Last night, I dreamt that my Dad, step-mom Nora, and sister Rose were altogether and that we were with my Dad as he was shopping for space in an atomic bomb proof vault. The location was beneath a large hotel, complete with conference rooms. My Dad was completing his purchase when the alarm went off, indicating an attack. But I knew something that my family didn’t. There was no attack, it was all part of a survival experiment.
I knew this because I had a dream-memory or flashback to being in a similar situation where there was a countdown to closing the vault, but then zombies were released. In the memory, my fight had started at the edges of the grand ballroom (perks of being a wallflower) and I fought my way out, dodging zombies and hiding as I went. I was one of the lucky survivors. For whatever reason, the vault employees and security had missed me when interviewing my family. I had to save my family.
It was just after dusk when my family had pulled up to the hotel to buy, so it was dark outside. After the alarm went off, we were instructed to follow the directions of the guards as they waved us through. As we walked the majestic hallways of the hotel, I was glancing around, looking for signs of zombies. We passed a dark hallway with the lights off when I saw one in a cage, hungry to be released.
My family entered the same ballroom that I had fought my way out of, and that was the last straw. I tugged my Dad’s shirt, “We need to talk, privately. Nora and Rose should come too.” I pulled them aside near to the hallway and told my Dad that we had to get out of there. I told him about how I had to fight my way through zombies the last time I was here and that this was all a trick. He didn’t believe me. The announcement came that they were going to close the doors in 10 minutes. I told him to trust me. “What is the worst that could happen?” I asked, “So the family is instantly vaporized by atomic weapons. At least we would die together, rather than suffer the horror of being separated and eaten by zombies.”
Somehow, this convinced him. We started walking out, telling the guards that we had to pick up something from the car. We all got in the car, and started to drive away, when my Dad noticed a VIP section or gallery opening or something and pulled over the car. We all got out. If the bomb was going to drop, he wanted to have a final drink.
We entered the VIP section, shaped like a tent attached to the hotel, and everyone was dress at a black tie standard, compared to my Dad in his tommy bahama hawaiian shirt. We were offered wine and champagne. My Dad took a scotch as the countdown reached closer to completion. Only 2 minutes left. I took the car keys from my Dad and set down my glass of wine. I decided that I would go get the car. As I started walking towards the exit, one of the security guards, a woman, stabbed me in the abdomen with a syringe. “Good luck ‘seeing’ your way out of this one with your eyes dialated,” she said and the world turned blindingly bright.
I stumbled out of the VIP section and I heard the roar on the wind of the zombies. It was night outside, but I could barely see. I made my way to the family Ford Explorer, started it up, and began driving it up the staircase and crashed it into the VIP area to rescue my family.
As I pulled up, I became increasingly blinded, but more importantly, everyone was gone. Apparently they left in the final minute down the hall toward the grand ballroom. I sat in the atrium with the engine running and the doors locked. A different security guard woman walked up and was about to ask a question, when my Dad walked up behind her and said it was okay and got into the truck. There was no sign of my stepmom or sister. I crawled to the back seat and locked the doors. I felt sick to my stomach and really drowsy and fell asleep in the backseat. As I was falling asleep, I heard my Dad begin the adventure of rescuing the rest of our family from zombies.