Work Text:
When the apocalypse happened, the Roys were in the middle of debating an important business deal.
As usual, anything that happened in the family business seemed to be a personal offense to the three siblings; they had gotten into another screaming match in one of the glass boxes of the top floor of their company building, when all of a sudden there was a personal assistant knocking at the door. It was Kendall’s of course; she looked like she had lost a bet, meek like a mouse at having to interrupt them, but she was also the one who ended up unwantingly embroiled in even the personal affairs.
“What the fuck, Jess?” Kendall Roy, the oldest of the three asked as she opened the door, trying to blend into the wall as the sole girl, Shiv, huffed at whatever indignant remark her brother had made, hands on her hips as she stared out the window at the New York skyline.
That was when she finally noticed that the ambulance sirens she’d heard going off all day had been replaced by the beating turbines of helicopters — more than she had ever seen above her city at once.
“There’s just— it’s a situation, Kendall. I think you need to take a look at it,” Jess was saying, stepping up to Kendall and showing him something on her phone.
“Sure, ‘there’s a situation, there’s a situation’,” Roman, the middle child and youngest brother mocked, using hand quotations as he also stepped closer. “What the fuck could be more important than the literal handing over of the company?”
“Uh guys, you should look at this,” Shiv said apprehensively. Both boys looked up at once, their eyes focusing on their sister. As they looked past her to the cityscape beyond, they both dropped their business guise.
“The apocalypse,” Jess sighed, exasperated as ever. But this time she also sounded genuinely scared. “That’s what’s more important.”
***
The first course of action had been to get the higher-ups into the building’s safe room along with the bare minimum of staffers (which was around 20 people, including the personal assistants, of course) complete with padlocks, soundproofed mahogany wooden walls, and refreshments while they sat around the plush couches and obsessively checked the news on their phones.
Kendall called his ex-wife, checking in on his kids first. They were fine, she assured him. They were locked in their apartment for now, but she was wondering whether or not they should leave the city if the rumors were true. Kendall got more and more upset at the woman who he wasn’t even friends with anymore, scratching at his neck nervously and pacing as he said he would make calls, he would keep his children safe.
“Maybe it’s not even real, I mean the fucking apocalypse?” Roman was saying over and over, laying over the couch with his feet up on the back of it. He was the only one not on a phone, fidgeting with his fingers instead as he stared up at the ceiling. “I’ll tell you what the fucking apocalypse is: it’s Shiv when she’s bleeding through her pants.”
“It’s actually the apocalypse this time,” Shiv said. She was sitting on the armrest of the same couch Roman was lounging on, her arms crossed as she stared at the news — their news channel, because this was the apocalypse! Their anchors needed to be the first on every story! — and watched the videos picked from social media playing under the commentary. “Like people are eating each other in the streets. It’s real.”
Roman sat up and looked at the TV just as the shaky video showed a deranged man staggering over to a cab amidst the chaos on the streets of New York, pulling the panicked driver through the window and ripping a chunk of his neck out, blood and gore spewing as he let out a blood-curdling scream.
“Okay shit maybe it’s real,” Roman admitted. “But like we’re safe here, right?”
“Okay guys,” Kendall said, coming over and holding his hands out like was giving a major announcement. “The White House is gonna be on the line soon for an actual update. We’re gonna push it through to the newsdesk.”
“Is the building even secured?” Roman asked incredulously. “Like I know we’re in a fucking maximum security prison right here, but what if they push through the doors?”
“What the fuck, Rome, of course we’re fine,” Kendall said. He held his phone up like it was the holy grail. “I have the head of CDC on speed dial and everyone who’s important is here. We’re not some poor suckers on the street.”
Shiv’s phone buzzed loudly on the table and she looked down, seeing the full name of her husband — well, soon to be ex-husband — light up on the screen. She considered it for a minute then answered.
“Hey honey, where are you?” she asked. There was a burst of noise from the other line, and then the obnoxious voice of her brownnoser husband, Tom, spoke above it all.
“Shiv, thank God! I’m down at the news desk, keeping the engine running! Hey listen, do you think we should stop coverage soon? I’m hearing it’s even reaching the lobby and of course the zombies don’t know how to use the keycard in the elevator and we’ve got security lockdown on our floor and me and Greg are ready to bunker down if we need to, but just wondering what the opinions are up there?”
“Tell Tom to not stop coverage!” Kendall was saying loudly, eavesdropping the conversation. “When this gets settled, we’ll be held up as national heroes for keeping the public informed!”
“What do you mean it’s reached the lobby?” Shiv asked, her eyebrows furrowing in concern. Roman sat up quickly, motioning for her to put it on speaker in between the two of them.
