Ben had been wandering the streets for hours before he finally came across the police station. He had been looking for somewhere to rest for the night. He sighed with relief at the thought of a good nights sleep being guarded by armed officers. 

However as he approached the building his feelings turned to dread. The large front doors of the station had been smashed open with considerable force. One door lay flat on the marble floor of the lobby and the other was still hanging on to the frame by a few splinters of wood. Ben ran his hand up the edge of the, barely, standing door; it had to be about 6 or 7 inches thick. He started to imagine how many undead it would take to do such damage. He didn't want to know the answer.

Ben clutched his spade tightly as he stepped over the shattered wood fragments. The lobby was chaos: desks had been flipped over; shell casings were scattered everywhere and fragments of ceramic wall tiles littered the ground. As he stood in the centre of the room to survey the extent of the damage he heard a creak. He instantly regretted touching the door as it broke free of its hinges and hit the ground with a loud [b]CRACK[/b]. The sound echoed throughout the building. Ben really hoped that nothing else heard that.