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Saturday night, I had an extremely vivid dream. I can tell you that it was extremely vivid, because I still remember bits and pieces of it today--four days later.
Zombies.
I fought zombies.
I'm wondering if my muse wants me to write a zombie story.
Zombies.
I fought zombies.
Well, to be honest, more like "we" fought zombies. There were others on my side, though I can't remember exactly who. I think they were the family (wife, child, and possibly some of my siblings), possibly some friends, but....um. Yeah. So it kind of felt like being in a zombie movie.
The earliest part I can recall, was backing into an elevator, while we fired our guns. Some kind of automatic weapons. "Machine gun" in the very generic sense. To be honest, I have zero experience with guns, so I doubt they were specific models, more like a generic image that my mind put together of "powerful, awesome, gun." Probably something out of the Matrix lobby scene. I remember retreating back into the building, having just been out on the street. In that strange, only makes sense in a dream way, I believe we backed off the street directly into the elevator. I know. Weird.
So then, we tried to close the doors, before the zombies could come up and attack us. You know, the frantic pushing of the button thing. But the zombies got to the door, and while they reached in to get us, we fired through the gap in the door to blow them away. Well, one of them was out in the lobby pressing the 'up' button to keep opening the door. I'm pretty sure that zombies aren't supposed to have enough presence of mind to do that. On the other hand, I have no idea why the zombie arms reaching into the elevator weren't breaking the infrared beam and causing the doors to open on their own account, without having someone push the button, but I quite distinctly remember that a zombie pushing the 'up' button, because I had to dodge out into the hall, and shoot him to stop it.
That's when things got weird. Because the next wave of zombies heading our way had guns. Big guns. And I had to dodge a hail of bullets as I ran back into the elevator. The doors shut and a last minute flurry of lead came flying in through the narrowing gap. We pressed up against the sides hoping to not get hit. I realized they would press the button again, and open the doors before the elevator moved. Then we'd be dead. So I did what any one would do in this situation. I started to pound on the walls and doors of the elevator with the back of my elbow, smashing the metal walls and bending them so that they could not be forced open. Yeah, right. Cause apparently, I'm that strong. In a way only consistent in Hollywood film logic, this frustrated the zombies, preventing them from gaining entry to the elevator, and killing us. I remember hearing the gunfire, and seeing the bullets deforming the metal door in small divots all over. However, it did not prevent the elevator from moving, and getting us back to our floor. In the hotel. Or apartment building. Or hospital. It flashed through all of those possibilities throughout the dream.
We got back to our room, unlocked it with one of those cards like in a hotel, and got inside. Inside the suite/apartment things were safe. I knew the situation was dire though, because some random zombies still roamed the halls. The generic kind, not the gun toting kind. Occasionally, people would step out of their rooms all up and down the hall, and shoot them. I watched through the peephole several times, watching our little community defend itself. The bad thing was, one our guys had been hit. We dug the bullet out of the wound, but instead of an ordinary lead bullet, it was some kind of long canister that had these bugs in it. Almost like cockroaches, but more the size of ladybugs. And I knew, somehow, that these were the real threat. These bastards were responsible for the zombies. We contained the dormant bugs in a bottle. Our friend was a goner, but he resigned to go out into the halls, and hunt down zombies until he was out of ammo or died. We wished him good luck gave him a sack with spare clips, and let him go. Damn, that was pretty cold. Then we proceeded to take the bugs we'd found further up the hallway, into the barricaded hospital area, to get our sample to the scientists. Because, dream logic working much like Hollywood logic, anyone with any kind of scientific training, can of course substitute for all other types of scientists. So doctors=specialists in discovering how the bugs work and turn people into zombies.
Next we had another run in with some gun toting zombies. Unfortunately, among them was our former friend. I guess we didn't get all of the bugs out of him. So we had to kill him. When we did, we got up close to the body, and found a much larger version of the bug in his head. This one the size of a giant hissing cockroach. We caught it, and brought that to the guys in the hospital wing. Then we headed back to the apartment/hotel suite, and got back inside before more zombies came shambling down the hall.
We were making plans, on what to do next, when I woke up.
I haven't seen a zombie movie in like a good six to eight months. I think other than the tidbits I've read occasionally on Richard Crawford's blog, I haven't given all that much thought about zombies. In fact, I'm not sure when the last horror flick I saw was. (The lovely wife is decidedly not a fan of horror movies.) So I have no idea what the heck brought this on. It didn't feel like a nightmare. Even though I describe some pretty hectic and intense action, I didn't wake up freaking out, or in a pool of sweat or anything. It felt much more like I'd been watching a movie, and staring in it at the same time. Wild. And this write up is days later. The memories were much, much more vivid Sunday morning when I first woke up.
