Left 2 DieInspired by Left 4 Dead, Company of Heroes, Saving Private RyanI.This whole thing was as if it came from the mind of some ridiculous film producer, something none of us have ever expected. On the other side of the world, Russia had undergone experiments of the new disease that had been used as a terrorist weapon amongst many, and led to their own demise, to entire cities - and even nations - quarantined. Further East, was China building up their power as they had invaded and took control of nearby countries, Japan, the Koreas - 'promised' land to the millions upon millions of citizens that lived in the slumps of China. The communist leader had proposed an alliance with Russia, but Russia wanted nothing to do with the country that had created a new disease in which would doom the world. Back on the other side, it was chaos. Men and some women in the United States, and even Canada, were all drafted to fight the Big Fight. Europe had stuck to its original alliance, and begged North America to aid with their wars. Australia was once again left out in their own little world, being a solitude island where no one had any plans for. Africa, knowing how fast the diseases spread there, was quarantined from top to bottom, including some countries in Europe and Asia. This was something that had happened before, but the things that are involved in this world war were dramatic. World of Warcraft was a good vacation, but desperate reality calls from time-to-time, and most of us have to answer, and the others are sometimes lucky. It was something like being kicked in the nads, and trying to pleasure your woman at the same time. It was going to be painful, but if we were to lose a good part of our life, we had to ignore the said pain and keep going. Most of us cried "Armegeddon!" While the others wanted to keep it in political and scientific matters, instead of complaining about what the way-back prophets predicted.II."Hey, Jason, take a look at zis." Someone whispered, the voice feminine in a sense, but deep at the same time. Jason blinking and looking away from his journal, closing it, and setting it ontop of the old nightstand with the pen, getting off the equally aged bed and sighing. "What is it?" He asked curiously. "You know I don't like to be bothered when I'm writing." He glared at the woman, she looking to be in her late teens, her appearance no doubt of any average Russian timber wolfess, but she wasn't exactly beefy like the rest of them, brown hair pulled up into a pony tail, while the rest of it hung over her left eye. She wore a trench coat, jeans, and a tank top, and of course boots. Her face was smooth and gorgeous at most, body curved slightly, and toned with muscle here and there. That was about it. Jason wore a trench coat he was gifted with by the same woman, and he liked it a lot. It was thick, and even had a hood on it, sleeves long and cozy. He wore baggy cargo pants, military-grade boots, and his grey wool tank top. His face was equally young, being of a dragon-like species, his skin of black and red scales. "Zhe distance. You see, no doubt." She nodded, Nikova looking back to Jason. "What?" He went up next to her, peering toward the dusky horizon, only to see flashing. And then it hit him. "Are they really here? They can't possibly make this much ground so quickly..." He nodded in dismay, spewing words to himself. "Zhey are far off, very far off. I know zhey will not get here quickly. Come, we must prepare our way to them." She turned around to eye Jason, and then continue on her way.Jason kept his eyes upon the horizon, over the weathered buildings, broken windows, destroyed landscape, and broken down cars that lined up and down the streets, some crashed and destroyed. "Jason?" Nikova called out, Jason blinking again and looking over his shoulder. "We must move. Zhey will not come out zis far for just us." Jason nodded, and began walking to the cabinets where they kept their weapons, rations, and personal items. "Gather your things. We'll be leaving in a few minutes now, private." Jason couldn't really disagree to it at all, her being a higher rank than him, military-wise. It was only the two of them, and they had to get along to survive the wastes of this place. He picked up the 12-gauge shotgun that had been laying in one cabinet, picking up a few cases of shells and stuffing them in what pockets he could in his pants, and two pistols in which he holstered on his sides. Two, because there was a chance he could lose it in a horde. Nikova had taken an AK-47, like any other traditional Russian would, and she had a genious idea to where she taped two clips to gether, to where she could flip one around and instantly reload her gun. Jason had to give her credit, she had some really complicated upgrades to her things. Of course, they all had small flashlights connected or taped to their weapons, giving them the edge in darkness. They had a couple backpacks, in which they stuffed foods and clean water in, and of course, extra ammunition and their personal items, including Jason's journal. If they were to survive, they needed these things.It wasn't long before they exited the small apartment room they had lived in as a residence for quite some time. If one was to head out for something, they left things hanging upon the windows, and decorated the door and reinforced it from any hordes. Their guns were pointed outwards, flashlights on as they sweeped the nearby rooms with anything of value. Jason kicked down doors that were locked, and ransacked the place for canned foods and any useful weapons. Kitchen knives, forks, small blunt objects (pipes, table legs, bats, etc.), and anything else deemed useful to cause damage. "I don't know if we'll get very far." Jason said in discouragement. "... The last time we stepped outside, there were thousands of them. They all could no doubt see and hear us, but smell us? That's something we don't know." He looked out a window of a different apartment room, staring down. The roads were empty, but he saw shadows shaped like people formed from trash fires, and many other fires from gasoline trucks and someone foolish enough to light a building on fire to burn a massive amount of them. He sighed. "Zis is nothing I would have expected." Nikova replied, "But it is somezing zat can be adapted to." She nodded. By the time they got to the bottom floor, their backpacks were even heavier, but mostly filled with things that would aid with their survival. Speed was a sacrifice, but something that has to be taken and removed carefully. "Lets go to the kitchen." Jason finally said after a long moment of silence. Nikova was inspecting the barricaded windows and doors. "Apparently no zombies have gotten in." She said, before turning