Disclaimer: I do not own the 2004 film Dawn of the Dead and this story has no official ties with the film; this is a work of fan fiction. I do not receive any payment or any other type of gain from this fan fiction. All rights belong to Strike Entertainment and New Amsterdam Entertainment, as well as Universal Pictures.
Author's note at the end!
Chapter Twenty-One
Sea water lapped softly at the boat, causing it to continuously rock back and forth slowly. The air was thick with humidity with the sun resting in the clear sky. Angela laid across the white leather seats and stared aimlessly into the sky, tongue like sandpaper when she licked her dry lips.
After they set sail from the dock, Angela began complaining about the searing pain in her legs. Upon closer inspection by Ana, it was revealed that she had first and second degree burns on her legs from the truck explosion. With only limited medical supplies on the boat, there was not much Ana could do for her and after two days, an infection began spreading through Angela's legs. Unable to move her legs much, she was stuck on the seats, relying on CJ to help her if she wanted to get around the boat.
Along with the infection came many side effects, Angela suffering from a fever and chills, as well as feeling lethargic. Delusions plagued her at night, warping her dreams into nightmares, rotting, white-eyed monsters tearing her limb from limb. She hadn't had a decent night sleep, as did no one else on the boat, since her screams always woke everyone up.
Five days the group had been on the boat and hope was dwindling fast.
On the first day, emotions were high since everyone thought they had finally made it to safety. Worry began settling in on the second day when they realised how little food and clean water they had, having abandoned everything in the rush to make it to the buses. Fear took over on the third day when they recognised they had drifted into the middle of the ocean with no land in sight, though everyone tried to show confidence on the outside, especially Michael.
Moral had been boosted yesterday though when Ana saw something in the distance. Deciding to investigate, Kenneth steered the boat towards to the floating object, which turned out to be an abandoned fishing boat. No one among the group thought about why no one was on the small boat; everyone was eager to see if the vessel possessed any water or supplies. Pulling up next to it, Michael and CJ boarded, finding dried blood and an ice box. Instead of food and water like everyone was hoping, the upper torso of a man was inside, arms cut off and innards spilling out. Maggots feasted at the frozen flesh when it opened its white eyes, yellow teeth snapping and snarling at the group. Kenneth shot it in the head, the group leaving the boat with hopes at an all-time low.
With Nicole's absence hitting Terry hard, he had kept himself busy with a camcorder he had found on the first day, documenting the groups journey. It wasn't a pleasant moment when the group found Steve's homemade porn when they were looking back on the footage. Even though most of the group found Terry recording every single moment annoying, Angela encouraged him, telling him he could turn it into a movie once the outbreak was over and they'd all be millionaires; he liked that idea.
CJ suddenly appeared by Angela's side, putting a bottle to her lips and raised her head slightly with his other hand.
"Here," he murmured, "you need to keep drinking."
Angela took small gulps, trying to be sparring. When he took the bottle away, she sighed with relief, her dry lips now moistened again.
"Thanks," she whispered, "how much we got left?"
CJ averted his eyes to the floor, shaking his head. Closing her eyes, Angela exhaled loudly through her nose before her face suddenly cringed in pain. Chips, who stayed with them on the boat also, whined and nuzzled into her stomach, sensing the woman's discomfort.
"What is it?" CJ asked, brushing her hair away from her slicked forehead, feeling she was burning up again.
"My leg..." she said, voice breaking when a hot flash of pain spiked through her right leg.
"I'll get some pills," he reassured her, grabbing the first aid kit from under the seats.
Trying to breathe through the pain, Angela kept her eyes closed and focused on her surroundings instead of her legs. Hearing the clicks of the first aid box being opened, she then listened to CJ rummage through the supplies, the plastic pain relief bottle top popping open.
"Fuck..." he suddenly whispered.
Angela frowned, hearing the worry in his voice. "CJ?"
"Fuck!" he repeated louder, Angela opening her eyes to see him throwing the bottle on the floor in anger.