“Yeah, there was an issue with the front desk staff, apparently all of them turned. Can you believe the odds—?” Tom was saying into the phone before he was cut off by a sudden crash.
“Hey man are you okay?” Roman asked, exchanging nervous glances with Shiv who looked frustrated that she didn’t have all the answers.
“Yeah, I’m fine!” Tom exclaimed. “It just— uhm, it looks like we just have a little situation down on the floor—” There was a feral snarl through the phone and accompanying screams. “Okay, we’re leaving now—”
“Hey guys!” A different voice called through the phone. It was the sound of their cousin, Greg, a 20 year old kid who had joined the company a year ago and stuck to Tom like super glue. “Don’t worry about me, I’m fine, but—” he cut himself off with a scared yelp before he cleared his throat. “I am a little concerned about what’s going on, but me and Tom will be fine!”
As Greg was talking into the speaker, the anchor on the TV, a well-dressed woman in the midst of her commentary, lost her composure as she saw something off camera, screaming as she stood up abruptly and the camera was thrown out of focus to point at the floor.
Roman put his head in his hands, rubbing his eyes as Shiv stood up, pulling the phone conversation away from him. At the sound of the humans newly turned monsters — she couldn’t bring herself yet to think of them as zombies; that sounded straight out of one of their shitty summer horror blockbusters — the entire group in the safe room had quieted to listen.
“Hey Tom, I’m gonna hang up okay? You need to get somewhere safe,” she said into the phone. There was so much noise on the other end that she didn’t even know if her husband could hear him anymore. Her heart froze for fateful beats before his voice crackled through again.
“We’re gonna bunker down! We’re bunkering down! I’ll call you when we get there, Shiv, I love—”
Suddenly, the call cut off, the TV turned off, and the lights in the room went dark all at the same time. As the emergency lights kicked in, casting an unsettling blue glow over the entire room, everyone looked at each other as a current of fear seemed to crash over them, stronger than any of them had felt before.
“Incident at the power plant,” Jess said quietly, looking down at her phone. “It’s gotten bad over there too.”
It was starting to settle in for all of them that this situation may not be settled as quickly as they had hoped.
Kendall was the first to break the silence, stuttering as he tried to take the charge the only way he knew how.
“Okay… Okay here’s what we’re going to do,” he started. “Everyone preserve your batteries only for important calls. We have food, we have security, we’re gonna be fine,” he looked around at the room as he spoke. His voice wavered and his brown eyes jumped from subject to subject as he gave what was probably supposed to be an encouraging smile.
“We’re just going to sit this out.”
Roman let out an awkward exhale as he lay back. Shiv was still frozen, staring at her phone like it had betrayed her by cutting off Tom.
“We’re all going to die,” Roman said, resigned.
***
They were stuck together in one room for almost five whole days before someone decided to do something.
The electricity didn’t come back. One of the waiters had the most battery left on their phone, and they streamed a radio for their updates as best as they could (not without a comment from Roman that they were back in the dark ages). Apparently it had started from a fungal infection in wheat used in most major market brands for bread. The Roys were never so happy their parents had insisted since they were children that their chefs used high-quality imported ingredients.
At the end of the first day, staffers decided to go home and check on their families, dwindling their numbers to just their essentials; everyone already knew those who left wouldn’t be returning. Shiv hadn’t gotten a call from Tom or Greg, just a single short text message 10 minutes after they’d hung up, then radio silence.
By the end of the second day, they had passed around a portable charger that was hidden away in the safe room until it died. Half of everyone’s phones had gone black while trading off radio duties, and the staff had stopped working, sitting around with the siblings as they waited for some sort of hopeful message.
By the morning of the third day, the banging on the safe room door had started. Kendall had woken up with a jolt and looked over to see Roman sitting by the door and staring at it.
“Do you think we’re gonna get out of here?” Roman said, looking at his brother. For a second, Kendall was reminded of when they were kids, unloved by their parents and looking for comfort from the only people they had — each other.
“Yeah,” Kendall said. He believed it too. This would go away; it had to. “Go back to sleep. You’ll feel better after.”
By the morning of the fourth day, Kendall woke up to Shiv screaming.
“I mean what the fuck, Rome? What are the rest of us supposed to do now?”
“What happened?” Kendall asked, sitting up. His head pounded, but he pushed past it; he’d had the last bits of his coke reserve that was in his suit pocket (not without a “Really, Ken?” from his sister as he snorted it) and the itch was starting to kick in.
“I’m sorry, man,” Roman said, looking genuinely upset from where he sat in the plush reclining chair, his knees against his chest. Kendall’s blood ran cold.
“He ate the rest of the fucking food!” Shiv exclaimed, pointing at Roman in accusation as she stared at Kendall as if he could fix it, her face red and tears streaming. Kendall couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen her cry like that. At that moment, he hated being the oldest.
