DISCLAIMER: Characters from "Shaun of the Dead" are not mine. Simon Pegg and Edgar Wright are also not mine. And yes, that is immensely tragic.
Sara sat on the couch, clutching at the teacup as if it were the only thing that would keep her from collapsing.
Shaun felt helplessly caught between Sara's impending panic and Michael's determined concern. "Look, are we absolutely sure that this was Davrok?" he offered.
"Yes, we are fairly certain, Shaun. Unless you know of any other ancient vampires who've been trying to build their own army for the coming apocalypse."
"Apocalypse?" he repeated with disbelief. Was it really necessary to go mentioning the "A" word so casually?
"Yes, according to the prophecy that Alexandra is in the process of translating, the world as we know it will cease to exist on the night of the lunar eclipse. Which is, oh, 3 days away."
Shaun looked to Sara for support. "Yeah, but it's not a real apocalypse, is it? It's not four horsemen, raining fire from the sky, rivers of molten lava kind of apocalypse? Just sort of a mini-cosmic malfunction?"
"I'm afraid he's right, Shaun," she said softly, trying to wake up from her state of shock. "When these ancient prophecies say 'end of the world,' they usually mean 'end of the world.' It's the one occasion where they're not vague."
"Well, we can't let that happen, can we?"
"What are we going to do? There's no Council, we have no idea what Davrok is planning, we can't possibly stop something that we can't even identify."
"We've got three days, right?" Shaun asked Michael. "Plenty of time to at least make a dent in this Turkish guy's undead army. Maybe that'll help avert this supposed apocalypse."
"It's not that simple, Shaun," Michael sighed. "Davrok will have learned the location of our operatives in Glasgow, Cardiff, Belfast. His legions will systematically wipe out every slayer between here and the Continent. I wouldn't be surprised if he comes after both of you next."
Shaun and Sara exchanged concerned looks.
"At best, Shaun and I can only take out 5 to 10 vamps at one time," she said. "It's not enough. If only there were some way we could wipe them out with one fell swoop."
Silently, the wheels in Shaun's head started to turn. He had the beginnings of an idea, which could be the beginnings of a plan. "Okay, what did we all learn from the movie 'Van Helsing'?" Shaun asked them.
"That our eardrums could withstand more noise than we thought?" Sara groaned.
"No. Well, apart from that..." The group was at a loss. Shaun continued, "Look, remember when the vampires were all gathered at that masquerade ball, and he set off this bomb burst of sunlight which killed all the vampires?"
"We don't have any sunlight bombs, Shaun," Michael declared.
"Nor do we know where vampires gather, if they do gather," Sara added. "They tend to be pretty solitary for the most part."
"But wouldn't they tend to go somewhere with a lot of people? Like their own version of an all-you-can-eat buffet?"
"Wait a minute," Sara said slowly. "Just before that vamp tried to kill me, he said something about Davrok having a coming-out party tonight. Something about him giving all the vamps a free meal. Maybe he does plan to sic his minions on some big party or rave in town."
"And if there is a party going on, I know just the man with the down-low on it," Shaun stated.
"Hang on," Michael interrupted. "Even if there is some sort of rave buffet, where do we go from there? We couldn't evacuate the place without causing a panic. We can't send anyone in because it would be suicide. We can't plant explosives beforehand because they'd see them."
"What if we set a trap for them?" Sara suggested.
"What kind of trap?"
"Well, since we're borrowing ideas from the movie 'Blade,' let's keep going. The tech guys were working on some kind of directional UV lighting, right? So we go back to the Council, salvage whatever equipment we can. We set up these UV lamps around the club, blend them in with the strobe lighting or whatever. When we turn them on, the vamps in the crowd become crispy critters."
"And maybe we could arm the kids with stakes or holy water or something?" Shaun added.
"I am not comfortable with arming civilians, Shaun," Michael countered. "They're not even supposed to know that vampires exist."
"Oh, give me a break, Michael. Of course, they know they exist. They've been losing friends, relatives, whomever to these Davrok minions for weeks. They're not stupid. They're not buying the PR story you've fed to the media about wild dogs or whatever."
"They aren't?" Michael looked hurt.
"No! Now let's deny this Turkish twat a free meal and give these people a chance to fight back. What do you say?"
"I'm in," Sara confirmed.
"Fine," Michael sighed. "But if anyone from Scotland Yard asks, this was all your idea."
After he'd seen them off, Shaun put in a call to the local courier. Almost immediately after he hung up the phone, there was a knock at the door. Shaun opened it to admit a tall, peroxide blond man dressed in a tight black shirt with colorful stripes at the shoulder, a black ballcap on backwards and yellow headphones round his neck.
"Oy, you lucky peop...Eh, where's blondie?" he said in his quick staccato accent.
"Blondie has left the building, Tyres. We broke up about a month ago."
"What happened? She finally wise up and realize that she was going nowhere if she saddled herself to an aimlessly wandering horse the likes of you?"
"I am not an aimlessly wandering horse. We just sort of realized that we were on separate paths."
"Yeah, the path that takes you to the same bloody pub night after night, where you order the same drink, eat the same bag of Twiglets, and talk about the same sad sci-fi trivia every night."
Shaun shook his head. How come every conversation with Tyres made him feel like the most pathetic loser on the face of the planet? How could a bike courier hold such power over his fragile psyche? "Well, maybe I'd like to change my path," Shaun hinted. "Maybe I need a change of venue. Could you suggest something?"
"Well, my friend, if you're looking for a heaping helping of disco between two slices of ecstacy bread, I might know the right place for you," Tyres said, casually seating himself in the nearest armchair.
"Tell me."
"Very exclusive rave tonight at a warehouse down in Brixton. We're talkin' high-end, no expense spared, no desire left ungranted, no act of immorality left uncommitted. Bunch of rich kids and socialites are the only ones invited, but I happen to be a close personal friend of one of the security guys."
"Well, tell me where it is."
He laughed and shook his head in contempt. "They'd never let you in, Shaunie."
"Why not?"
"You work at an appliance store."
"I manage an appliance store," he corrected in an irritated tone.
"Like I said, this party's for people of leisure. Not working folk like you and me."
"I thought you said you were going?"
"That's 'cause I know how to blend in, mix with the crowd. Let's face it, Shaunie, you are not a people person. You don't know how to play it cool."
"Just tell me where the bloody party is, Tyres," Shaun demanded wearily.
"All right, all right. Warehouse 317. Brixton. But don't let on to anyone there that you know me. I've got a reputation to maintain."
"A reputation as a drugged-up, burnt-out, overgrown club kid with loose morals and an immensely short attention span?"
"Exactly."