//------------------------------// // Chapter 10: It came from the sewers! // Story: Left 4 Derpy // by Edmar Fecler //------------------------------// Left 4 Derpy Chapter 10: It came from the sewers! - Roughly an hour before the survivor’s encounter with the tank, back in the subways - After the gruff human had foolishly shot the boomer in such close quarters, a horde of common infected and a tank gave chase to the survivors. The Hunter watched from the tunnel’s ceiling as the group retreated into a side passage and slammed the door shut behind them. The hunter’s plan had been to wait for the common infected to bust down the door, since it was obvious that the survivors would open fire as soon as it was open, then swoop in behind the tank and make his move. Unfortunately, the hunter’s plan was blown out of the water when an ear-splitting explosion sounded out from the passage, followed by it and a section of the tunnel caving in. The force of the explosion was so powerful in fact, that the hunter was shaken loose from its perch and fell to the ground. After recovering from the shock of the explosion, the hunter took a moment to assess the situation. The majority of the horde had been buried in the tunnel’s collapse, but the tank was uninjured (as far as being a giant mutant zombie goes) and smashing away at the pile of rubble to try and get at the survivors. It seemed even more angry than usual that the survivors had escaped. Watching the behemoth smashing through the rubble gave the hunter an idea. If the hunter could get the tank to do what he told it, then he could use it to clear the collapsed tunnel. However, even with the tank’s strength, clearing the tunnel would take far too long. The hunter thought to himself for a moment. If he couldn’t go through the obstacle, then perhaps he could go around it! He remembered that there were several other tunnels running all beneath the city known as sewers. All he had to do was get the tank to smash its way through the wall between the subway tunnel and the sewer, and then find a way back up to the surface. From there, finding the survivors would be no trouble. He just had to find and follow their trail of death and destruction until he caught back up. Now came the hard part. Convincing the tank to do what the hunter wanted him to. It took about thirty minutes, but eventually the hunter was able to find a way to get the tank to do his bidding. Now that the tank was at his disposal, the hunter searched the tunnel for the most likely section of wall that the sewers were behind. After a few failed attempts, the hunter finally found a place where the tank could bring down the entire wall and allow them passage. The horrendous smell burned the hunter’s nose terribly, causing his head to spin. The one time he regretted having an advanced sense of smell. There was no way he would be able to navigate his way to the surface; any possible scents were overpowered by the already present stench. The tank, on the other hand, didn’t seem to be affected by the smell whatsoever. To the hunter’s surprise, it took off charging down the tunnel. He didn’t know if it knew where it was going, but he didn’t have any better ideas other than to follow it. In fact, his head was swimming so badly from the overpowering stench that he could barely even focus on keeping up with the behemoth. After what felt like an eternity of winding through the sewer tunnels, the tank smashed its way through a wall into a room with several large tanks (the metal containers, not the zombies) lining the walls. The tank (this time the zombie) couldn’t care less about the room or what was in it, and continued to a stair case at the opposite end of the room. The hunter, whose nerve were still recovering from being burned with the utterly foul smell of shit, continued following the tank as it smashed its way up the stairs and through several more walls. It wasn’t until the tank smashed its way into a large room with several, tall shelves that the hunter’s senses truly began to regain some sensation. The hunter stopped and took a deep breath of the (moderately) fresh air to try and determine his location, when something caught his attention. He smelled… the survivors? His concentration was shattered as the tank smashed through a metal door in the side of the room, followed by an even louder crash and the sound of gunfire. The hunter hurried to the hole in the wall just in time to see the tank punch the gruff survivor through the air and into a building across the open area. The hunter was surprised to say the least. He was not remotely aware that the tank had a sense of smell so powerful that it could smell the humans not only over the stench of the sewers, but over the distance they had traveled. The hunter thought about this for a moment before leaping up to the building’s roof for a better view of the battle. * * * Francis’s eyes shot open as he sat up suddenly, only to fall back from an intensely sharp pain in his chest. “SHIT!” “Well what did you expect from doing that,” Zoey asked. She was sitting beside him and wrapping up his chest when he had tried to sit up. “Don’t move, it’ll only make things worse.” “Damn! It feels like somebody is stabbing me!” “Well actually…” she began as she started wrapping more bandages around him. “A broken rib from one of the times that tank punched you is pressing into your right lung. It hasn’t punctured, from what I can tell, but I can almost guarantee that it will if you make any more sudden movements like