“Roman, what the fuck?” Kendall asked lowly. He was shocked, and then he looked at the floor. The luxury little salt and vinegar chip bags they had been rationing were all open and crumpled, leaving nothing but crumbs on the floor. Even the staff members who had chosen to stay were staring at his little brother with bloody murder in their eyes.
“I was fucking hungry, man, I can’t survive off those little cheese and crackers we were eating—”
“How do you think all of us feel, Rome? We’re all eating the same as you!” Kendall exploded. He stood up, towering over his brother with Shiv next to him, screaming their frustrations out.
When they had finally given up and cooled off, the bangs at the door had gotten louder. Everyone knew what was behind the door at this point, but Roman had just taken their safehold and put a ticking time bomb on it; they would have to go out soon enough, driven by their hunger.
Huh, Kendall realized offhandedly as he sat against the door, leaning his head on it. He didn’t know if he was only imagining it with his spiraling thoughts at the prospect of having no food, but he thought he could almost hear the zombies’ groans from beyond.
3 days? That’s the longest we’ve gone without a shouting match in a while, I think.
***
“I’m gonna go out,” Shiv finally said at the start of the fifth day.
“No, you can’t,” Roman said, standing up. He was holding onto the wall, shaking off the dizziness as the blood rushed to their head; none of them had eaten in at least a full day now and it was taking a toll.
“You guys might be ready to go out like nobodies, but I’m not planning on dying here,” Shiv said. She was marching around the little space, stepping over everyone. They had all gotten too exhausted compared to the hustle and bustle that had taken over the room from the first day; everyone was slumped on the floor.
“Shiv, think a little,” Kendall said. “None of us know what to do out there.”
“I am thinking,” she said, fixing him with a hardened glare. “I’m thinking about what in here makes a good weapon.”
Kendall exchanged a look with Roman. Neither of them ever voiced it, not wanting to get outdone by their little sister, but she was right. Their time was up.
The siblings circled the room like sharks, trying to figure out what would be useful. They gathered the glasses, the kitchen utensils, phones since they were all dead and useless — a chunk of metal had to hurt if they threw it or bashed a zombie’s head with it, right?
“Let’s put on extra layers,” Kendall said, opening up the closet they had. It was made up of just some basics, but they figured it had to be a little useful if the zombies were mainly attacking through biting; human teeth couldn’t tear through clothing.
“Wait, let’s also do a chair barricade,” Shiv said. They looked at the sofas, only 2 of which were even realistic to move.
“Don’t move them,” Kendall stopped her. She looked at him confused. “They’ve been pretty quiet out there; we don’t want to wake them with the noise.”
She stood up, knowing he was right. The staffers had gained interest now that it looked like they were serious about venturing past the safe room. Roman was wringing his hands out by his sides, wearing a rumpled cashmere sweater over his suit and sweating as he caught their eye.
“Well don’t just stand there!” he whisper-shouted at the suits. “We’re not making ourselves fucking martyrs here, y’all have to get off your asses too!”
Once everyone was prepared, the Roys stood like a united front, everyone armed with whatever they could in their pockets and hands. Jess stood by a chair, ready to push it as the door opened to create a blockade once they didn’t have the soundproof walls to hide them anymore.
“Okay, here’s what’s gonna happen: we go to the break rooms, depending on how many zombies are in our way and we come back with the food. In and out, quick and easy,” Kendall said.
“That’s what your mom said,” Roman said half-heartedly. No one replied, but a rumbling stomach cut in, reminding them all that this mission was literally life or death.
Shiv looked the most prepared out of all of them, her jaw set. Roman was nearly shuddering in fear. Kendall gave his arm an encouraging squeeze as he gulped.
“Okay, here we go,” Shiv whispered, tapping her keycard against the padlock. It beeped and unlocked and everyone seemed to hold their breath.
“Ready? Now!” she said. Then she pushed open the door.
Jess was ready to move the chair in front of the opening as the three siblings moved out in a line, trying to stay quiet. The three of them pushed against the wall, and when they peered down the hall, Roman let out a cry in between them. Both Shiv and Kendall clapped a hand over his mouth at the same time.
On either end of the hall, there were the remnants of their office workers; some of them walked on clearly broken limbs twisted wrong, had bits of them torn out so there were holes in their sallow flesh. But what all of them shared were a greenish tinge to their skin and fungal growths, the kind that was unimaginable on a human, coming out of their mouths and their eye sockets. There were at least 20 in the hallway alone — not a good sign for what was to come.
Kendall almost retched a little, but he clamped down his jaw, trying to keep quiet. It was no use anyway; Roman’s outcry had called the attention of a pair that had just passed them by the door of the safe room immediately, whipping their heads around and snarling.