around. "No, we have enough. We must go now." Jason blinked, then felt the weight on his shoulders and couldn't disagree with that, hugging his gun against his chest as he pointed it downward - a mandatory way to hold a gun when no immediate danger was about.III.It was like walking down a highway full of speeding cars. There were going to be obstacles, some you had to dodge, and others where you couldn't do anything but tackle them head-on. The flashes in the horizon were still active, and it was the only resort to anyone who was left to die in this god-forsaken city. Writing on the wall directed people who were behind, saferooms being made by civilian-turned militia who couldn't do anything but wield a gun and fight their way out. There were notes about cowards who have left others to die, notes about hope and faith, and large print saying "GOD IS DEAD! LEAVE NOW!" It was gruesome to read all of this, but something that could be useful to most, many would suppose. The doors were reinforced, and had a distinct bright color of orange or red on them, sometimes with lights upon them to show that they're there and no one will pass them. People usually had no choice but to traverse through buildings and tunnels to make it to their destinations, but when they're reached, it is a long and satisfying relaxation.It was as if hell on earth was let loose, only not demons or spewing fire. It was the living dead. A disease that destroyed the body, but left it to its own accord, causing it to be aggressive, and attack anything that got too close. But there were hordes, which we couldn't understand. From far-away observation, sometimes they bump into eachother and start beating the crap out of one another, but when they rush toward noise, or see someone that isn't infected with the disease, they rush and attack. Many of us have an immunity from shots we took when we were children, and other times from a durational syndrome scientists had found out over the course of the spread. But some consider it a Curse of God - to leave us immortal to disease, and then beaten to death by they who were already destroyed. The only way we could live, is to be quiet, keep a low profile, and not to make a lot of noise. Zombies gathered from time-to-time, naturally, as if they had a part of their mind encased in rotting infection. They leaned against walls, they sat down like they were waiting for someone, or as if they were in serious thought. It was brutal to the conscious to see many innocent people overswept by a epidemic, only to turn into aggressive husks with their souls lost and their bodies not at rest. To think their souls would be at rest if we killed them all?IV.Jason huffed, resting against a wall of an alleyway, gun held tight against his chest as it raised up and down, demanding air. "This city must've been a great town... now? I don't know what to think of it other than a graveyard.." He looked to Nikova, she was reloading her weapon, looking back and forth down the alley as she nodded, then began walking down it. "We need to take more narrow paths." She said quietly, "Zhey slow down zhe hordes." They both peaked out through the opposite end. They could hear them growling, scratching things, mumbling broken words and bumping into each other. She shushed me, and she took off, while also hugging against the wall of a brick building. Their backpacks' contents were clinking and making noise, but it was nothing loud enough to grab the dead's attention. They traveled a few blocks by now, and they were already attacked by a horde that sensed their presence, but strangely they stopped after a few moments. Jason's eyes darted left and right, incase any of them happened to spot them, fearing the worst as they were pretty exposed. "Damnit.." Nikova muttered. There was a toppled petroleum truck, the hole that was made by something it hit had a ever-lasting blaze coming from it, and Jason had no choice but to direct himself toward a door of a building. "We'll have to go through here." He whispered, the door being locked and grimacing. He stood back, and launched himself to tackle it down. Before he knew it, Nikova had her pistol out, shooting into the room to make sure no zombies would pile onto Jason and beat at him. Of course, at least two... or five of them hit the floor, and they made their way inside. Luckily, it wasn't a very big building."I've counted at least 97 killed by us for the last few hours we've been out here." Jason commented, their paces slow and sturdy now, instead of light and quick. There was no danger here from what they knew, the whole building having been cleared by all surviving police and militia, the doors reinforced and the windows barricaded with everything they could find. A hotel was an ideal place to turn into a sanctuary. "Zis place is where we will stop for now." Nikova said, looking about. The only troubles she was having right now was the fact that there wasn't a living soul in sight. They would check every room, but all of the survivors know that waiting in one place too long means you're giving yourself to the undead.After a day to themselves, Nikova and Jason had made undid the security for the door, taking off various objects that kept it closed. The streets on this side were empty, and not in the good way. It was beginning to go into the countryside, where the forests were hibernating in the fall season, leaves piled and branches bare. There were different kinds of zombies here, though there was the ones where we called the 'Common Infected' - the civilians that were diseased. Though, the people with more athletic abilities, and overall muscle were transformed in different ways than we had thought unimaginable. Thunder began to ring out in the distance, the air was filled with the fresh natural scent of rain. "Zis doesn't feel right..." She muttered, Jason nodding slowly as they continued on their way. The forests themselves were like a farm of undead, Infected constantly running out and attempting to beat and claw the two. The lightning had arrived by now, lighting up the surrounding area. "This is great... but at the same time a disadvantage. We can use the light... but the rain will surely slow us down." Jason nodded. "It is all right. We are near a tunnel, and it will take us far enough." Jason nodded, and looked forward. He noticed something, squinting, and saw a few sprinting shadows upon a hill. The lightning showed they had hoods, and baggy pants, and then they started to leap, from tree to tree, and at a rapid pace, too. "Shit!" Jason called out, grabbing Nikova by the arm. "We need to hurry to that tunnel!" Those shadows got closer, and the tunnel was only a few feet away by now, discharging their weapons to shoot any common infront of them.