God’s Gonna Cut You Down

Last night I dreamed I was riding in the backseat of a car. My wife was there, and her sister, and we were listening to a Jesse Dayton song (one that I dreamed up, apparently) that was about a guy who kept getting locked up in prison, and then breaking out to go see his girl, and the funny ways he kept getting caught.

“that could be a great movie,” I said. “Or at least a cute one.”

“Yes yes,” my father, who was driving, assured me. “What we need to do is get you a motel room out by an old abandoned prison or something, that way you and your wife can write that pitch!”

We drove past an eerie church, all black rock and covered with dying ivy. It had a sign that said something like “Evil Church” and I thought: “Huh, that is an eerie, evil looking church.”

Then I was at this old abandoned prison, outside of Pittsburgh. I saw it once from a boat, where my wife and I were having dinner with my parents for my mother’s birthday. I remember the food was mediocre at best, but the music was good and it was neat seeing Pittsburgh from the water. The prison was in a rural area, mostly surrounded by barren trees.

In my dream, I found the prison shortly after the Zombiepocalypse kicked into overdrive- some survivalist guy had fully stocked it with canned and frozen foods, rolled in a couple huge industrial generators and a fuel truck, set up a radio transmitter and antenna and filled the armory with weaponry- then he got bitten by a zombie when he opened up the back door to let the cat out or something.

So I have this fully stocked massive place to live, to wait out the zombies, but I’m lonely, so I started broadcasting radio transmissions like: “Hey, I’ve got beer and a really kicking sound system hooked up. Any ladies out there, bite free?”

At one point, I had to open up the big front doors (they had a huge crossbar, strangely enough) to let in some survivors- an old couple in tourist clothes with handguns, an Asian woman about my age who spoke little English and probably was hiding a bite (I wasn’t gonna let her seduce me, I decided, in case she turned while we were making out) and more…

I was carrying a World War 1 era pump shotgun, with a bayonet on it, and when a zombie lurched out of the underbrush I stuck the blade into the soft rotting flesh of its cheek to hold it steady while I shot it in the brain.

I remember climbing into the bulldozer with the enclosed and reinforced Cab and driving into town to loot the liquor store. I didn’t like having tourists in my prison.

A college-aged girl kept arguing with me about wearing a pancake holster inside of the belt, it was just more comfortable than wearing a tactical leg-drop holster I said, she said I was basically carryong concealed and what was the point?

Everytime I drove the bulldozer past the old motel in the middle of the woods, I wondered what the hell I was doing back in Pittsburgh, and where my wife and kids were. Sure, the college girl was nice, and it turned out the Asian woman hadn’t been bitten- she just was afraid of me at first- but I sure did miss my family.

Eventually, I’m pretty sure one of the tourists had been bitten, because the other kept making excuses for why the other wasn’t coming to meals.

College Girl thought we should play more upbeat music on the radio show, that all the Cash, Cave, Waits and Glasseye I was spinning was a bit “grim”.

“It’s the zombie apocalypse.” I told her.

“You could at least play some Horrorpops,” she said. So I played Walk Like a Zombie, but really wanted to play Hitchcock Starlet, but I didn’t have it and the internet wasn’t up, so I couldn’t get it out of my email.

The problem with dreams is the waking up part, because then you aren’t sure if the weird slobbering sucking sounds you heard was Zombies chewing the flesh off the people in the prison, or the baby nursing.

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