DISCLAIMER: Still with me? Cool. All Shaun of the Dead characters belong to Simon Pegg and Edgar Wright.
Evelyn, the innkeeper at the Eden River Inn, was trying to organize and prepare for the weekend's new arrivals. She was an imposing figure, impeccably dressed and still strikingly beautiful for her age (which, depending on her mood, wavered between late 30s and early 40s). The inn had always been her passion; the day her husband left her, it became her only passion. And she was growing increasingly intolerant of her careless staff members who were unwilling to show the same level of dedication.
Michelle strolled up to the front desk and addressed Evelyn. "You wanted to see me, ma'am?"
"Yes, Michelle, I'm going to need you to work a double shift tonight," Evelyn said, flipping through a stack of messages.
"You what?"
"Tara went missing this morning and I'm going to need you to pick up the slack."
"But I have plans."
"Cancel them. We've still got the wedding party to deal with, plus new people coming in for the weekend. I need all the help I can get."
"Yeah, okay," Michelle acquiesced. "Did Tara say where she was going?"
"I sent her for some more champagne during a very busy brunch this morning and she vanished."
"But that's not like Tara."
"Isn't it, though?"
"I'm just saying, if she were going to leave she would have asked me to cover her shift or something."
"Michelle, don't worry about it. If she's still missing tomorrow, I'll inform the police. For now, I need you to help with the preparations for dinner."
"Yes, ma'am."
Michelle disappeared into the kitchen, and Evelyn turned her attention to the couple walking through the front door. "Hello, and welcome to the Eden River Inn."
"Hi," greeted the ginger-haired gentleman struggling with the luggage while his female companion looked around, taking in the details of the old country house. "I'm Shaun Riley, I have a reservation."
"Yes, Mr. Riley. We're so glad to have you here. If you'll just sign the hotel registry, I'll get your key." Shaun signed the book while Evelyn turned to the rack of keys on the wall behind her. "Room 23 is all ready for you."
"Thanks very much," he smiled, taking the key.
"Enjoy your stay," she added.
"We'll try." He picked up the bags again and the couple headed upstairs. Evelyn, out of an automatic curious reflex, glanced at the hotel registry to find his signature and read the words "Mr. and Mrs. Anakin Skywalker." She chuckled and shook her head. Yet another hotel guest unwilling to give their real name. That was fine, she thought, as long as their checks went through.
Up in Room 23, Shaun started to unpack while Emma explored the room.
"Oh, the bathroom is gorgeous, Shaun," she enthused. "And have you seen the view from the window? Look at those gardens!"
"I'm glad you like it," he said.
"I love it! I'm so glad I convinced you to bring me here!" She dug through her messenger bag for her digital camera. "I think I'm gonna' go do some wandering, check out the local flora and fauna before dinner. Will you be okay here?"
"Yeah. I'll finish unpacking, take a shower and get changed for dinner."
"Sounds like a plan." She gave him a quick kiss on the way out the door.
After his shower, Shaun wrapped a towel around his waist and used another towel to dry his hair, draping the second towel around his shoulders. As he was hanging some shirts in the closet, he heard a sound coming from the door, as if someone was trying to unlock it. He looked over to the dresser and saw the key that he'd been given at the front desk laying on its highly polished wooden surface, realizing that it was not Emma trying to get in.
As the door unlocked and slowly opened, Shaun jumped into the closet and pulled the sliding door closed, leaving just enough space to observe whomever was breaking and entering. He heard the door close and a female figure dressed in black crossed his line of sight, moving slowly and cautiously. She peeked into the open bathroom first, then proceeded further into the room.
Defensive instincts that he hadn't used in a long time suddenly awoke in Shaun and he knew he had to subdue this person and find out why they were in his room. The only weapons at hand were a clothes hanger and the towel around his neck. He quietly slid the door open and grabbed the towel tightly, an end in each hand, ready to place it around the neck of the intruder.
But as he readied himself to attack the woman, she sensed his presence behind him, ducked and thrust her elbow into his stomach. He doubled over in pain and loss of breath. She took hold of his right arm and flung him to the ground. Planting her right knee firmly on his chest, she deftly swung a crossbow off her shoulder and pointed it at his throat.
Shaun looked from the very sharp tip of the arrow in the crossbow, along the length of the arm holding it, up the neck and found himself looking into the face of a dead woman.
"Sara?" he whispered in disbelief.
"Shaun?" she spoke softly, her brown eyes wide with surprise.
An anxious, breathless moment of silence passed between them before she declared in a shaky voice, "You're not supposed to be here."
"Neither are you."
Her eyes narrowed as she focused on his face. "Is it really you, Shaun?"
