A/N: I hate these note things so there won't be all that many in this story.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the survivors and the plot. The Green Flu and the special infected are property of Valve.

There, the story has been officially disclaimed. On to the story!

Oh and before I forget, I am a first time writer, any critique would be much appreciated.

R&R

Prologue

We had it all planned out. It was probably the easiest plan of all time. Go in, get the stuff, and get out. That simple. What we hadn't planned on…an alarm. Well, as you can probably imagine, that went over like a ton of bricks.

I am the first in the group to hear it, a chorus of inhuman cries.

"Shit." I mumble under my breath. "We've got company!" I shout, trying to stay calm, to my rag tag group of survivors.

As soon as the words escape my lips, Julio, the sniper of the group, starts firing into the horde. Five shots, four dead. He's good, but he's not perfect. I swiftly shove the closest zombie away from me with my M4 carbine, who was promptly shot in the head by Julio, and fire a grenade from the M203 under-mount on my rifle, effectively cutting the hordes umbers by half. Chris went charging headlong into the fray with an M9 pistol, while Shawna threw a pipe bomb, narrowly avoiding Chris' head, that the majority of the horde followed. About three seconds later, a red mist cloud appeared, following an explosion. Together, we finish off the last of the stragglers.

"All right!" I yell, "Grab what you can and get back to the bus!"

Every one stands in a hush. Chris who was currently my second in command, decides to break the silence.

"Well? You heard the man. Move!"

The group then scatters into the store in groups of two. Chris and I, Julio and Shawna, Jeremy and Dajuan, and Josh keeps the bus moving around the parking lot.

I faintly hear Julio yell something about pills. After a few minutes, Chris and I find what we needed the most, ammunitions. We start filling two of our four duffel bags.

"Thank God for Wal-marts, huh?" Chris says, trying to make conversation. I ignore him, instead I was straining to hear a soft cry. "Lights off, I hear a Witch." I whisper. The only reply I receive is the darkness of Chris' flash light as we both become alert.

I see her. She is pretty for a Witch, not as pale. I can tell she used to be a brunette, because of the brown tint to her hair.

Just as we pass her though, Dajuan shouts something about a Tank nearby and startles the Witch while Chris and I were literally three feet from her. She stands up slowly and raises her arms at the same speed. She lets out a gut wrenching shriek.

"RUN!" I yell frantically. We take off at a dead sprint. Left. Left. Right. Left. Right. Tank. Fuck. Turn around. Witch. Fuck. Split up. Witch gets Tanked. Hell yeah!

We are all together again and the Tank falls under our combined fire.

"Shit…" is all that is said.

After a brief moment to catch our breaths and let our heart rates to return to normal. Some of us still trying to control our shaking. Jeremy runs off and returns a few minutes later carrying six large duffel bags of food and water.

"Lets hurry up and get back home." I say coolly. Home. There's no such thing as Home any more. Nothing is normal. The apocalypse happened and there are three basic things you need to survive, a mind that thinks, and two hands that kill.

End Prologue