A/N: My first Left 4 dead story :) This chapter is very short, but it's really just to see if anyone will read it. The chapters after this will be much longer and it's rated M for language,violence and possible character death.

It wasn't everyday zombies took over your hometown. The un-dead swarming the streets and feeding off the living was just another plot for the next headlining movie. One of those horror movies where the audience sit devouring cups of popcorn, humouring the fictional survivors as they flee for their life from 'zombies' because in reality, it would never happen to them. Then along comes that ridiculous day you never expected, where the news is telling you the dead are coming back to life and eating everything human they come into contact with...Suddenly the so called movie is now real life, but nobody laughs then...

"It's bullshit...Absolute fucking bullshit!"

An oxygen can was sent crashing across the concrete as Nick connected his foot with the useless piece of equipment. Fury carved across the gamblers face, fists clenched into tight balls ready to connect with anything or anyone that came close.

Crimson orange flames cut away against the dying sky, smoke pluming into dark clouds. The massacred body of a helicopter lay pathetically under the fire and smoke, the same helicopter which was supposed to be the bringer of freedom to the 4 remaining survivors. The zombies swarmed around it like they would a jar of boomer bile. Maybe attracted to the flames, maybe to the chance to rip at something or maybe because somewhere deep in their dead, decayed brains they knew they were destroying a method of escape. The latter was impossible with un-dead beings, but so far these zombies were doing a hell of a good job at preventing the survivors from escaping.

"What do we do now?" came Rochelle's meek voice from her slumped position on the floor, fingers clutched around her handgun as if she was half debating to shoot each zombie or just merely throw the weapon at the group of un-dead "Sweet Jesus...I was so looking forward to having a shower as well."

Ellis, who had taken a seat on a collapsed dumpster near Coach, pulled his dirt ridden hat off his head and sighed. Exhausted from the lack of sleep and constant need to be on the move, things were starting to take their toll on his happy-go-lucky persona and pushing the hick into a state of defeat. Helicopter destroyed, where was there to go? New Orleans was the final point of extraction and who knew what the military now had planned as they superseded CEDA and were now in control of quarantining this whole zombie mess.

"I guess we have to keep moving, we can find a safe room for the night then come up with a plan tomorrow," spoke Coach as he lifted the blood stained cricket bat onto his shoulder.

"Brilliant plan Coach, a safe room, the answer to all our problems," Nick mocked

Coach ignored the gambler's comment. He was becoming used to Nick's crap, discovering the best way to deal with it was to ignore him as soon as the nasty comments began to pour out his mouth. Rochelle pushed herself to her feet, her eyes still watching the zombie onslaught. None of the un-dead had even noticed the survivors stood there, focusing solely on just destroying the chopper. Ellis pushed his cap back onto his head, glancing up at the sky quickly as a raindrop fell against his cheek.

Now to face even more days of this zombie apocalypse...