"Yes it is. Now would you mind pointing that somewhere other than my neck?" He nervously gestured to move the tip of the arrow away from his jugular.
"Yeah, sorry. My bad." She lowered the crossbow and removed her knee from his chest to stand and carefully scan the room. There were clothes strewn about, some of them obviously feminine. She was guessing he hadn't taken up cross-dressing. "Are you here with someone?"
"Yes," he replied, struggling to his feet. "My girlfriend."
"Well, this is…unexpected," she sighed, placing the crossbow on the dresser's highly polished wooden surface. She leaned against the dresser and glanced at Shaun, taking in his look of shock and amazement. "Why are you looking at me like that? It's the hair, isn't it? It makes me look stupid?" she asked, referring to the new black, shoulder-length straight hair that she was sporting.
"No, it's just…you're dead."
"Um, no. Still alive and kicking, so to speak," she smiled, making a conscious effort to look him in the face and not let her eyes linger on his exposed chest and arms.
"I got a letter from the Council telling me that you'd died," he explained.
"Oh, that? I'd almost forgotten. You see, while on a mission, I happened to kill a Geldfuhrung, a channeler demon."
"Channeler? Like they talk to dead people?"
"No, channeler like they handle money for the Russian mafia, diverting funds to extremist groups in Chechnya, Somalia, wherever there's a buck to be made on a power struggle. Anyway, the Russians didn't take too kindly to losing one of their best demons, so they sent every assassin between here and Houston after me. The Council decided that the only way to keep me alive was to kill me. Well, actually they decided to kill Sara Cross and have me take on the new identity of Helen Wellesley."
"Okay…" Shaun said slowly.
She crossed her arms and tilted her head in confusion. "They sent you a letter?"
"A form letter."
"A form letter! My God, my parents must be freaking out right now."
"I think I might join them."
"Look, I'm really sorry that things worked out this way. I never meant to hurt you, Shaun. But it certainly looks as if you got over it," she observed with subdued resentment, making a sweeping gesture across the room. "Met someone else, decided to take them on a romantic mini-break. At least now I know why you never wrote me back."
"Wrote you back? How could I write you? I had no idea how to get in touch with you."
"Maybe you could have checked the return address on all the letters I sent you?"
"I never got any letters," he protested.
Sara paused and considered. "No. No, of course you didn't. Those Council bastards must have censored my mail."
"You couldn't call or send an email or something?"
"I was in a remote part of Hungary, Shaun. They don't exactly have hi-speed modems out there. Broadband kinda' takes a backseat to finding food, shelter, and living through the night when there are vicious werewolves after you," she snapped.
A few more anxious moments passed between them without a word, neither of them eager to make eye contact. Shaun put his hands on his hips. "So are you gonna' tell me why you're here?" he asked.
"I was following up a lead. I guess I got the wrong room."
"I mean, why are you here at this hotel? I'd like to know if there's an apocalypse coming up."
"Oh, there's no apocalypse. Don't be so melodramatic."
"Call me crazy, but you and cataclysmic disasters seem to go hand in hand."
"Well, you can rest easy, Shaun. In fact, I'll revise my mission, shall I? I will do everything in my power to not let anything interrupt this splendid good time that you now seem to be having."
"Save the sarcasm, Sara. You're not gonna' make me feel guilty about spending a romantic weekend with my girlfriend. Because that's what normal people in a normal relationship do, okay?"
She looked at him and shook her head. "You know, I'm glad I meant so much to you, I'm glad that you were so devastated by my death…"
"Hey, you chose to leave, all right? What was I supposed to do?"
"You could have waited for me," she huffed in a petulant tone.
"As I recall, you didn't know if you were coming back," he reminded.
"Of course I would have come back. You knew I would have come back."
"How, Sara? You're not exactly predictable or reliable."
"And I suppose she is?" she inquired, gesturing at Emma's clothing laid out on the bed.
"Yes, she is," Shaun declared with crossed arms.
Sara focused her gaze on the floor, trying to keep her conflicting emotions in check. "Well, I'm glad," she muttered.
"I'm happy you're glad," he sarcastically retorted.
"And I'm glad you're happy."
"Yeah, well, I'm gladder."
"You know what? Fine. Best wishes to you and your lovely new girlfriend, Shaun. I wonder how long it'll be till this one sucks the life out of you," she hissed. She picked up her crossbow and headed for the door. "It was not nice seeing you again."
"Yeah, well, you're not nice, either!" he blurted.
He hadn't meant to say it that way, and he instantly regretted it when she turned on him with a look that would wither the healthiest of plants. She seemed about to respond but thought better of it and merely slammed the door behind her, leaving Shaun alone in the empty room.