Harley's breath was ragged as he leaned against the building, his heart pounding in his chest. The brief respite he'd allowed himself was quickly replaced with anxiety as he realized just how much things had changed. The office building he'd worked in for years, a place of mundane routines and daily tasks, now felt like an alien world. The steady hum of work, the constant buzz of phones, the clink of keyboards—all that was gone. Now, it was an eerie shell of what it used to be, its once-bustling halls now filled with dread and chaos.
As his gaze drifted back to the office building, he found himself frozen for a moment. The stark contrast between the ordinary world he had known just a few short hours ago and the nightmare that had unfolded in that time was almost too much to comprehend. The building, which had once been a symbol of security and normalcy, now felt like a distant memory.
Harley took a deep breath, pushing the thoughts away. There was no time for sentimentality. The present, grim reality was all that mattered now. He had to find his way through this mess, and if the office could offer a sliver of safety, he'd take it.
The once familiar steel-and-glass structure now loomed ominously before him. A reminder of a life that was slipping further and further out of reach. The world outside had turned into chaos, and yet, there it stood—solid and unmoving. It was hard to believe that just hours ago, this place was filled with the hum of productivity, the clattering of keyboards, the hum of office politics. Now, there was only silence—broken only by the occasional distant groan of the undead and the frantic shuffling of survivors.
He approached the building cautiously, the eerie quiet amplifying every sound as his footsteps echoed across the cracked sidewalk. His mind raced, and his grip on the crowbar tightened as he neared the front entrance.
Harley paused just before the glass doors, studying the scene in front of him. Inside, a handful of office workers were barricading themselves against the oncoming horde. Desperation mixed with resolve painted their faces as they pushed furniture against the glass doors, trying to fortify their temporary refuge. The tension in the air was palpable, and Harley could almost taste the fear hanging heavy in the atmosphere. It was clear that no one had been prepared for this—least of all them.
A group of about five workers stood in the front line, wielding emergency axes that had been hastily grabbed from the building's safety supplies. Their movements were slow, methodical, as they kept their focus on the door, eyes darting to any approaching danger. Their faces were grim, hardened by the events of the last few hours, but it was clear that their fight was only beginning. There was no telling how long they could hold out.
Harley lingered for a moment, his eyes scanning the situation, trying to assess if there was any possible way to help. These people had clearly been caught in the same web of chaos, trying to make the best of an impossible situation. Some of them had become makeshift warriors, determined to fight until their last breath.
It was then that Harley heard it—the unmistakable shuffle of more zombies approaching from behind. His heart skipped a beat. In the madness of the moment, he'd forgotten to check his six. The realization hit him like a punch to the gut. He spun around, his eyes widening as he saw the wave of undead closing in from all sides.
The ground beneath him felt like it was shifting, as if the very earth had decided to turn against him. The horde, once just a distant threat, was now far too close for comfort. Harley's mind raced for an escape plan, but it was too late. The zombies had already closed in, their shuffling, ragged footsteps growing louder and louder. The sickening groans and moans filled the air, making his skin crawl.
He had been too focused on the barricaded office, too caught up in the idea of finding safety, and now he was surrounded. The sudden shift from hope to terror was enough to make his pulse spike. The building was no longer a sanctuary; it was a death trap, and so was the street he stood on.
Harley's eyes darted across the street, looking for any escape route, but the undead were closing in fast. There was nowhere to run without risking being cornered.
"Shit," he muttered under his breath, taking a step back. There was no choice now but to fight his way through.
The first zombie lunged at him, its foul breath thick in the air as it reached for him with outstretched, decaying hands. Harley's crowbar swung instinctively, catching the creature in the side of the head. It crumpled to the ground with a sickening thud, but the others were already upon him.
The office workers inside continued their desperate struggle, their axes slicing through the air in attempts to stave off the horde outside. Harley caught glimpses of them through the glass—one man swung his axe at a zombie's head, but it missed, the blade grazing the creature's shoulder as it continued to advance. His swing was wild, desperate, and it left him open to an attack from behind. The zombie didn't hesitate. It lunged.
"Shit! You need to get out!" Harley shouted at the workers, though he wasn't sure if they could hear him. The glass was thick, and the noise of the struggle made it hard to hear anything clearly.
He needed to get them to move. They couldn't afford to stay put. It was only a matter of time before the door broke down.
Harley's pulse quickened as he realized the magnitude of the situation. They were all trapped. He needed to think fast if they were to survive.
A scream pierced the air. It came from inside the building—one of the workers had been caught by a zombie, his screams muffled by the glass. Harley felt his stomach lurch as he watched the man struggle, the office workers desperately trying to pull him back to safety.
Without another second to waste, Harley grabbed the crowbar with both hands and swung it with all his might, taking down another zombie. He could feel the weight of the weapon, the force of his swing sending the creature crashing into the pavement. His breath was coming in ragged gasps, and the reality of the situation hit him harder than ever.
The city around him had become a warzone, and everyone—survivors and zombies alike—were fighting for their lives. The line between the living and the dead had blurred, and Harley didn't know how much longer he could keep pushing forward.
As the undead continued to close in, Harley's mind raced. There was no plan anymore, just survival. The office building was no longer a place of safety; it was a pit of danger.
His eyes darted around, searching for a way out. But the walls were closing in, and all he could do was hope that something, anything, would give him the edge he needed to survive.