"What's wrong?"
"There's no more pills!" he exclaimed, his hard eyes glaring at the empty bottle before looking over to Ana. "Did you know this?"
The blonde, who sat with Michael at the front of the boat, kept her stare out towards the ocean. "She took the last ones this morning."
"And you didn't think to tell anyone?" CJ questioned accusingly.
"And do what?" Ana said, finally turning her gaze to him, "it's not like we can get some more from anywhere else."
Gritting his teeth in anger, his thumb and finger pinched the bridge of his nose. "Well, what are we supposed to do now, doc?"
"I don't know!" Ana snapped, voice raising.
"CJ," Angela suddenly sighed, attempting to sit up to stop the argument.
The boat fell silent, CJ and Ana glaring at each other before he returned to Angela's side, pushing her back down so she was lying flat again. Snatching the water bottle from the floor, he began feeding it to Angela again, this time forcing her to take bigger gulps. Michael watched when the bottle became half empty.
"Hasn't she had enough," he said, more of a statement than a question.
Taking the bottle away, CJ slowly looked at the tired man, anger hinted in his expression. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Michael sighed, shaking his head. "Look, CJ, we're already low on water and it's not going to help if you keep wasting-"
"Wasting?" CJ snarled, the water in the bottle swirling, his hands shaking. "Angela's sick. We've already ran out of the fucking pills, so she needs to keep hydrated."
"Yeah, well, so do we," Michael replied.
"What?"
"Angela's not the only one suffering on this boat. We're all in the same position here."
"You're not the one with a fucking infection and goddamn fever!"
"But we're all thirsty and with little water-"
"Little water? Look around you, we're surrounded by water for fucking miles!" CJ shouted humorously, his arms gesturing to the never ended blue sea around them. "And who's bright idea was this again?"
"You know what I mean," Michael muttered.
"No, I don't know what you mean because to me, it sounds like you would rather Angela die just to save some water!" CJ snapped.
"Oh, for God's sake!" Ana yelled, exasperatedly throwing her hands up in the air.
"No one is saying that," Michael said, a hand coming up to rub over his forehead.
"Guys..." Terry sighed from the back corner of the boat.
"Really, 'cause it sure fucking does to me!"
Covering her ears from the growing angry voices, Angela squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the arguing. The pounding in her head sent her dizzy and the pain in her legs flared up again, tears forming in the corner of her eyes.
"EVERYBODY, STOP!"
Stunned by Kenneth's booming voice, the arguing ceased and everyone looked over at the burly man. Hands firmly on the steering wheel, he scolded the group with a deep scowl, lips raised over his teeth.
"Knock it off."
When he turned back to steering, shame fell thick over the boat, realising how they had been acting in such a desperate time. Casting his eyes down, CJ sat down next to Angela, putting her head in his lap and running a soothing hand along her arm. Ana shook her head, moving away to sit on the other side of the boat alone. Michael sighed, looking around at everyone.
"Sorry," he said, sitting back down, glancing at the sick woman, "I'm sorry, Angela."
Angela could only nod her head silently, too exhausted to say anything. Chips circled for a moment before crawling underneath the seats she laid on, licking her hand when she stroked him softly.
For the next few hours, the boat remained silent, no one speaking to each other. Kenneth and Michael took shifts steering the boat aimlessly. Ana had remained alone on the far side of the boat while Terry sat in the corner, recording what he could on the camera. CJ sat with Angela while she drifted in and out of sleep, her body burning up then turning ice cold, her condition worsening without the help of the pills.
Pointing the camera away from the back of the boat, Terry began recording ahead of the boat, his face bored. Staring into the lens, his eyebrow quirked until he suddenly frowned. Looking above the camera, he squinted into the distance before zooming the camera, looking through the lens again.
"Holy shit..." he whispered.
"What is it?" Ana asked, noticing Terry's change of demeaner.
