Categories > Movies > Shaun of the Dead > The Fourth Promise

Part Three

by quicksilvermad 0 reviews

Shaun and Liz finally go on that holiday that he promised her. It doesn't go smoothly. Not at all. And he still hasn't switched from beer to red wine. Rated M for violence and language.

Category: Shaun of the Dead - Rating: R - Genres: Horror, Romance - Warnings: [V] - Published: 2006-08-21 - Updated: 2006-08-22 - 1556 words

/Chapter 3:/
/ /
There was, indeed, a beach. A beach that was clotted with hundreds of other tourists and college students. At least some of the tourists had whiter skin than both Shaun and Liz.

By noon, five people had been carried off the beach after "passing out" from heat exhaustion.

At the same time, Shaun and Liz were walking down Las Olas in search of a decent restaurant to eat lunch at. Liz chose a relatively quiet Italian restaurant that was far enough away from the beach that the gaggle of tourists was thinned.

"Enjoying yourself?" Liz asked once the pair of them had set into their meals. Shaun slurped a fettuccini noodle and chewed for a moment before he let himself answer her.

"Yeah. Got my first sunburn today," he smiled to let her know that it wasn't a bad thing. "You?"

"Well, I got burnt too," she shrugged and nibbled on the end of a breadstick.

Shaun opened his mouth to continue the conversation when someone shrieked outside. Someone else called out to dial 911 and a crowd began to gather.

"He's DEAD!"

"What the hell?!"

"Was he sick?"

"Something bit him yesterday-he told me he just had a headache. He just had a headache!"

"Ma'am, maybe you should sit down..."

"Just a headache..."

Shaun and Liz froze and looked each other in the eye.

"You wanna go back to the hotel?" Shaun asked. Suddenly, he didn't feel so hungry.

Liz seemed to agree with him. She dropped her fork and took a large swig of her beer. Shaun motioned for the check and he paid in cash.

"This is the same thing," Liz said once they were closer to A1A. "Isn't it?"

Shaun fished the keys to their rental car out of his shorts and fumbled with the buttons for a moment. "I'm hoping it isn't," he said.


Shaun turned on the TV in their hotel room as soon as he could reach the remote. He flipped around to find a news station and found CNN first. By the looks of it, the anchorman was on the verge of losing his mind.

"Reports are coming in from San Diego to Albany with cases that are alarmingly similar..."

"Oh /fuck/!"

Shaun groaned into both hands and accidentally changed the channel when his forehead hit the buttons on the remote he still held. Liz, who hopped in the shower to get rid of the sticky-sunscreen-sand feel on her skin, yelled out over the din of hot water.

"What is it?!"

"It is the same thing!" he shouted back.

The water ran for a few more seconds and then Liz slammed it off and ran out of the bathroom in her towel. "What do we do? Are they saying anything about evacuations, shelters...?"

"Babe, I don't think they know that it's the same thing."

Liz gawked. "How could they not?"

"It's America," Shaun said-as if that explained his entire thought process.

On the television, a local news anchor was in an absolute panic. "Residents of Broward and Dade Counties have been advised to remain in their homes until further notice from the authorities as the outbreak continues to spread. Those who have succumbed to the virus have been transported to a secure medical facility. We have recently received a copy of a medical report completed this afternoon and it is now confirmed. The disease that is spreading across the country is the same that broke out across London last year."

He swallowed hard and loosened his tie-upsetting the microphone pinned to it at the same time.

"Lock your doors, and board up your windows. If you aren't safe at your current location, seek shelter immediately..." /the anchor quit reading the teleprompter and aimed a hard look at the camera lens. "If you're confronted by a recently deceased friend, loved one, or even stranger, don't think twice about it. Aim for the head with a heavy object."/

Off camera, the producer began hissing at him. Shaun clicked the power button on the remote and the TV winked off.

"Fuck," he repeated.

Liz adjusted her towel and began rummaging through her suitcase for something to wear. "We aren't leaving this hotel. Go take a shower-we'll grab some food downstairs and hole up back here until we hear something different on the news."

