Office Breakout
1286 Words
People bitten turned. Everyone knew that. That’s how the infection spread. That was the rule.
But as Kael’s breath quickened, waiting for dizziness, fever, collapse… nothing happened.
Nothing.
The wound burned like hellfire, but his mind stayed sharp. His body steady. His heart alive.
He blinked, staring at the dead zombie at his feet.
'Why am I still here?'
And then, slowly… Kael grinned.
The office was a slaughterhouse. Fluorescent lights flickered, casting white flashes over splattered walls and overturned chairs. People screamed as bodies slammed into desks. The stink of blood mixed with burnt coffee and printer toner.
Kael straightened, flexing his bitten shoulder. The pain was sharp, but his head stayed clear. His legs held steady.
No fever. No haze.
Nothing.
Just the rush of adrenaline flooding through his veins.
Another zombie lunged. Kael sidestepped, swung his chair leg, and crushed its temple. He didn’t even flinch as hot blood sprayed across his face.
All around him, coworkers fell—chewed apart, torn open, dragged screaming under desks. The office had become a grave. And yet Kael moved with strange calm, his mouth curling into that crooked grin again.
He laughed. Loud, raw, unhinged.
It cut through the chaos, drawing terrified glances from those still alive.
"You’re insane!" someone shrieked as they scrambled past him.
"Maybe," Kael said. He kicked over a filing cabinet, blocking the path of three zombies, then smashed another’s jaw with brutal precision. "But I’m alive."
Clara’s voice cut through the din. "Kael!"
He turned.
She was pressed against the far wall, clutching a stapler like it was a sword. Her face was pale, auburn hair wild around her shoulders. Her eyes locked on him, desperate.
"Move!" Kael barked. He shoved a desk aside, clearing her path.
Clara bolted, ducking under a swinging arm of an infected coworker. Kael intercepted, chair leg swinging. The corpse dropped. He grabbed her wrist, pulling her with him toward the stairwell.
The door was jammed with bodies—alive and dead. People shoved, screamed, clawed over each other. Kael didn’t hesitate. He swung into the crowd, battering zombies aside. The wooden leg cracked, splinters flying. He kept swinging until there was space.
"Go!" he growled, yanking Clara through.
The stairwell was chaos too. A crush of bodies stumbled downward, some human, some not. The air reeked of sweat, copper, and rot. Kael shoved and pushed, dragging Clara behind him.
On the third floor, a police officer tried to hold back the infected with his service pistol. The shots thundered, echoing in the stairwell. Muzzle flashes lit up terrified faces. People screamed, collapsing as stray bullets tore through them.
Kael didn’t slow. He barreled forward, ducked under the cop’s arm, and dragged Clara through a side exit.
They burst into the street.
The city was collapsing.
Helicopters thundered overhead, one spinning out of control before crashing into a nearby tower. The explosion ripped through the air, heat searing Kael’s skin even from blocks away. Cars collided, some aflame, horns blaring in a chaotic chorus. Civilians ran wild, trampling each other, clawing at locked doors, smashing windows for weapons.
And everywhere—zombies.
Kael’s grin widened. He had never felt more alive.
"Kael, where are we going?" Clara gasped, struggling to keep up.
"Anywhere that’s not here," he said.
–––––––––––
They ducked into an alley. The narrow passage was littered with trash, broken bottles, and the metallic tang of blood. Clara stumbled, bracing herself against the wall. Kael turned, catching her before she collapsed.
"Clara—" He froze.
Her arm was bleeding. A bite. The skin around it already darkening.
"No," she whispered, eyes wide with terror. "No, no, no, no…"
Kael stared at the wound, then at her face. Panic, sweat, tears. She knew what it meant. Everyone did.
Her hands trembled. "I’m dead, Kael. I’m… I’m done."
"You don’t know that yet."
Her laugh was broken, bitter. "Of course I know. You saw what happened to the others."
Kael said nothing. His mind spun. He should leave. Logic said leave. She’d turn soon, attack him.
But… she wasn’t just anyone.
Clara looked at him, really looked, and for a second the fear in her eyes shifted to something else. Something softer.
"Kael," she whispered, voice shaking. "I… I don’t want to go out like this. Not as one of them. If I’m going to die, I want—" She bit her lip, hesitation trembling across her face. "I want you to know… I always liked you. More than just coworkers. I hated this job too, but seeing you—hearing you make those sarcastic comments—it made it easier. You were the only one here who felt real."
Kael blinked, stunned into silence.
She laughed again, shaky, almost delirious. "Crazy, right? Confessing while bleeding out. But I don’t care anymore."
He swallowed. "Clara…"
Her eyes glistened. "What do you want your last moment to be, Kael? Because I know what I want mine to be."
He knew what she meant before she said it.
The world spun around them—sirens wailing, explosions booming, the moans of the dead echoing down the alley. And here, in this pocket of ruin, Clara’s trembling gaze locked on his.
Her lips parted. "I want… you. Before I go."
Kael’s heart hammered. He should have walked away. It was insane. The infection was already crawling through her veins.
But then again… he was infected too, wasn’t he? And yet here he stood.
'If I’m going down,' Kael thought, 'I might as well go down in style.'
He dropped the broken chair leg. His hands cupped her face, warm against her clammy skin. He leaned in, their lips colliding in a desperate kiss. She gasped, clinging to his shirt, pulling him closer.
The world outside kept burning.
Their kiss deepened, frantic, filled with the hunger of two people who believed they had no time left. Kael’s fingers tangled in her hair, her breath hot against his mouth. For the first time in years, he wasn’t numb. He was alive.
She pressed against him, trembling, but her fear melted into something else—something raw, aching, human. Kael felt it too. Not love. Not yet. But a need. A wild, reckless need.
They collapsed against the wall, their closeness a rebellion against the death surrounding them. Kael kissed her neck, felt her pulse racing under his lips. Clara moaned softly, her fingers digging into his back.
Time blurred. Fear blurred. All that mattered was the heat between them, the desperate clinging.
And then…
Something changed.
Clara’s breathing steadied. The dark veins spreading from her bite began to fade. Her eyes, which had glazed with infection’s haze, cleared.
Kael pulled back, staring.
Clara blinked, dazed. "Kael… I… what’s happening?"
He looked at her arm. The wound was still there, but the sickly gray creeping through her skin had vanished.
The infection… was gone.
He stumbled back, stunned.
"No way," he whispered.
Clara touched her face, then her chest, then the wound. Tears welled in her eyes again, but this time from shock, not despair.
"I… I feel fine."
Kael’s mind spun, heart thundering. "You were bitten. I saw it spreading."
"And now it’s gone," she said, staring at him with trembling awe. "Kael… what did you do?"
He stared at her, words choking in his throat.
And then realization struck.
*****
Author’s Note:
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