On the third and fourth days, James spent the days in his suite, in shock and despair at the undead state of the prostitute he was forced to put down. He spent a few hours on his porch, taking in the state of the city. Buildings burned, people were running down the streets, and the undead tirelessly shamboled on towards their next meal.

Then he turned TV on, and was even further shocked to find none of the normal programming on, all of the news channels, from CNN to MSNBC showed empty studios. Except CSPAN, which shown a timer counting down with a simplistic LOCKDOWN title.

Turning around to look outside for a moment before looking back at the timer, which read 5 Days, 12 hours, and 59 minutes.

Without taking the time to consider what lockdown meant, James quickly made an inventory of what was usable to take with him, eventually finding a bar of soap, a couple of travel shampoos, some sodas and booze from the mini fridge, but beyond that, and his handgun, nothing else.

On the 5th day, James had finally left his suite on the 10th floor, only to find many of the floors ominously empty, the third floor was the most interesting, or horrific would be a better word. Clothes littered the floor, blood smeared the walls, luckily he only encountered one Walker, knocking the undead Bellhop down a flight of stairs in the stairwell, stunning it, but not killing it.

Finally, he made it down to the lobby, once so clean, so organized, so perfect looking, now looked more like a war had swept through. Tables overturned, blood pools on the floor, lights flickered, glass was shattered and it littered the floor.

"Sweet Jesus," James gaped, and slowly walked out, and looked both ways down the sidewalk, only to hear the distinct gutteral moan of a couple more walkers coming down the sidewalk, "shoot," James said and hurried back inside and his behind an overturned oak table, readying his pistol, when he heard a sound coming from the cafeteria, "what now?" James moaned and took a moment to get up and investigate.