Death.
Seemed fitting really. After all this time in the world with dead people walking it was liable to happen sometime sooner rather than later. I never really had the best luck, so making it this far in this new shit world was a miracle actually. All those close encounters probably helped me, trained me, to make it this far. But nothing like that would help me in our current situation.
This is never really the way I pictured it. Well except being with him of course. Before this whole Doomsday, Zombie Apocalypse, end of the world stuff, I had pictured growing old with him. Having babies, grandchildren, white picket fence, all that crap. Meanwhile my best friend was inside my head, yelling "I told you so Ash!" the whole time. Sarah always said I would be one of the first in the group to get married, and fuck she was right. Damn I was gonna miss her too. My twin. The real best friend it took me 18 years to find, the only one besides him that I trusted with my life. And Sarah would be okay. She was always stronger, more resilient anyway. If anyone could survive, it was her.
God I hated being sappy. But since people started eating each other I had always wished that I would die first, just so I would never have to live a moment without him or the other important people in my life. As much as i would never admit it out loud, I hated being alone.
Hopefully God would give me that last wish now, if he remained, or ever even existed at all.
Standing there, watching his blue eyes furiously switch back from me to his brother who he hadn't seen in almost 2 years. Tearing those bags off our heads to see that people still existed.
But lucky for us I guess they all wanted us dead. Perfect.
And now we were waiting.
Waiting.
Waiting for death.
Waiting for life in this cruel world to end.
Waiting to be let free back out into that hell people still called earth.
Or hopefully, just waiting to wake up from some sick nightmare and end up back into the real world.
But honestly, who knew what was real any more?