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Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Days were days. Minutes were files and words were expense reports. Waking up was a task almost impossible now, and Jim was surprised when it only took the alarm going off once to get him up. Gray light filtered through plastic blinds and he became his morning routine. He didn’t eat breakfast but made his ham and cheese. Took a shower. Brushed his teeth. Avoided the mirror at all costs. Recently, his apathy had reached a new high.

He opened the door to his car and sat in the drivers’ seat for a few minutes. Finally, a heavy sigh issued the rev of the engine, and he began to drive to work.

-

Pam waited at reception. She wasn’t really working. She never really did anything. Except answer phones. And highlight. So she waited. Mostly for Jim, but she’d never admit that to anyone anyway.

She knew she hadn’t arrived early…but the absence of most of her coworkers, even Dwight, was making her curious. As she reached for the phone, it began to ring, startling her.

“Dunder-Mifflin, this is –"

“Pam. Listen. Something is going on out here.”

“Jim?”

“Pam. Stay inside. Just. Stay, okay? Don’t move. Close the blinds, lock the doors. Keep everyone inside. I’ll knock when I get there. Three times.”

“Jim, wait –"

She heard screaming and a crash. Static. She looked up, at Angela and Michael and Ryan, who were each slowly moving among the office, still waking up, still getting their coffee, walking slowly and reanimating. She slowly got up and began to close the blinds.

“What are you doing?”

Pam heard Angela complain from the far corner.

“Oh nothing. It’s just really bright outside and … I had an eye appointment earlier and got them dilated…so, you know, it would just really help.”

“Wear sunglasses then.”

“Thanks, Angela.”

-

Jim’s car had crashed. He could only remember talking to Pam. Then running into something. And now he was on the side of the road, 2 miles away from work.

He opened his eyes, stuck momentarily in the few seconds of innocence, of innocence, of innocence. Blood on the windows. Blood. His eyes widened and he looked around.

It was destroyed. Everything around him. Apparently an oil tanker had almost hit him. He didn’t notice that though. Someone opened his passenger door.

Jim screamed.

Something covered his mouth.

“Jim. Quiet. Listen, I know what’s going on. And I have everything we need…waterproof matches, iodine tablets, beet seeds, protein bars. Just drive. I think we can make it to work.”

He started the car and drove. When he finally looked over, he saw Dwight and, for the first time in three days, smiled.

Dwight looked back. He didn’t smile. But the gleam in his eyes revealed that this was what he has been waiting for his entire life.

They pulled into the parking lot in a smoking car, barely, and climbed the stairs into their office.

-

They still didn’t know. No one knew what was going on. Pam didn’t want to arouse suspicion. She didn’t want to scare people. She wore a white button-up sweater and didn’t want to scare anyone. It was simple.

The knob on the door jiggled.

“Knock three times.” Pam muttered to herself while she waited. She just wanted to keep this peaceful picture in her mind. Angela cross-eyed by gazing at her cats calendar and her babies playing music poster simultaneously. Michael talking to the cameras. Ryan…not caring.

There wasn’t a knock. But the disfigured shadow glistened in the double panes beside the door. And that was when she remembered.

She hadn’t locked the door.

The door burst open, an explosion. Stanley stood there.

“Stanley...?”

There was no reply, only a glare. An empty stare at Pam. He wore the same suit he did before, only speckled with blood.

Something was wrong. Pam slowly rose and began walking to the break room.

Stanley rounded the corner, now in everyone’s view.

Michael opened his door.

“Announcement. Everyone. Announcement. Our branch will –"

It was then that Stanley reached for him, clasping his hands around his throat. He pulled Michael closer, opening his jaw, wider than a normal person is capable of.

Angela went back to working. A joke. Why did everything have to be a joke here? Ryan began to empty his desk. This was enough for him. He was leaving.

A door opened as Pam came from the break room and began throwing ice cubes from the freezer at Stanley.

A knock came at the door. Three times.

“Just open it! It’s unlocked!”

The sound of a door opening came swiftly, along with Dwight’s voice.

“Announcement!”

He rounded the corner to see Stanley, or rather, Stanley’s back. His rotting, decaying spine. And immediately, he pulled out a squirt gun.

Jim smirked. Great.