"I think I see something," he replied, looking away from the camera once again, pointing just off-centre ahead of the boat. "What's that?"
Following where he pointed, the group squinted through the light sea mist. A dark outline of something tall and large could be seen, and when they steered closer after a minute, they realised it was trees – a forest. Sailing through the wall of mist, the beginning of an island came into view, a very large island with a wooden dock.
"Oh, my God," Michael said, standing from his seat.
Hearing everyone's surprised voices, Angela woke up, head lolling to the side tiredly. "What? What is it?"
"It's a goddamn island," CJ replied with wide eyes, his hands unconsciously tightening around her.
Pushing her body up to rest on the side of the boat, Angela looked at the island through half-lidded eyes. Mist still surrounded the tops of the tall and dark trees, blocking rays of sunlight, making it almost impossible to see further into the island. Angela noticed it was eerily silent, no sound of life on it; not even birds in the trees.
"Pull up on the dock," Michael said to Kenneth, walking to the very front of the boat.
A thrill of amazement ran through the group, Terry still filming with his camera while CJ adjusted Angela from his lap, taking a closer along with Ana. However, the more Angela stared at the seemingly deserted island, an uneasy ball formed in the bit of her stomach.
"Grab something," Kenneth ordered when they neared the dock, picking up his shotgun.
"CJ, I don't like this," Angela whispered, a hand pressing against her temple when she felt an oncoming headache.
Grabbing a shotgun from the bag of weapons, the only supplies they had on the boat, CJ knelt in front of her, running a soothing hand through her damp hair. "It's alright. We're gonna' be careful… but this place is in the middle of nowhere. It's taken us nearly a week to find it, we're miles away from land, away from those things."
The boat nudged against the wooden dock and she glanced towards the thick mass of trees, feeling the hairs prick on the back of her neck.
"CJ, I think-"
"Look, we're just gonna' check it out, okay? We need food and water, and you need medical attention," he said, his hand brushing down to her face when it tinged with pain, "this could be the place we need, Angela."
When the worry still shook her body, he sighed and kissed her forehead, letting his lips rest against her clammy skin.
"Just stay here for me, okay? We'll be careful."
The boat jolted when it came to a stop alongside the dock, Kenneth cutting the engine, a dreadful silence surrounding them. While CJ tried to calm Angela's nerves, everyone else had prepared themselves; Kenneth and Michael also armed themselves with a shotguns, Terry and Ana choosing handguns. Kissing her once again, CJ stood and joined the others at the front, leaving Angela resting on the seats.
Stilling for a few moments, hearing nothing but the waves rocking the boat, Kenneth climbed over the railings and stepped on the dock. CJ and Terry followed, Michael helping Ana until all of them stood on the wooden planks. Again, they stood quiet for brief period, listening for any signs of life, or death. Angela watched intently, her headache only worsening and a wave of sickness hitting her stomach.
Chips, who had laid hidden under the seats, stood startled, his ears pointing up and head cocking. Edging out from his hideaway, he stared out to the island before whimpering, turning to jump at Angela, pawing at her thighs.
"Chips," she said, shakily pushing the dog away from her injured legs, though she paused when she looked into the dog's worried eyes, "what's wrong, boy?"
The dog only whined, though when the group made their first steps across the dock, daring to explore the opening of the forest, he jumped down and released a sudden bark.
"Chips!" Terry hissed, turning to glare at the animal.
However, Chips didn't stop, his barking becoming loud and frantic, eyes trained on something amongst the trees. Attempting to shush the dog, Angela leant forward to grab him, only to quickly brace herself when a hot spike ran through her legs. Biting her lips to stop her cries, she felt like the boat was tipping, another wave of nausea washing over her, her vision spinning.
"Angela, shut that fucking dog up!" Ana said harshly, trying to keep her voice low.
