(no subject)
Apr. 1st, 2004 10:04 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
molly_oI keep having strange, disturbing dreams:
Last night, my dream had a lot of plot that I have since forgotten -- at one point I was on a college campus using some kind of nifty, futuristic database to research something -- but I do remember the end:
The sheriff (I think, or maybe mayor) and his reasonably upstanding officers (who were deputies or state troopers or something) confronted the very corrupt local police force with evidence of their corruption and promised to take them down. This didn't happen in a police station or anything, it happened in a basement or catacomb or somewhere where the two forces were supposed to be investigating some crime.
So the police officers (who were slightly greater in number, and far exceeded the deputies in ruthlessness) turned on the cops. They herded them all onto a bus that was supposed to take everyone back to town, and then locked the doors and set off an explosion. The explosion rocked the front of the bus, and I distinctly remember one of the deputies trying to shelter a fellow deputy, who had been wounded earlier, from the force of the blast.
In the end the blast didn't actually kill anyone, or even injure them severely (the cops miscalculated the explosion), so the deputies come off the bus feeling vaguely victorious (hey, they're alive), at which point the cops set on them with, I don't know, sledgehammers or something -- big, heavy, blunt weapons. I woke up as the first deputy to be attacked was slumping to the group with a stunned look on his face and a partially crushed skull, while the deputy next to him was just taking a blow to the head.
The night before, I dreamed about zombies -- except we weren't calling them zombies, it was understood to be an illness. The merest scratch contaminated with any biomatter from an infected person would, over a course of 72-96 hours, progress from mild flu-like symptoms to increased agitation to full on rampaging.
I was a healthy person working as a staff member to some VIP -- I'm not sure whether she was in industry or the government, she might have been a foreign dignitary -- and our offices had relocated to the top of the Empire State Building, which was fairly well barricaded so that healthy people were safely inside while the infected people marauded in the street. (These were not zombies like those in Dawn of the Dead, which mostly just paced when they weren't in the presence of fresh meat; these were more like the affected people in 28 Days Later, they were rioting and raping and getting up to all kinds of horrible behavior. Most of them died after a few days, torn limb-from-limb.)
So anyway, a guy shows up to meet with the whoever-she-was (senator?), and he seems OK, but then he starts to get kinda agitated, and we realize that he's infected and just turning. So we hustle him out of the building, and everything's fine except somehow during the hustling I wound up with a scratch in my hand and a small handful of his hair. We test the hair to confirm that yes, he is infected, and then it's just a matter of time for me. I'm wondering how long it's safe to postpone leaving the building -- because, though I'm pretty sure I'll be past caring, I'm really dreading going out into the horror and craziness outside -- when it dawns on me I can avoid that by jumping off the building. I am immensely relieved, and start getting ready to go to the roof. And then I wake up.
Last night, my dream had a lot of plot that I have since forgotten -- at one point I was on a college campus using some kind of nifty, futuristic database to research something -- but I do remember the end:
The sheriff (I think, or maybe mayor) and his reasonably upstanding officers (who were deputies or state troopers or something) confronted the very corrupt local police force with evidence of their corruption and promised to take them down. This didn't happen in a police station or anything, it happened in a basement or catacomb or somewhere where the two forces were supposed to be investigating some crime.
So the police officers (who were slightly greater in number, and far exceeded the deputies in ruthlessness) turned on the cops. They herded them all onto a bus that was supposed to take everyone back to town, and then locked the doors and set off an explosion. The explosion rocked the front of the bus, and I distinctly remember one of the deputies trying to shelter a fellow deputy, who had been wounded earlier, from the force of the blast.
In the end the blast didn't actually kill anyone, or even injure them severely (the cops miscalculated the explosion), so the deputies come off the bus feeling vaguely victorious (hey, they're alive), at which point the cops set on them with, I don't know, sledgehammers or something -- big, heavy, blunt weapons. I woke up as the first deputy to be attacked was slumping to the group with a stunned look on his face and a partially crushed skull, while the deputy next to him was just taking a blow to the head.
The night before, I dreamed about zombies -- except we weren't calling them zombies, it was understood to be an illness. The merest scratch contaminated with any biomatter from an infected person would, over a course of 72-96 hours, progress from mild flu-like symptoms to increased agitation to full on rampaging.
I was a healthy person working as a staff member to some VIP -- I'm not sure whether she was in industry or the government, she might have been a foreign dignitary -- and our offices had relocated to the top of the Empire State Building, which was fairly well barricaded so that healthy people were safely inside while the infected people marauded in the street. (These were not zombies like those in Dawn of the Dead, which mostly just paced when they weren't in the presence of fresh meat; these were more like the affected people in 28 Days Later, they were rioting and raping and getting up to all kinds of horrible behavior. Most of them died after a few days, torn limb-from-limb.)
So anyway, a guy shows up to meet with the whoever-she-was (senator?), and he seems OK, but then he starts to get kinda agitated, and we realize that he's infected and just turning. So we hustle him out of the building, and everything's fine except somehow during the hustling I wound up with a scratch in my hand and a small handful of his hair. We test the hair to confirm that yes, he is infected, and then it's just a matter of time for me. I'm wondering how long it's safe to postpone leaving the building -- because, though I'm pretty sure I'll be past caring, I'm really dreading going out into the horror and craziness outside -- when it dawns on me I can avoid that by jumping off the building. I am immensely relieved, and start getting ready to go to the roof. And then I wake up.