Disclaimer: I do not own the main characters to The Office. They are owned by MSNBC. I do own the rest.
The day came when they had to leave. Everyone was prepared. Jennifer and Charles debated at length about what to do with the supplies. They had earlier wanted to leave it to some others, but the night before they were set to leave they heard automatic weapons fire and zombies in the distance. They were closing in. Both of them. They couldn't leave all of this to an enemy that sought to wipe them out. All of the extra ammunition, food, fuel, medical supplies, all of them were wired up with demolition charges, including thermite grenades set with two hour delays. The children were instructed to keep quite at all times and Michael would stay with them and their mother to ensure that happened. The soldiers, McCarthy, Jennifer, Charles, would take the lead with the armed office workers and dock workers taking up the rear. The route was planned and two hours before dawn they received the radio call that the helicopters were enroute to their landing zone, a grass covered spur two kilometers distant. Everyone that could was carrying supplies and firepower, even Erin who trembled at the thought of firing a rifle at anyone. As they headed out, Charles pulled the pins on the M81 igniters to a series of wires and charges and hustled out.
Each one of them paused to look at their house, their Solace, for so long. They didn't want to give it up. It had kept them safe for so long, so many memories were made there. Erin made sure she was taking her diary with her so the memories wouldn't be lost with time. Angela kept her head down. She was leaving, but didn't want to leave Dwight. There had been no contact with him or with Mose. She prayed that he was still alive, but knew she couldn't get to him on her own and no amount of persuasion would get any of the others to follow her to his farm. She had no choice but leave him to his fate.
There had been a change to the plan. The demands of operations only relegated that four old Huey helicopters flown by either 'volunteer's or National Guard to be sent to pick them up. As long as they got out of there, the survivors didn't care.
The march was long and painful, moving through tall grass in the predawn hours, there was low branches and people tripping over things and the fear of zombies nearby with the snap of every branch made their jump. In the distance there was a glowing light on the horizon, like a large city with all of their millions of lights on. What was it? It cast a bright contrast to the black sky above. Then they saw the smoke blowing to the East, it was a holocaust.
Because of the children and the false alarms, the party didn't reach the edge of the landing zone until just before dawn. McCarthy and the other military personnel climbed to the top of the grass covered spur and carefully scanned the area. The landing zone was a plot of long grass five acres big, large enough for a helicopter to touch down in with a thick tree line in the distance.
Keying their radio, they sent in the coded message that they reached the LZ and were securing it. That's when Charles felt his veteran senses tingling. It silent out. No birds in the trees. Putting the rifle stock to his shoulder he nodded to the others who raised up their weapons and cracked off three shots each into the tree line. Their bullets zipped out into the distance. There was a pause. Then the whole world erupted in fire.
Bullets cracked over the heads of the office workers who huddled below the spur. "Oh my God!" Angela cried over and over with her head buried between her legs. Jim wanted to stand up to see what was happening, but Pam grasped him by the belt buckle and pulled him down. The others kept their weapons up and scanned their area expecting an attack, but the fire was on those on the edge of the landing zone.
Jennifer picked up the radio saying, "The LZ is hot! I say again, the LZ is hot!" Her words carried through the airwaves prompting the helicopter's escort, four old A-1E Skyraiders, salvaged from some museum, to take the lead. They were twenty minutes out and for those twenty minutes the group held on. The Militia had automatic weapons, some captured military hardware, but their ultimate weapons was, the undead. Large sirens, air horns, and noise makers were thrown over to the opposite end of the landing zone then came staggering figures, undead by the score with blinders on or their eyes gouged out. They used their hearing and followed the noise makers towards the survivors.
Rolling over to Charles, Jennifer asked, "Do you want to pull some of the workers up her to the line?"
"No!" Charles replied, "Keep them them down there. If the Sandies come, tell them to hit the LZ and into the tree line. They're safer down there."
Bullets cracked many times as the kids cried out in terror and buried their faces into their mother's body as Michael tried to hug her as well. She didn't think of it at first as the fight escalated. The dock workers wanted to get in on the fight, but Darryl kept them in place. "We have a job to do here," he told them. "Stay here, watch your areas. Don't want them getting in behind us." So they stayed hidden behind stones or in the tall grass as they listened to the battle raging nearby.
The zombies lumbered towards them, following the noises. One dropped with a head shot, but the others kept coming. McCarthy shot down two more as they were halfway across the field, but the others kept coming. The cold chill rolled up their spines as the undead came in. The zombies were an almost perfect weapon, can't feel pain or fear, but they couldn't have their mind altered to followed external orders-only the primitive ones in their decayed heads. When one came up to the line Charles pounced on it and smashed its head open with his e-tool. Another lumbered in flailing its thin arms at something it couldn't see. Jennifer tripped it with her feet and smashed its head in with a rock.
Much to the dismay of the Militia, the zombies were being taken care of with ease, so they launched their big attack with a wave of men all firing automatic weapons into the open. The tips of the tall grass were being clipped as Charles and the others buried their faces into the ground to avoid the fire. Low hanging branches were broken off and came crashing down covering the soldiers.
There was a scream on the radio, "Targets in the open!"
