I am a fan of both the original and remade versions of this story, and I love crossovers so of course this would result in fanfiction. The timelines are obviously altered to account for the fact that these were made in two different times. I have used the present (or the 2004) version for the timeline simply because I am living in that time now! Also, Fran and Peter lived for an indeterminate time in the mall (as did the Crossroads crew) – for story purposes, I am having Fran/Peter's time be quite a bit shorter and the Crossroads crew a bit longer than may be portrayed. There will be other discrepancies I would ask you to forgive as well owing to the differences in the films…after all, this is supposed to be fun for you and I! Otherwise, I am trying my best to keep true to BOTH films, as both are horror classics in their own rights! (At least, in my humble opinion!)
(Obligatory disclaimer: This is for fun, the characters are not mine, I wish they were, everything is owned by, unfortunately, not me, except this story.)
Dawn to Dawn
Chapter 1
The helicopter's fuel tank was nearly empty. Fran hadn't said it, but Peter knew it. They had a limited amount of time left in the air – a space of minutes, twenty at tops. It was clear to the both of them that the helicopter was running on little more than their hopes and the last breath of petroleum in the engine.
"We need a place to land. Now." Fran said, finally breaking the silence that had reigned for the better part of three hours. It was only sheer luck that they had been able to find fueling stops the last two times. Now it seemed their luck had run out. They were over a large metropolitan area, but the shifting, hungry shapes beneath them had kept them from landing. Peter knew that Fran had been scouting the area as well as he, and also knew that she had come up with as little. They had seemingly wandered into a fairly sparse part of the city, and even the rooftops seemed uninviting to their eyes, as if they could tell that beneath them not lay certain death, no, death would almost be welcome at this time, but a form of eternal life. A strange, horrid half-life where the inhabitant of the body became nothing more than a shell, a repository for the mindless beast that had devoured it.
Peter narrowed his eyes, shaking the thought from his head. This wasn't the time for the philosophical thoughts that had begun to cross his mind as the days passed. He wasn't given to philosophy, he was a man of action – but the truth of the matter was one couldn't help but question the nature of these things. But this wasn't the time. "Fran, look…I think that might be a decent spot to land." He pointed.
"A warehouse?" Fran asked doubtfully, and Peter shook his head. He had learned that he had much better eyesight than her.
"No, I don't think so." He said, without missing a beat. "I think it's a mall."
Fran's silence was the only answer he had to that. He glanced at her, and the small, frightened look on her face let him know that she was not exactly thrilled by this new 'haven.' "Look, Fran, we're almost out of fuel. We need to set down…and I think there might be writing of some sort up there."
"What?" Fran's voice turned sharp, and the helicopter edged upwards suddenly. They both peered through the window. There was writing all right. And despite himself, despite the fact that only days ago he had been ready to end his own life, he felt his heart leap as he read the words.
ALIVE INSIDE"Do you think it's still possible?" Fran asked hesitantly.
"There's only one way to find out." Peter said, and smiled at her confidently. Their strange friendship had no large measure of closeness to it, but they had nonetheless forged a bond he recognized from his time in the army – a bond wrought by adversity.
They were survivors.
Peter felt a twinge of worry as Fran swung the helicopter towards the mall. He had thought the ravenous crowd outside the mall he and Fran had fled from was bad, but this one bordered on nightmarish proportions. And it may have been a trick of the light, but they seemed…well, fast. Half of the time Peter had almost felt guilty at the ease with which he had battled the dead things that had consumed Roger and Flyboy – they had moved slowly, like they were distantly related to the extinct dinosaur and it took a goodly amount of time for the thoughts from their minimal brains to reach their limbs. But the creatures beating at the walls of this place looked as if they could outrun an Olympic racer.
But maybe it was just a trick of his senses. "Fran, do you know what the name of this mall is?"
Fran laughed harshly. "Peter, I don't even know what city this is. Steven…well, Steven taught me how to fly this thing. He hadn't gotten around to teaching me much about how to navigate the damn contraption. I can lift'er up, put'er down, and fuel'er up. That's about it."
"That's okay." Peter said as the closed in on the roof of the mall. Dusk had fallen not long before, but the moon still illuminated the roof well. There didn't appear to be any of the zombies on the roof. That didn't mean much, actually, because he didn't see any living people on the roof, but…
They landed gently. One thing Peter had learned about Fran – she was a quick learner. During their early firearms lessons she had shown a much greater aptitude than Flyboy had, though Peter didn't tell Steven so. He had kept quiet not to protect Steven's feelings, but to protect his and Fran's relationship – a posse of three could not afford to be broken up by feelings of jealousy. It was only logical.
Peter was a logical man.
