AN: New story based on the video game Left 4 Dead 2. It's co-written by me and Sophdeloaf (look her up, she's got a bunch of cool stuff up). She wrote the first chapter and every other one.

Disclaimer

Left 4 Dead is property of Valve.

Unfortunately Ellis and Nick are too.

It's Easier to Lure Zombies with Blood than Axes -1- The Parting

The group of six lay sprawled around the safe room; none of them speaking, none of them looking at each other. It had been nearly a day since the group found a safe place, and all were drained both physically and mentally. Four girls and two boys sat stunned, unbelieving of their luck.

Until a week ago, zombies were a thing of video games. A few days ago, that's exactly what the six had been doing. Now, it was what they were still doing.

Only real.

The blonde groaned from her spot near the door, rolling over onto her side. "I'd say let's never do that again, but we've got no choice I'm afraid."

Another girl with red hair and red splattered on her face let out a noise of protest before throwing her arms in the air, earning a chuckle from the long haired boy. The small girl beside him grinned but rolled her eyes all the same. The other boy, looking worse for wear, seemed to already be passed out on one of the moldy couches in the dimly lit room. The last girl was already shuffling around, searching for supplies—no doubt the health packs which they all desperately needed.

Sighing, the blonde shakily stood and went over to her friend to help. "Hey Cas, when you find the health kits, throw a few over here. I'll get Andrew healed up while he's knocked out."

The girl with the black hair nodded before ripping open a box. She smiled, grabbing a few and throwing them over to the other girl before distributing to the rest of them.

"Brandon," the small girl addressed. The boy with the long hair looked over, "find food." So of course he obeyed and stood to search. The rest of the conscious group sniggered at the couple; not even a zombie apocalypse could change their relationship.

With Chelsea's command, the rest assumed their given tasks. Cas continued to rip open boxes in search for useful items, Brandon looked for food, Chelsea sorted and distributed ammo. Normally Andrew would take to sharpening the knives (if so called for), but the redhead, Lillian, took on his job while he was resting. The blonde, Sophie, dutifully took apart and cleaned the guns.

"I know I always said a zombie apocalypse would be exciting, but I thought it might only last a few days," grumbled Lillian.

"It's only been a few days," Chelsea retorted.

"A few more days than I would have liked," came the muffled voice from the couch.

Everyone turned to the boy on the couch. "You okay, Andrew?" Cas asked.

"Just need some rest," he confirmed. They resumed.

When all needs were met, sleep was next on the list. They could all get going again at first light…just so long as they made it through the night.

"I'll take first watch," said Sophie, "it's not like I'll get any sleep anyway."

All of her friends chose couches or sleeping bags or corners to curl into, knowing with Sophie on watch, nothing should bother them. Sophie was a short girl, with short blonde hair, and a short temper. She was one of the two in the group who had really been prepared for the apocalypse. Of course, when it first started she could hardly believe it—her crazy whims had come in handy after all. In the group of six, she could qualify as the person who was slightly (if not completely) off their rocker. She didn't care really; in her mind it did her well.

The other five woke up some time later to find their short friend painting a small landscape on one wall with what seemed like…blood. Upon further inspection, Cas noticed a still zombie sprawled at her feet.

"Figures," she said.

Cas, though not one of the two fully prepared for the event, was the most likely to survive this whole ordeal. She was strong, smart, and a fast learner. After listening to a small tutorial on how to survive the apocalypse (according to Sophie and Lillian) and an learn-on-the-run lesson on how to shoot a gun, she was for the most part, good to go. Her coloured two front strips of hair shook from side to side as she shook her head. She should have expected it from Sophie.

Letting out a little chuckle she picked up her Desert Eagle, strapped on a health pack and an axe and waited patiently for everyone else to follow suit. As she waited, she looked down at herself—at least she had worn something comfy. A cotton, long sleeved red shirt, a pair of jeans, and sneakers; simple and colour appropriate. The only person who wasn't wearing something comfortable, she noted, was Sophie, who was dressed in a black blouse, a white skirt (or, at least, it used to be), and flimsy sandals.

Still, she was always the first one to leave the safe room.

After a few hours their lively run turned more into a…laboured trot. At this time the group decided it was best to take a short break in what was supposed to be a medical tent. Needless to say, there were a few very ill zombies inside.

"Plaid shirt mother fuckers," Lillian spat. Over the past few hours she had developed a growing hatred for plaid shirts. None of them could blame her.

After the fevered comment, the six lapsed into silence, hoping to not attract any unwanted attention. Chelsea stayed near the door with a sniper rifle at the ready, and already the rest could say she had saved them a few times.

How had they ended up in Savannah anyway? Sophie pondered this question, chewing on her bottom lip. They had been visiting Lillian's relatives because, according to her, they were involved in mafia business. They never got to find out if she had mafia blood in her—the zombies got there first. They shouldn't even be in Savannah! A deep scowl set itself onto her face. They were supposed to drive right through and get back to Canada, or at least closer to the border. All of her survival things were at home, the rest of her survival "team" was at home, and she hated all of this sunlight. Being a pale girl by nature, being trapped in the light for so long produced a red burn across her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. She looked constantly flustered.

Mind you, her friends hadn't been faring so well either. Lillian was completely pink, and Andrew looked as though he might suffer from heat stroke at any given moment.

"Uh, guys," all looked over to Chelsea, who was now standing and ready. "They're coming!"

Whispered curses were flung around the group as they all sprang to attention and grabbed their weapons. A large group of zombies hurtled towards them; among them was a tank.

"Shoot the tank!" screamed Lillian, already holding down the trigger of her gun. All six aimed and squeezed their triggers, and still the tank charged closer. A fine sweat collected on everyone's foreheads until their nerves broke.

"Just run!" shouted Andrew. The group abandoned post and took off sprinting opposite the direction they came. It was too late. The tank was too close. Before he even had time to cry out in surprise, Andrew was thrown half way down the street in the other direction and the tank immediately followed his airborne frame.

Lillian took off running toward the tank. "I'm coming buddy!" she cried.

"Wh-what? Lillian!" exclaimed Chelsea before running off after her.

Brandon didn't miss a beat, running off after her "Chelsea!"

"Guys!" Cas called, unable to follow due to the swarm.

"Shit," muttered Sophie, helping Cas out with the slowly diminishing number of zombies.

The two girls were breathing heavily when the last zombie was taken out. Taking in their new surroundings, it was quickly noticed that they had traveled some distance from where they has started with the tank. In fact, they couldn't even hear the sounds of a tank struggle anymore.

Sharing a look, the two turned around, only to be faced with a sea of cars.

Cas looked over at Sophie again, who was now sporting a scowl that could set the cars aflame had the cars understood her look. She whistled lowly before stating what both of them were thinking.

"Well, damn."