While the days seemed to drag by unmercifully slow, before anyone in the office realized it, nearly two full weeks had passed since the world had turned upside down and the six of them had found themselves trapped together. For the most part, everyone stuck close together, too scared to be alone. Not surprisingly, Jonathan was the only noticeable exception. The others spent their nights camped out in cube land together on the sleeping bags and air mattresses they'd raided from the sporting goods department downstairs. They usually ate together in the breakroom, sitting down together like they were family. The cooking and cleaning up after their meals everyone too a turn with too. Jonathan, on the other hand, kept himself separated from the others, choosing to spend both his days and his nights locked up tight in his private office, doing everything in there.

Sometime during the end of the first week, Aaron's plan to keep someone monitoring the radio 24/ 7 completely fell through the cracks. Somewhere along the way, a silent mutiny took place with nobody but Aaron himself showing up to take their shifts. It was all part of the universally helpless feeling they all felt each and every time they looked out the windows and saw the world outside, or else listened to the empty static of the CB radio channels. To combat the feeling, Matthew instigated nightly poker and euchre games that generally ran almost through till the early morning. It was easier to sit out on the roof at night, a stolen radio playing stolen cd's in the background along with the conversations and laughter helping to drown out the moans of the monsters camouflaged by the black of night. For a few stolen moments, they were able to pretend that life was almost normal. During the day, they'd sleep, raid the department store, or else play games appropriated from the store. The days were definitely the hardest part to get through.

It was during a late night euchre game that Emily, Aaron, Thomas and Matthew found themselves alone on the rooftop. Matthew, acting as the host, had some Tim McGraw blaring from the radio, and kerosene lanterns placed all around the roof, which had it glowing almost as brightly as daytime.

"You know, in a couple more weeks those things are really going to start smelling pretty ripe," Thomas commented as he dealt the next hand. Nobody needed to ask what 'things' he was talking about as the occasional moan echoing through the streets drown out the music.

"Please, the stench can't get any worse than Jonathan and his office," Emily replied, sorting through her hand. "Speaking of Jonathan, has anyone actually seen him lately? Or do you think it smells so bad in there because he's dead and rotting and none of us has really cared enough to notice?"

"Oh, I don't think he's dead. Otherwise he probably would have tried to eat us by now," Aaron said, giving her a big grin.

"Okay, SO not funny Aaron," Emily told him. "If we run out of food, dead or not I think he'd probably eat us." The whole table erupted in laughter. "But seriously, I think we need to figure out a way to pry Jonathan outta that office of his and hose him down. It can't be healthy for him sitting in there like that."

"In a city full of dead and rotting corpses literally walking through the streets you're worried that a man sitting in an office knee-deep in his own filth is unhealthy. That's really something," commented Aaron with a wink. Matthew, noticing the wink, glowered at his partner thoughtfully before speaking.

"She does have a point you know," he said, coming to Emily's defense and earning a warm smile from her for his efforts. "After all, we all know what bad sanitation leads to in undeveloped countries."

"I think we've more or less joined the ranks of the undeveloped countries now," Aaron scoffed.

"We may as well get used to the smell, once the power goes down, there won't be any more showers for any of us," Thomas said, more to ease the tension forming between the other two men at the table than anything else.

"All the more reason to get him cleaned up now, before the power goes down," Emily insisted.

"She's so right. That fat guy down there is just so nasty right now," Tara declared, arriving on the roof to join them. "That's why I came up here, I just couldn't take his funky smell anymore. Barry's coming up too, he just had to use the can first," she said, pushing her way between Matthew and Emily and joining them at the table. She looked up at Matthew with adoring eyes and flashed him a big smile.

"See, I told you guys he was making us all miserable," Emily told the others, looking up from her cards and flashing them all a triumphant smile.

"I thought we came up here to play some cards," Thomas said, pointedly gesturing with his own hand.

"I think maybe I'm starting to get a little bit euchred out," Emily said with a sigh, laying her cards down on the table.

"Me too," the older man said with a chuckle, laying his cards down too and standing up.

"So why don't we liven things up a little bit," Barry asked, finally joining the others and hearing their words about euchre. "Who's up for a game of strip poker?"

"I'm in!" shrieked Tara excitedly.

"Emily won't play. I don't think she's got the guts for some serious betting when the stakes are high," Aaron goaded. As far as he was concerned, Barry had just come u with the most brilliant idea of his life. Emily caught his eye, cocking an eyebrow at him.

"Deal the cards pretty boy. Put your clothes where your mouth is."

"Kinky," he drawled in reply.

Seeing the look of hostility that came across Matthew's face at the exchange Thomas rose to his feet. "You kids can count me out. I think that I'm gonna go check on Jonathan, maybe give that old CB radio another try." After he left, Barry grabbed his seat and settled in for what he anticipated was going to be a very long, very interesting night.

Down below, Thomas stood in front of the door to Jonathan's private office, his nose curling up at the foul odor emanating from within. Knocking on the door first, he called out, "Jonathan? Jonathan are you in there?" He waited in silence for a few moments, hearing no sound of movement from inside the office. Carefully he reached down to open the door, grasping his pistol in his free hand, the joking words of the others talking about the fat man being dead running through his mind. "Jonathan?" he called out one last time before pushing the door open wide. In the dim light, he could make out a figure crouched behind the desk. Sweeping his hand along the wall beside the door, he grasped for a light switch, finally feeling one, he flicked it on, momentarily blinding himself as the room was suddenly bathed in light.