Dwight made an efficient shot to Stanley’s head and instantaneously, it began to melt.

“Eat my dust.” Dwight said.

“What?” Jim was pleasantly surprised.

“I’ve always wanted to say that. After I killed someone. Preferably a zombie.”

Michael stared at Stanley’s body, collapsed on the floor.

“...You two. This was good. This was really good. You’re going to have to let me in on this –"

“It wasn’t a joke, Michael. This is serious. I’m sure Dwight knows what’s going on.” Jim stared down at Stanley’s body, moving his feet to avoid the running liquid.

“…Dwight?” Michael said.

“Zombies have taken over Scranton.”

“If you’re trying to give a motivational speech, this isn’t the best way. Believe me, Dwight. I know.”

“Michael. Look down. See Stanley? He’s dead. Well, actually, he died twice. You know, reanimation.” At that moment, Dwight pulled out a book from his pocket, a handwritten pocket dictionary, with the cover simply saying “ZOMBIES” in all capitals.

“I’ve been studying them for awhile, all the conspiracy theories and hidden incidents internationally.”

“What was in that gun?” Jim asked. He wanted to smile. He secretly wanted to laugh, and when he looked over at Pam, he could see she did too. Angela was still working, and Kevin had gone to the bathroom.

“It’s a secret mixture. I call it my Sauce of Extermination. It melts already decomposing flesh. If you’re not undead, it doesn’t affect you, unless of course, you drink the mixture. Not good.”

Michael laughed. “You realize that you could abbreviate your Sauce of Extermination to S.E.X. Get it? Like the S stands for Sauce and the EX stands - ”

Dwight began to snicker. “Good one, Michael.”

Jim walked over to Pam looked at the tray she held in her hand.

“Ice cubes. Clever, Beesly.”

“At least I’m not dead.”

“I’m really glad.”

It had been the first time they said more than three words to each other since the casino night fundraiser. And the first time that she smiled at him. The look lingered. Pam broke it.

“Tell us what you know about zombies, Dwight.” She said.

Jim looked at his feet.

“Well, Pam. I'm glad you asked. To kill them, you have to decapacitate them. Or have one of my guns. Luckily, I brought all of my super soakers. I have a wide range…and looking among the room, I have extra.”

“I want two.” Michael said.

“I’ll give you all the guns and two bottles of my secret sauce -"

“Sex. Sex sauce.” Michael interrupted. “You’re supposed to call it sex.”

“Okay, two bottles of my S.E.X. and –“

Michael laughed again. Dwight turned to look as Angela got up from her desk and began to listen. Intently.

“- make sure you don’t get infected. The best plan right now is to find some sort of radio or communication device, get an update on what’s going on, then look for some sort of safe place. Or plane. I learned how to fly one when I was four, so no problem. Lock the doors. Shut off the lights. Close the blinds. Let’s do this.”

Angela loved a man who took action.

-

Each station on the radio played the same identical 5 minute loop over and over. Jim had memorized it. So had Pam. They were to remain inside. Scranton was the only place where the outbreak had taken place, so the borders had been secured. They were to remain inside. Arm yourselves. Stay inside. Turn off the lights, lock the doors. Remain inside.

Jim got the feeling that they kind of wanted everyone to die.

Pam waited in the women’s restroom, staring at her reflection. She had made it a point to look better that day. After the casino night…she didn’t know. Things had changed. Her hair was loose and down in flowing, gleaming curls. She wiped her eyes and turned. Jim was there.

“Women's bathroom...?"

Awkward silence.

She was so beautiful.

“I’m sorry, Pam.”

He was so amazing.

Awkward silence, round two.

Then he turned and pushed open the door slowly.

“Wait.”

It was soft and almost inaudible, but he knew it would come.

“Don’t leave.”

And that was enough. Enough for him. Enough for –

-

“Okay everyone. Annoucement. We need to get out of here.”

“But the radio said to stay…”

“Michael, haven’t you ever seen a zombie movie?”

“Of course I’ve seen a zombie movie. 9 Weeks Later is my favorite.”

“And what happens to the people who stay in one place?”

“…That never happens.”

“RIGHT. My point. We need to get out of Scranton.”

Dwight hated dealing with incompetent people, even if it was occasionally Michael. He had spent his whole life preparing for either a plane crash or deadly outbreak. It was his time to be awesome.

