another freak attacking her. The "hunter", as the survivors had taken to calling them, began to swipe viciously, before getting the butt of Bill's rifle slammed into its face. With a quick burst of his M16, accompanied by a hail of bullets from Zoey's handguns, the creature collapse.

"Thanks again…" Zoey said, waving away Bill's hand as she got up on her own.

"Guys! Boomer!" Louis yelled. Grimacing at yet another freak to contest with, Bill and Zoey backed away from the obese freak. Too close… if we kill it here, we'll get sprayed with that stuff…

Hearing the loud sound of a shotgun being cocked, Bill turned in time to see Francis shoulder the weapon. Francis…you suck…


"Eww… got some of in my eye…" Zoey said. Bill blinked repeatedly, trying to clear his own vision…

"Aw shit!" emanated from Francis. Bill didn't even need to see to now where the zombies were coming from. The trampling of the hoard was from everywhere at once. 'Aw shit' indeed…

Five minutes later, Bill carefully stepped over the corpses. His vision had returned, apparently so had Zoey's. Surveying the carnage, she said "Aw man… this is just like a movie…"

Bill sighed, lighting a smoke. Apparently while at college, this girl had majored in Romero, with minors in Fulci and Carpenter. Kids these days…


Bill glared at Zoey. Yet another goddman hunter was on top of her. Drawing a bead, Bill sent another group of bullets straight through the freak's brainpan.

Zoey shoved the creature off and staggered to her feet. "That's another one I owe ya'." She said, a relieved grin on her face. She stumbled a bit. Bill grimaced. Francis and Louis really should've been more conservative, first aid supplies would've been really useful right now. To prevent a fall, Zoey leaned against a nearby sedan.

The piercing shriek of the car's anti-theft device shook Bill from his thoughts. As Francis, Zoey, and Louis once again tightened up their formation, the moaning of the horde once again filled the night's silence.

You have got to be fucking kidding me… Suddenly, a tongue wrapped around Bill's throat. 'Nother smoker… What the hell? Is some sort of supreme being just hanging around, seeing us do well, and deciding to send more fucking zombies?

"Guys…" Bill yelled to his team.

"We're kinda busy, Old man!" Francis shouted back, smashing a zombie across the face before taking its head clean off with a shotgun blast.

With a quick burst, Bill managed to take out the smoker before it could drag him away. Unwinding the creature's tongue from his throat, he glanced at the rest of his team. Suddenly, a cold hand grasped his shoulder. "Fuck you!" the veteran screamed as he unloaded into the horde that started to surround him.

A sharp pain enveloped his shoulder. Kicking a zombie away, Bill looked down at a bullet hole. Glancing back at the team, Bill grimaced as Louis was trying to save him by indiscriminately unloading an Uzi, rapid fire, at his general direction. Fending off zombies while watching out for bullets was hard work, and Bill breathed a sigh of relief when it appeared that Louis's Uzi was out of ammunition. Focusing on breaking out of the mob encircling him, Bill was shook by the cry of "Fire in the hole!" Bill twisted in time to see the Molotov that Louis had lobbed coming down.


In the end, Bill managed to escape with fairly minor burns. That is, fairly minor burns for a man who had been doused in gasoline and broken glass. The horde was mopped up, and the survivors began to head onwards. Proceeding onwards, Bill heard Zoey exclaim "…Man, guys, think it's over?"

Without looking, Bill emptied the rest of his clip in Zoey's general direction. Turning around to survey the seen, he saw Zoey angrily glare at him. "What the fuck was that about?"

Wordlessly, Bill pointed behind Zoey, to yet another hunter corpse. Surprised, Zoey began to ask "How did you…"

With a grin, Bill said, "Intuition". Turning, he continued forward, proud of himself.

"Hunter! Hunter!"

Stopped dead in his tracks, Bill readied his weapon. He resolved that one day, he would find that supreme being who decided to fuck with the survivor's hopes and dreams. And on that day, he'd aim for the crotch…

They continued their journey. Francis continued to be both a great zombie killer and a terrible team player, Louis continued to waste ammo, explosives, and medical supplies, and Zoey continued to serve as a target for every long-tongued, hoodie-wearing, or morbidly obese superzombie in the city. For his part, Bill kept his cool trying to hide his disdain as well as he could.

