The second John made it to the paved asphalt alley, he detached from his rappelling rope and scrutinized the tight-ish urban environment he found himself in. Luckily for him, no hordes of undead came running because he had dealt enough damage to the infected population in this small sector of the city.
No, zeds, huh? Well, ain't that a shame.
Although hungry for more kills, he was wary of more stragglers popping out from somewhere; thus; he held his position and monitored the body-covered alley with his AK-47 loaded with a 100-round drum. However, after holding that spot for a dozen seconds, no zombies came to investigate, so he continued on down the alley and advanced in the direction of the safe house.
The alley behind the apartments wasn't completely empty and was instead filled with multiple abandoned cars and fuel barrels, a couple of which were aflame but were struggling to survive the constant onslaught of the rain. Good thing John invested in his waterproof wear; otherwise, he'd be getting soaked again too.
The layout is changed from what I remember and on a larger scale, but it's fairly similar to what I remember from the No Mercy campaign.
Our protagonist kept placing one boot in front of the other as he pushed on down the alley and, after passing an intersecting segment behind the urban sprawl, he came across his first group of infected beyond the relative safety that the apartments provided. Unfortunately for this group of zeds, John had been keeping his ears peeled and scanning the surroundings like a hawk.
So when he spotted them, he made sure the other directions were clear before he hefted his AK-47, that was being weighed down significantly by the weight of the drum and the 100 rounds it was loaded with, and lined up his iron sights with the closest zombie's head. It was a bit dark, but there was enough light to perform the action, and the instant his assault rifle was aligned; he pulled the trigger.
Here we go again.
Was all that crossed his mind as snaps echoed throughout the area and bodies dropped onto the hard pavement. His actions would have been considered suicidal by many since he would no doubt draw the attention of more infected with his suppressed fire, but he had been checking the surroundings systematically as he explored the alleys so he knew what was clear and where he could fall back and hold a chokepoint if he needed to.
John was confident in his ability to clear out this small group of infected even if dozens more flooded the area, hence kept collecting kills with well-placed shots at head height. The bodies of the deceased infected fell one after the next and slowly began to impede those that trickled in from the nearby areas and buildings. His suppressive fire on the infected continued as they growled and snarled like wild rabid animals whilst storming towards him, but this soon changed when he heard the coughs of a Smoker in between his AK's shots and the clattering of brass casings hitting the ground.
Great, another special infected.
Knowing the dangers that specific infected posed to him, especially when he was all by himself, he was about to begin searching for it amongst the infected and the surrounding structures. But before he could make his move, an incredibly long and grotesque, mutated tongue wrapped around his neck from behind and attempted to start reeling him. Sadly for the Smoker, John was incredibly used to it and every other special infected from his hundreds and hundreds of hours spent playing Left 4 Dead, including the tactics they liked to use most.
So as soon as he felt that unbelievably long tongue wrap around his hazmat suit covered throat, he dropped his primary weapon he'd just been using to dispatch the zeds en masse and whipped out his machete, which he stuck in a makeshift holster of sorts on his war belt earlier, and slashed the slimy gross appendage. And because he swung with such strength and force, the blade sliced right through the tongue and caused the Smoker to retract it and hiss in pain in the distance.
Ahh, that's where you are, you slimy bastard.
The pained hissing of the Smoker let John know pretty much where it was, but he had plenty of zeds still coming at him from the front, so he sheathed his machete, rapidly drew his Glock 20, set it to full, and sprayed the approaching horde with a literal storm of lead. Due to the weapon's extreme fire rate of 1,200 rounds a minute, the spray wasn't the most accurate, but it was certainly lethal to those that were struck in the head or heart. So whilst a dozen infected were keeling over and impeding their kind from the afterlife, John took this opportunity to pick up his dropped assault rifle and whip around in the opposite direction.
The Smoker was still in the midst of retrieving its extended tongue on the edge of a roof and was going to need a few more seconds to get it ready to launch once more, meaning it was a sitting duck. Our ruthless main character here wasn't one to let a prime opportunity like this go by; hence, he took aim at the special infected and let it feel the wrath of his destructive 7.62 rounds.
A rapid succession of suppressed shots left the end of the hot suppressor and mauled the Smoker, filling it with holes and removing literal chunks from its body. And the next thing he knew, the mutated zed fell off the roof's edge and exploded into multiple chunks the second it hit the pavement, whilst also releasing a dark gray cloud of smoke that obscured a sizable portion of the alley behind him.
That's what you get, fucker.
Relieved to have put that special infected down in a matter of mere moments of it coming onto the scene, John quickly checked his left, hoping he would only have to deal with the infected coming from one side. Sadly, that was not the case because he now had over a dozen more zombies speeding towards him from a storage room to his left, plus the horde coming from the front.
Oh, shit, was all that could pass through his mind before he started unloading onto the small horde of infected beelining straight for him. Having to take on enemies coming from one direction was already hard enough to deal with all on his own let alone two, so he let his gun rip through the undead and began slowly retreating back the way he came whilst continuing to lay down automatic fire.
