Chapter Two

BubbleGun

-Be's POV-

“We were dropped onto the ground. Hard.

Of course I landed on my face, in the dirt. Rosalie landed on her back, on me. Knocking the wind out of me and smashing me deeper into the ground.

Whatever had just happened to us, sucked!

I felt a large hard mass digging into my chest.

“Ouww.” I groaned into the ground. I then lifted my head up and spit out some dirt.

I saw dirt, I tasted dirt. Dirt. Dirt. Dirt. Fucking Dirt.

“Sorry.” Rosalie grumbled, rolling off of me and onto the ground with a small thud. I watched her look around, confused. “Wait.”

“Huh?” I asked, rolling onto my back and attempting to wipe the dirt off of my face. Really I was just making it worse since my hands were dirty too.

“Why am I sorry?” Rosalie asked herself, sounding confused.

“You fell on me, you asshole.” I snapped, kicking her in the thigh. She was so inconsiderate.

“OW.” Rosalie kicked me back and we ended up having a small kick fight that ended a minute later. “I meant why am I sorry I landed on you?”

“Because you landed on me you cunt!” I shouted, kicking her in the side.

She then kicked me in the chin with her bare, smelly foot.

“I meant why am I sorry I landed on you other than because I landed on you!’ Rosalie demanded.

My mind was still reeling violently and I was already suffering from some supreme disorientation- so her question was completely lost on me. It made absolutely no fucking sense whatsoever.

“Huh?” I asked.

“How did I land on you?”

“Huh!?” I repeated. Rolling off the large rock I felt pressing into my chest. I continued to roll until I felt wet grass against my skin.

“I mean, I don’t know what I mean.” Rosalie muttered sadly, looking at what I had rolled off of. I followed her line of vision and saw that my lime green backpack was laying, pressed into the dirt. That was the rock I had felt digging into my sternum. She awkwardly reached for it and tossed it to me. If I hadn’t been so confounded by the situation I probably woulda caught it. However-…

“No, no.” I was interrupted by the backpack smacking me in the face. I refused to let it distract me and put it on the ground between us and continued. “I know what you mean.” Off Rosalie’s expression I squinted. “You know what I mean?”

“I think so.” Rosalie answered slowly.

“How the hell did we get here.” We asked simultaneously.

Rosalie sat up and looked around.

We were in the woods- somewhere. But how did we get there? And why did I feel something hard and uncomfortably in my butt crack?

I sat up too and shifted awkwardly, probably making some weird face. Rosalie watched me and quirked an eyebrow.

“What are you doing?” Rosalie asked looking grossed out.

“There’s something in my butt.” I answered and Rosalie snorted.

“Then pull it out.”

“I’m working on it.” I snapped, reaching under myself and pulling a cracked, metal thingy. It took me a minute to identify it as smashed remote control. We both stared at it blankly.

I had given birth to a shiny damaged remote control. In reality I had just rolled over and sat onto it “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” I asked hesitantly.

“How did that fit in your butt?” Rosalie asked.

“It wasn’t in my anus; it was just pushing against my crack.” I clarified, “And no I wasn’t thinking that.”

“Then no.”

I opened her mouth to say something but stopped when I saw a large man in a cop uniform behind Rosalie, he was pointing a shot gun us both.

“Say something.” He stated in a very deep, hard-hitting voice.

“Holy mother Mary of subway,” I said with utmost seriousness.

Rosalie made a face and looked behind her only to scream loudly and scramble behind me. Chanting. “Don’t shoot us, Don’t shoot us, Don’t shoot us.”

She’s so brave…

The man lowered his shotgun and I got a full on view of his face.

Holey Crapola…

Kenneth, Kenneth as is Dawn of the Dead Mc. Badass cop Kenneth.

He nodded at us, as though approving of something and began to walk off.

I was positive it wasn’t possible. We could be- maybe we were getting punk’d? Actually- no, being sucked into a different dimension was definitely more likely than Ashton Kutcher knowing who I was.

