Coffee Shop Ending

Ah yes, there is nothing quite like sipping an espresso in California, watching the sunset. Unless, of course, the end of the world had just started. But that was just a minor technicality. I had not realized this until the first zombie started tottering towards me, obviously imbalanced. I squinted my already small eyes and sighed. Probably a man on drugs, or a cosplaying teen. I sipped the last of my espresso and got up. Leaving seven dollars on the table, I left the quaint coffee shop and onto the sidewalk. And that in itself was a bad idea.

Wherever I walked, there were the same zombified people. I had simply crossed it off my mind and thought that it was some weird flashmob. Oh how wrong I was. Pulling out my phone, I stared mainly at it and scrolled through social media. There were many photos online of the same zombified people, some even on the other side of the world. I shrugged. Probably some new trend. I had never really done trends, I was that socially incapable.

I had begun to realize what had happened when, staring at my phone, I suddenly looked up. I screamed. In front of me was an old lady, her eye sockets bare, half her face bones, and she was looking like she was ready to eat me. I took a few steps backwards before I bumped into something. Turning around, I screamed again. It was another zombie, a man. I started sprinting; I wasn’t on the track and field team for nothing.

The zombies had begun to form a hoard, but still couldn’t catch me. I somehow made it into the same coffee shop my little adventure had began in. I ran in, and the windows were now boarded up with wood. Using what little strength I had left, I broke through the thick glass door and landed my butt inside. I rubbed by head and checked myself. Some cuts on my arms, which had taken the glass impact, but otherwise I was fine.

I looked around and finally noticed that there were people surrounding me. “Er... Hi?” I said, the statement coming out like a question. “Hello, mate. Glad you could join us this very fine day,” a British boy, about my age, said sarcastically. “Yes, very fine. Particularly with the zombies and everything,” I retorted just as sarcastic. “Aye, chill out Oliver. She’s strong, and we might need her,” a girl, also my age, said. What had I landed myself into?