Now the Sandies came in. The pilots rolled the massive machines towards them and saw the black dots in the tall green grass and squirted the area with cannon fire. The pilots began calling out threats in and around the LZ to the helicopter pilots just five minutes behind them. A Sandie came in low and dropped two large canisters that when it struck the ground erupted into intense red and yellow flame. Napalm. The air was sucked from the lungs of those nearby and they fell. A few were caught on fire, including some of the zombies who had their legs shot off in the cross fire. They burned and the grass burned.
Picking up the radio Charles started calling in runs on their position.
In the lead Huey there was an old man with slightly sagging jowls, narrow blue eyes. He sat in the pilot's seat clutching the stick tightly with one hand and the other pressing the console. On his helmet was an old 'Major' insignia painted. His old body knew about courage under fire, about harsh realities, and about loss. Being back in the cockpit again of a Huey he was at first giddy about it until the screams on the radio brought him back to reality.
"No!" the pilot gasped as his old, but still sharp, eyes followed one of the Skyraiders as it made its run. The white and black smoke rising up, followed by the crackling voice on the radio calling for more runs on their position sent a cold shiver up his spine that made him utter, "No. Not again." The Skyraiders went up and down the landing zone spraying their 20mm cannon and dumping the last of their ordinance. The fire was spreading and the smoke was masking the helicopters approach and the fire from the Militia was starting slacken. They called the helos in.
Jennifer came running down the spur hunched forward at the waist shouting, "They're coming in. Keep your head down and go for the first two helicopters," holding up two fingers. "Get in and hang on. We'll follow you guys out on the second one."
The putter of the Hueys grew and the eyes of everyone twisted to find them. They saw them! Counting 1-2-3-4! "Okay. Here they come. On your feet. Stay low and keep going!" Jennifer shouted one last time, "Go!"
When they tried to rise the fire continued and they paused only for Jennifer to bark one more time to go. Running out with their heads low, they saw green smoke marking their position and the first two Hueys came in low until their skids were just a foot off the ground, but they didn't touch it. Running into the field, running scared with their blood coursing, their faces pale white. Michael, the mother, and the kids ran for the first helicopter followed by Toby, Pam, and Jim. A couple others, Pam and Jim, also made a run for the first helicopter before the others went for the second one. It was over in seconds. They all piled into the birds and they lifted off, taking fire, machine guns chattering away. When the third Huey came down the others rapidly jumped in. The pick up took less than a minute. All of them were on board and they left behind a smoke choked plot of land in its wake.
Seeing the area shrink away in the distance, Pam cried and collapsed into Jim's arms.
(Five months later)
Hi, Diary
It's been a long time. Sorry. Nothing personal, but things have been quite busy. We all made it to Rhode Island. All of us. It was crazy. When we left our home and went to the hill, our LZ-see! I can talk military! :P- we were waiting for the helicopters and that's when some people attacked us. I was down the slope with Michael, Pam, and Jim, and the kids, but the bullets were going over our head and scaring us. Charles, Jennifer, McCarthy and the others were up there fighting them. Some jets flew in and dropped fire and I could feel the heat so far away, then the helicopters came in. We all went running for them. I could hear something snapping above my head, so I kept low and kept running until we were on board. I boarded one and McCarthy and the other soldiers jumped into another. As we took off we could see the forest was on fire, a lot of black smoke covered the area. Down there in the grass I could see tiny figures there, but I couldn't tell if they were people or zombies or whatever. It wasn't until we reached Rhode Island that we learned we had everyone, but we were immediately taken away for medical examination. I was isolated for two days, they took you away, diary, and ran a bunch of tests. When I was cleared, I was given a job working in a building busing papers. That's the one thing I hate about this place, I have to work, and it's not for pay-it's for room and board and rations. Money is all but useless right now. We barter. I would get sweets with my rations and share it with the others. I live in a small barracks with other non-military women. I haven't seen Pam or the others, but a couple of days ago, by dumb luck, I ran into McCarthy! She's a sergeant now and we hugged like old friends and spent a couple of hours going over everything that had happened since we last saw each other. She met with Charles and Jennifer, they're fighting the Militia in Pennsylvania as well as the zombies. New York City is overrun. There was talk of nuking it, but the military might try something else, something called 'fire bombing'. Michael and the other guys from Dunder Mifflin have been scattered all over the place. They were evaluated on their 'training' and 'abilities' and sent to different places. Pam, apparently, is a day care worker and Jim is destroying papers. I didn't think they would be put there, but they live together and they found their daughter and Pam's mother, so, I'm happy for that. Michael, on the other hand, kept getting himself into trouble with the military, sticking his nose into things that he had no business in, and was arrested and charged with something and put in jail. McCarthy said that chances were he would be put in a penal unit and sent to do jobs no one else wants to do. That's a shame. Michael may be a bit of an idiot, I can't believe I said that. In my old job I couldn't say that or I'd get fired, but now that I'm free-yeah, he was a bad boss, an idiot, but I don't wish him ill will. The other office workers and dock workers all got jobs elsewhere. They're doing fine, as far as I know. But, I asked McCarthy about Dwight and his cousin Mose on Schrute Farms. She said, the last that any of them saw of that place, it had been overrun by the zombies and fire bombed. Nothing was left of it except a large patch of blackness. I felt a pit open in my stomach. What a horrible way to go. McCarthy had to get going, we hugged, exchanged numbered and addresses before she left then gave me a kiss on the cheek. I'm starting to like this place. :)"
The End