(Book 1) Left 4 Dead 3: First Blood

6.2

District Attorney Salvas, the man whom Holly was supposed to help, and also one of the personnel who pulled out and escorted Dwain's team from Downtown.

Now lost in thought as he sat on a hospital bed in a makeshift clinic, one of many set up throughout the capitol.

He recalled his days before the disease ravaged the city. Of the lives he may have destroyed. The people who would have put a bullet in him, had he not been first to put one in them.

Countless lawsuits that were not decided with justice in mind. All to give his family a comfortable life. All of it for nothing.

Salvas confined himself after experiencing cramps around the lower portion of his body. Holly was supposed to get the medicine for him, and felt like he had been waiting for hours now.

The clicking door knob snapped Salvas out of his thoughts.

He was expecting Holly to come into that door, but the male federal agent spilled out of the doorway instead.

"Hey, did she get me the meds?" Salvas asked.

"Yes..." Warren replied solemnly.

The ace-high lawyer has no idea that the medicine he would receive is bad. He is unaware of the bitter news yet, but the agent would assure he would get even more than that.

They both stared at each other in uneasy silence for what seemed like an eternity.

"Well?" Salvas hissed. "Where is it? Where's the fed gal by the way?"

Warren plodded towards the door and completely shut it, locking the knob as well.

He looked at Salvas deadpan as he stepped forward. "I'm gonna answer yo' questions..."

He fished the tiny box from his pocket before sticking it out to the lawyer.

"Number one... here's yo' shit."

Salvas dug for the box, but Warren quickly pulled his hand back.

"What the hell's your problem!?" Salvas barked.

"Number two..." Warren glowered with pursed, shivering lips and rapid, heavy breathing. The pain wouldn't let him finish the sentence.

Warren could no longer hold it in. He pulled out his suppressed pistol and aimed it faster than the old lawyer can blink.

Salvas widened his eyes and froze, his eyes traced from the federal agent's face down to the suppressed muzzle that was pointed at him.

"Where's the fed gal? She's dead, you son of a bitch... she got herself killed just to get you yo' stupid medicine!" He growled as the flung the pack to the ground, scattering the pills on the floor.

"A stupid. Box. Of Plavix! We've gone through hell much worse than this shit, and that's just what she died fo'!" He exclaimed.

The federal agent made a few steps forward, aiming the gun closer. "And now, you gotta get to tell her yo' condolences yo'self, motherfucker..."

As cold as he spoke, Warren squeezes the trigger and empties the gun onto the district attorney's body, finishing off with his head.

>>>

Meanwhile, Dwain and Daeshim went to help Cody and a couple of other soldiers with stocking up their food supplies. One single lamp with a fair length hanging on the ceiling was the only thing granting them bright gleams that was enabling them to see through the dimness of the place.

They were also engaged in short banters throughout their preparation to keep the atmosphere somehow alive despite the room's lifelessness.

"Can anybody tell me why are we storing food here instead of the mess hall?" Dwain questioned.