Categories > Movies > Shaun of the Dead > The Fourth Promise
/Chapter 2:/
Fort Lauderdale Airport lent a view to the Floridian city that was welcome in comparison to the rainy day that Shaun and Liz had left in London. The pilot, once they had landed, stated over the PA that it was a breezy eighty-five degrees outside and there was nary a cloud in sight. Shaun didn't think he'd ever seen a sky that blue.
He and Liz gathered their checked luggage and walked to the line in front of the Avis car rental agency. They rented a two-door sedan for the two weeks that they would be visiting Florida. The shuttle bus ride to the car lot was uneventful and short; and the car that greeted the couple still had that new smell that combines upholstery and something else that can't quite ever be placed.
"So where are we staying?" Liz asked once they were out on the highway heading north.
Shaun flashed her a cheeky grin and returned his attention to the lanes merging into his. "It's a surprise."
Liz made an exasperated noise and watched the car in front of them as it braked at a red light. "Just tell me you didn't book us at a cheap motel by the beach."
"I didn't."
He eased the car into the far right lane after he went through the intersection and followed the slow moving traffic past a motel that Liz had envisaged when Shaun had first suggested Fort Lauderdale. She let out an unconscious sigh of relief and turned her attention back to Shaun.
His left hand hit the turn signal.
Liz checked the street signs for any clues as to where they were going. The only two signs she saw indicated a convention center and an Art Institute at the next signal.
"I hate surprises," Liz groused. She crossed her arms and slumped back into her seat.
They were silent for the short trip to the hotel. Liz almost thought he was joking when he pulled into the Embassy Suites. Shaun parked and walked around the car to open Liz's door for her.
When she got out with Shaun's help, Liz happened to glance across the street.
And was greeted with the sight of Waxy O'Connor's Irish Pub and Eatery.
Not even the oppressive Florida heat could thaw the glare that Liz shot toward her boyfriend. "We didn't come to the States to drink," she ground out between her teeth.
He sputtered. "There's a beach!" he excused.
She followed the bellhop to the front door with their things and pretended not to hear Shaun telling her just what else there was in Fort Lauderdale.
*
In room 434 of the Art Institute of Fort Lauderdale-just a scant minute away (traffic permitting) of the Embassy Suites-one aspiring Game Art and Design student keeled over and died in the middle of a lecture on character and object design.
Despite having a slight problem with asthma and an allergy to peanuts, the student was healthy by all accounts. Classes were cancelled for the rest of the day. Life went on for everyone else.
But for how much longer?
/TBC/
Fort Lauderdale Airport lent a view to the Floridian city that was welcome in comparison to the rainy day that Shaun and Liz had left in London. The pilot, once they had landed, stated over the PA that it was a breezy eighty-five degrees outside and there was nary a cloud in sight. Shaun didn't think he'd ever seen a sky that blue.
He and Liz gathered their checked luggage and walked to the line in front of the Avis car rental agency. They rented a two-door sedan for the two weeks that they would be visiting Florida. The shuttle bus ride to the car lot was uneventful and short; and the car that greeted the couple still had that new smell that combines upholstery and something else that can't quite ever be placed.
"So where are we staying?" Liz asked once they were out on the highway heading north.
Shaun flashed her a cheeky grin and returned his attention to the lanes merging into his. "It's a surprise."
Liz made an exasperated noise and watched the car in front of them as it braked at a red light. "Just tell me you didn't book us at a cheap motel by the beach."
"I didn't."
He eased the car into the far right lane after he went through the intersection and followed the slow moving traffic past a motel that Liz had envisaged when Shaun had first suggested Fort Lauderdale. She let out an unconscious sigh of relief and turned her attention back to Shaun.
His left hand hit the turn signal.
Liz checked the street signs for any clues as to where they were going. The only two signs she saw indicated a convention center and an Art Institute at the next signal.
"I hate surprises," Liz groused. She crossed her arms and slumped back into her seat.
They were silent for the short trip to the hotel. Liz almost thought he was joking when he pulled into the Embassy Suites. Shaun parked and walked around the car to open Liz's door for her.
When she got out with Shaun's help, Liz happened to glance across the street.
And was greeted with the sight of Waxy O'Connor's Irish Pub and Eatery.
Not even the oppressive Florida heat could thaw the glare that Liz shot toward her boyfriend. "We didn't come to the States to drink," she ground out between her teeth.
He sputtered. "There's a beach!" he excused.
She followed the bellhop to the front door with their things and pretended not to hear Shaun telling her just what else there was in Fort Lauderdale.
*
In room 434 of the Art Institute of Fort Lauderdale-just a scant minute away (traffic permitting) of the Embassy Suites-one aspiring Game Art and Design student keeled over and died in the middle of a lecture on character and object design.
Despite having a slight problem with asthma and an allergy to peanuts, the student was healthy by all accounts. Classes were cancelled for the rest of the day. Life went on for everyone else.
But for how much longer?
/TBC/
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