Took a while to make, and I would like more feedback as to what you all would like to see in coming chapters, because I not only want this to be something I enjoy writing but you enjoy having a voice in.

Hunting a Dream

Everything around me was strange. There were buildings that were sparkly and bright, the windows of my apartment went cracked or broken. The floor was polished, and everything looked neat and clean. The exception was a large tarp in the corner covered in paint. Canvases and easels sat all over the place, and there were drawings that weren't scenery. People's faces smiling and laughing, the park with the fountain being blue rather than red, with dogs and people, and a painting of a school, kids and teachers here and there. A man entered in, he looked a lot like me, except he was muscular and his eyes were green, a beautiful green like fresh cut grass. "Ray; always with your head in the clouds, did you even go to work today?" He asked.

"No, it was such a nice day out today. I called my boss and asked him if I could take off." I said in return. Had I really spoken, or was I just regurgitating something else? I thought.

"Well you're lucky Mr. Rivera likes you so much. If dad hadn't gotten you that job you'd probably still be sitting in this apartment drawing."

And what's wrong with that? He thought, but apparently he'd said it out loud because the man responded, "Because you never sell your paintings, dad was shelling out money for rent…money you should have been earning for yourself. He agreed to this because you said you wanted to move out instead of going to college."

"Yeah I know…but I mean my life isn't all bad. I've got a good job, great hobbies, and a family that loves me…what more could I want?"

"A bigger TV." The other man replied.

We laughed and I looked at him, "Hey Seth…thanks for stopping by bro…dad doesn't come by anymore…not since mom died."

"Yeah," he said lowering his head, "He just couldn't bring himself to come here…I mean…this was her studio. He agreed to keep paying for it and all…but being here is something else."

"Yeah I know…did you bring the beer?"

He laughed again, "You know you're only 19 right?"

"I'll be 20 in two months!"

That birthday never came. I thought to myself.

I awoke in the safe house and looked around. Everyone else was still asleep. I sighed and mumbled to myself, "Happy Birthday…"

It would've been my birthday three days ago…I didn't remember everything, but I did remember this much. My name was Raymond Campbell, I was 20 years old and my favorite food was pizza. I had learned art from my mother. She and my father had gotten a divorce when I was 7 and she won custody of me. I loved my dad, and I would always go to his work after school to tell him about my day. He was a business consultant at some big firm, and everybody loved him. He was your go-to guy for sports and advice. My brother Seth was four years older than I was and he was a lot stronger. He was a varsity football player in high school and had been MVP two out of four years. He was the big success, "Strong-arm Seth" they called him. I was "Sunshine" because of my care-free attitude, and because one day when mom had dropped me off she had called me her little "Ray of Sunshine" because she thought she was being funny. The years of torment begged to differ. But I wasn't mad, because she always took care of me and loved me. In all the years I had known her she had never once gotten sick…maybe that's where I got it from, was her strong genes. But the day she had died had been heavy for all of us. In all the time dad was divorced he never sought out a new wife, "She was the one and only love of my life." He would say. She had been shot…three guys had broken in to steal what they could, but we didn't have anything. I had been at dad's to hang-out with Seth when it happened, they had tried to take a painting, and she had fought them for it…they killed her and left with nothing. They were obviously amateurs, because that murder had stuck with them. One of the guys turned himself in and ratted out his friends. Every day I had visited them in prison, to remind them that they had taken my mother from me. Every day I would bring them a painting and ask if they wanted it. They always said no. The day before the Infection, only one guy came to the window that day…said his friends were sick. I gave him the painting I had drawn…his family had asked me to draw him a portrait of them and I had done so. He cried on the spot and told me how sorry he was that this had happened. I told him it was ok…I was still angry that it happened…but my mother had told me, that the best thing you can do in life is forgive someone…no matter how they hurt you…I hope he had escaped, because he wasn't a bad guy…he just fell in on hard times and made a mistake.

