Writer: Timothy Dumont Jr.
Co-writer: Crystal Ferguson

Monday, April 12, 2010

Entry 97: P.B. -John-

So he thinks that he can tell us what to do, does he? He's got another thing coming. There's no way I'm going to be told what to do by him. I'd leave before I ever would be controlled by Ben.

The hospital wasn't far so I had walked, cursing Ben in my head for the whole time. We had helped him more than enough, and he gets mad just because a couple of zombies tore up his living room and made life difficult. No appreciation for our help. Well, screw him.

"Hey, I'm looking for a James Banks. Could you point me to his room?" The nurse behind the counter began looking at her files.

"I'm sorry, James Banks has been released from our care." She smiled at me sweetly.

"What?!", I must have yelled because I could tell she was visibly frightened. That didn't stop me from continuing though, "He's very dangerous, you need to tell me where he is. Who signed him out?"

"Umm, he did.", she points behind me.

He stood about five feet behind, looking at me with a smug smile on his face. Something about him caught me as off. He looked like any other person in his thirties, except his eyes told a different story. They had an ageless quality, like I was looking in the face of someone who was around for a long time.

His arms spread out, palms toward me, "Now isn't this a coincidence."

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