The 'copter sputtered to a stop. He followed Fran out the hatch, his hand instinctively reaching out to her as she tottered, the weight of her pregnant stomach pulling her off balance for a moment. "You okay?" he asked.
"No." Fran laughed a little. "But that's no different from any other day."
Peter felt as if he should comfort her, but his soldier's instincts had already kicked in. Something was wrong here – he could feel it. Nothing had changed perceptibly, but something was definitely wrong. He opened the door on the roof – oh, how he wished they had been able to have such easy access – and peered into the darkness beyond.
There were no lights shining. Not even the emergency lights were on. The power was dead.
"Peter, maybe we should-"
"Quiet." He said a trifle harshly. Alive inside. Maybe he was being foolish, but they couldn't go much farther on the fuel they had anyways. "Stay behind me, and cover me."
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Fran's face tighten, and she gripped the rifle more firmly. There was a soldier's instinct in her, he knew. He had seen it on the day she had demanded that she was a part of the group, that she would be included on their decisions and plans. He stood by what he had said that day – she was right, but not until she proved she was able to do so. That hadn't been a sexist comment, though Fran may have taken it that way. It had been a statement of fact. He had treated Steven in the same manner - but Flyboy had come through. Fran had an inner core of steel that was just starting to show through, and Peter was surprised to feel that he felt a measure of confidence at having her at his back. She was stronger than her lover had been, he felt sure of that.
But he still walked the steps cautiously, swinging the flashlight in front of him back and forth. The door closed behind Fran and the only light was from the strong beam- strong, but limited in range. "Come on." He said, pushing down his fear. Something was definitely wrong here, but the chance…he remembered the words on the roof.
Alive inside.
OoooOoooO
"Just breathe."
Andre watched the face of his wife, his soul-mate, his reason for living as she hitched in her breath shallowly, her eyes staring near-blankly at the ceiling. Look at me, look at me…. He thought helplessly, but the beautiful brown orbs stayed locked on some distant vision as Luda hitched in one last breath…and died.
Andre watched, sweat coursing down his face, and waited for her to breathe again. The dim lights didn't even afford him the illusion of one last breath, and he knew she was gone. He felt his face tighten, and a wave of grief so strong he actually felt he might stop breathing came over him. "I'm sorry." He said, leaning over and kissing her, gently, one last time upon the lips. Tears escaped from beneath his closed eyelids, and he rested his head upon the breast of the woman who been his companion and his salvation. His future had died here, in this room that should have celebrated new life.
His future had died.
Kenneth had been right when he had said Andre was afraid of going to Hell. But what he hadn't known is that Andre had already found his redemption – had found it in the face of his beautiful young wife and the promise of their unborn child. Andre had striven to be the man that Luda deserved when they had discovered their unlikely romance. When she had consented to be his wife, he had dared to hope that his past deeds would be forgiven. When she had told him he was going to be a father a few months later, he had been sure of it.
But maybe God had given him Luda and the baby so that his punishment could be that much crueler. Maybe God had hated him so much that he couldn't be content to murder Andre's family, his mother, his sister, his fourteen year old brother who had looked so like their father…maybe God also had a merciless sense of humor. Give Andre joy, give Andre hope…then snatch it away before you let Andre die.
How could God have done this to him? To Luda? To the innocent child that lay dead within her womb?
Dimly he began to be aware of a movement close to his head. Andre lifted his face slowly, turning to the right with a deliberate motion. The baby kicked…no, squirmed beneath the taut skin of Luda's abdomen. He watched in astonishment…almost for a moment too long.
Luda awoke with a vengeance, and Andre stumbled back as she bared her teeth at him and hissed at her with inhuman eyes. He was suddenly reminded of the straps that held her down, the straps that just moments ago he had been agonizing over and wishing he could release her from. "It's coming." He whispered, almost inaudibly. Luda snapped her teeth at him, and he felt his soul wrench as he grabbed the gag he had made earlier from the dresser. He had hoped he wouldn't have to use it…but he did.
As Luda strained against the gag and writhed in the restraints on the bed, an explosive rush of some unimaginable dark fluid shot from between her legs. "It's coming." Andre said again, a little louder. Thoughts crowded in his mind, his memory running backwards-
Yes, Andre, I will marry youLuda screamed inside the gag, muffled, her eyes rolling up into her head….
Andre, we're going to have a baby…
Her pelvis thrust up, legs spreading, and Andre began to inch around to where he could see…
It's a very healthy baby, ma'am. Heartbeat is strong.
Andre winced as his wife screamed again beneath the bit, but this time it sounded more like the scream of a woman in pain…
Are you sure you don't want to know if it's a boy or girl?
