Disclaimer: I do not own the characters to The Office. They are owned by NBC.
It was winter in Scranton, Pennsylvania, yet there was still no snow on the ground. However, it was freezing. Inside their heated building those of Dunder-Mifflin Paper were just tapping on their keyboards, calculators, and answering phones as outside there was something happening. Dwight Schrute, assistant-to-the regional manager of the office came running into the office panting for breath, as if he had been running for a mile. His desk mate Jim looked over to his right from his seat and rather nonchalantly, "What's up, Dwight?"
"There are zombies outside, folks," the man said loudly and pointed with one hand back from which he came. Erin of reception lifted up her head puzzled from her work.
"So, wait, there are zombies outside the building?" Jim said still sitting in his chair rather relaxed and not believing the rants of a guy he has worked with known to be paranoid beyond belief.
"Yes," Dwight said then his eyes looked at the rest of the office whom did also not believe the story. Even Phyllis merely scoffed and went back to work as Stanley picked up the phone for another call to a client. There was the resumed casual chatter before the front door of the office flung open and Michael came charging in, his suit a mess, mouth agape, and eyes jut open to their fullest extent.
"Michael, what is it?" Erin rose up from her seat, face showing fear.
"Oh my God!" her boss screamed, "They just ate the I.T. guy!"
Heads immediately swiveled around as Michael stood there, panting for breath, then he collapsed to the floor. Dwight rushed in and picked Michael off the floor and began examining his boss for bite marks.
As he was coming to Pam turned her chair around and asked, "Who ate Saqid?" as Michael shooed off Dwight and collected himself on the small couch beside Erin's desk.
"No. The IT guy," Michael coughed.
"That's his name," she corrected but Michael waved her off.
"He deserved it anyway. He was a terrorist but still. There are zombies outside the office!" he yelled again.
Downstairs Hank, head of security, locked the doors to the building as Dwight came downstairs brandishing a Katana blade that he had hidden above a ceiling tile. "What's the situation?" Dwight asked as Hank slumped into his chair behind his desk that was beside the door, his hands bleeding. He pulled out a first aid kit he kept under the desk to tend to his wounds as Dwight leaned over, "Hank, you've been bit?" his voice panting and words rushed.
"No, Dwight I fell," the black security guard grumbled as he ripped open an ointment packet and spread it over his cuts that made him wince slightly in pain.
"No, no, you've been bit! You're gonna turn. It's only a matter of time," his hands began gripping the grip of the blade tightly, "Before you turn."
Calmly Hank paused in what he was doing and looked up at this man and said, "Dwight, I fell down and cut my hands on some rocks," then he continued his cleaning. Looking outside Dwight could see the two zombies devouring what was left of Sadiq in the parking lot, their backs to him as he pressed his face against the glass, hot breath fogging up the screen. In a few minutes Michael, still somewhat delirious, came downstairs and looked outside at the two zombies. Resting beside the body was Saqid's turban that the zombies ignored. Turning to Hank behind the desk the boss asked, "Hank, go out there and shoot them."
"I don't think so," slowly wrapping his right hand in some gauze and bandage tape.
"Why not?" Michael gasped as his eyes were still fixated on the feasting ghouls.
"I don't have a gun and even if I did I'm not going out there," Hank replied.
"Why don't you have a gun?" Michael suddenly jerked his head over to Hank, eyes hanging open in fear.
"The building wouldn't allow it. To have one they have to pay insurance in case I'd have to use it," Hank said.
"Cheap bastards," Michael scoffed turning around and going back upstairs. On his coat tails Dwight informed his boss, "Michael I got weapons. I got Katanas, shurikans, sai, short swords. You name it I got it." Pausing mid-way up the stairs Michael turned his face suddenly aglow.
"Well, that's good but do you have any guns?"
"No. It's easier to get a sword than a 1911. No paperwork," Dwight said shrugging his shoulders. "Besides. Killing zombies with a Katana is better than using a gun. You don't..."
Frustrated Michael went back to the office as some of his subordinates were trying to get ahold of anyone on the outside. Bob Vance of Vance Refrigeration and Phyllis' husband worked out of the warehouse downstairs came up to comfort his worried wife. Stanley, whom sat across from Phyllis, picked up his phone again but there was no dial tone now and Phyllis lost her internet connection around the same time. Pam, Oscar, Ryan, and Jim tried their cell phones. All lines were dead. They even tried the lines connecting the offices in the building and still got nothing. Erin told this to Michael as they returned, "Shit!" Michael screamed, then bolted into his office and locked the door.
"Is he alright?" Angela appeared around the edge of her cubicle with Oscar and Kevin in accounting with her. No one answered as there was a heavy "thud" noise on the other side of the door. There was a glass wall beside the door but it was shuttered and when Dwight knocked there was no answer. Thus, with Michael seemingly incapacitated Dwight assumed control although technically Jim was second in command yet he remained silent as he looked over at Pam whom was worried and trying to dial her mother on her cell phone again and again but never connecting. They had left their daughter with her because Helene wanted her new grand-daughter to spoil and hug.
Trying to usurp control over the situation Dwight stood before Erin's desk and raised his voice, "People, people, listen up. The front gate is open. Anyone can get in here including the zombies. We have to shut the gate and lock it. As property manager I will…appoint one of you to brave the charge and close the gate." and they immediately showed their unwillingness to volunteer for a suicide mission to cross the parking lot. Hank was still behind the desk, hands wrapped up but still bleeding. After trying the phone a couple of times and giving up he looked at the security monitors that showed the entire perimeter of the lot and saw a figure come charging through the open gate. "Oh, shit" he muttered picking up his baton as the figure seemed to be charging right for the front door. When he got to the door that figure was now walking towards him instead; a man in uniform holding a machete and behind him the zombies lay on the pavement; heads cleaved open. The figure came up and calmly knocked on the glass.