The barking rang in Angela's ears and rattled inside her head, making her headache worse, feeling like she was taking repeated blows to her skull. Pain blinding her, she didn't witness Chips run across the boat and jump on the dock. Terry tried to stop him, but Chips strayed past him and bolted straight into the forest, his barks fading away.
Trying to clear her sight by blinking rapidly, Angela felt her stomach drop and the bile rising in her throat, gripping the railing for support when the scenery around her danced painfully. The gentle rocking of the boat felt like a rollercoaster ride, her limbs suddenly feeling light and airy. The world around her felt far away, her perception of reality becoming skewed.
"What was that?"
Michael's voice was distant, something thundering in Angela's ears. Through half-lidded eyes, she saw the trees on the island tremble, bushes swaying rapidly. Bodies moved in between them, groans becoming louder.
"Stay behind me!"
Angela was sure it was Kenneth yelling.
Heart pounding too fast against her ribs, she could feel the blood pumping through her veins. The burning in her legs intensified, like fire licking her flesh. Gunshots and screams echoed around her, Angela trying to focus her swimming vision. White eyes, hundreds of them emerging from the depths, rotting bodies running towards them, swarming like an infestation.
CJ? Where's CJ?
Terry appeared on the boat, trying to start the engine. Shooting as many infected as he could, Kenneth shouted over to Michael, who shot wildly into a large huddle of those things that amassed on the floor. A blood-curdling scream sliced through the air. Before she could find CJ, Angela collapsed against the seats, eyes staring up at the sky. Bright blue turned black, her breathing short and shallow as everything started fading around her; she tried calling out before she lost consciousness.
Opening her eyes, the blue sky returned. The rumble of the engine was absent, the boat rocking gently with the water. Vision slightly blurry, it took Angela a moment to gather her bearings, her memory blank. The island flashed through her mind, a horde of undead running from the trees, the gunshots firing in her head. When everything came back to her, not being able to find CJ before she lost consciousness, a terrified gasp chocked her throat.
"I'm here."
A hand swept across her forehead, the voice a tired whisper.
Tilting her head back, now realising it was resting in someone's lap, her eyes focused on CJ's worn and sunken face above her. A sheen of sweat caked his grimy skin, black and green fluids splattered on his clothes. A putrid smell mixed with gun powder burned Angela's nostrils.
"You were out cold for about an hour," he said, staring at her confused face. "The engine's fucked, barely made it off that island."
Brown eyes momentarily flicked away, Angela recognising the strained expression CJ made, knowing he was holding something back. Turning her head, she swept her gaze across the boat. Terry sat on the floor at the rear, his knees up to his chest, his face buried in them. Kenneth stood at the steering wheel staring out to the ocean, though his hands stayed by his sides. Sat alone on a padded bench, Michael's shoulder's slumped forward, his head in his hands and elbows on his knees – he was completely covered in the black substance, though patches of bright red stained his clothes. Ana was nowhere in sight.
Turning her head back, Angela stared up at the sky, feeling hollow. Mouth parched, she inhaled a raspy breath.
"What now?"
A long and tense silence followed her question, feeling CJ's body deflate beneath her.
"I don't know."
Well, that's it, that's the final chapter and conclusion to this story! God, this was such a painful chapter to write, but I wanted to keep it along the same lines as the film. Although Angela and CJ didn't die at the island, their fate is left unknown…
On a lighter note, I just want to say a big massive THANK YOU to everyone that has supported this story! This fandom is very small, practically non-existent at this point, so the amount of love this story has gotten is so overwhelming. I'm so glad all of you have seemed to have enjoyed it!
However, remember I mentioned I might add a separate chapter for Angela and CJ's smut and possible tid-bits? Well I got some feedback from some of you on both and AO3, and it seems you liked the idea! So, even though the story itself is completed, over the next couple of months I'll be adding chapters that contain Angela/CJ smut as well snippets of the two doing normal stuff in the mall (stuff that I couldn't really include in the story).
So, thank you all again, and make sure to keep an eye out for the extra chapters for bonus content!