The 7.62 FMJ rounds pierced multiple infected at a time, causing their numbers to quickly dwindle as John laid down hate at head height and soon enough all those from both the left and the front were lying motionless on the wet asphalt. However, before he could celebrate, a hoarse cackling came from behind, sounding something like a demented leprechaun.
Again with this bullshit!
John was growing tired of getting crept up on and sneak attacked from behind, so as the Jockey launched at him, he performed a 180 and aggressively jabbed the hard, solid wood stock of his AK right into the midget-sized zombie's head. The clock to the face did just the trick and sent the annoying zed to the ground with a decent portion of its face caved in. Seeing the perfect chance to eliminate this special infected before anymore showed up, our ruthless protagonist wasted no time running up on the downed infected and stomping its head in with his boot. It took a few tries, but the Jockey's head eventually succumbed to the combined heft and power of his trained physique.
I always wanted to try that in my previous world, as fucked up as that sounds.
Life in prison didn't exactly sound all that appealing for curb stomping someone's head back in his old world no matter how wicked cool it may have looked in Gears of War, but no one could tell him no here, nor would they care for that matter, seeing how the infected were nothing more than a scourge on this world that needed exterminating. John would've reveled in the moment in more peaceful times; however, the sound of rapid steps came through the smoke, and seconds later, multiple zeds were upon him, ready to tear into his flesh and devour him alive.
Shit, just when I needed to reload too.
Although his assault rifle was empty, he had enough time to reload if he stepped back and swapped mags quick enough, so that's what he did. The second his spent 100-round drum impacted the pavement, he had a full 30-rounder loaded into the gun and let the bolt fly forward just as the newcomers reached several feet away from him.
That wasn't a ton of distance to cover for a group of infected sprinting at their fastest possible speed, hence John forewent his usual aiming technique and instead held down the trigger and point fired his AK-47. And because of their close proximity to him, he was able to put them all down in a matter of seconds, though it did require a few kicks plus a couple extra rounds since this wasn't one of his most used methods of shooting.
The second he was done slaying the infected on that end, he retreated to the left where he had slaughtered those dozen and half zeds, that came flying out of that storage space, reloaded his Glock with another big stick mag, and posted up on the corner of the brick building. He had already dealt with enough infected for one minute, but if more were going to come, then let them; it's not like he was going to say no to the rewards on their heads. Fortunately or unfortunately, after staying on that corner for 30 seconds, none showed.
Looks like there aren't any other takers for the moment.
So with no further company coming to see him for the minute, he ignored the numerous bodies piled all throughout the alley, grabbed his drum mag, the one he ditched and left on the ground, stashed it in his bag, along with the AK, and moved to the brick buildings storage room with his machete wielded in his dominant hand and his lit up Glock in his left hand.
I really need to get a strap for my rifle because I can't be putting it in my backpack like this. Not to mention it would help my arms endure the weight of my AK-47, which I've basically turned into a light machine gun with the addition of this 100-round drum. But I can investigate that after I've cleared this space and ensured no zombies are hiding or stuck inside.
Aware of the potential hidden dangers that may or may not be lurking in the storage, John approached the room's smashed doorway cautiously and shined his pistol's light on the dark interior as raindrops continued to hit his dark hazmat suit and the pavement. The pitter-patter of the rain reduced his ability to perceive his surroundings some but not enough to where he couldn't catch a regular infected charging from the rear, so he kept an ear out whilst he scanned the building's storage from outside the door.
He scanned from right to left carefully, lighting up the floors, walls, and storage racks full of stuff within the storage space. Thankfully, his investigation revealed not a single zed within, not even a dead one. Although somewhat pleased with his initial findings, he still remained cautious and speedily checked both corners before fully committing to stepping into the large concrete room.
Looks like the coast is clear in this section.
With not a single infected found hiding within, John advanced into the storage room with his weapons still drawn and pushed into the back of the space where a closed door was. It wouldn't be wise to leave any area of the space overlooked, thus he banged on the door a few times to see if he could stir up anything on the other side. However, after standing for about a dozen seconds he didn't hear a peep, so he attempted to open the sturdy steel door.
Hmm, it's locked... I guess I'll revisit this in a bit and bust open this door when I'm done shopping and reloading my mags.
Satisfied with the situation for the moment, he checked the rest of the storage space thoroughly before posting up in a spot where he had full view of the only known way into this space. Once he was settled in his position, John opened the store and took note of how many gold coins he had to work with as he kept an ear out for any out-of-place sounds and a close eye on the open doorway.
