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

Part Four

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 - 1812 words

/Chapter 4:/

The couple looked at the door in trepidation-unsure of the nature of the scream they'd just heard.

"Maybe... Someone's watching a scary movie," Liz speculated.

Shaun looked around the room for something to wield and found a metal coffee carafe. Liz watched him heft the object and saw a flash of something familiar in his eyes. At that moment, holding the carafe like a hammer, he looked like a soldier preparing himself for the war to come.

"Maybe I'm wrong," she amended. "Shaun?"

He looked up from the object in his hand and met her eyes. "Hm?" he intoned.

Liz took a deep breath and looked around the room. "What else is there to use?"

Shaun's eyes flitted about the hotel room and paused at the coat rack. There was an ironing board folded against the wall, and on the shelf above it was a cordless iron. He made swift tracks across the carpet and grabbed it for her.

"We'll have to take the stairs," he said.

Liz nodded behind his back. "Right," she said.


Shaun hopped down the steps two at a time and mentally thanked his girlfriend for getting him out of the house and into the gym one day every week. Two years ago, this would have been killing him-but now... He paused on the last landing to allow Liz to catch up and checked the hallway through the small rectangular window in the door.

"See anything?" Liz asked.

Shaun frowned and gently pushed the door open slightly. He listened for a moment, tightened his grip on the carafe, and shoved his way into the hall.

He hadn't heard it-or even seen it-but the receptionist girl was bent over a hapless tourist with her hands elbow-deep in his guts. Shaun gagged reflexively and shoved Liz behind him.

The receptionist looked up from her meal-her lower lip was torn in half and she was drooling blood and chunks of something Shaun didn't want to identify. Her opaque eyes wandered around his face in search of something familiar and she apparently found it. Her upper lip peeled back over her teeth and she snarled.

Behind the check-in counter, another hotel employee-this one missing a huge chunk of flesh out of his neck-shambled into view.

"Shit," Liz whispered. "How the fuck do we get out of here?"

"There're only two of them, we can handle that," Shaun whispered back.

Down the hall behind them, three hotel maids stumbled out of the supply closet and dragged themselves closer to the pair.

The second former hotel employee snarled wetly as well and slid his broken feet across the floor much faster than any zombie Shaun had ever seen. The corpse was almost running at him.

"Fuck! Liz, look out!"

He rushed the dead man and slammed the carafe on the crown of his head. His final cry was cut off abruptly as his skull caved inward with the force.

Behind Shaun, Liz was trying to bring down the receptionist. She missed her first hit and glanced off the dead girl's shoulder. Her arm-once outstretched and reaching for Liz's throat-fell limp as the nerves were severed. Liz aimed again and the receptionist lurched forward. The hit missed the crown of the zombie's skull and instead crashed down on the bridge of her nose.

Liz screamed in frustration and tightened her grip on the iron. She backhanded the zombie and finally downed her. The sharp edge of the iron severed the jugular and blood shot up from the wound. Liz yelped and edged away from the gore.

The maids were edging closer.

Shaun reached back and grabbed Liz's hand.

"Come on," he urged.


The sun dipped lowly toward the horizon at their backs as they sprinted for the front entrance to the Embassy Suites. Shaun was holding Liz's hand with a grip so tight that her fingers were turning white. She didn't mind, though. She was squeezing his hand just as hard.

The cars in the parking lot were blocked off by a dead construction crew.

"Shit," Shaun hissed.

If it was possible, Liz squeezed his hand harder. "It's not that far, is it? I mean, we can run, right?"

Shaun looked down the road-there were a few cars, most of them speeding toward AIA and the piers. "Maybe we can stop someone..."

Liz agreed, and they jogged up to the closest stop light and stood a quarter of the way into the crosswalk. They didn't have to wait long before a red SUV came barreling down the street. Letting go of Liz's hand, Shaun stepped further into the crosswalk and whistled between his fingers just as the driver pulled through the intersection. There was a tense moment where Liz wasn't sure if the car would stop or not, but thanks to anti-lock brakes, Shaun only got nudged in the hip by the bumper.

A window rolled down.

"Holy freakin' shit, man! Are you insane?!" came a shrill voice.

"We need a ride," Shaun explained.

"You need your head examined, dude! Have you seen what's been going on around here? What the fuck are you doing outside?" the driver opened the door to her SUV and hopped out. She tugged her tank top down and pulled her short ash-blonde hair up into a small and messy ponytail.

