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No one would know it by looking at her, but Pam is a huge fan of horror movies. There are very few things she likes better than curling up with a good vampire or monster flick and a bowl of popcorn, especially since Roy left.
Lately, she's been into zombie movies. Night of the Living Dead, Land of the Dead, Evil Dead; she's seen them all. Pam knows the warning signs, the best ways to defend herself, and she's more than willing to believe that a zombie outbreak is a real threat. So when she starts to see strange news reports on her computer, her mind immediately jumps to the worst conclusion. She and Jim are the only ones left in the office, and she's suddenly very glad that they're not on the ground floor.
"Jim? Jim, you're still here right?"
Jim pokes his head out from under Dwight's desk, where he's been meticulously rewiring Dwight's computer for a prank that he refuses to tell her about.
"Uh, yeah. But why are you still here? It's 6:15."
Pam nods, distracted by a headline on Yahoo news reading, "Strange Outbreak Sweeps Northern Pennsylvania." The article goes on to describe cases of reanimation, police calls that ended in fired gunshots and missing reports, and isolated incidents of neighbors attacking each other.
"Pam?"
"Oh...uh. I don't know. But...I don't want to leave yet."
He gives her a questioning look and she just shakes her head.
"Oh...um...okay."
Pam goes back to her research. There's two more confirmed attacks, as well as reports of a man listlessly wandering around the streets of downtown Scranton. Pam begins to worry.
"Hey Jim?"
"Mmhmm?"
"Does the TV in the break room still work?"
Jim appears over the desk, his eyebrows knit together in confusion.
"Yeah, I'm pretty sure. But it's only basic cable, and the receptions been fuzzy since Michael tried to use it as a lightning rod."
"But it still works, right?"
"It should."
Pam hurries to the break room, quickly running to the local newscast. The anchorwoman looks worried, then panicked, and then the station goes off the air.
"Hey, Pam, I'm leaving. Do you want me to walk you out to your car?"
"What? Jim! No! You can't leave!"
Pam rushes out and plants herself in front of the door, spreading her arms out so Jim can't get past. Jim stares down at her, his face both concerned and amused.
"Okay, Beesley. What's going on?"
"You're going to think I'm absolutely insane."
"And yet, I still want to know."
She sighs, leaning back against the door.
"I'm pretty sure there's a zombie outbreak sweeping northeastern Pennsylvania, and I really don't want you to become an evil flesh eating reanimated corpse."
She says it all in one breath, and he stares at her for a minute, then starts to try and push past her.
"Right. Don't take this the wrong way Pam, but I think that maybe that last viewing of Dawn of the Dead might have gone to your head."
"What? Wait..how did you know I..."
"You left IMDB running on your computer."
"...oh, right."
"Right. Pam, I really gotta go."
"No! Jim, I'm really worried and I don't want you to get hurt!"
Jim rolls his eyes and pushes past her. They both stop dead in their tracks, however, when a pounding comes on the door.
"Jim, don't, please, what if it's..."
Jim doesn't listen to her and pulls the door open.
"Pam, calm down. It's probably just a janitor or someone coming to HOLY FUCKING SHIT WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?"
Pam peeks around Jims shoulder and immediately begins to scream her head off. Darryl is standing before them, his mouth hanging open, a gash in his forehead, dark circles under his eyes, and with a left arm that appears to have been gnawed off.
"SHUT THE DOOR! JIM, SHUT THE DOOR! SHUT IT!"
Jim slams the door closed, locking it, grabbing the nearest chair and shoving it under the knob. He takes her hand, dragging her past reception, past his desk, and into Michael’s office. He doesn't let go even as they're sitting against the door, blinds shut all around them.
"Pam, I want you to tell me everything you know about zombies."
XXXXXXXXXX
"Okay, okay, the one scene from a movie you always wanted to recreate."
Four hours later, and they've run through every game they know, eaten almost everything in the fridge, and have stock piled all the make shift weapons that could be found around the office, including a can opener from the kitchen and a sharp nail file from a drawer in Kelly's desk.