"What are we supposed to do?" Oscar asked as his office workers began to get up from their desks and move towards Dwight.
"We can get shit faced," Creed said from his desk. He was the only one not scared or even worried for his feet where on his desk and he reclined in his chair. Laid back compared to Kevin when sensing the desperation rushed into the vending machine room and took a chair to one of them to gather up the goodies. Kelly Kapoor that worked in the back offices with Toby came running in and hugged Ryan tightly, "Ryan, Ryan, this will be our last night on Earth. Let's make love."
"Well, okay" Ryan gave in and the two disappeared into one of the bathrooms as Toby of human resources came out to join the others oblivious to what was transpiring. "Hey, guys, is anyone having internet and phone problems?" His voice was mellow not excited, "I was online and it just went dead." His hands were in his pockets as the others were rapidly punching numbers on phones and ignored him. Meredith, whom sat across from Creed, took the opportunity and took a heavy swig from a bottle of whiskey in her drawer and Creed smiled and asked, "Can I have some of that?"
There was banter back and forth from the office mates. Jim was trying assure his love that their baby Cecelia was just fine with Helene as the former could not get ahold of her mother. Angela could not reach her home and her cats, and Oscar could not reach his parents and were going to give up when a strange voice interrupted their thoughts.
"Hello," a figure walked in covered head to toe in military uniform in what could be described as green with black stripes, a heavy, bulging backpack on his shoulders and in his hand was a rifle and that soiled machete in the other. His voice was casual though somewhat fatigued perhaps from being on the run but when he spoke the other paused in what they were doing and looked up. Shrugging off his rucksack on the small couch beside Erin's semi-circle desk and sheathing his machete behind his back the man looked around at the office space and all those present were apprehensive to see someone with a firearm in his hands, a total stranger, and there were zombies outside.
"Who are you?" Erin was the first to ask as her back was pressed against the cubicle wall that was behind her desk separating her space from Angela's.
"I'm Charles," he removed his bucket hat from his head and ran his hand over his crew-cut dark hair, "I saw your light on and decided to pay a visit." He was rather casual about the fact he just tip toed through a mine field of sorts. "Who are you guys?"
The first to introduce himself was Dwight, his left hand holding his blade he approached the man in uniform and offered his hand to shake, "I'm Dwight Shrute property-manager of this office park."
"So, you're in charge?"
"Well, I..."
Jim looked around Dwight whilst still seated in his chair, "Actually, Michael's our boss but he's kinda out of it," pointing with his thumb at the nearby closed door.
"Is he alright?" Charles enquired, "He's not sick is he?"
"Oh, no, no," Jim smiled, "He likes to take naps during the end of the world."
There was a pause in conversation until Erin spoke out, "So, wait, you were out there?" directing her question to the newly arrived Charles.
"Yes."
"Is it bad?" Pam was next to asking. Her face pale white and hands trembling as she clutched her useless cell phone.
He paused for a moment and looked at Pam. He wanted to say something to calm her but he could not lie. These people deserved the truth, "It's bad, folks. Very bad." Gasps and muttering flooded the room but Charles was heard over them, "I was out there and police and sheriffs were pulling out of town. Zombies are in the streets, in homes, alley ways, a few are even inside vehicles like sardines."
Jim asked a question, "Why did you come here then?"
"I was on my way out of town after hearing news reports of vicious attacks on my neighbors. But a couple of blocks from here some idiot T-boned my vehicle so I had to hot foot it to some place safe and this looks like a good spot."
"How did you get past the zombies in the parking lot?" Jim continued.
"I took care of them. Closed and locked the gate. Your security guard downstairs looks pretty bad, though."
"Yeah, I think he's been bit" Dwight said loudly, still clutching his katana but Charles did not believe so.
"Those wounds on his hands are not bite marks but they do go deep. Does anyone here have a sewing kit to close the wounds?" Charles asked and Erin rummaged through her bag and pulled out a small plastic case with thread and needles. "Good, do you think you can sew the wounds shut?"
"I've…I've never done something like that before. I'm squeamish around blood," she began biting her lower lip.
"I can do it" Dwight immediately jumped up.
Holding up a hand, "No, I prefer someone that would be more focused on sewing than taking the guy's head off," flicking a look at the thick glasses of the tie wearing dork then back at Erin whom was now trembling in apprehension. "Can you do it?" he asked again.
She nodded, "Sure. I'll give it a shot." Taking it up she went downstairs.
Looking at those that remained Charles said, "Looks like we're not going anywhere for a while. Might as well begin fortifying. All we have to right now is move everything upstairs, jam the elevator, and block the stair wells."
Dwight smiled, already liking this man because of his knowledge and organization, "Yes, yes, and fill up every container with water. This place will be our head-quarters!"
Nodding Charles continued, "There's no telling how much longer we'll have water or power so we best use them while we can. Every clean container needs to be filled as well as all the food you guys have and every weapon."
The office workers muttered to one another and some began to comply when Michael's door opened and the haggard looking boss took a few steps outside and saw all eyes focused on him. As the boss he was the leader in times of a crisis. They weathered budget cuts, layoffs, and business losses but when he came out they, for some reason, looked at him for guidance. Taking a deep breath to relax he yelled, "We are so doomed! We're dead!" his voice strained as he let it out then then clapped his hands once, "That's it. We're finished. Game over, man. Game over!" Looking over at this man, this suppose leader, Charles shook his head slightly and started towards the back. When he was leaving Dwight held up his hand and proclaimed loudly, "This is a zombie apocalypse, folks. We're under siege. This will be our home or our grave."
"Yipee," Jim threw down his pencil onto his desk.