This is my first story please be kind with me.

I do not own Left 4 Dead Bill, Francis, Louis, Zone, the Hunter, Smoker, Boomer, Tank, or Witch. They all belong to Steam. I also do not own the common infected, or the infection.

My story is about my own OC's with the exception of Claude, if you don't want to read about OC's or AU's them find another story

Hayden Strife is my own character, Claude Kogima is my brother's

p.s. if you want to know what Hayden's hair looks like it's the same as Hayate/Ein's hair from dead or Alive 3 but black

p.p.s. Hayden is a 23 years old Caucasian-Latino(Spaniard) , Claude is a 24 year old Caucasian-Latino(Mexican-Cuban). They are only five months apart in age.

p.p.p.s. the collage they attend has the freshman class start at the age of 21. It's my story get over it.

p.p.p.p.s. please review constructive criticism is appreciated.

Prologue

One and one half weeks after first infection

Saturday September 29th, 2021

11:40 a.m.

Bzzzz…..bzzzz…..bzzzz…..bzzzz, went my phone; the stupid vibration was strong enough to wake me up. In checked the caller ID to see if I should answer it. It read Claude K., damn.

I flipped open my phone and asked "Prez what do you need?"

"Strife I know you my friend but your late for our meeting. You said you would be here an hour early, you have twenty minutes to get here before the recruits do." Claude said

"Yessir; I'll be there ASAP." I said. After closing my phone I wondered why we had to be as military as possible. I mean I know that Clause grew up in a military family, but he lives, breathes, eats, and sleeps military. It's funny though he grew up military but his friends call him the Russian 'cause he adores the Spetsnaz as soldiers, that and he has a pretty good Russian accent.

Enough thinking about nothing I need to get dressed. I went to my closet and picked out a black t-shirt and a pair of standard issue Marine Corps Combat Utility Uniform trousers. After buttoning the pants I put on my tanker boots, provided by Claude, I have absolutely no idea where he got these but I'm not complaining they are flame resistant and are better that steel-toed shoes. I went to my bathroom to quickly brush my teeth and style my hair. Even though my hair is only shoulder length I hate styling is but if I don't I walk around with a bad case of bed head.

*10-15 minutes later*

While driving to Claude's family gun range, Point-Squeeze-Reload, on my black and red Honda CBR600RR, I noticed that the freeway way was virtually empty. Truth be told I was slightly nervous about this situation, 'cause normally this freeway is packed will cars heading to the "pleasure center" of the city (No it's not what you'd think it's called the "pleasure center" because it is where the theme park, theatres, theaters, arcades, and malls are). I pushed my nervousness out of my head. I was twenty miles away form Point, Squeeze, Reload and I needed to be there fast. I slowed down just enough to safely look at my watch. Boy I wish I hadn't. It was 11:53, I had seven minutes to get there or Claude would kill me. I used the empty road to my advantage, I sped up to 85mph I knew as long as I don't meet any other drivers or pedestrians I should make it to Claude's with a minute or so to spare.

