The Plague Unto The End Read Free

off.
     
    “What!  No, I was in the middle of something!” said Thomas as he ran into the front room.
     
    “Yeah, and what would that be?” I asked.
     
    “I had...a game paused on there,” said Thomas.
     
    “Oh, I’m sorry.  What game was it?” I asked.
     
    Thomas just stared at me for a few seconds.  “Well you weren’t playing it and you said I couldn’t play it until you played through it once,” said Thomas as he tried to explain himself.
     
    “Well, I’ve been busy at work and with school I haven’t had time to play it yet.  Just wait.  You’ll get a chance to play it,” I said as I walked back to my room.
     
    I kicked off my shoes, took off my work shirt and changed into a clean pair of jeans.  I pulled out my textbook and my notebook from my backpack and started to eat the casserole.  I tried to make a mental note to remind myself to turn on my alarm before I went to sleep.  Late study sessions could end up badly if I didn’t wake up.  I went through the study guide until I couldn’t stand the thought of reading it anymore.  I almost fell asleep with my book on my lap, leaning up against the wall next to my bed, but I was able to catch myself before it happened.  I put my books back into my bag and stumbled back over to my bed.  I didn’t look at the clock before I went to bed and had no idea what time it was.  It didn’t take but a couple of seconds for me to drift off.

Dream #1...
     
    I pull a door shut behind myself.  I am standing and staring at a dingy off-white painted wall.  I look to my right and see a hall that stretches about fifteen feet.  At the end of the hall there is a beat-up metal door.  The door looks damaged around the handle and the deadbolt.  It is not shut all the way and I can see that there is darkness outside of the door.
     
    There is a lamp with a metal shade hanging from the ceiling halfway down the hall.  The lampshade directs the light into a diffused circle on the worn concrete floor.
     
    I look to my left and see the hallway extends in that direction about five feet.  There is a small workbench at that end of the hall.  The bench has a table lamp with an articulating arm and the lamp is lighting a smaller black object on the table.
     
    I look down at my clothes and see that I am wearing a gray hooded sweatshirt and jeans.  I also feel something heavy on my back and realize that I am wearing my dark-red backpack.  The sleeves of my sweatshirt are rolled up and dirty.  I have a bandage wrapped around my left arm.  I clench my fist and the injury burns.  My right leg has a dark red stain around my thigh.  My right leg feels tight and sore.
     
    I start to walk toward the table, but look behind myself as I begin to walk.  I see that I was standing in front of a flimsy wooden door with a small window in the upper half of the door.  I turn back to look at the bench and realize that the black object is a handgun.  I pause for a moment because I recognize the weapon.  It is my dad’s .40 caliber, Glock 23.
     
    There is a box of ammunition and a magazine on the bench next to the Glock.  I feel the urge to start loading the magazine.  I start taking bullets from the ammo box and begin to shove them into the magazine as fast as I can.  After I force the fourth bullet into the magazine, I hear a noise from behind me.  I freeze.
     
    I stand still and listen.  I hear the wind outside pick up slightly and the door at the end of the hall squeaks as the wind pushes it, but I hear something else, a shuffling noise.  I slowly turn and look at the door.  I can see a light coming from above the door outside.
     
    A hand appears from outside the door and pushes the door open.  I remain still and motionless watching the entryway.  The head of the person at the door comes into view, but the light from the overhead lamp does not reach his face.  I can tell it is a man, but something is wrong with him.  He is off-balance and awkward.  He