So, I decided to take that leap of faith. If this had really happened, and wasn’t some kind of drug induced hallucination then I was where Zombies were… therefore I wanted to be where Kenneth was.

“HEY!” I called, getting up. “Wait, wait wait!” I hollered, jogging after him and pulling Rosalie with me. Rosalie grabbed the backpack and put it over her shoulder. “We’re coming with you!”

“Don’t yell.” He ordered firmly and I stopped in my tracks, Rosalie slammed into my back and I could practically hear her scowl. I ignored it and nodded at the large intimidating man before us. I would rather be following hi around like a obedient little puppy than have to wander around all alone without a big black man with a gun in a world full of zombies,

“Quiet as a mouse.” I vowed.

“Two mice.” Rosalie chimed in.

“Two def mice.” I added.

“Two def mute mice.” Rosalie assured.

“Always have to show me up don’t you?” I asked as we trailed behind Kenneth who had already started walking off again. Not paying any attention to the bewildered teenagers behind him.

“So we’re--” I began.

“Dreaming.” Rosalie finished.

“Oh, I was actually thinking-” I began, but Rosalie was not having it.

“Impossible.” She told me flatly.

“Alright then, so if it is a dream?” I questioned.

She seemed to think about it for a minute. Then nodded to herself. “We just go with it, we’re bound to wake up sooner or later.”

“Yea. Just a dream, lets go with it.” I agreed

“Totally.” Rosalie added. “This is your fault!” She demanded, smacking my arm. “I could be dreaming about Vin Diesel right now!”

“Hey, since when do I control what you dream?” I asked defiantly.

“You don’t control them, its just your fault.” She huffed. “If you hadn’t gotten me addicted to these damn zombie movies then-”

“Excuse me, ‘me’ get ‘you’ addicted?” I said. “Wasn’t your idea to watch this particular movie- lets see, about TWENTY times now?” I whispered harshly at her.

“Its not about who’s fault it is.” Rosalie mumbled.

“It was a minute ago when it was my fault.” I replied.

She remained silent.

“Oh, so its my fault, and I’m getting the silent treatment… Its because I’m black isn’t it!?”

“You’re not black I, I am.” Rosalie said calmly.

“Oh, then.. Its because I’m white isn’t it?”

A moment of silence and we both shared a uncertain look.

“I am black right.” Rosalie asked slowly.

“More of a mocha… Am I really white?” I asked in return.

“Yes… milky.”

Another moment of silence.

“Do you feel high?” We asked in unison.

“Yea.” We answered at the same time.

“Maybe we are high.” Rosalie said seriously.

“I don’t remember--”

“We wouldn’t if we were high.”

“Oh.” I said. She had a point there.

“Yea.” Rosalie agreed. “Ana.” She whispered to me as Kenneth approached a car in the distance.

Dream or drug induced hallucination. I might as well have fun. Emboldened by a slight wave of euphoria--

“Wake up bitch!” I shouted at the car and broke into a grin.

“Shut up!” Kenneth boomed. I fell silent, I obeyed.

Rosalie began to giggle hysterically.

“You’re afraid of the big black man.” She teased.

“I am a big black man.” I said.

Rosalie stopped laughing and stared at me blankly.

“What did you just say?” She asked.

“Nothing.” I replied.

The drugged feeling was actually very strong now.

“Say something.” We heard Kenneth tell Ana.

“Sa--” Rosalie began but was she laughing too hard. “Sa--Sa--yy.”

Rosalie’s hysterical-ness drove me over the edge, I snorted loudly.

“Say, I’m Rick James Bitch.” Rosalie whispered to me, in the most perfect Rick James impersonation ever. She truly was the master of the Dave Chappell, Charlie Murphy, Rick James thing.

“Ro, Ro…” I was trying to get her attention. I was trying to warn her Kenneth was glaring at us again.

