Dream: Video Game Reality

Zombies chased me down a dark, rainy street. My main thought was "I'm screwed", because I have zero plans for surviving the zombie apocalypse. But I ran anyway because I wanted to live just the same.

A man on a motorcycle skidded his vehicle to a halt next to me. "Heya, get on." He was portly, pale-skinned, clean-shaven, with short brown hair and nerdy glasses; young, probably 20-something. I got on, and he zoomed off. Despite this being the zombie apocalypse, he was calm and collected. He turned down an alleyway, where two broad, hulking zombies shambled towards us. A giant tire and some other debris littered the alleyway. "Hmm," the motorcycle rider said, more to himself than me. "Skid and send the debris into them? Seems obvious. I think we can do better than that." He skidded the motorcycle to a halt, put the kickstand down, and leaped upon the zombies like a video game action hero. He flipped the tire to trap one, kicked the other into the debris pile, and then beat the crap out of them while they flailed. It looked like a video game sequence.

It was a video game sequence, I realized with a shock. This zombie apocalypse was straight out of a video game, and this nerdy man knew how to play. 

I was still screwed, though: I'd never liked horror games and barely had any experience playing them. I had to stay close to this guy. 

We investigated the situation, trying to figure out what had caused it. We spied on some white-coated men and a management-type guy in a suit, who looked like he was in charge. 

While investigating, I was separated from my ally. I moved stealthily, avoiding zombies while I tried to find him again. I turned down one street to and found a candy-colored section of town. It wasn't night or raining; it was sunny and bright and pixelated, with no sign of zombies. Cartoon monkeys wreaked mischief, throwing flower pots off window ledges and other minor nuisances. This is an 80s arcade game! I realized. I know how to play this game! I waded in, catching flower pots and putting them back, capturing monkeys to go back to the zoo, avoiding hazards. Soon, I had the block back in order.

My ally found me there, and asked me to return to the zombie areas to continue our investigation. I went with him. After a while, we were confident that Suit Guy was responsible for this mess. We caught Suit Guy with just one white-coated man. My ally had found a gun and pointed it at Suit Guy.

We were some distance away, but Suit Guy caught the motion and turned to us. He raised one hand in a warding motion. "Drew, don't."

My ally -- Drew? -- he hesitated.

"What are you waiting for?" I asked. "He's right there! We can end this!" 

Drew still hesitated, and I thought, Oh no. He doesn't want to end this. Why would he? He's an expert at the zombie-apocalypse game. This is his chance to shine, for the skills he's spent years honing to have practical value -- to be priceless! -- in daily life.

And then there was a flashback, to a pizza parlor in the Before Times, where Drew was sweeping up and Suit Guy was balancing the cash register before saying good night.

I realized that Drew knew Suit Guy. But he wasn't hesitating because Suit Guy had been his manager, or because he'd been a particularly good manager, or because they were still working together now in some nefarious way. 

It was because Suit Guy was a person, a human being. Fighting zombies was totally different from a shooting a man. Especially a man he knew. 

This is when I woke up.