Luke's Diary: An unlucky man in a zombie apocalypse. Days 601 - 756

Day 738: Monday 3rd September 2018

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Day 738
Monday 3rd September 2018

Sh*t! Sh*t! Sh*t! Sh*t! Sh*t! I'm well and truly f*cked! I'm back in the same small, clinical looking room that I was in, the day before I turned up in bed next to Caroline in Feemh Oak. F*CKING SH*T! Something bad is coming and there's nothing I can do about it. SH*T!!!!

I woke up in my small white, clinical room after having another weird dream, but this one was different. I dreamt about the mysterious woman in the hood. I was sat at the table that I'd been sat at in all the other dreams and she came running into the room. It was like she wasn't allowed to be there and had to be quick. She was talking to me about something but I can't remember exactly what but there was a real sense of urgency in her voice. Like what she was telling me was important. It was a bit like she wanted me to do something, but I don't know what. The one thing that I do remember her saying was "don't let them convince you it's real. It's not real." I tried to ask her questions, but she then ran off and a few moments later Rick appeared and the dream ended. Weird. God knows what it all means. Why the Hell was I dreaming about this woman? I went to bed last night thinking she was a figment of my imagination; but was she? I'm not sure? It's like she's communicating with me in my dreams as well as in the real world. I was totally confused and to be honest I'm still confused now, but fear and anger is what I'm REALLY feeling right now.

After eating my breakfast which appeared in the usual futuristic way, via a panel in the wall, the door to my room swished open to reveal the psychiatrist. At this point, and after the dream I started to question if I really had imagined all of the events over the last two years. I thought, that maybe the psychiatrist was lying to me. "Good morning Luke," he said with a smile, "I hope you enjoyed breakfast. Would you like to go for a walk?" "I had a dream last night," I firmly said. The psychiatrist frowned with confusion. "A dream?" he said, "What do you mean?" "Well you know what a dream is don't you?" I bluntly said. "Yes," said the psychiatrist. "Well I had one of those," I flippantly said. "I don't understand," said the psychiatrist, looking bemused, "Why don't we go and have a little chat?"

Feeling slightly suspicious I followed the psychiatrist out of my little room and back into the larger clinical room that I was in with him yesterday. I sat down at the table opposite him and remained cautious. "So tell me about this dream you think you had," said the psychiatrist. "I don't THINK I had a dream," I snapped, "I KNOW I had a dream. It was about that woman I told you about." "The woman in the hood?" asked the psychiatrist. "Yeah," I said, "I was in this little dingy room, and she came running in, telling me that I shouldn't let you convince me that it's real because it's not real." "I see," said the psychiatrist, "What happened then?" "She was talking to me and telling me stuff but I can't remember exactly what she was saying," I said, "She ended up running off, then Rick appeared and that's when the dream ended." "Rick Hales?" said the psychiatrist sounding further confused, "The mayor? He was in your dream?" "Yeah I've been dreaming about him every night since this whole thing started," I said, "I reckon my head isn't the only thing that's f*cked up around here. Why am I dreaming about this Rick all of the time? And why would I dream about this weird woman who you've told me doesn't exist." "Luke, she doesn't exist," said the psychiatrist. "Yeah, that's probably what you want me to believe," I snapped. "I simply want you to believe the truth," said the psychiatrist. "Yeah well your truth and my truth might be two different things," I bluntly said. "I think you might be right," said the psychiatrist, "My truth is reality. Your truth is fantasy." "F*ck off," I snapped, "That woman came to me last night and told me all this is b*llocks." "The woman who only exists in your mind and in your dreams?" said the psychiatrist. I sat back and crossed my arms like an angry teenager. "Luke, I've told you," sad the psychiatrist, "This woman is a manifestation of your irrational thoughts. For some reason part of you so desperately wants to believe this place isn't real, that you're even dreaming about it. Are you really saying that you think this town is not real because some character in a dream told you it's not real? Is that the thought process of a rational man?" I sat there contemplating what the psychiatrist had said. I was feeling really confused; part of me was thinking about my memories related to the last two years but another part of me was thinking about how it was all something that never even happened. I had no idea what to think – that was until the psychiatrist made a comment that suddenly made me realise something. "This place is not fake Luke, it's real," he said, "Never Never land is fake, Wonder Land is fake, the land of Oz is fake. This place is real. We need to help you rationalise your thoughts. Thinking that people have been infected with some sort of E-virus and are running around eating each other, when there's evidence to contrary, is irrational." My eyes widened slightly and a cold shiver shot up my back as I suddenly realised what the psychiatrist had just said. "E-virus," I calmly said. "I beg your pardon?" asked the psychiatrist. "How did you know that the virus that caused the outbreak was called the E-virus?" "Well you told me so yesterday," said the psychiatrist. "No I didn't," I confidently said, "I hardly mentioned the virus. I certainly didn't tell you what it was called. How the Hell do you know about the E-virus?" "Luke," said the psychiatrist," I think you need to calm down and . . ." "I think you need to shut the f*ck up and answer my question," I snapped, "How the Hell do you know the virus is called the E-virus." "Luke, there is no such virus," said the psychiatrist. "Then why did you say it?" I menacingly asked, taking a step forward. There was a tense pause as the psychiatrist's nervousness, and my anger and suspicion increased. "I'm right aren't I?" I said with a tense and scary tone, "This place IS fake isn't it? I knew I was right. All the little clues. Trudy's son being called Primark and in this f*cked up world she works for Primark. Mia having clones and this place she writes about clones." I gave the psychiatrist, who now looked like he was sh*tting himself a furious stare. "Where. The f*ck. Is my son?" I intimidatingly asked with a lingering and threatening stare. A tense moment passed and then all of a sudden the psychiatrist quickly produced a needle from his pocket and launched himself at me. I gasped in shock, quickly jumped back and as the psychiatrist stumbled over the chair, at the speed of light, I grabbed hold of his arm and banged it against the table causing him to drop the needle. I grabbed hold of the psychiatrist, slammed his head against the table and pinned him down with my left hand as I held the needle that he'd try to jab me with, less than a millimetre from his neck, with my left. The psychiatrist, trembled. "Please," he said, with fear in his voice, "We can talk about this." "F*ck off," I snapped, "Like I believe a word you say. Convincing me this place is real." "This place IS real," said the psychiatrist, like a quivering wreck."  "Let him go!" a voice loudly said from the other side of the room. I looked up to see that two people had entered the room. This was a surprise, although part of me wasn't surprised at all. It was Rick and Harold. "Well look who it is," I said menacingly said, "The mad professor and the town mayor." "Luke, just let him go and we can talk," said Harold. "You!?" I loudly exclaimed, "Like I'd believe a word that comes out of your mouth." "Please Luke," said Rick, "Let him go and we'll sit down and talk about this. You have my word." "Your word means sh*t to me," I snapped, "I don't even know who the f*ck you are." "OK, OK," said Rick, "But just let him go and we can try and sort this out. Please. I think you'll agree that enough people have been hurt." I paused for a moment, thought about what Rick had said, reluctantly let the psychiatrist go, threw him to the other side of the room and snapped the needle in half, rendering it useless. The psychiatrist ran over to Harold and Rick who comforted him and made sure he was OK. The psychiatrist then left the room leaving me alone with Harold and Rick.