The Boss Is Dead

Chp:3 Ben's Plan

What a day it had been. A perfectly normal Monday morning had gone straight to hell just in a few minutes.  Or maybe they weren't paying attention to their surroundings. A million thoughts raced through Sarah's mind, but only one question seemed important:

"Um, so....anyone knows how to handle actual zombies or... is this all new territory for you guys too?"

Diana rolled her eyes at the joke.

Greg emerged cautiously from where he had been peering through the microwave door's small window. He pushed his thick black-rimmed glasses further up the bridge of his nose, leaving smudged fingerprints behind.

"W-well... from what I've seen in movies... zombies are attracted to noise and movement. So we should try to be as quiet as possible."

Ben nodded thoughtfully at Greg's analysis, absentmindedly scratching at a ketchup stain on his red polo shirt. "Good call... Ben. I think I saw 28 Days Later- fast zombies are worse than slow ones. If those monsters out there start sprinting... we're in real trouble."

Diana shuddered delicately, wrinkling her nose at the men's sweaty, bad states. She smoothed her pleated pencil skirt and pushed a glossy raven lock behind one perfectly pearled ear. "Great... so how do we get out of here without attracting their attention... and avoid becoming those...things' lunch??"

Her tone was laced with disgust and fear in equal measure.

"Oh yeah. We might have to make a run for it." The others turned to Sarah expectantly. She shrugged her shoulders, "It would be safer if we split up, though. Diana and I can go left, Ben and Greg will go right the hallway. And then we will find somewhere to hide. And stay out of sight until the coast is clear. Don't come out unless someone needs help. Got it?"

"Nooo...what the fuck" Greg said in a monotone voice. Sarah gave him an unamused look, which soon turned into a frown when he continued with no hesitation, "why are we even doing this again? This whole thing is fucking ridiculous.-"

Sarah grabbed Greg by his jacket collar and jerked him down to her level, "Look, dude, this could possibly get us killed! Do you want me to tell your mom that you died because of some stupid zombie virus or something?!"

"You wouldn't do that!" Greg snapped, his normally mild exterior replaced by pure anger. Sarah's hands flew back off him like he had started smoking acid, "You're not my mother, okay? Why don't you just leave me alone, Sarah? You're acting like a child."

Diana put her arm around Sarah to placate her. She was always quick to pick up on these things, and she knew that Sarah and Greg were both feeling really, really anxious.

The group fell silent, racking their brains for any useful information. Now here they were, crammed behind the break room microwave plotting their escape. Not that the view was much to look at - just Ben's unfortunate stained shirt and Greg's oily forehead glistening under the fluorescent lights. Sarah thought to herself- at least it obscured the shambling Sheila lurking outside. Or was it Shambling Stacey? Ugh. After some minutes they all start to look the same.

Sarah began pacing anxiously, a habit she'd had since childhood. Her Converse sneakers squeaked annoyingly on the tile floor.  An idea was starting to form and she snapped her fingers, nearly taking someone's eye out.

"Wait, I've got it! Greg...don't you have that drone you use to check the roof for leaks?"

Greg's face lit up as he caught on. "You're right...but... it's in my office!" He turned to Ben eagerly. "Think you can pilot it to scope out the area?"

Ben straightened proudly at being given an important role. "Absolutely... drones are my specialty. Lead the way!"

With that, the group exited the break room cautiously through the second door that used to remain locked all of the time. They squeezed through the doorway single-file like prisoners headed to the gallows. Diana clamped a hand over her mouth and nose, unable to stand the stench of stale sweat and developing necrosis any longer. She held her breath as they passed by the foggy window, catching glimpses of moving shadows and a gnashing mouth within.

Luckily, Greg's tiny office was right across the hall. They squeezed inside, dodging stray soda cans, shredded reports, and obsolete computer parts littering the floor until all four were crammed among the chaos. Whatever happened here had already left the office. Ben got to work powering up the drone while the others watched nervously.

While Ben fiddled with his robot toy, Diana noticed a collection of candid photos on Greg's desk. "Aww... is this your family having a picnic? How sweet."

Greg sighed wistfully, running a hand through his greasy hair, "That was before the divorce. Now it's just me and a pigeon that hangs around the building."

"Alright, I've got visual. Sending it out now." Ben interrupted, focused intently on the computer screen. The small quadcopter lifted smoothly from his palm, its electric motors barely audible over the ominous rustling and moans drifting in from outside. They huddled around Greg's laptop to view the live feed from its camera.

A collective gasp rose up at the scene below.

"Looks like the whole floor is compromised," Sarah said faintly, eyes wide. Bodies lurched randomly through the aisles like wounded animals, bumping into anything in their path. She recognized Jill shambling past, teeth bared in a feral snarl, face smeared red with gore. OH GOD.

Ben guided the drone up to the ceiling for a bird's eye view. "The emergency exits are blocked - more of them are piled up against the doors. And it looks like... the stairwells are also clogged."

Diana let out a hopeless sigh, nails digging crescents into her palms. "Fuck. So we really are trapped in here then. What do we do now?"

As if in response to the secretary's hopeless question, a crunching sound echoed from the break room door at other side of the hall. Spinning around to the window, they saw the hinges starting to slowly give way under the relentless pounding from the out side. The infected were pressing ever closer, drawn by some primal hunger.

Ben spoke up grimly, meeting each of their wide-eyed gazes in turn. "We can either hole up here and wait to be overrun...or ...take our chances out there." He jerked a thumb at the drone feed showing the horde below. "I vote we go down fighting if we have to go at all."

The others nodded reluctantly, steeling whatever resolve they had left for what lay ahead. But Ben paused the drone mid-flight, lost in thought. Then a spark of hope flared in his eyes. "I have an idea that may buy us some time. And a chance to get to the atrium. And...we can find out if they are attracted to noises or sight."

Quickly, Ben explained his plan to the group and set it into motion with Greg's help. Using the laptop, Ben programmed the drone to emit an ultrasonic noise detectable only to bats and canines. Then he released it back outside the office, guiding it in wide hovering circles around the space below to draw their pursuers away.

Sure enough, the shuffling bodies below slowly started turning in response to the noise. Like metal filings to a magnet, they began lurching after the source of the distraction. Creating a path through the center of the horde.

"Now's our chance!" Sarah cried, bursting from the office. The others chased after, darting as swiftly and quietly as they could manage down the cleared aisle. Behind them, the barricade of the break room splintered completely with an echoing crack.

Up ahead, sunlight streamed through the tall glass windows of the atrium. Sweet salvation, if only they could make it in time. Greg risked a backward glance - the drone's diversion was working for now but the horde was starting to disperse once more. Their pursuit would resume any second.

With a final burst of speed, the four survivors hurled themselves at the atrium doors. Crashing through with a collective whoop of relief and adrenaline. They had cheated death, if only for now. Their short-lived victory was interrupted by a surprised shout.

"Hey! More people?" called a voice from across the open space.

~