“Run!” Shiv exclaimed shakily, pushing her brothers as they began to run, gathering the sounds of the zombies whose interest hadn’t yet been piqued by their thundering footsteps.
“Jess, get your ass out here!” Kendall called, wishing someone would leave the safe room to come help them. Roman was nearly tripping over his feet by him and Kendall was forcibly yanking him along. He was a Roy, god damn it — they were the stuff of American Gilded Age legends. They weren’t about to be taken out by their own fucking office workers.
There was a scream that was too familiar and Kendall turned, seeing Shiv trip over her own heels, tall ones she tended to wear every time she was in the office. It was enough for a zombie at the front of the pack to grab her.
“Kendall!” she shouted his name and Kendall nearly stopped in his tracks as she got pulled back aggressively. He could see blood spatter dark against the tinge of her hair as her scream gargled and her arm reached towards the ceiling wildly.
“What are we gonna do?” Roman sobbed into him and Kendall turned away, feeling hot tears burn his eyes.
“We’re gonna make it, bro, don’t worry,” he said, pulling them further as they began to ran faster than they ever thought they could.
They turned the corner and Kendall pointed at the break room across the hall. The only problem was that they had to pass open desks of computers to make it there, and more zombies were in their way.
“I can’t do it, man, I just c-can’t—” Roman shuddered against him. Finally, Kendall shoved him.
“Pull yourself together!” He whisper-screamed. But the zombies wandering in between the computers had heard. Not to mention that the stampede that was eating the remains of his sister was going to finish soon enough.
“Fuck it, I’m going,” Kendall said before he made a run for it.
“Wait, Kendall, fuck, wait—!” Roman said behind him. Kendall heard footsteps start before he heard his cries for him start to dissolve into incomprehensible fear. Kendall didn’t turn around to see what happened to his brother who didn’t get a head start past the zombies, hoping he was able to pull the attention away from him.
Kendall didn’t have the capacity to think about what had just happened, not when he heard the tearing of flesh, once he made it to the break room door. He jiggled at the lock and saw the keycard pad, pulling at his pockets desperately to pull out his keycard. He prayed during those few seconds as the lock unscrambled and he pushed the door open, stumbling in.
He closed it and laughed despite himself. It was quiet, leaving only the sounds of his siblings’ being torn apart ringing in his ears, which was starting to settle heavy on him like the weight of the world. He didn’t realize until that moment that tears had already been freely streaming down his face, wetting his neck and reaching the collar of the cardigan he’d worn.
Kendall turned around, expecting to see food left behind like a pile of treasure. Instead his smile dropped and he stood still.
A zombie was sitting crumpled in the corner, its eyes on him. It was some woman that had sat outside their glass offices on the top floor for years; Kendall really should have known her name. He was sure he’d hit on her after being upset with his wife at some company dinner.
As she stood up, Kendall looked around and realized a possibility he hadn’t even considered had come true: the break room was ransacked down to the very last inch. He looked at the stripped shelves and the food packages left abandoned on the floor, any possible sustenance crushed under footfall. He opened the fridge next to the door and it was empty besides a few soda cans.
The zombie had stood up, walking over to him with a renewed vigor with every step. Weren’t these fuckers supposed to be slow? Kendall pulled at his pockets, feeling a kitchen knife closed in between his palm. He didn’t even notice the sting of the blade as it broke skin, yanking it out and preparing to stab the woman as she approached.
He might have lost his siblings to the fray, but Kendall was going to be the hero who returned with food, no matter how few morsels he came back with. It had to be enough for just a little bit more life. He couldn’t die here; he had the company still to run when this was all over, after all, especially now that his meddling siblings were out of the game.
Kendall held the knife in his hand, ready to bring it down to her face. He hesitated when she was close enough, hands reaching for his shoulders and mouth opening with a rancid breath washing over him, but he still managed to get the knife in her eye, gasping in horror at what he did. That should be it, right?
He’d forgotten one little detail when she didn’t stagger back in pain immediately: these were zombies. They didn’t feel pain, and they didn’t die easily.
With the knife grotesquely in her eye, she bit into his shoulder with a strength he didn’t even know was possible. Kendall cried out; he’d thought the horrible discomfort of hunger and the fear of running away from zombies hurt, but he didn’t realize how badly he could even hurt until this moment. She looked at him as she ripped part of his shoulder away, blood spilling on the sweater as he slackened in her grip, staring at her in disbelief.
After everything he’d done, Kendall had still lost.
The zombie woman went in for another feverish bite of his flesh and Kendall slumped against the door, realizing he was going to die unimportant by someone unimportant and giving up.