"We can't stay up here forever."
The horde clamored beneath them, surrounding the building, the fire truck, filling the parking lot, the street.
"Maybe they'll go away. The wind'll change, they'll smell something—"
"There's too many. Some of them will, maybe. Not enough."
"So what do we do? We'll starve. We'll die of dehydration or exposure or something."
"Someone will come. The cops, the army—"
"Half of those zombies are army. No one's coming."
They sat silent for a long time, holding hands.
"Still. Nice view. I always wanted to climb up here when I was a kid."