They were the sewers. The survivors continued, until they heard a distinct sobbing, one that would've instilled sympathy in the cruelest of hearts. But the survivors knew what was making the sound, and proceeded with caution. In front of them, Bill could see the kneeling form of the witch. She hadn't noticed them.

Bill glanced to either side. They had to continue, but there seemed to be no way of bypassing her. Grimacing, he turned to his team. "Okay. Guess we have to fight her. Alright. I'm gonna draw her attention then run, and when she goes after me, the rest of you open up. Understood?" The last part was directed at Francis. For his part, even the biker was unwilling to shoot first and as questions later with this caliber of opponent.

Slowly, carefully Bill crept forward, avoiding any sudden movements as he approached the witch. Bill furrowed his brow as the tension mounted, the veteran realizing that any false moves would likely be his last. Taking a deep breath, Bill was beginning to wonder if, in the dark, the witch had noticed his approach. The anticipation was nerve-wracking.

"Bill hurry up..." Louis said under his breath. That was the last straw, as Bill whipped around to face his team.

"Christ Louis, I know what I'm doing! You worry about shooting this goddamn freak!" Bill yelled back, angrily gesturing towards the witch. Then, realizing the error he committed, he glanced over his shoulder.

A demon's gaze met his…


They were in the hospital. Dark, abandoned, and creepy, Bill felt as if every nightmare he'd ever had since the war was taking place in this hellish infirmary. Suddenly, he heard a dull thud. And another. The survivors bunched up. The wall behind them buckled and collapsed. The Tank growled, pounded the ground, spoiled for a fight.

Their formation split apart as a slab of the floor was chucked at them. Shooting and running, the survivors split up, until Lewis shouted. "Safe room! Guys, inside!"

The rush was uncoordinated. The survivors ducked and weaved, trying to get inside the sanctuary while the Tank smashed everything in its path. Slamming the door and bolting it shut, Francis leaned against it. Panting heavily, he grinned. "What now, jackass? Can't get us in here!"

"…uh guys? Where's Bill?" Zoey said. The sound of a M16, mixed with the annoyed growls of the Tank confirmed his location.

Bill was doing an alright job fending off the massive beast, running through hallways and firing behind him whenever he heard a nearby wall get smashed down. However, his age and injuries began to slow him down, and eventually the tank caught up with him. With a massive swing, the creature threw the old man across the room. Staggering to his feet, leaning against the wall to remain standing, Bill gritted his teeth as he squeezed the trigger again.


Motherfucker… Bill thought as he dropped the rifle. Unholstering his handgun, he leveled it at the Tank's face. "C'mon."

The tank charged. The monster rushed as Bill opened fire. It had crossed the halfway point when the rest of the team burst in on the scene and began shooting. At five feet, the magazine of Bill's pistol was empty. At two feet, the monster staggered. It dropped to his knees and fell forwards; Bill struggled to shove the massive body off. The rest of the team ran over to him and helped.

"Alright, memo for fucking next time, make sure everyone's in the room before you close the goddamn door…" Bill scowled as Zoey patched him up.

"Yer welcome" Francis said with a sarcastic grin.

Taking a drag on his cigarette, Bill turned around as the rest of the crew loaded up. They had all managed to fight to the roof. They were now armed to the teeth and ready for evac. Bill had intended to radio the pilot, but had relented when Francis voiced the fact that he apparently wasn't happy being the group's self appointed pointman and dictator, but also had to make that call.

Sighing, Bill glanced at the night sky. Perhaps they aren't so bad after all, the grizzled vet thought. After all, we've survived. Hell, maybe if Francis wasn't as vicious, or Louis was stingy with his shots, or Zoey didn't seem to be targeted by every goddamn monster, the zombie's would've got to me. Hell, I might learn to like these bastards yet.

"It… it's finally over…" Bill heard Zoey exclaim. Apparently, that sadistic supreme being heard it as well, since as if on cue, howls, shrieks, and moans that seemed to come from the depths of hell itself began to approach the survivors.

Then again… Bill grimaced, raising his rifle, …maybe not.

Author's Note: A little bit of new territory for me. Slightly less off the wall, based more on things I've actually seen happen in the game. BTW, most of the time it's me igniting my teammates and getting pounced on by the hunters, so this isn't a bash against people who aren't good at that game, just a bit of humor based on how a game that's supposed to be all about teamwork usually involves self-serving, incompetent, or unlucky players messing up the rest of the team.