The earliest part I can recall, was backing into an elevator, while we fired our guns. Some kind of automatic weapons. "Machine gun" in the very generic sense. To be honest, I have zero experience with guns, so I doubt they were specific models, more like a generic image that my mind put together of "powerful, awesome, gun." Probably something out of the Matrix lobby scene. I remember retreating back into the building, having just been out on the street. In that strange, only makes sense in a dream way, I believe we backed off the street directly into the elevator. I know. Weird.
So then, we tried to close the doors, before the zombies could come up and attack us. You know, the frantic pushing of the button thing. But the zombies got to the door, and while they reached in to get us, we fired through the gap in the door to blow them away. Well, one of them was out in the lobby pressing the 'up' button to keep opening the door. I'm pretty sure that zombies aren't supposed to have enough presence of mind to do that. On the other hand, I have no idea why the zombie arms reaching into the elevator weren't breaking the infrared beam and causing the doors to open on their own account, without having someone push the button, but I quite distinctly remember that a zombie pushing the 'up' button, because I had to dodge out into the hall, and shoot him to stop it.
That's when things got weird. Because the next wave of zombies heading our way had guns. Big guns. And I had to dodge a hail of bullets as I ran back into the elevator. The doors shut and a last minute flurry of lead came flying in through the narrowing gap. We pressed up against the sides hoping to not get hit. I realized they would press the button again, and open the doors before the elevator moved. Then we'd be dead. So I did what any one would do in this situation. I started to pound on the walls and doors of the elevator with the back of my elbow, smashing the metal walls and bending them so that they could not be forced open. Yeah, right. Cause apparently, I'm that strong. In a way only consistent in Hollywood film logic, this frustrated the zombies, preventing them from gaining entry to the elevator, and killing us. I remember hearing the gunfire, and seeing the bullets deforming the metal door in small divots all over. However, it did not prevent the elevator from moving, and getting us back to our floor. In the hotel. Or apartment building. Or hospital. It flashed through all of those possibilities throughout the dream.
We got back to our room, unlocked it with one of those cards like in a hotel, and got inside. Inside the suite/apartment things were safe. I knew the situation was dire though, because some random zombies still roamed the halls. The generic kind, not the gun toting kind. Occasionally, people would step out of their rooms all up and down the hall, and shoot them. I watched through the peephole several times, watching our little community defend itself. The bad thing was, one our guys had been hit. We dug the bullet out of the wound, but instead of an ordinary lead bullet, it was some kind of long canister that had these bugs in it. Almost like cockroaches, but more the size of ladybugs. And I knew, somehow, that these were the real threat. These bastards were responsible for the zombies. We contained the dormant bugs in a bottle. Our friend was a goner, but he resigned to go out into the halls, and hunt down zombies until he was out of ammo or died. We wished him good luck gave him a sack with spare clips, and let him go. Damn, that was pretty cold. Then we proceeded to take the bugs we'd found further up the hallway, into the barricaded hospital area, to get our sample to the scientists. Because, dream logic working much like Hollywood logic, anyone with any kind of scientific training, can of course substitute for all other types of scientists. So doctors=specialists in discovering how the bugs work and turn people into zombies.
Next we had another run in with some gun toting zombies. Unfortunately, among them was our former friend. I guess we didn't get all of the bugs out of him. So we had to kill him. When we did, we got up close to the body, and found a much larger version of the bug in his head. This one the size of a giant hissing cockroach. We caught it, and brought that to the guys in the hospital wing. Then we headed back to the apartment/hotel suite, and got back inside before more zombies came shambling down the hall.
We were making plans, on what to do next, when I woke up.
I haven't seen a zombie movie in like a good six to eight months. I think other than the tidbits I've read occasionally on Richard Crawford's blog, I haven't given all that much thought about zombies. In fact, I'm not sure when the last horror flick I saw was. (The lovely wife is decidedly not a fan of horror movies.) So I have no idea what the heck brought this on. It didn't feel like a nightmare. Even though I describe some pretty hectic and intense action, I didn't wake up freaking out, or in a pool of sweat or anything. It felt much more like I'd been watching a movie, and staring in it at the same time. Wild. And this write up is days later. The memories were much, much more vivid Sunday morning when I first woke up.
I'm wondering if my muse wants me to write a zombie story.
