Nightmare

Woods covered almost the entire island. Dense jungle overtook the South part of it, but the place in the center where Steve chose to settle had more sparse vegetation. It could be almost called a grove, with many spacious glades and clearings. The island was fairly small. Since I've already been to the South side of it, I decided to explore to the North.

Numerous torches studded everywhere brightly lit up my path. Unhurriedly walking along, I wondered with amusement just how Steve managed to keep them all lit.

Soon, however, the oak forest ended and I came to the last line of torches. I paused at the edge, curiously looking at the darker woods beyond. I supposed that this was as far as my new friend had gone. Beyond lay the uncharted territory, tempting in its mystery. I stepped across the unmarked line from light into shadow.

Here, the woods seemed more... ominous. Crowns of trees tangled overhead, blocking out the moonlight. The trees cowered lower to the ground, their trunks thicker. The smell of something rotting permeated the heavy, damp air. Not a very cozy place.

Something moved in the gloomy shade just in the corner of my eye. A branch cracked, followed by an eerie sigh. Or maybe a breathless moan. I froze, tensely peering into the shadows and listening. Steve mentioned that he didn't finish exploring the entire island. Maybe there were other inhabitants here? Or... A wild predator lurking nearby?

A sound of released bowstring made me instinctively recoil. I stared at the feathered shaft of an arrow stuck in the tree right next to my head. In the next second, I bolted. Not bothering to see who it was shooting at me from the darkness, I ran back in the direction from which I came - back toward the light of the torches and safety. I could almost see the woods start lightening up, when a human form stepped into the path, blocking my way. It stood there, just a silhouette, then began walking toward me with a strangely ambling gate.

"Steve!" I said with relief. "Is that you?... Thank goodness! I have no idea what's going on here..." I froze with my mouth still open. Dumbfounded, I stared at the one hobbling toward me and struggled against rising disbelief. A stumbling gate. Rotting skin. Flaking off pieces of flesh... Empty, black pits instead of eyes... Coming toward me with its hands hungrily outstretched was a zombie!

Another arrow streaked toward me and this time hit the mark. I cried out in pain, instinctively reaching out to my calf. Despite the intense pain, I still managed to dive behind the trunk of a thick tree just as more deadly arrows whistled past me from the darkness. The unknown archer that hid there continued to shoot, cutting off my way to safety. Biting my lip to keep from making a frustrated whimper, I turned and fled randomly into the black forest.

..."They hide during the day." Steve's grim words sounded in my ears.

I limped along as quickly as I could, trying to keep back the rising despair. Now, I sincerely regretted that I ever left the house. What happened around me seemed more and more like a nightmare.

More and more undead came out of nowhere and joined their relentless pursuit. More and more arrows whistled by and menacing noises came from overheard among the trees – hissing and eerie tapping, as if numerous legs were pattering the bark climbing down.

I stopped, suddenly coming face to face with another crowd of the undead. I made a sharp move back and froze again at the sight of pursuing zombies catching up. I was trapped.

"It's over." A thought numbly occurred to me and I tightly shut my eyes, feeling cold hands grasping my flesh. And then...

My eyes flew open. Stunned, I lay there, blinking, my heart still thundering in my chest. The forest and the undead were gone. In confusion, I tried to figure out what was going on. I was... on my bed in Steve's dugout home... Was it all just a nightmare, then?

I frantically felt my arms and legs. Not a single wound. Relief washing over, I collapsed back on my bed and simply breathed, closing my eyes and allowing myself to calm down. A pang of hunger reminded me to stick my hand into my shirt, where I stuffed a loaf of bread last night. I patted around. It was gone, though. Hmm, could I have eaten it in my sleep? As in sleepwalking? Did I even have such a habit? I frowned, perplexed.

"You're still awake?" Steve's sleepy voice intruded.

"Just a nightmare." I dismissed. "I dreamed that I went on a walk. And zombies attacked me."

"Ah... So, you ran into them, then." My friend muttered and turned away, losing interest. "... It wasn't a dream, Davis." He yawned. "It was real. Get used to it." And he went back to sleep.

Needless to say, after those words, I didn't sleep at all until morning.