More (Prescription) Drug-Induced Dreaming
Bizarre Dream #3:
I am in an industrial complex down here in the Medical Center, and the complex is under seige by a zombie uprising. (Stop laughing.) I am armed with an automatic pistol with a silencer. I pass through a dark doorway into a cavernous room where I see a group of the undead milling around, about thirty yards away. It's a big open room, like a warehouse, lit only by the light coming in through sky lights. So the area where the zombies are standing around is sufficiently lit, but I'm still in semi-shadow, partially obscured by some large crates, cable spools, etc.
I step around a larger crate and raise my weapon. I set my sights on the head of one of the male zombies, a broad-shouldered guy with a blue plaid shirt and jeans. But for whatever reason, I just couldn't pull the trigger. I told myself, I can snipe a few of the closer or more dangerous ones before the rest notice and start looking around, but I just couldn't do it. I have no idea why. I raised the gun, sighted, and lowered it. Raise, sight, lower.
Suddenly, a female zombie spots me and begins running my way. She looked like she used to be middle-aged, and she was wearing a red dress. I stumble backwards, and land in a sitting position on the floor with my right arm propped on a low crate, straight out at shoulder level, still holding the gun. She keeps coming toward me, at a decent clip, howling that creepy howl, and for some reason, I can't lift my weapon. I realize metaconsciously that I'm petrified, and I'm just sitting there, motionless, not screaming, not even making a scared face, just frozen. The she-demon is running (loping is really a better word) closer and closer. I try to will my arm to move, telling myself to raise the gun and fire, but I just couldn't move. I watch her get dangerously close. Fifteen feet. Ten feet. Five. She jumps at me, arms raised, mouth open, fangs bared and dripping, that howl almost deafening.
In mid-flight, she is thrown to my left, in an explosion of fluid and sound. You see, there's also a military detail fighting off the undead. (I think they were Special Forces, or some other predictable specialized unit--I never claimed that my dreams were very original. ) One of the guys had blasted her with a shotgun. Then, the group of seven or eight heavily-armed soldier types (I'd like to mention that there was a female Marine there also--even my dreams are equal-opportunity!) charge toward the crowd of zombies who heard the blast and turned to attack us. The Marines dispatch the undead pretty quickly, and are ready to charge into the next production floor of the warehouse. The guy who had saved me, turns backward to me, and yells, "Come on, man!!!" and turns back, running through the door.
Do I follow them, and redeem myself with equally heroic exploits? No, I sneak off down a hallway to the parking lot, get in my truck, and speed away down the highway. The last thing I remember is that I'm driving north on Highway 59, past the east side of the downtown Houston skyline. The sky is green-grey, and I see several funnel clouds heading toward the skyscrapers and stadiums of Downtown, from the north and north east. As the highway turns more northeast, I see the entirety of Downtown, as the tornados began eating up buildings.
And that's my freaking dream.
I woke up, feeling very disappointed in myself for being spineless. I chided myself for choking when the moment of truth came. I understood that it was just a dream, but it seemed to be indicative of how I would react in the unlikely but possible event of an Undead invasion.
I'm still ashamed. So much so that when I get home, I'm going right to the videostore to rent the original "Dawn of the Dead" and probably one of the "Resident Evil" or "Silent Hill" games. I've got to practice more.
Just in case.