that.” Francis grumbled something beneath his breath. “Also, you passed out after taking a few of Louis’s pills.” “Stupendous.” The roll of bandages ran out and Zoey tossed the empty roll away. “When we get to the hospital, I might be able to do something about that with the proper tools.” She noticed Francis eyeing her with a concerned look. “I know you’re good with a med-kit, but that doesn’t mean I want you cutting me open and messing with my guts!” “Well I’m the most qualified one for the task. …Unless you’d rather have Bill do it.” “NO!” Zoey smirked. “I thought not.” Francis sighed. “So…” he turned his head to look at the pile of smoking rubble where the gas station had been. “I got em,’ right?” “Heh, big-time. I’ll have to admit, that plan of yours was pretty stupid; though I’m not complaining about the results.” “HA! Francis, one; tank, hamburger!” “Well, it wasn’t exactly a flawless victory,” Zoey retorted, poking the bandages lightly. Francis winced, despite trying to ignore the pain. “Well… I still won.” Zoey shrugged. “By the way, where the hell is everyone else? They pussy out and run away or something?” Zoey rolled her eyes. “No Francis. They’re looking through the warehouse for any supplies we can use.” She paused for a second. “…By the way, your arm is looking pretty bad as well. That infection is nothing like I’ve ever seen, and it’s getting worse by the hour.” “Shit... You sayin’ you can’t do anything about it?” “Again, I can’t do much more than wrap you up without the proper tools. I’ll see what I can do once I’ve finished with your ribs.” She paused. “…how does it feel now?” “It feels like there’s something crawling under my skin, itchy as hell, and burns worse than fire. If I didn’t know better, I’d say someone rubbed poison ivy all over it and then poured a glass of acid on it.” “I guess; but the thing that concerns me the most is the hair. It’s spread all the way to your shoulder now. If amputation was ever an option, it certainly isn’t anymore.” “Fuck.” Bill, Louis and Ditzy exited the warehouse through the hole in the wall before the conversation could continue. “So, find anything helpful?” Zoey asked, noticing the bags slung across Bill’s back. “Nothing that we can use,” Bill replied glumly. “All the food’s gone bad and there’s no weapons to be had. Other than that, just more useless shit.” Francis noticed Ditzy had her head hung low. There were a few streaks running down through the fur beneath her eyes. “What the hell’s wrong with you? Thought I was dead or something?” Ditzy looked up suddenly. “Francis! You’re ok!” “What do you think I am, some kind of weakling like Louis? It takes more than a few broken ribs to take me down.” “Though the slightest nudge could fill your lung with blood and kill you,” Zoey cut in sarcastically. “Whoa, what now?!” Louis seemed the most surprised by the news, despite just being insulted by the biker. “One of Francis’s broken ribs is pressing into his right lung,” Zoey explained. “It hasn’t punctured yet, but it could at any time. We need to get to the hospital soon so I can try and remove it.” Ditzy put a hoof to her mouth in shock. The others stood there silently and considered the situation. Francis rolled his eyes and groaned. “Would you guys stop acting like I’m already dead? It’s getting a bit uncomfortable…” “Right,” Zoey continued as she stood up. “So what’s the plan?” Bill cleared his throat. “Well, as much as I hate to admit it, Francis was right. The sewers are out of the question. That tank led a pretty obvious trail behind it, which led us straight to the sewage treatment facility next door.” “I told you so,” Francis cut in with a smirk. “But Francis’s plan was totaled along with that car.” Bill pointed to the overturned vehicle lying inside the collapsed shop. “We could find another one! We’re in a city after all; it’s not like that was the only car.” “Oh! Oh!” Ditzy hopped up and down a few times. “I could fly around and see if I find one!” “You know,” Bill stoked his beard in thought. “That’s actually not a bad idea. You sure you’re up to it? We wouldn’t want you getting into trouble like last time.” Ditzy beamed. “No no! I can do it!” “Alright then. Just be careful.” Bill watched as she launched herself into the air. “See if you can find a pickup if at all possible,” He shouted after her. “How am I supposed to pick up a car if I find it?” “No. Pickup as in the type of truck; not pick-up as in picking something up.” “Oh, ok! …What’s a pickup truck?” “You know what? Forget it.” Ditzy shrugged. “Okay.” She turned and flew off above the city to begin her search for a vehicle. * * * The hunter watched as the four-legged survivor took to the skies. After glancing back down to the four humans he determined that they would not be going anywhere soon, and decided to follow the flying creature. He was already somewhat knowledgeable about the capacity of the humans, since he had once been one himself; but he was growing more concerned about what this other thing was capable of. It could obviously fly, but what else could it do? How good was its flying? Was it more vulnerable in the skies, or on the ground? If the hunter was ever going to face the creature, or any of the other survivors for that matter, he had to know what he was up against. And so the hunter began leaping from roof to roof after the grey Pegasus; making sure not to be seen, yet never letting his target out of sight. All the while he formed plans about how to best take on the creature and the others when the time came.