My Own Screams

I hear my own scream as I realize that my friend has been pulled down by something. Suddenly, I see a spurting arch of blood. The next thing I know we are frantically deciding what it is we should do. We have to get him in the car.

We load him in the car. Everyone else piles in and suddenly I realize the only spot left is directly behind him. I refuse to sit there. He's just had half his face torn off by a flesh eating zombie, who knows when he'll change to one of them. And then, I'll be next.

We scramble around and I end up in the front seat. We drive frantically to find a place to leave him. It's more humane if we do it - if we kill him rather than let him turn. As we drive down the street, Jason notices that the gas station has been torn down. He casually asks when they did that, I look at him like he's nuts.

Off to the right we see a rock quarry. He says this is the place, but as we pull in I see men working at night and say it's too risky. He quickly turns the car around and we drive off to the side of the road, through a farmers front yard, I scream as we're about to hit some kind of an animal feeder and Jason veers crazily back on to the road.

I turn to look at my friend and notice he's moving and I think that the change happening.

Suddenly I feel lips on my face.

I open one eye and there is my husband, fresh out of the shower, kissing me awake.

I look at him - "You're really lucky you didn't just get punched in the face."