L4D: Mana

Chapter 1: Patient Zero pt. 1

My parents wouldn't believe me when I showed them the news. The green flu was here and I was dead right as to what it was. Someone had it out for the West. Biowarfare was in full effect. They combined influenza with rabies and added some other things to allow for mutations. The perfect storm was born, rabies forced a victim into low brain function. The symptoms of rabies were heightened. Photosensitivity, hydrophobia, extremely high fevers, excess adrenaline, and destruction of the "friend or foe" center of the brain. Coupled with the constant need to bite and gnaw like a teething toddler. While the flu proteins made it possible for an infected to last months or years before the sickness itself causes death. My parents didn't believe me. They laughed, they yelled, they took away my games and computer saying "you're watching too many videos." Then it got to us. It was difficult not to say I told you so. First, there were warnings of groups of violent people attacking all over town. Then, police ordered everyone to stay in their homes. Next, the CDC issued a class 3 outbreak alert. Finally, one of THEM attacked us. It used to be our neighbor, but now it was no longer human. As soon as it tried to bite my mom, I knew what it was and did what I knew was right. I put him out of his misery. We were preparing dinner when it happened so I had a frying pan with me and that pan was firmly placed somewhere between the corpus callosum and his spinal cord. The rest was on the ground. We packed up and headed out after that. That was about a month ago. Now we're in South Carolina pushing north. Being the nerd I was, I was relied on by my parents for leadership after seeing that I really did know what I was doing. I taught them basic weapon crafting and modifications, lock picking and undead combat. We had found guns, but opted to save them for emergencies. The infected were attracted to noise so we stuck to minimal combat with infected and mainly avoided them. Except for the one Tank we never had to deal with a terribly dangerous situation on the zombie front. We did have some close calls with jumping rooftops and rusty fire escapes but we had only had to use guns on the lone tank. We were flooring it northward in our roofless jeep. We were halfway to Tallahassee on an exit ramp bordered by trees on either side. My brother was asleep.The jeep went from fine to dented and rolling. It settled but the ground was still shaking and I scrambled out through the frame and leveled a hunting rifle at the gorilla-like beast while my dad kept its attention with flares. Inhale. Center aim. Exhale. Hold it. Pull. BOOM! The tank reeled back as a chunk of its lower jaw flew off and it bellowed out a primal roar. It swung its arm in a wide arc tossing my dad into the trees. Ping! I racked the bolt on the rifle and gave a defiant glare. We began circling each other, a standoff, my gun held level, glued to the tanks flaring nostrils. With a guttural roar it charged for me as a small blur flew by and took my knife with it. The
Tank swung for it but he slid under the massive fist. He jumped up onto the back and scrambled to the head. The great beast reared back swinging wildly in an attempt to knock off the intruder but its swings slowed to twitching as it fell with a thud. My little 7 year old brother standing with my knife embedded into its skull.

Now we were somewhere in the center of SC and our current location could be simply described as "post apocalyptic redneck USA" abandoned pickups are left to rust and be reclaimed by nature in front of double wides or trailers. We split up. Not really, but two checked one trailer while two checked the one next to it. Mom and I found two "old fart" infected witch we bludgeoned to death with mom's table leg and my nail-bat. We checked the bodies, one was an old woman and the other appeared to be a cop. Mom ditched her table leg for my bat and I took the cop's collapsing baton. We found some canned goods, pain pills, morphine and a roll of gauze. A quick look in the fridge gave us two complete medkits we could put together. There was a jar of moonshine we could use as antiseptic. I took two water bottles out and carefully filled them with alcohol. I took out a used up first aid bag and put in the pills, gauze and alcohol. Mom did the same with the morphine. Dad and Haydon took down some rotter with a machete and came up with an unused first aid kit and similar findings to ours. A feral screech tore us away from our loot. My eyes snapped to the roofs and I kept them glued as I rushed everyone inside a trailer. I stood at the door, a kitchen knife held high. The screeching got louder as the owner grew closer and my grip became white knuckle. It all happened at once. The Hunter flew at me and I dove back, putting my feet between me and him, as I hit the ground I rocked on my back and pushed with my feet sending the hunter into the cheap cabinets with a crash. He flailed around trying to right himself. He didn't have a chance, the knife went twirling through the air into the chest of the former traceur. He stopped moving and I let out a breath, I turned to move when something hit me. The hunter was on me, pinning me. It leaned back and raised a clawed hand to start shredding me, but I felt his weight shift and it gave me an idea. I thrust my hips upward, forcing the hunter to catch himself with his hands. I grabbed an arm at the bend and thrust up again. We rolled over and now I had the hunter pinned holding his arms down. It snapped and snarled at me with scared and confused eyes. Under the hood I could see he was waiting, holding back. IT WAS TRYING TO TRICK ME. I switched to a cross mount and elbowed him in the nose. I hoped up quickly expecting retaliation. It held its nose and howled, I almost felt bad but I saw its eyes, it was planning a trick. Before I could register movement, I had a claw in my ribs and teeth in my arm. Out of shock I shot my arm out and whacked the hunter's head against the wall in the process. It dropped limply to the ground and I stomped its crotch out of anger before immediately moving to its head. It was definitely dead now, but not before the damage had been done. I sank to my knees as I stared teary eyed at the bite on my arm. It burned, and it was spreading. I shrugged off my backpack and laid it at my parents feet. Tears were streaming down my face and I told my parents they had to go. "Leave me. You can't have me with you, I've taught you enough to survive. Take care of Haydon. Haydon, don't let this happen to you." My voice was monotone but inside I was tearing myself apart by saying that. My mom opened her mouth to object but I cut her off. "No! Please don't, I couldn't take it. Look at it. It's a complete bite. All 32 teeth, there is no way I'm not infected. We know I'm not immune. P-please...just...go." Haydon ran up and cried into my shoulder. He idolized me and couldn't let me go. He backed off as I stood. My dad stepped forward and looked me in the eye. "Son...I love you...and you have become a better man than I could've ever asked for...the Lord has blessed us. But...now..." He trailed off and I picked up, I put my hand on his shoulder. "Just don't let it be in vain. You led this family before and you will do it again. I'll see you all when you're called home..." My family walked out weeping. I put my old dog tags from some camp around Haydon's neck before he left. I lay there and waited. Most of those four hours were spent in prayer, that I'll either die from this or that I'll be immune. I blacked out when the fever set in.