Becca stirred and I guess she saw me crying because she came over, "Are you ok?"

"Just…remembering…" I said with a little difficulty. Words were coming to me more easily, but it was articulating them that was hard.

"Remembering, remembering what?"

"My life…my…family…"

"Really!? What did you remember?" She whispered a little loudly.

"Name is…Raymond…Raymond Campbell…worked at…Rivera's Market…graduated…local high school…don't remember name…birthday…3 day ago…20…"

"Ray…wait Campbell? Like Susie Campbell? The woman who was killed a year ago?"

I gripped my head as an image flashed into my mind. "Lucy Campbell, local artist murdered in cold-blood." It was the headline of a newspaper I had been reading. I saw the teardrops hit the page, and I flashed back into the room as my tears fell again.

"Ray…I'm so sorry…I didn't wanna bring up any bad memories…" She said as her head went down.

I reached over and patted her head as gently as I could…obviously not as gentle as I thought, because it looked like I was dribbling her head like a basketball. "Is…ok…don't worry…"

She smiled gently rubbing her no doubt aching head before making a face and blushing. "What's…wrong?"

"I…I have to pee…" She said embarrassed.

We left the safe house carefully and found the closest restroom making sure to clear it out first. She sat down and closed the door which didn't lock. She huffed in frustration. I stared at her with a blank expression and she got more exasperated, "Turn around!" She shrieked in a high pitched whisper. I did as I was told promptly, embarrassed and afraid. I waited and counted numbers in my head to drown out what was going on behind me. When I heard the zip and her belt being re-buckled I turned around. "Thirty-seven." I said calmly.

"Oh shut up!" She replied venomously.

We returned to the safe house as everyone was getting up and packing their things away. Becca grabbed her gear before stopping for a second. She handed me a sheathed machete and looked at me, "Do you know how to use this?"

I just held up my claws in an effort to dissuade her, "Kill…fine…"

"Yeah well," She shook the machete, "Kill faster…more clean. Come on big guy!"

I looked down at it, "…got two?"

After strapping the two machete's to my back since having them at my side would hamper my maneuvering I grabbed my two bags. Becca looked at me but didn't say anything. We moved out and started heading across the city to the old CEDA outpost to "borrow" their equipment. It took longer than we'd expected and getting through Infected was a problem, but in no time at all we'd cleared our way over there thanks to my ability to get them through and around obstacles they would normally have difficulty maneuvering. We reached the site and checked the area for traps of Survivors who wouldn't take to kindly to a Hunter. After thoroughly sweeping the area we arrived at the front door. We opened the door and walked inside. Becca decided the first thing we needed to do was barricade the doors and do a sweep of the building. I left them to barricading and decided to do the sweep myself. The halls were wide, and from what I could see this place still had electricity and plumbing. It must be running of a generator…or a group of them. I thought as I could hear the humming in the walls and the floor beneath me. Becca and the others probably couldn't hear like I could, so they didn't notice anything. I sniffed the air to see if I smelled any rotting or anything like that. I started trying to piece things together in my head. Two weeks after the memory I had had, the outbreak started. Two weeks after that, Red Witch had shown up with her companions. It had been a month since then, and the Infected had evolved even more since then. Those of us that were smart were few, but now it seemed that even some of the dumb ones were getting smarter. I got lost in thought and bumped into someone. "Sorry…" I said. I then realized this person could either freak out or try to kill me. I directed my eyes on them and saw that it was a Jockey. He wore a semi-ragged yellow shirt and a set of ripped jeans, as well as a lab-coat and a set of crooked glasses. His red hair was lopsided and messy, but he quickly ran his hand over it in a poor attempt to fix it. "Q-q-q-quite alright. I-I-I'm Newton. I-I work here at C-C-C-CEDA! You l-l-look just like me. I-Infected, b-but not changed."

I was honestly a little shocked, "Ray…name is Ray."

"W-well Ray, I welcome you to my home!"