Jim stares intently at Pam, squinting to see her in the dark. They haven't had a zombie scare in over two hours, when they heard listless banging in one of the stair wells. Pam insisted that they turn off all the lights and shut every blind in an effort to make the building (or at least their part of it) look abandoned. As a result, they're sitting next to each other, hands still clasped firmly together, in front of a scented candle they found in the bathroom. Jim is asking Pam every question he ever wanted to ask her, every stupid little inquiry and fact that he ever wanted to know.
"A movie scene I wanted to recreate. Oh my god, I so can't tell you."
"What? Yes you can! Come on, I told you that I wanted to recreate the opening number from Fame!"
"Yeah, but, it's so stupid and you're totally going to hate me. I can't."
"Pam..."
He gives her puppy dog eyes, and she feels her resolve melt.
"Fine...but if you laugh at me, I swear I'll..."
"No laughing, I promise."
"Okay...okay, you know in Armageddon...I can't Jim, you'll just hate me."
"I could never. Go on. Armageddon. Excellent film. Moved Dwight to tears, if I remember correctly."
"Right. Well, that scene where Ben Affleck is saying goodbye to Liv Tyler at their picnic and he.."
"Oh, Pam, no. Not that animal crackers scene."
Pam buries her head in her hands.
"I know, I know. I should be shot. But it's just so...and I can't.."
Before she can finish her sentence, she feels Jim’s fingers, whisper light, tracing a trail underneath her shirt and up her stomach, almost like they were marching.
"No animal crackers, but..."
He leans over and kisses her, catching her lips with his. Pam responds quickly, deepening the kiss and surprising herself when she moves so that she's in his lap, straddling him. Jim breaks apart from her, staying so close that their noses are touching and they're sharing the same breath.
"Pam, I hate to sound corny, but this could be our.."
"Halpert, I swear to god, if you say that this could be our last night alive and we should make it worth it, you're not getting any further."
"Okay. Point taken."
He kisses her neck, attaching himself to a sensitive spot as he hears her emit a low moan. He begins to fumble with the buttons on her shirt, busying himself with her shoulders and neck and distracted by the way her hands have crept below the waist of his pants and elastic of his boxers.
"Pam?"
"Hmmm?"
"I love you, you know."
"I know."
A pause.
"I love you too."
XXXXXXXXXXX
The next morning, Pam is snuggled comfortably in Jim’s arms when she hears the door open. She sits up so fast her neck cricks.
"Jim! Jim! Wake up! JIM!"
Jim groggily sits up, rubbing his eyes.
"What? What is it?"
"The door just opened, oh shit, Jim, this is it. We're gonna be zombies. And I thought we were in the clear after last night..."
Jim stands up; grabbing the baseball bat they had located under Creeds desk the night before. He starts to sneak out the door, clad only in his boxers. Pam looks down. She's only wearing Jim's dress shirt, which covers her to mid thigh. She figures a zombie probably doesn't really care. Shielding Pam behind him, Jim walks towards reception. Peeking around the corner, Pam is sure she's going to see the living corpse that will force her to meet her untimely demise. Instead, she sees
"Dwight?"
Pam steps out from behind Jim, still holding on to his hand tightly.
"Jim? Pam? What are you two doing here? Question: did you spend the night here? Did Michael ask you to?"
Pam looks up at Jim, who is clearly as confused as she is.
"Dwight, you are aware of the fact that there was a full scale zombie invasion last night, correct?"
Dwight looks at Jim like he's the world’s biggest idiot.
"Of course I'm aware of that, Jim. They tried to come onto the farm last night, but they didn't make it very far, not once I had my bow staff handy."
Jim squeezes Palms hand, and she can see laughter creeping into his eyes.
"You're telling me that you spend the night single-handedly fighting off a herd of zombies with a bow staff, and you didn't even decide to take the day off?"
Pushing past them, Dwight sits down at his desk, already picking up this phone.
"Nothing would make me take the day off, not ever. I hold the Dunder-Mifflin record for least days missed. Why would I ever want to risk that title? Now, if you two would just excuse me, I have to call Michael and ensure his safety. And Jim, put a shirt on, you're disgusting. Totally inappropriate for work."
(fin.)
Author's Chapter Notes:
my attempt to respond to the zombie challange. sorry for making darryl a zombie...it had to be someone!
ella eternity is the author of 2 other stories.
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