It seems as though people had made their own little township in the middle of the ruins of Tacoma, complete with shops and even what appeared to be a bar with homemade beer. We walked through the town until I heard a faint, malicious whisper “Hey man, you want some weed? Grew it myself.” I walked up to him “I don’t exactly have money.” I stated, pondering on the stupidity of my statement. “I’m not looking for money, I’m looking for services.” “Woah I don’t swing that way pal, I don’t care how long I’ve gone without weed.” “No asshole, I want transport through seattle and you and your friend there look rather violent, everyone around here is pacifistic it seems.” He stated calmly. I paused for a second, “How much weed we talking here?” I finally asked warily, I eyed him suspiciously as he took a ziploc baggie out, it was full to the brim, the bag was the size of my head. “Jesus, this would last us years!”
“What do you think Chris?” “That’s an awful lot of weed, it’d make livin easier. Why does he need us though?” “Supposedly Seattle is filled with zombies, no one survived the outbreak.” “Bullshit I survived.” “naww I mean the actual city, you lived in a suburb of Seattle.” “Sounds dangerous.” “Sounds funs, what’s wrong, don’t think you’re up to it?” I teased “Of course I am. We’ll do it.” Chris finally said to the man. We left that little township with the man after we had bought some essential supplies, a few homemade brews, and a few handgrenades some crazy bastard just handed to us. We walked toward Seattle; Seattle was always my favorite part of living in Washington, The true capital of Washington, the origin of grunge and a hotspot for new music. Kinda like new York without the corruption.
“So what’s your name?” “Names aren’t important, call me blotter for now.” “Blotter?” I asked “long story” “oh, I’ll ask later.” I took a long look at the man, sized him up, he looked weird. Sunken eyes and an overgrown beard, he wore an old dusty hat to keep the sun out of his eyes. He looked at me uneasily “You aren’t going to just kill me and take my weed are you?” I was taken aback by his question “not unless you give me dirt weed when this is all over.” I replied jokingly, hoping he’d be put at ease. “I guess life is full of surprises.” he said cynically “I try not to make this whole ‘zombie apocalypse’ harder than it has to be on anyone else.” The man’s spirit clearly had been close to broken one too many times, I guess I can say I relate.
Chris looked over at the man “So what’s your weapon of choice?” “Excuse me?” The man asked, clearly taken aback by it “Ya know, I use a katana, and Charlie here is quite partial to his old bass, what about you?” He showed a sign of recognition now; he reached into his shabby coat and pulled out a sharp knife about the length of his arm, longer than a dagger but shorter than a sword. “Can I see it?” Chris asked after staring at it a while “um sure, just be careful.” He handed him the thing, Chris snatched it greedily “does it have a name?” “Jessicka.” “An ex I take it?” “Lucky guess.” Chris ran his finger along the blade carefully “Sharp, nice point, great handle, I take it she broke your heart as well.” “She cut as deep as that deadly blade will” He said with a sort of playful cynicism.
My mind was sinking with the setting sun, as we walked I got an idea. “What do ya say we test out that weed ya got?” As they turned around I pull out my old pipe, worn and blood stained, used to say OH THE PLACES YOU’LL GO on the side. Blotter pinched off a particularly dank nug and put it in the bowl. I lit it up and breathed it deep, my eyes closed as I remembered the last time I had smoked, a single tear ran down my cheek. Chris took it from my hands as I stood with my eyes closed; I thought about the girl who had given me that pipe, my smoky exhale was still very much a sigh. When I finally opened my eyes the world was bright and welcoming, everything was wonderful and I could see our new guest inhaling deep. “let’s go, those zombies aren’t going to kill themselves.” I said brightly when we finished the bowl.
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