“Head count. Okay, Michael’s one. I’m two. Where’s Ryan?”

Angela lifted her head. “I think he left after Stanley…after Stanley arrived. His desk is empty.”

“What about Jim and Pam?”

And at that moment, Jim and Pam reemerged from the hallway of the break room.

“…Okay. Let’s get to the roof.”

-

Jim and Pam had been here before in a better time and a better place.

Dwight and Angela had as well, in secret, in private.

Michael and Kevin - not so much.

But old memories were quickly replaced. And Jim was unnaturally excited.

“Let’s do this.” Jim said. It shocked even himself. “We need a helicopter. Dwight, do you still have your hot wheels?”

“No, I didn’t bring them – are you mocking me, Jim?”

“No. Not at all.”

They surveyed the landscape. Explosions. Blood. They looked over the edge of the building to the warehouse.

Roy.

“ROY!” Pam yelled. He looked up and smiled.

“ROY! Come up to the roof!”

“Are you crazy?” He yelled back. He laughed and walked into the warehouse.

Pam shook her head and looked at her feet.

Jim did the same. “Should we save him?”

Pam looked up and into his eyes. She shook her head.

“When people are reanimated, they do the same things. They do their normal routine. They do what they’re used to.”

Dwight’s last syllable resounded and could be heard in everyone’s head a few moments later.

This was life now.

The sun set, and they had to find a plane.

-

They slept in the office that night, it would’ve been too unsafe to look for some sort of air transport that late and in that kind of darkness. Angela slept near her desk, Dwight on the couch next to the door (with a gun safely clutched in his hands), Michael locked in his office, Jim near his desk, and Pam in the conference room.

It was late. Jim looked at his watch. 2 AM. Nothing had happened since the Stanley incident, and he was seriously beginning to worry about the lack of action.

He got up and walked to the conference room window and stared at Pam. She was laying there. So perfect, her closed eyes facing him. Her lips were slightly parted and he remembered they way they felt on that night. He remembered the way she smelled and the fabric of her dress and the glare coming from the window of casino lights. He closed his eyes and suddenly felt a wisp of hair lay on his shoulder.

“Pam.”

“Shh.” She whispered.

They walked to the conference room, locked the door, and closed the blinds.

-

They hadn’t done anything. She needed someone to sleep next to her, so he did it. It hurt. It hurt him. More than the kiss. More than the tension. But she needed him.

He hadn’t slept and when she turned and opened her eyes, he smiled.

“Morning.” She said.

“Wow. You really need to brush your teeth.”

She smiled, revealing her teeth, then quickly closed the smirk, laughing.

They got up and walked to the door.

“Thanks.” She said.

And he walked behind her.

Outside, Angela had fallen asleep on Dwight. Michael was already up, complaining about his ham, egg and cheese.

“If I would’ve known about these zombies, I would’ve brought my George Foreman grill.”

There was a knock at the door. Dwight shot up, instantly arming his gun. Angela, resting on him, collapsed on the floor.

Everyone stared at each other.

The knocks ensued.

“What do we do?” Angela whispered.

“Shh.” Dwight quickly quieted her. He stealthily and slowly walked to the door.

“Who is it?” He asked.

“It’s Ryan.”

“Prove it.”

Ryan pulled out his phone and put it on speaker.

“Nine new messages. First message. ‘Ryan, it’s your mom! You wet the bed again!”

Michael began laughing. “Wow, that message turned out better than I thought it would.”

“Okay, can I come in now? I brought the ham, egg and cheese.”

“Let him in Dwight!” Michael rushed to the door and opened it to let him in.

Opening the door, Ryan was there. But behind him, Roy. His face, half decomposed.

“Oh. My. God.” Michael said. He grabbed the sandwich and ran.

“Roy!” Pam yelled. “No! Don’t!”

He grabbed Ryan and twisted his head completely around. Dwight, stunned, had his gun knocked out of his hands. Skidding on the carpet. Hitting Jim’s feet.

Pam stared at Jim.

Jim, in an infinite moment, stared at her.

“It’s okay.”

He shot him.

Ryan was dead.

Roy was dead.

Michael got his sandwich.

Everything was better. For now. For now.

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