It was a new era, an entirely new way of life on the run for everybody. It had started, I think, from a swimming pool. Something had spread in the water and it made people go crazy. I went crazy, too. At least for a while. I don't know how I got cured, but all I know is I somehow in the process betrayed my friend who now despised me and that I was still considered dangerous. Life on the run started out with my family — we were in the car, and we were raiding stores. For some reason, I remember insisting on raiding an electronics store for a pair of new headphones (lol, i know, gen zs right?). My friend, who I later found on a boat escaping an island with people going berserk, had gathered a group that was meant to go after people like me — it didn't make sense in the dream, but jumping to my own conclusion after waking up, the virus could have been latent and still spread from me despite me feeling alright. I don't know where my family went after I ended up on the boat, but it quickly became some kind of Tom and Jerry kind of situation with me trying not to be killed by my friend. This is all I remember.