*five minutes fifty seconds later*

"Yes! Made it!" I shouted to no one in particular as I parked my CBR600RR in the front next to Claude's jet black Koenigsegg CCX. I noticed that there were a few other cars, a navy blue 2010 Shelby GT500 with white racing stripes (cliché anyone?), a 2009 Camaro Black Concept, a maroon Mitsubishi Lancer Evo X MR, a gunmetal green Nissan GT-R, and a crimson and Charcoal Dodge Viper ACR. Looking at the cars I wondered how it was that Claude always managed to attract the wealthy people from our campus to join our little under funded military club. Anyway after dismounting, and taking the key out of the ignition, my CBR600RR I opened the door to Point-Squeeze-Reload and walked into the break room that Claude was having his meeting in. When I walked in the room I noticed that Claude had already started the meeting. There were five people in the room, three males and two females. Claude, standing in the front, was towering over everyone at 6'3" (that's why I hate him I'm only 5"11 and ¾"), he had medium length dyed white hair, styled in a bed head fashion, three scars on the left side of his face from the ear to the lip, and he also wore red, non prescription contacts. He was wearing his traditional black trench coat with his white tee underneath, and had a pair of dark jeans and black steel-toed boots. Then he turned to face me, with a smug look on his face, and said to the new members, "Look at who finally decided to show up." "Prez sorry I'm late. What did I miss?" I responded embarrassingly placing my right hand on the back of my head. I mentally kicked my self in the head for stopping to look at the new member's cars. If I didn't do that I would have make it before noon. "So I guess that lunch is one me then?" I asked. "You forget about the meeting but you manage to remember the first rule of the club (the last official member, not recruits, has to pay for the club meeting's meal), you are like the club's own oxymoron, remembering rules forgetting everything else. The next two rules are not to talk about this club." said Claude. That comment managed to get the recruits to laugh. "He's right, you helped him start the club but you forget this important meeting" Said one of the two females. Looking at her I guessed that she was about 21, a freshman at this school. She was about 5'6" had medium-long (past her shoulders) black hair with red highlights, green eyes, and looked slightly Asian, possibly Chinese or Japanese. She wore an open black zip-up with a black tee underneath, and black jeans; I could also see the holster she wore on her hips. "I'm Sabri-" she started to say before I cut her off. "Sabrina Colt, heiress to the Colt fortune." I said for her. She looked confused so I felt obligated to explain myself. "I know who the major weapon manufacturers are, there families, any anything to deal with their business lives. I also know that the Springfield twins, Jonathan and Dwight, are at this school as well." Claude looked at me with an impressed expression for apparently he didn't think I knew about this. I don't blame him though we share the same classes and I struggle to keep up with the work while he gets A's on the most impossible tasks. Turning to the person next to Sabrina, an Italian by the looks of him I asked for his name. It was Enzo Trovatelli. He's about 5'8", 22 year old, and had really, short, dark brown hair. He was wearing a short sleeve oxford black shirt with an old LP shirt underneath, he also wore black jeans (those must be popular or something that's three people so far), he too had a holster but it was located under his right armpit. The girl next to him was Cerena O'Connor, Claude's current girlfriend (now that I thought about it the Mitsubishi Lancer Evo X MR looked very familiar). She was 23 years old, 5'7", Caucasian, dirty-blonde. She wore a red jacket, black cargo pants and white sneakers. The last person in the room was Hershel Lionheart, an old friend of Claude and mine. He was the runt of our group, his height being 5'7". He was the only one dressed casually; he was wearing a grey hoodie, a pair of blue jeans, and a pair of running shoes. He had enough of his red hair to cover the patch he wore over his right eye. After saying my hellos to everyone I took my spot next to Claude answering any questions about the club. Truth be told I couldn't answer anything because Claude changed our Military Weapons Tactics and Training Club to a Zombie Hunting Club just because he felt like it. Because Claude decided to change the club I sat down with the rest of the new members. Claude was now explaining all the rules, procedures, and all that good stuff. I was only half listening writing key information on a clipboard with my right hand. With my left I started to doodle, what can I say I was bored and I wanted to shoot stuff. Claude was just starting to explain the range's shooting schedule when we heard the front door slam open (if you don't understand what I mean try it for yourself). We also heard what sounded like muffled moans and growls. "Claude! We know we're late but you have got to see this! We found out why the city seems disserted! Though when you see this you'll wonder why you didn't notice something of this level was going on!" shouted two similar voices. I noted that there was a sense of fear in the voices. We all went to the front entrance. We could not believe what we were seeing. To be blunt it was a zombie that was bound, gagged, and covered in hotdogs. Everyone but the two new people laughed for a bit at the picture because we realized the zombie before he was a zombie was used as bait so his "friends" could escape. After we laughed the horrible truth sunk in: We're in the center of a zombie infested city. Not good considering the city has about 30,000 people living in it. "Well" Claude said "It looks like we have a problem on our hands. Hayden, take the twins and go to the shed out back and bring out as many of the attaché cases you can within ten minutes. Everyone else follow me to the lockers. We're going to suit up and get as prepared as we can to make it to the military base on the outskirts of this city"

A/N: hope you liked the prologue, please give me some reviews this is my first story and I would like to know if there is any thing I can do to make it better