Liz stepped closer and pointed at the Embassy Suites with her gore-covered iron. "There were a few of them in the hotel-and they said on the news that it's safer near canals or on the water."

The girl-she couldn't have been any older than twenty-clucked her tongue and pointed back at her vehicle. "Well I'm heading for the school. The stairs can be blocked off and the elevators are easy enough to shut down. If you want to stick with me, get in the car."

Shaun didn't need to be told twice. "I'm Shaun, this is Liz."

"Nice to meet you," the girl deadpanned. "I'm Lynn."

Shaun hopped in the front seat and Liz slid in beside an entire arsenal of blunt objects in the back seat. Lynn, back behind the wheel, shifted out of park and into drive. Without warning, she hit the gas and shot down Southeast 17th Street at about fifty miles per hour. She ran one red light and careened around the corner into the school parking lot. The whole trip took about ten seconds, and Shaun and Liz where still clinging to the panic bars well after Lynn had yanked the gear shift into park.

"Here!" she announced cheerfully and popped her door open. Ignoring the fact that her two passengers hadn't moved an inch, Lynn opened the back door and yanked out a duffle bag and another long bag that was zippered shut.

"Get out, you two. We've got to get up on the fourth floor."

She unzipped the duffle bag and pulled out a wicked set of kitchen knives. Quickly, Liz and Shaun exited the SUV and followed their new companion into the cafeteria. As soon as they were all inside, Lynn pulled the longer bag over one shoulder and tightened it until it was snug sideways across her back. Gallantly, Shaun took the duffle bag out of her hand and slung it over his shoulder in the same fashion.

Lynn unsheathed a serrated bread knife and held the handle toward Liz. "The pointy end goes in their heads."

Liz arched a brow at the girl and took the knife. "I know that."

"We've done this before," Shaun said. Lynn gave him a butcher knife.

Lynn's grey eyes widened. "What, you've faced off hordes of zombies before?"

Neither of them answered. Shaun simply hefted the butcher knife and frowned. "Got anything with reach? I mean, I'm not too keen on getting close to these things," his voice caught in the back of his throat. "I've seen what happens to people who try the short range approach."

Liz touched his arm gently.

Lynn pointed at the bag on her back and clucked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. "Gotcha covered, chief. I've got two lacrosse sticks and a tire iron in here. I was saving them as backup, but you bring up a good argument."

She quickly unzipped the bag with a practiced ease and tossed Shaun and Liz the lacrosse sticks.

"Right, okay, enough lollygagging gang!" Lynn shouted-then racked the tire iron like a shotgun. "Let's head upstairs."

"We should block off these doors first," Liz suggested.

Sighing impatiently, Lynn reached around the other blonde woman and threw the lock. "Shaun, there's a dolly in the supply closet down the hall through that door," she pointed just across the room at the door beside one of the four vending machines in the lounge. "I'm gonna go get it, but I'll need your help moving one of the vending machines into it. I'll be back in two seconds."

With that, she rushed out of the room-the echoing slap-slap-slap of her flip-flops fading as the door slowly shut behind her.

Liz checked the parking lot through the tinted glass doors and counted the cars. At least five of them were covered in scraps of bloody clothing-including the apple-red CRV that Lynn drove. Absently, Liz felt Shaun step closer to her.

"Did any of them follow us?" he asked.

Liz searched the parking lot again for any zombies. "Shit," she swore, then thumped her index finger on the glass. "There's a load of 'em coming in from the left."

'Load' didn't even begin to describe it. There was a mass of former college students, former tourists, and former geriatrics. All shambling unevenly across the concrete dividers filled with trees and grass. The parrots native to the area suddenly spooked-flocking to the air and screeching in fear.

A door slammed open behind them and Shaun jumped nervously. "Got the dolly," Lynn announced. After some wrestling and more than a few scathing swear words, the three of them managed to wheel the Pepsi machine in front of the double doors.

Lynn slapped her hands on her jeans and gathered her things again. "Alright, up we go. I suggest we move fast. I've got some friends upstairs who are working on a way to block off the stairwell, and we've got to dismantle the elevators."

Shaun again thanked his lucky stars that he and Liz had been going to the gym regularly. Four floors didn't sound like much, but it was. The second floor was deserted-glass from the registration office door littered the tiles and Liz's trainers slid out from under her feet as she rounded the corner. Shaun managed to catch her elbow before something truly painful happened. The computer lab on the third floor was completely destroyed-most of the Mac desktops had been ripped right off the desks and looted.

Downstairs, a window broke and a voice cried out in muted pain.

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