"What are you doing in here," the fat man demanded. He was still crouched slightly behind his desk, the top of which was covered with food he raided from the breakroom when the others weren't around. He wrapped his arms protectively around the food, seeing where Thomas' eyes had turned. "I know what you're thinking, but I'm not stealing anything, I'm just taking what's rightfully mine," he said, licking his lips nervously. "You people, always making fun of me, what I eat and how I eat it. Always trying to take it away from me. But it's my glands, they need them, it's not me," he babbled, a wild look entering into his eyes.

"It's okay man," Thomas said softly, backing slowly out the door. "We just wanted to make sure you had everything you needed right now. Hadn't seen much of you the last few days, we were worried, that's all."

"You're all just hoping I die. It's the food you care about, not me!"

"That ain't true man, we're worried about you, that's all. But I can see you're okay, so I'll leave you alone now," Thomas told him, swiftly pulling the door closed once more. "Damn, that man is few cans short of a six pack," he muttered, walking back down the hall towards the security office. He was careful to keep a steady watch over his shoulder, for fear of the fat man following him. They were going to have to be extra careful around him until they could find a way out.

Back up on the roof, poker night was in full swing.

"Okay, I see your shoe, and I'll raise you a T-shirt," Emily said with a grin at Matthew.

"I fold," grumbled Barry.

"You're such a wuss man, you fold every time!" complained Aaron.

"It's called playing defensively!"

"Barry, honey, you know I love you," Emily said smiling. "But you know he's right."

"Bitch! Some best friend you are, you're supposed to be defending me, not helping to throw me to the wolves!"

"Don't worry Barry, I've got your back now," Tara said.

"Look, are we gonna talk or are we gonna play some cards?" demanded Emily, subconsciously irritated by the younger girl's behavior.

"Let's play some cards," Matthew said.

The game progressed throughout the night, the smack talk getting worse as the night wore on. Sometime around 2 in the morning, the players all in various states of undress, they decided to put an end to the game. Emily was the big winner of the night, losing her shoes and T-shirt and taking nearly everything else from the rest of the players. Tara was happy to lose, occasionally standing up to stretch or find some reason to strut across the roof in little more than her bra, panties and a smile. Much to her chagrin, it didn't work to gain Matthew's attention, which, like Aaron's, was focused almost entirely on Emily's newly revealed double D's. Grabbing up their clothes, Aaron and Matthew followed Emily below, each vying for her attention, while Tara and Barry remained on the roof.

"It's not fair!" the teen shrieked once the others had gone.

"What's not fair?"

"There are only two girls here in the group and only two eligible guys and they're both in there drooling over little miss big boobs."

"I don't think that their interest is entirely about her boobs," he defended.

"Bullshit. I'm young. I'm hot, I'm way more hot than she is, so aside from the big tits I don't see what the big attraction is," she pouted.

Barry rolled his eyes. "Maybe it has a little bit to do with the whole jailbait factor? You're sixteen, Em's an adult, sorry, but you do the math."

"Who's side are you on Barry? I thought you were supposed to be my friend."

"I am your friend, but I'm Emily's friend too. Besides, it's not like those two are the only eligible men left on the planet, I'm sure we'll find some younger, David Boreanaz kinda hottie for you once we get out of here."

"If we get out of here."

"You know what we need?"

"What?"

"Some alcohol. And I remember seeing some downstairs in the restaurant. You up to making a beer run?"

"But it's so dark down there, and those things are right outside," she said hesitantly.

"Come on Tara. If you're really a big girl then you'll come with me. Emily would do it if I asked her to," he said, crossing his fingers behind his back.

"Fine, let's go."

The raid on the restaurant went without a hitch. The noise of the moans was so much louder down there compared to what they'd heard on the roof before almost made them both wet themselves in fear, but otherwise it was easy. After grabbing up their loot, they returned to the roof to drink.

"Who the hell picked the music, god, it's driving me nuts!" Tara slurred out, pulling out the cd and rummaging through the others that had been brought up there.

"Girl are you kidding? That was Tim McGraw!"

"So."

"So? Have you ever seen the way that man fills out a pair of tight jeans? It's a shame he's straight, that's all I can say."

"Aha. Now this is what we need," she said, popping a cd into the player and cranking up the volume. In a matter of moments the two were singing along, very off-key.

"Take me down to the paradise city where the grass is green and the girls are pretty, oh won't you please take me home..." they sang with drunken glee. Four bottles of wine and a few hours later, they staggered their way down from the roof once more.

"I'm not ready to go to sleep yet, I wanna make another beer run," Tara whined.

"You know, it's kinda ironic that we're calling it a beer run, when its actually wine we're talking about. But I guess a wine run just doesn't have the same ring to it," Barry answered.

"Beer run, wine run. Whatever. Let's just go get some more."

"Nah, I think we should just call it a night," Barry said sleepily, yawning loudly.

"Fine, you go to bed, I'll see you in the morning."

Shaking his head at her, they parted company at the door to cube land. He didn't really believe that she would go down to the restaurant alone, so he just crawled into his makeshift bed and passed out. Out in the hallway, Tara stood in front of the elevators mumbling to herself.

"Those stairs are just so far down. I should just take the elevator," she mumbled pressing the call button repeatedly, getting more and more upset that the door didn't open. In her drunken state, she completely forgot about how they'd disabled the elevators that first day. "Fuckin' door must be jammed." She staggered down the hall to a custodial closet, opening up the door and flicking on the light. "There's gotta be somethin' here I can open that door with. At last she found a pry bar buried on the bottom of the shelf. Taking it with her, she returned to the elevator doors. With a little bit of effort, she cracked the doors open just enough to fit her hands through and started pushing at the doors with all her strength. "Fucking idiots, if they'd just brought the wine up here to begin with," she gritted out as the door finally opened. "Bought goddamn time," she said, stepping forward into the blackness of the shaft.

In the darkness of the night, filled with the moans of the undead, does anybody hear you scream?