Yet again, it is the zombie apocalypse in my sub-conscious. I watched my first-ever horror movie last night, and this must be a result. (Not a zombie movie, a horror movie.)
It was the tail end of a zombie break-out. I had made it to the end, and so had my father. We were in a small tribe of people who were living (surviving) together somewhere around Tillson Street in my neighborhood. We had drifted around to several different groups and we were so used to living in the post-apocalyptic world that I was no longer even afraid of zombies, they were more of an annoyance.
At this point in the break-out, there were no more crowds of zombies. A handful or a few stragglers showed up as the dream progressed and I would always take care of them pretty swiftly. It was unrealistic because I didn’t destroy the brain, which is what most experts agree is the only way to truly kill the undead. I just killed the zombies in any way that would cause a human death.
For the majority of the dream, I was driving several people home from the small gathering that we had been in, and they were all my age and from my school. One of them was my friend Kyle from marching band, and possibly my friend Rose.
I drove them each home over the course of the day, killing the occasional zombie along the way. Finally, I was dropping one of the last kids off, and there were a bunch of band people hanging around near the person’s house. We went over to hang out with them when a fairly large group of zombies ran over, larger than I had seen in a while. I’m pretty sure one of them was my friend Vance.
Chaos ensued. I managed to get into my car and away from the attack. That’s all I remember.
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