“Your boat, gently down the stream.” She sang.

“Don’t rock the boat.” I stated. Forgetting about the danger we were in.

“You’ll tip the boat over.” Rosalie continued to sing.

“Don’t rock the boat baby.” I was dancing the salsa, or as close to it as I could get.

After a few moments of laughter we both began to calm down. When we were finally seemingly sober once more I noticed Kenneth and Ana were staring at us like they were a couple of crack heads.

Maybe we were… oh if my brother had crack then I was so going to beat the shit out of him later…

“Are you finished yet?” Kenneth asked seriously and Rosalie nodded, he started walking off again and I chuckled. He paused and looked back at us. Damn, he was intimidating.

“Sorry.” I apologized and forced my smile away.

We trailed behind Kenneth and Ana, jabbering away quietly about the circumstances.

“It’s almost like a drunk feeling.” Rosalie contemplated.

“It’s a pretty good high.” I commented. I was going to say something else, but I trailed off. The haze was too overwhelming.

We were floating about in a cloud of carelessness, assuming whatever it was happening to us wasn’t real. Therefore what we did didn’t matter. Hell, we could snort cocaine off of a dead hooker’s ass if we wanted. Not that I would do that, considering I don’t really desire to put my nose near anyone’s chocolate starfish any time soon.

“I want a Klondike bar.” Rosalie whined suddenly. “and… I want a Klondike bar.”

“What would you do for a Klondike bar?” I asked.

“Nothing, I don’t want one anymore.” She shrugged.

I felt something cold and soft squish between my toes. I stopped walking, I knew what I just stepped in and it pissed me off. I looked down, brown fecal matter gooped around my bare foot.

“Hah!!” Rosalie pointed at my head.

“Mother Mary of fuck stick.” I cursed.

“Hah!” She repeated pointing at my foot now,

I smacked her arm and kicked a bit of poo at her. I am officially a shit kicker.

“What is taking you two so long?” Kenneth demanded.

“She stepped in bear shit.” Rosalie laughed.

“Keep moving.” He replied, without sympathy.

I obediently pulled my foot from the crap pie and hopped on one leg over to a fallen tree near by. I tried my hardest to scrape off most of the poo but the chunks between my toes refused to do anything but squish around.

“This sucks, this fucking, sucks.” I mumbled.

After wiping as much shit as I could on the dead tree I passed by Rosalie who was still laughing at my expense.

“Twat.” I murmured, catching up with Ana and Ken.

“Stop talking.” Kenneth warned us as now that we had reached the end of the forest. Then I saw that before us lay a small paved road.

Rosalie trotted past me and stared at Ana in fascination.

I wanted to nag her, to say ‘stop it, you’re creeping her out’! But I was afraid of the large black man with a shotgun so I kept my mouth shut. A few minutes passed and Rosalie made her buzzed little way back to me.

“Very realistic dream.” She whispered.

“Yea, very.” I said as we entered a tunnel. “Hey this feels kinda familiar.” I commented looking around.

Rosalie was twirling about, her arms held out when I realized where we were. Aww dildo!

“Get down!” I screeched and tackled Rosalie just as gunshots were fired. Rosalie hit the rough pavement with me on top of her. Not before something hot and sharp bit my shoulder.

I remember I didn’t yell. I didn’t make a sound. It hurt too much to make noise. I was afraid that if I cried out the pain would get worse.

Nothing is more sobering than getting shot.

I just looked down at the back of Rosalie’s head, she was grumbling something about ‘that was trippy‘. up as she was about to get up, but me- still in my stupor unwittingly pushed Rosalie’s face into the cement and watched the scene unfold.

My thoughts were relatively simple.

Ouch! Gun! Rosalie shot, bad!

“Put the gun down, come on man- he’s a cop.” Michael told Andre.

Rosalie, aware of the fact she couldn’t breathe so well with me on top of her rolled over. So I was laying with my back on the ground and Rosalie had her back on my stomach, constricting my breathing to a short wheeze.

