fi•na•le
the last part of a piece of music, a performance, or a public event, especially when particularly dramatic or exciting.
an original zombie short story
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"It's the last stop," Cora uttered, spinning her handgun absentmindedly. She stared ahead at the sea of stumbling figures. "And it looks like we're not going anywhere. At least not without getting our heads bitten off, which sounds like a really good time."
"Oh they're gonna rip my head off? Ha, I'll rip them to pieces before they can even touch me!" Taylor said, punching the air as if it was attacking her. It was safe to say that she had never actually ripped someone to pieces before despite her bold words.
"Ah yes because you've been the one defending us every time we've been attacked." Cora rolled her eyes. "I'm pretty sure Alex is the only one who has actually tried to do that and he failed miserably. As expected."
"Okay, I didn't try to rip its head off, I just snapped its neck and might've almost got killed." Alex mumbled slightly as he said the last part. "And shouldn't you have some sympathy for the injured person."
Cora scoffed, "Who gives a shit? Let's just hurry up and get this over with, I don't wanna be in this train wreck longer than I have to. Now, where the hell is Jameson?"
"Shoot, you are right. She was supposed to be back by now." Dr. Periwinkle or Doc said while biting his nail anxiously.
"Well, she's either dead or... no, yeah she's probably dead." Alex said, ever the optimist.
"Don't say that. James is not dead. She can't be!" Doc said. Even though he was older than her by almost a decade, he looked up to the girl. He admired her resilience and loyalty. He wished he could be as loyal as her.
"Ah, yes because our fearless leader could never die." Cora was annoyed at the man's naivety. "Come on, Doc. You have to realize that you are more likely to die in this world than survive. And you have to take that and move on with your life. Dwelling on loss only makes you vulnerable to more attacks." It was the one good thing she could remember her father teaching her. Not that what he did could've been considered teaching.
Doc only shook his head and went back to biting his nails, muttering to himself, "Where the hell is she?"