[ Store ]
Gold Coins: 292
( Search Bar: _______________ )
( Weapons )
Molotov - 5 Gold Coins
M67 Frag Grenade - 6 Gold Coins
Bile Bomb - 7 Gold Coins
Pipe Bomb - 10 Gold Coins
Glock 20 - 10 Gold Coins
AK-47 - 47 Gold Coins
6P67 KORD - 97 Gold Coins
M249 SAW - 150 Gold Coins
HK21 - 225 Gold Coins
RPG-7 - 350 Gold Coins
Mystery Box - 1,000 Gold Coins
…
That's a lot of coin right there but what should I spend them on… Well, I'm pretty content with my AK for the second, so I'd rather not blow a third of my budget on the 6P67 KORD just yet, which is just a superior AK all around minus the 47s legendary reliability. With that taken out, I do need me some more ammo after dumping all 100 rounds of 7.62 out of my drum mag, so let me buy several hundred-round ammo boxes. I would've gone for the ammo supply box if I had a home base of sorts secured already, but there's no way I'm lugging around 1,000 rounds of 7.62. I mean like a good deal like anyone else, but not so much that I'm willing to blow my back out.
In addition to that, I'm gonna buy another large drum magazine, a new pouch for it and the one I got already, four 60 rounders for my AK-47, and 4 thick mag pouches for them to sit in… Hmm, those pipe bombs could prove hella useful in a tough situation as well. They're kind of pricey for a one and done sort of weapon, but let's grab a couple of those too, along with a bile bomb and a grenade sack to hold them all.
The second John had all the items he wished to purchase selected, he locked in his order and blinked. And the next time he opened his clear blue eyes, an assortment of throwables, gear, and ammunition lay spread out but organised on the bare concrete floor in front of him. Although excited by the sight of the assortment of items on the floor, he remained very aware of the danger that could very well come through the door in front while he was distracted.
Hence, he kept his head cool, approached the new purchases, and began packing his mags with his speed loader as quietly as he could so as to not draw the attention of any new infected that may have wandered into the alleys. His 7.62 speedloader made this monotonous task go by fast, and not all that many minutes later he had every last mag packed the way he wanted them, even those he emptied on the undead not long ago.
"Now we're back in business." He thought under his breath as he clicked his freshly loaded drum mag back into its rightful place.
Locked and loaded yet again, John loaded the packed the multiple newly bought 60 rounders into his new spiffy mag pouches, inserted the throwables in the grenade sack, tossed the spare partially used box of ammo in his backpack, that would need to be upgraded sometime soon, and considered what he needed to do next.
My kit's getting heavier as I accumulate more and more kills but it's not yet at the point where it's a problem… Having said that, how do I want to invest what remains of my cash, should I put it into my primary gun or should I hold on to what I got.
Yeah, nah, I think I'm good. I'm gonna be replacing my AK soon, probably on the next big buy, so I'd rather not piss away my funds if I don't have to. That said, I'm going to pick up a sling for my rifle to ease the burden on my arms to some degree and a lock pick set since it seems like it could prove useful in my ventures through this modern world, plus I can use it to break into the backroom.
Relatively happy with his current equipment setup, John threw a single coin at a weapon sling and 10 gold coins at a lock pick set. He then wandered around the building's extra space looking to see if there was anything useful he could quote unquote borrow and bring along. Most of the crap down here on the shelves was just people's random belongings but after examining the whole place, minus whatever was behind the door in the back, he found a nice big old bowie knife with dark stained leather sheath in a milk crate full of tools and other random bits and bobs.
This will do nicely.
Although the knife had age to it, it was surprisingly sharp; thus; it found its way right onto John's belt, just opposite of his sheathed machete, which was positioned on his left hip. Following that find, he went on to scour practically the entirety of the storage, and once he had, he discovered a small, thin Maglite that still had some juice.
Nice, I needed another light source.
He didn't plan on keeping his old soviet style rifle for long but he couldn't keep wandering around in the dark for much longer when the skies were becoming increasingly darker, so he strapped the sturdy but lightweight flashlight to his gun with a roll of duct tape he pulled from a nearby shelf. And right as he got it wrapped tightly to his weapon, he tested it out and proceeded to the back and arrived in front of the locked door.
I haven't done any lockpicking in my previous life, but I've watched enough of the LockPickingLawyer to understand the gist of it.
With his set of fine tools in hand, he let the drum-fed assault rifle come to rest against the bottom of his ribs and crouched down in front of the lock. The space was without any functional lights for some reason, so he took his sidearm and shined it on the lock to get an idea of what he was dealing with. Fortunately, the lock was simple in nature from what he could tell, so he holstered his Glock, grabbed a rake and torque bar and went to town just off of feel alone all whilst keeping an ear out.
John was a nooby to say the least, so it took a couple minutes of finagling, but he eventually heard a click and felt the lock give way.
That's it.
Excited to see what was inside, he got up and backed away from the door and twisted the handle. What was revealed on the other side of the plain metal door was nothing but a bunch of stinking bodies.
...So much for more loot.
Disgusted by the grotesque scene within, he shut the door and walked away hastily, ready to get to that darn safe room and acquire a map.
______
Alright, that's first 6 chapters released, hope you liked it... Oh, and if any of you guys are coming from my other works let me know what you think of the writing style. I think it's pretty decent but you let me know.