Dark, clotted chunks littered the bed between her legs, but he could see Luda turning her legs into a straddling position…almost as if the restraints were stirrups in a hospital bed…
You have less than two weeks to go…the baby's turned properly, I've never seen a mother who took such good care of herself...
And he suddenly realized that something of Luda remained, some part of her wanted to give birth to their child…
It should be an easy birth.
It should be an easy birth.
Andre silently gave a prayer of thanks to a God unknown, as the God who had thus far protected the Earth had obviously abandoned them.
"You're doing good, baby." Andre said to Luda, his eyes shining but him being unaware of the frightening lack of sanity in them. Luda whipped her head back and forth, the gutteral noises she made being muffled by her gag and filtered through his consciousness until they were robbed of their terrifying power. "Our baby's coming."
Andre smiled, his heart soaring even as his mind broke.
"Our baby's coming."
OoooOoooO
"There's something up there."
Fran simply nodded, her lips pressed tightly together as she trailed a few feet behind Peter. He had flicked off the flashlight as soon as they had turned the corner. She had seen it too, the faint light ahead that flickered enticingly and yet ominously at the same time. Peter gave a sharp inclination of his head to show that he knew she had understood, and crept silently along the passageway. She felt as if she were pounding along the ground like a herd of elephants compared to him, even though she had traded the stylish pumps she preferred for a pair of tennis long ago. Peter had an eerie ability to be absolutely silent…a talent she hoped to learn from him – eventually.
There were noises suddenly, voices, it sounded like. But she couldn't make out anything they were saying.
Peter looked at her, and then copied her gesture as she shook her head. Neither of them could make out any words. The light flickered again, and there were the sharp sound of footprints on the ground. Fran looked at Peter hopefully.
He shook his head. We can't be sure. He mouthed to her. She felt her shoulders sag just the slightest bit, but her grip on the rifle didn't waver. She followed him as silently as possible. They passed a store by the name of Metropolis and she noticed that the window had been shattered, but there was no glass littering the floor. Someone had cleaned it up…
Another sound came out of the darkness, and this time she was sure she had heard it correctly. A woman was humming somewhere ahead of them, not too far away…quietly and out of tune, but humming all the same. Fran glanced at Peter and realized he had noticed the same thing. The caution still in his eyes kept her silent, though, and they shared a brief glance.
Instinct remained. They really didn't know how much. They had found out that some memory remained – Steven had led the unreasoning horde to their home within the mall, after all.
Caution still guiding their steps, Fran and Peter inched closer.
OoooOoooO
"Sure you don't want me to take it?"
"Nah, I'll do it." Norma grabbed the candles off the counter, and Anna watched her pull her cigarettes out of her pocket. "I'll smoke on the way."
"'Kay." Anna agreed. She started humming as she continued to light the candles that were still not burning. When they got the power up and running she would check on Luda – but it would be easier to see how she was doing in proper light, anyways. Andre and Luda were reclusive, even distant from the rest of the group, but Anna could understand their desperate need for each other. They had seen and heard countless families being destroyed, listened to the stories of the others losing their loved ones, and yet they still had survived to this point – whole, and a family. Anna viewed Luda's baby as a sort of hopeful promise that they would get through this, that the human race would rise to the potential of its mighty spirit and survive.
Anna meant to do anything she could to help this baby have the best start it could.
She may have not been a doctor, but she had enough pride to admit she was a damn fine nurse, and maybe that was enough. Never had she felt her medical skills were as valuable as they were right now. That was understandable. They hadn't been as valuable. She'd been a damn fine nurse, all right, one of a thousand of damn fine nurses, but now…she was all these people had. And Anna was glad she had been a damn fine nurse.
The candlelight flickered, and Anna felt rather than saw that she was no longer alone. She pulled the gun from her back pocket, still humming though softer now, and inched around from behind the counter in Hallowed Grounds. She'd feel mighty silly if it was just Monica or Terry or Nicole…but she'd be mighty dead if it wasn't. She stopped humming as she crept towards the shadows near Metropolis. The gun was steady in her hand.
"Say something."
The deep voice brooked no disobedience, but Anna turned slowly before she answered. She already knew what that answer was.
The man before her was dark skinned, tall, and dressed in a uniform of authority. Anna would have probably felt déjà vu if it hadn't have been for the pretty blond pregnant woman behind him, holding a rifle and looking at her just as coldly. Anna held her gun up in a gesture of surrender. She may have not been a doctor, but at this point was the closest thing to it, and one of the creeds a physician had to adhere to was do no harm.
"Say something!" The man said again, more harshly this time. Anna swallowed as she pointed her gun in the air and spoke.
"Please."
End of Chapter OnePlease review! I am a review junkie! (grin)