The pain in my shoulder and the burning in my lungs screamed at me.

Not a dream! Not a dream!

“GeOff!” I gasped, my hands smacking at Rosalie.

“SHHH!” The shush was more of a scream. “He has a gun!”

“YaiknoIgothot!” I breathed. It was kind of difficult to talk with an extra one hundred and thirty or so pounds pressing down on my sternum.

“Be’, now is not the time to talk about how guns make you hot!”

“Shot-” I forced out. “Nahot”

“Exactly, I don’t want you to get shot so shut up!” She hissed, elbowing me in the side.

Bitch just elbowed me! I was in so much physical pain at that point my eyes crossed.

Andre looked at Rosalie looking at him and made a face, must have been our current situation. Me slapping weakly at my friend while she crushed the life out of me.

Kenneth was confused for a second by Andre’s face, and then he made a face and looked back to where Rosalie and I were on the ground, I began saying something. I actually don’t even remember what it was, all I recall is Rosalie slapping her hand over my mouth.

It must have been something pretty harsh, directed at everyone because Kenneth scowled.

“Get off her.” Kenneth said and I nodded emphatically.

“I don’t want her to get shot.” Rosalie said meekly, and began to pet my forehead.

I AM ALREADY SHOT YOU SHREW! My mind screamed at her, only my body didn’t have energy and all I could do physically was emit a annoyed wheeze like sigh.

Evidently she was still under the influence of whatever sanity altering chemical in our brain which was released upon entering a different dimension.

“Nobody’ll shoot her, now get up.” Kenneth told her, turning back to the four people outside of the tunnel and lowering his gun.

ALREADY SHOT!

“Did you hear that, Its safe.” Rosalie whispered placidly and got off of me.

Not to self, never give drugs to Rosalie, because she becomes a DAFT WANKER! Who doesn’t notice her friend is SHOT!

Finally I was able to breath. When I got up I hissed at the sharp pain in my shoulder, moving any kind of arm muscle was not a good thing.

I got up followed Rosalie who followed Ana who followed Kenneth.

Distractedly I looked at my shoulder. A rip through the sleeve of my Pearl Jam t-shirt (Shut up, Pearl Jam is awesome.) and a deep scratch alerted me to the fact the bullet had only grazed me. Grazed me deep, but still only grazed me.

What was worse was that absolutely no one was showing any concern for my well being, they hadn’t even noticed me bleeding.

They just kept on walking.

Jerks.

“You don’t want to go that way.” Michael told Kenneth.

“What’s that way?” Ana asked, but she was ignored.

Not unlike my wound.

“Officer, Sir? You do not want to go that way.” Michael tried again.

“What’s that way?” Ana asked a little more impatiently.

Michael sighed. “Its pretty bad.”

Kind of like the bullet wound on my shoulder?

“Its hell.” Andre stated, holding Luda’s hand.

“What about Fort Pastor.” Kenneth asked.

“Maybe, if you have wings. The road’s thick with those mother fuckers that way.” Andre told them.

“How do you know?” Kenneth asked suspiciously.

“Why just tried.” Andre retorted.

“Back when there was eight of us.” Michael said with a distant sounding sadness. “We’re going to the mall.”

It was absolutely absurd… five people just died, thousands more have been dying and getting up and eating people, and by the way we’re going to foot locker.

“I say we go with them.” Rosalie said suddenly, I gave her a look. Rosalie pinched me. She pinched the girl who just got shot! Which just lit my short fuse.

“I got shot!” I screeched, backhanding her shoulder. “I got shot with a bullet!”

Rosalie blinked.

I pointed at Andre rigidly. “You shot me!”

He looked remorseful, shocked.

“I-”

“Don’t! Shot! OUCH!” I yelled, pausing for a minute and then adding. “PAIN!”

“I like your crowbar.” I heard Rosalie say to Michael.

I glared at her.