It was Saturday Night. I was driving around Brookfield with good old O-Negative. With no Wipert in town, and the WB taking up Bram Stroker's basement space, we were left with no where to go. After an eventful tour of our friends' houses, we made one last stop, upon Polley's request. We went to the Tot Lot.
There was a thick fog around Brookfield that night. This fog made it hard to see the Tot Lot. Brammer said to me, "I think I see someone on the swing." I couldn't quite make it out, so I turned on the brights to my mother's Highlander.
We did indeed see someone on the swing, but the intensely illuminated beams, sharply defined by the cloudy fog, also revealed dozens of people previously unseen in the darkness. Due to our prowess in identifying zombies, Brammer and I immediately knew we were in trouble.
I quickly backed out of our parking spot, but I couldn't leave yet. I had briefly replaced the Tegan & Sara CD we were listening to with a Múm record. Realizing that my death was imminent, I threw in
If It Was You so I could listen to Sara ask me, "What's
wrong with you?" a few more times before I would only appreciate the Quins for their delicious brains.
Just as I was shifting into drive, a hand smashed through Brammer's window. "Pat, you idiot", shouted Brammer, "Drive!" I floored it, thrusting the car forward. The recent snow fall combined with Brookfield's inability to timely shovel public parking lots transformed the Tot Lot's parking lot into an ice rink. The car spun out of control and into the creek that separates the Tot Lot and Pilgrim Road.
It was clear that the car was useless. We had to proceed on foot. We decided to go across the street to Dixon Elementary. Not only would it contribute to the nostalgia-driven night, but it was also the closest lootable location.
When we got there, I was distraught to learn that the entrances had been very heavily barricaded. Luckily for me, Brammer was already a step ahead. He went to Portraits on Pilgrim, and disappared inside. "Meet me at Dixon's North entrance," he instructed. Just as I got there, Brammer came out with a couple of baseball bats and a can of spraypaint. "Free running," he explained. "You should really think about leveling up soon, Pat."
With bats in hands, Brammer and I made our way to the Brookfield Police Department. We smashed a few zombies in the head, I got Free Running, and Brammer got Body Building. Imagine his guns before, and now increase those by twenty percent. It's sick.
We're currently in the Police Department, looking for guns and keeping up the barricade. If you care to join us, meet us at Brookfield Square. We'll be moving out tomorrow.
True story.
