All this time I believed that I would be among the survivors in the impending apocalypse, downing scavenged brews and swapping stories with my buds on a rooftop, because I had a plan. I knew where to meet, which bike could best out-maneuver the masses of arthritic flesh, and picked out the perfect blunt-weapon for some Casey Jones-style justice. Jamaican sprinters turned undead were not part of the plan and, being so accident-prone and all, me and an Uzi are a disaster in the making. It’s time to face facts. I am screwed.

What do the four survivors of Left 4 Dead (L4D) have that I don’t? Beats me. L4D doesn’t bother with the luxuries of storytelling, but it’s hard to care while 200 gnarled fingers grapple for your throat. Like a grindhouse horror flick, it’s set to kick you through the mulcher and fertilize the streets with blood from the moment you press Start. Comparing the reanimated meatbags to those of 28 Days Later hardly seems adequate, unless you mix in one part Planet Terror and a bit of The Thing for flavor. They charge at full bore, smash through doors, and climb fences with ease. In short, they are the zombie-survivalist’s worst nightmare.

L4D is the antithesis of traditional survival-horror, so disregard your notions of methodical progression and solving puzzles through blog-quality poetry. Every decision is rash, the only horror comes from the unyielding waves of death, and Rambo at an NRA convention couldn’t plow through so much ammo. Eight firearms, ranging from pistols to shotguns and a mini-gun, round out a decent selection of weapons that includes some nasty pipe-bombs—I still question the usefulness of a hunting rifle though. For a proper zombie roast, look no further than the incendiary wonders of Molotovs and gas cans. They aren’t the most destructive weapons, but the only thing more fun than wasting zombies by the truckload is wasting truckloads of zombies on fire.

The manic hordes aren’t the only creatures lurking about, and truth be told, are the least of your worries. Boomers waddle through the city like tumor-ridden stomachs ready to spew a horde-attracting concoction of bile upon survivors. Smokers lash out with prehensile tongues to drag their victims away. Hunters bound from rooftops and Tanks plow through walls like Hulk on a steroid overdose. Lastly, and possibly the most dangerous, are the Witches sobbing in the darkness, whose talons are capable of gutting any group careless enough to disturb her. Any hope of seeing the sunrise requires a keen eye, decisive action, and most of all, teamwork.

Whether you play alone, in two-player split screen, or with three friends online, you are always one of four survivors, with no options for character-customization unfortunately. Unlike the attempts to create a multiplayer apocalypse in the Resident Evil: Outbreak games, lone wolves have no place in L4D, lest they abandon a companion to the inescapable clutches of a Hunter, or find themselves dangling lifelessly from a Smoker’s tongue with no one to save them. Each survivor has an obligation to protect his/her comrades from the Boomer’s swarms and heal the injured. It might be your butt that needs saving the next time around, and after three strikes, you’re out until the next safe house.