A/N: Before I get into actually beginning the story I would like to announce I do not own I anyway Left for Dead in any way. I wish this weren't true. But the idea for this story is mine; Adam Wakefield is MY name, so ask permission to use it.. Without further words, let's go.

CHAPTER 1: FUCK

"Adam, please tell me what the heck's going on!"

In a school building, two teenage boys ran down an empty hallway. Behind them were about a dozen zombies, almost all of them students of the school. In appearance, they wore dress pants and shirts with ties worn sloppily around the neck.

"Matt, do you think I know what's going on," I yelled.

Well kinda! You're the one who got me remember!"

"Would you rather I leave you dozing off while the school's being raided by undead monsters," I replied.

"You know, that doesn't seem like a bad idea now," he shot back.

"Shut up and run mothafucka!"

We continued to run, all ready tired from running nonstop for about 5 minutes. Sweat dropped down our faces constantly, and we didn't have the luxury to wipe it off just yet. Damn, for a bunch of brainless zombies, they could run really fast. It's too bad they didn't get tired like us. Maybe not having a brain was more fun. I looked back to see them gaining on us and almost fainted. Finally, we made it to the end of the hallway. I tried the door that led to the football field, locked, of course.

"Matt we're screwed," I said near pissing myself. I knew one day this school would be the death of me, but damn.

"Adam! Over here," Matt called, holding the door to the band room open.

As I made a mad dash inside, I felt a tug on my shirt. Turning around, I saw one of the zombies moaning with his mouth wide open. I yelped and tried my best to get free. Note to self: Zombies have a very bad dental plan.

"Matt! He's got me," I yelled to my friend.

Matt turned around and saw me clawing the edges of door trying to get a grip so I wouldn't be pulled out of the room. Immediately, he tried to free me with little success.

"It's no good! He's not budging!"

"Well then make him," I said impatiently.

Looking around, Matt saw a cardboard box that looked heavy enough to heave at the zombie. He began picking it up, then turned and tossed it at the zombie, knocking it down. Once the zombie lost his grip on me, I stumbled in as Matt slammed the heavy wooden door closed. As I fell to my knees to catch a moment of rest, I thanked God I brought along my reliable friend Matt. Behind me, Matt was slumped against the door where zombies were trying to get in. After a few seconds, Matt began.

"What the fuck was all that!"

"Matt, I don't know what's happening ok? I just know it's all related to the game."

Matt was to panicked to even listen, "This is a joke, this shit can't be real!"

"Matt it's not a joke, you saw as well as I did what just happened back there."

"Then you tell me what it is," he snapped," Please enlighten me!"

"I can only tell you what I know!"

"Please," Matt said as he calmed down," Do that then"

ABOUT 30 MINUTES AGO

At the front entrance to the school, Matt and I were sharing stories about the day. Me? I'm about 5'7 and 150 pounds, pretty light for a 16 year old. My buddy Matthew Johnson is a few inches shorter and is 17. He's lanky and cuts his hair low like me. One of his distinguishing features is his glasses, which lets him pass as an adult. That comes in handy when I want to drive since I only have a learners permit. Guess now though it doesn't matter anymore huh? Anyway, Matt stood waiting for his ride while I chatted it up a bit.

"Where's your ride anyway," I asked.

Matt flipped out his phone which read 3:30." Dunno. They're usually here at 3. Probably at Kroger again."

I freaked out at '3'.

"Wait, what time is it?!?!"

"3:32 now, why?"

I face palmed," Shit! I'm supposed to be in detention by now!"

"Doesn't detention start at 2:45?"

"Dammit Matt, don't be a smart ass!"

I left him in a hurry as I headed back into the atrium where upperclassmen usually hang out during their free period. As I entered though, I noticed no students whatsoever were mingling on the couches or hallways. Looking back on it, the security guard wasn't even there (Come to think of it, only Matt and I were outside). Blinded by the fear of facing the detention monitor, Mr. Tisdale, I ran up the stair non stop until I reached the third floor. Note to self: climbing up stairs with a heavy book bag SUCKS!!!!

Heading into room 308, I noticed nobody was there, most importantly, Mr. Tisdale. Sighing in relief, I was beginning to think I could get away with being late. I took my seat and then after ten minutes of waiting, I figured there was not detention. Sweet deal, now I could spray paint the name 'TUPAC' on Tisdale's board. I retrieved my bag and pulled out my favorite can of 'Montana Black' Spray Paint. Before I could finish the 'A', I looked out the window to see about ten people coming from the neighborhood a street down towards our school.

"Must be cross-country," I said to myself.

Looking closer though, I noticed they were fully clothed and were running in a sort of limp. I couldn't see much through the blinds, so I lifted them and near died when I saw what I saw: a horde of zombies headed towards the school.

"Fuck!"

I turned around to see a zombified teacher blocking the doorway, which I recognized as Tisdale. Apparently, he recognized me too, because he charged at me with a grunt. Not wasting any time, I grabbed the nearest dictionary and flung it towards Zomb-dale, causing him to double over. I grabbed my history book from my pack, and then smashed Zomb-dale repeatedly. When he stopped moving, I proclaimed the fight a victory.

"Now you hit the books," I shouted before grabbing my paint and running out: Sure, a corny joke, but how many times do you get to say that to a teacher?

Realizing the gravity of the situation, I sped down the stairs making no stop whatsoever. I had to get out. Then something made me stop. Ok two something's. One was a zombie wearing a hoodie that eyed me from atop of a statue in the hallway. The other was the fact that I left Matt outside, and a ginourmous horde was coming. Wait, that's three something's…Shit. Jumping over the stair banister, I avoided provoking the hooded zombie the fled away when I left. I continued down the stairs into the atrium where Matt was nodding off in a chair. Coming over, I shook him awake.

"Matt, wake the fuck up!"

"What," he said sleepily," Why, what's up, my parents here?"

"No Matt listen! I know this is going to sound weird and off the fucking wall but we need to go!

Before I finished, a fat bloated zombie with massive warts came behind me. Up until then I didn't want to believe it, but I need to survive so I-.

"MATT! BOOMER ON MY SIX!!!"

I dove out the way, but Matt didn't take the warning and was showered in Boomer vomit.

"Matt! Lets go before the horde-."

FLAMING FUCKS," I yelled.

That's basically how I felt when about seventy fucking zombies busted through the fucking window like Welsey Snipes in his movies. I grabbed Matt and we ran through the hallway while being chased by the headhunter horde. Matt wiped off the bile, but it didn't matter now. We were, in a word, FUCKED!

In the band room, I'd just finished my story to Matt, who had been barricading the door with a roving closet and removing the wheels.

"So," he said after a moment of silence," We're fucked then?"

I nodded my head.

A/N: Well, there's the first chapter. Please review on your way out. No flaming please, as this is my first entry. Other than that the second chapter should be up soon. PEASE OUT HOLMES!!!! PROJECT ARMS FOR LIFE!!!!! (in case you didn't know that's my favorite fiction I wish was still going. Feel free to check it out though.)