Aaron Linde:
It's taken a good stretch of time, but gamers are finally getting to see cooperative play blossom in ways that, five years ago, we could only dream of; fully-fledged campaigns tailored for the cooperative experience, a brisk alternative to a decade-long reign of the deathmatch. If you're a fan of zombies and co-op and find yourself inescapably gleeful at the prospect of combining one with the other, you've probably watched the development of Valve's Left 4 Dead with great anticipation. I'm right there with you. And like me, your expectations might be extremely--even unfairly--high. But the experience itself is so thoroughly realized, so well composed, that once you get your hands on Left 4 Dead you'll wonder how we ever put up with anything less.

Having peeked at an impressions post or two, I had an idea of what to expect from Left 4 Dead's ground-up cooperative design, but it's an altogether different experience when sampled firsthand. An embodiment of the Valve design philosophy, almost every element of gameplay is geared towards emphasis of teamwork, though none is so tailored as the interplay between the human players and the walking dead that hunt them. While a single human player can handle a sizable group of zombies well enough alone, the real risk of breaking away from the pack is coming face to face with a "boss" zombie, the consequences of which was our first hard lesson in Left 4 Dead. Just a single level in, the rules of the game were clear: Stay together to stay alive.

Once the threat of my imminent doom had been firmly established by an encounter with a Smoker--a boss zombie who ensnares the unwary with its tongue, dragging them away from the party and hanging them to death--the tension was dramatically amped. Suddenly I was checking corners, keeping a constant watch on the locations of my teammates, and frantically reloading my weapon after every skirmish with the hungry dead. The mood is insistent and permeates every level that we played throughout our demonstration, coming to a head with every assault by the hordes of zombies in our path.

While a great deal can be said about the game that surrounds the instances of combat, from a personal perspective it was our first major flood of zombies that really made me get it. Nearing our first safe house where we could finally take shelter, regroup and patch ourselves up, I was suddenly assaulted by a Boomer's projectile vomit, drawing scores of zombies to my crunchy, delicious flesh. The door was near; we blasted our way through wave after wave, getting three of our four asses through the door to safety. One survivor hadn't yet made it, and while waiting for him we had to deal with many more zombies rushing at us through the open door. Would we leave him behind to save ourselves? How long could we hold out?

Emptying an untold number of clips at the shambling dead, our lone straggler eventually made it through, and we managed to shut the door behind him. Faylor and I breathed a simultaneous sigh of relief. We had survived, and the feeling was authentic, palpable. In the back of my head I remarked that I had just experienced the most intense zombie horror flick I'd ever seen, and actually played a part in its unfolding. Left 4 Dead makes an unforgettable "first play," and one that will stick with me for awhile.

Cooperative play has grown in leaps and bounds over the last few years, but no game has refined and developed the experience so completely as we've seen in this early build of Left 4 Dead. The foundation for an unforgettable experience is definitely there. Though the game is still very unfinished--animation and sound bugs, and the occasional curious gameplay quirk, pop up from time to time--the hardest work, building that memorable experience, is already done.

For more on Left 4 Dead, check out the Shack's past coverage, which includes more hands-on impressions, a preview, and an interview with Turtle Rock CEO Michael Booth.