Shaun scrubbed a hand across his goatee and wondered if this meant they had to go on holiday again.


One floor up, a perfectly healthy beach bum from Virginia Beach collapsed in the middle of his suite. The door he left open just after entering was cracked just enough to give a passerby a view of his flip-flop wearing, leathery foot. He was as dead as a doornail-but only for a few more hours. The virus he'd contracted after drinking from the wrong water bottle would soon take over his entire central nervous system and reanimate his body.

The Embassy Suites wasn't safe for much longer.


Liz and Shaun both waited outside the kitchen with wet hair and antsy nerves. Shaun was pacing in a tight circle and tugging at the hair on his chin, and Liz was staunchly remaining in one set posture-her back ramrod straight, her arms crossed, and her feet firmly planted at shoulder width.

"I just don't feel that safe here."

"Oh, come on, Shaun. Our room has one of those electronic lock thingies. No one could possibly get to us in there."

He stopped pacing. "But what about on our way back to the room? You don't think someone might have died in the hallway? Jesus, we don't even have any blunt objects!"

Liz blinked.

Shaun sighed harshly and looked briefly at the kitchen doors. "God. How long does it take to make six cold sandwiches?"

Liz raised one eyebrow and looked behind her at all the other people that were pacing and waiting for food to have in case this emergency lasted longer than one meal would last.

"Babe, how 'bout I wait in line for our order and you go grab us..." she paused, thinking quickly for anything they might need if things went horribly wrong in a short span of time.

Shaun sighed harshly. "I'll get some ice or something."


He woke up ravenous. Not that he could quite remember what hunger felt like as a human being, but this was the kind of hunger that absolutely needed to be sated-lest something awful happen to his body. Survival was the first thing on his primitive mind. Missing a flip-flop, he crawled off the floor and stood on unsteady legs to shuffle along in the general direction of the door.

It was a painful, and short, journey that caused involuntary moans to well up from his bruised throat. They were quiet at first, but with each step down the hallway they gained in volume.

So very hungry...

A shift in the air conditioning brought a scent to his nostrils. A heavenly odor that clouded his brain with such a desire to consume this scent that he forgot the pain and reached an arm out feel along the wall. The smell grew stronger with each shambling step and he growled quietly.

Waiting by the elevator was a lovely young woman visiting Fort Lauderdale from Dallas with her sister. She was one of those patient types that stood against the wall and hummed pleasantly while she waited. You know, the annoying type. The kind that says "hi" to you while you both stand in the elevator and you definitely don't want to engage in a conversation and it's written all over your face but she doesn't notice.

He shuffled closer and moaned a bit louder in his excitement, causing the woman to glance back in his direction. She looked confused for a moment, taking in his appearance with a mark of curiosity. Then the news broadcasts rant rampant through her head and recognition sparked in her eyes.

Unfortunately, she didn't recognize what he was until she was unable to run away from his hungry grasp. He tore into her exposed shoulder with his mouth and she yelped more in shock than pain.


One floor below, Shaun flicked through news channels for more information. Dade County was a disaster area-marked with a swath of dark red below the lighter red of Fort Lauderdale. The anchor man mentioned something about safe zones in the city-near bridges or canals. Just as Liz keyed her way into the room, Shaun dove for the map they'd bought at the airport.

"Liz, we need to get to a safer place."

She groaned and dropped the plastic bags with their sandwiches. "Shaun, we agreed that we wouldn't leave this hotel!"

Shaun unfolded the map onto the bed and searched for the nearest canal and bridge. "I don't feel safe here! I don't understand how you can feel safe here!" he shouted.

"Where would we go?" Liz asked, rounding the bed to get him to look at her. "The pub across the street?"

Shaun jabbed a finger at the map-pointing to the Art Institute. "Here. It's just down the street. If we drive, we can make it in at least one full minute."

Liz ran a hand across her face. "Shaun," she started to say something further but was interrupted by the sound of someone screaming down the hallway.

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