"It was just a dream, just a dream."
I said gasping and stuttering. Everything had seemed so real, everything was so real.
"Oh god"
I ran to the bathroom and prayed to the porcelain god, my head felt like it had been split in two with an old Go-Devil.
I Flushed the toilet and walked to the sink, turning the facet on. A few splashes of cold water and a sip to swish and spit made me feel, at least a little, fresher. I walk into the kitchen and the first thing I notice is all my gear stacked neatly in a pile. The second thing I notice is the vast sea of beer cans littering the island. I don't think I've ever drank so much, explains the larger than usual hangover and my stomach's hatred of me. I go to the fridge and grab a Gatorade, then the cupboard for a Tylenol.
"Extra strength hangover-b-gone."
After downing the blue electrolyte mix I go upstairs looking for Brando. All the doors were locked. I made my way back downstairs, where could he have gone? I went into the bathroom and freshened up, a quick shower, brushed teeth. Being clean just made me feel so much better, I almost forgot there was an apocalypse on. I wrapped a towel around my waist and walked out of the bathroom to grab my bag, it seemed heavier now. I unzipped it to grab a pair of pants and a shirt and found the Pistol with a box of ammunition sitting on top of everything. I took out the firearm and checked it, nothing in the chamber and no rounds in the magazine. I set the pistol aside and grabbed the clothes, changing quickly in the bathroom.
I put on my shoes, grabbed my bag, strapped my kukri to my leg, and stepped outside. I heard a clang from the garage and instantly drew my Pistol. I opened the side door to the garage and stepped in, work floods were illuminating an old Jeep Wrangler.
"Brando?"
*Clang*
"Fuck!"
I chuckled as Brando grumbled and picked up the tool he dropped.
"What are you working on?"
I queried as he walked to the drivers side door.
"Get in"
Brando said poignantly
I got in the passengers side door and buckled up. I always buckled up in Brando's Jeep never really knew why, didn't do it in other people's cars. Brando buckled up as well, also unusual. He put the key in the ignition and turned the engine over. The straight six roared to life and Brando cranked the stick into reverse, pulled a quick K-turn shifted into first and began to haul ass.
We were down the hill and into town in seconds. A few shufflers were left wandering the streets, Brando put his foot on the gas so hard I thought he'd break through the floorboard. This must have been why he buckled up because we became a battering ram.
The first zombie we hit was gone, just completely gone. It had putrified so much it exploded all over the from of the vehicle and on the windshield. Brando flipped the wipers and washer fluid. We hit at least another three shufflers but none of them were like the first.
I saw that the firehouse had changed, there was a platform leading the apartment adjacent to it. Every other building had the same platforms leading all the way to Sheila's shop.
"Fancy"
Brando seemed to be impressed by the raised platforms.
"Clever"
I thought it was pretty ingenius to be honest.
We hopped out of the jeep and walked up to the store, knocked, and waited for her reply. It never came. We decided to look around and noticed the door to the upper floor. It was closed but didn't seem to be reinforced by anything in particular so we walked over and turned the handle. The door came open, no locks, no boards.
I looked to Brando, he already had his shotgun out. I turned back around and unholstered my pistol, this felt all too familiar.
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