He'd had so many dreams, since Z day. Nightmares of course, many of them. Too many of them. Some of them came from playing games too long, with Ed. How the hell could he still beat Shaun now he was a zombie, for crying out loud?

Because Shaun had gone soft. Domestic bliss and all that. Bathroom smelled all flowery.

He still couldn't use the shower with the curtain pulled closed.

He played Commando with Ed and now they were bringing out a mod where you got to shoot zombies in the ruins of Berlin. Would that be in poor taste to have Ed play a first person shooter against zombies? In his dreams the two of them stood back to back, in Berlin, brave British Tommies, battling hoards of zombie Nazis. And that felt good. Until their faces all changed to Ed's face.

He wouldn't buy the zombie mod.

Zombie this and zombie that. Fucking zombie pride marches next.

Shaun kept an eye on the scientific journals now. The newsagent - under new management - had never had orders for those before. They'd find a cure for the surviving zombies the scientists said. One day.

Until then, Ed kept on beating him at Commando and in Shaun's dreams they stood back to back in Berlin.

End


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