(Book 1) Left 4 Dead 3: First Blood

6.5

Dwain stared down the muzzle of Jess' gun, sweat beading and rolling down his brow. 

Despite the monstrous shrieks and growls getting closer, despite the low rumble of the building behind that was on its last legs being mere paces behind them, they kept holding each other at gunpoint. 

Their eyes locked against one another, his fiery gaze meeting her frigid, emotionless stare. 

Too much pressure. Low odds. Seems like he had no choice. Dwain couldn't take it anymore.

The athletic male unleashed a strained sigh. At last, he was rendered jaded. He was then compelled to pull the trigger.

Two shots rang.

However, those rounds struck down a zombie that was dashing behind the nun. She didn't even flinch as those bullets flew by her. 

Dwain then changed course and embarked on a killing spree towards the swarm. 

Jess turned at the horde. And together, they all brought down rains of bullets and shells to the swarm.

One moment, Dwain stopped shooting. He pulled out his last MIST grenade and threw it off. The object propelled into the air and eventually landed somewhere far from them. 

Most of the zombies are diverted towards the green smoke. But somehow, a few kept their pace fixed towards the survivors—the brave ones who fought them by all means. 

Jess eventually emptied her gun and pulled out her two hatchets. An infected came bolting. She swung the right blade. Quick uppercut slash. She moved past the zombie and swung again. One strike at the spine. One down. 

Another one inbound. She dodged a little. One strike with the left hatchet, hooking the zombie with its scruff as she brought it past her then pivoted. Left hatchet pulled out. One more strike to the spine from the right hatchet came next. Then a push kick. Zombie landing to the floor face first. Two down. 

Two targets incoming from her side. Jess stayed alert. Luckily, they're a bit distant from each other. 

The nun gained momentum. She pivoted. One second, a tornado kick thrusted towards the first zombie in line. Subsequently, the right-hand hatchet came flying right towards the other zombie following, blade exactly jabbing to its head. Three, four down. 

In the meantime, Dwain was stuck with his pistol. He was still reloading at that point. But the stream of zombies coming at him was so fast that the simple changing of pistol magazines became slow.

As a result, Dwain was pissed. He thrusted a front kick at an incoming zombie, pushing it off and causing it to fall down rolling on the staircase. 

One more incoming. He welcomed the hideous creature and grabbed its arm. Then pivoted, flipping it over him and bringing it to the ground. 

Another one came up. Dwain was facing the staircase behind, so he just striked a back kick to it. Then went back to the zombie he flipped over with a heavy thump to the head from his foot, finishing it off.

There are other sets of zombies inbound. But he thought they're far enough now. He immediately inserted the new magazine into the pistol and racked it.

About time the pair of infected becomes close enough and lunges at Dwain. But he won't let that happen. 

He was able to stand on a sideward stance, with the gun close to his chest and calmly squeezed the trigger. Two to the chest. Switch target. Two to the body. Two down.

Two more zombies are approaching. He pulled the gun higher, bringing it closer to his face now, still canted to the side. Two to the head. Switch target. Two more to the other one. Eight shots rang out and four bodies fell in the span of two seconds.