DISCLAIMER: Do you care that Simon Pegg used to be in a breakdancing group called the Galaxians? Do you care that Edgar Wright has a somewhat strange fascination with the keyboard player from Wet Wet Wet? Do you care that I do not own the rights to any Shaun of the Dead characters, and that said rights actually belong to the aforementioned Simon Pegg and Edgar Wright? Yeah, I thought not. Anyway, on with the story…
It was cold. Extremely cold. The moment Shaun's body crossed the threshold, the temperature around him seemed to drop forty, even fifty degrees. He struggled to keep his eyes open; there was a weight on his eyelids, like being underwater, only there was no water. He could breathe, but the pressure was like a sustained punch to the chest that didn't end. Sara, he had to find Sara.
And then he blacked out, and it began...
Outside the portal, meanwhile, the rescue team scuttled around Room 34, securing the mooring of the line to the floorboards. Several Council agents held onto the line tensely, waiting for Shaun's signal. Julian shoved his hands into his pockets and paced the room, while Will's ghost leaned against the bathroom doorway.
"Do you think they'll be okay?" Detective Ashford inquired from a corner, trying to keep out of harm's way.
"Yes, I'm sure they'll be happy to answer any and all of your questions, detective," Julian replied sarcastically, "just as soon as they return to this plane of existence."
"I was just asking. No need to get tetchy," she muttered.
"Could you at least walk in a figure-eight, Westie?" Will sighed. "The back and forth is getting tedious."
"Oh... I'm terribly sorry to inconvenience you," Julian snapped. "Maybe I should pop on over to the hell dimension and see what the hold-up is."
"Look, I know you're concerned…"
"Concerned? I'm bloody terrified!And don't try to upstage me with some sage advice about what you'd do in this situation, because you've never been in this situation."
"That is true. But that's the nature of this job. Not everything is in the handbook, Westie. Sometimes you've simply got to have faith."
When the darkness cleared, Shaun was looking up into a window full of sunshine, its warmth on his face a comfort from the freezing cold of...wherever he was. He didn't want to think about it. Blinking his eyes, he squinted at the silhouette of...an elephant? Unconsciously, he reached up toward it; his arms were short, chubby and uncoordinated. It took him another moment still to realize this was a memory - he was a baby, at home in his cot, reaching out for the powder-blue elephant on his zoo mobile. Suddenly two friendly faces appeared over the rails of the cot: Barbara, much younger, in big hoop earrings with her long hair falling over one shoulder. And...though he heard his infant self gurgle contentedly, inside he gasped at the sight of a pair of ginger sideburns.
"...Dad?" he thought. Right then just as the memory had began, he was whisked away from it, a shiver coursing through his body as he found himself in a still-sunlit but much colder and grimmer surrounding. He was still small, but on his feet, standing beside his mum. Looking up at her tear-streaked face, the gold pendant Dad had given her glistening at the neckline of her dress. Her black dress. He peered over his shoulder at a room full of ashen-faced, black-clad mourners, and with wobbly legs and his mother's reassuring hand on his shoulder, he walked toward a coffin he still did not want to look inside. Fear paralyzed him where he stood.
"I don't want to, Mum," his small voice whispered. "Please."
"Really, Shaun," said the voice...not Barbara's voice. A horrible, bewitched, evil voice.
"You must be more adult about these things."
Back in the darkness, there was a pulse of spectral light and Shaun reached out into the ether. "Where is she!" he shouted. The voice laughed at him as he fumbled his way into nothingness, without a compass, nothing to lead him to the only thing sustaining his will to carry on.
Her.
"Sara!" Shaun called - and suddenly he was violently swept off his feet, the wind knocked out of him as he felt his head slam face-first against concrete pavement. As the pain rocketed through his skull, he heard a familiar laugh erupt from a few feet away and the sound of his skateboard rolling off into the distance of another memory.
"I told you you couldn't do it!" said Ed. Ten-year-old Ed, in a blue anorak and a Tron t-shirt, who suddenly appeared standing over him, still cackling and pointing. "What a tit."
"Help me up!" his young voice pleaded. He struggled to his feet and a strange, warm sensation began to trickle down over his right eye.
"That was wicked, though. Oi, Shaun - you're bleeding!" And no sooner had Ed spoken than Shaun's memories shifted again...
"I'm bleeding!" he shouted. His trainers pounded the grass in the garden as he ran for his life around his mother's hydrangeas, and Phillip hot on his heels with that fucking bit of wood. "Mum, I'm bleeding! He hit meeeeeeeee!"
"That's a lie, Barbara! No chocolate, no chocolate in the bloody car ever, do you hear me!" Phillip barked.
"Help!" young Shaun cried.
"Help!" his adult self echoed, suddenly feeling the onset of panic, his breath shortening and his mind racing with no idea where to go or what to do next.
"Giving up so soon?" the bewitched voice - he presumed it was Maggie - taunted. "Haven't you learned anything?"
At that, Shaun's body keeled forward and suddenly he was standing on the schoolyard. First year of secondary school. Fists clenched, staring down at his shoes, gathering the courage to walk across the yard to the old elm tree and approach a group of girls. Standing in the middle of the group, laughing, was Jennifer Hulme.
Jennifer Hulme! - holy shit, he'd forgotten about her. He'd been mad about Jennifer, straw-gold hair and green eyes and...oh, balls. He really didn't want to relive this one again. One foot in front of the other, he felt like he was walking the plank of a pirate ship toward certain death; no sooner had he reached the tree than Jennifer and her three friends ceased giggling and were suddenly staring at him with blank faces.
"Uh...hi. J-j--Jennifer, I...um, right. I was wondering if...I mean, I thought that..."
They continued to gaze at him. Hazel-Jane Upton blew a huge bubble with her gum and it burst with a dull pop. Jennifer blinked, expectantly; she was so pretty.
"Maybe...after school, you...you want to..."
He couldn't. He didn't want to face that rejection again; somewhere deep inside, Shaun tried to fight the memory, to somehow help his smaller self grow a pair and change the outcome. Of course, there was no altering the past and he knew it, but he was beginning to tire of being toyed with by a pissed-off poltergeist. He was beginning to fight back. The memory was unchangeable, fair enough; still, in an effort to spit in Maggie's eye, Shaun shifted his focus onto something nicer.
"Christ...that's nice," said Shaun - age sixteen, pressed up against a stall in the girl's toilets during a school dance. Some electro-pop song pulsed from down the hall in the gym, but all he cared about was Caroline Reed blowing in his ear and being the first girl to put her hand down the front of his pants. He pushed his fingers into her short-cropped auburn hair and kissed her; she tasted like Black Jacks and cheap cider.
No...no, he could do much better than this...
Now he was in the dormitories at university, his head falling back against a pillow in a room with rose-pink walls that smelled faintly of incense. He had successfully convinced Natalie Dooley that skipping their philosophy lecture was a spectacular idea and now she was straddling him in her bikini knickers, about to take her top off.
Oof, that was a good one. But...he could do better still...
It was approaching midnight, but the Grecian sea breeze was still warm as he led Liz by the hand into a tiny alcove, far out of sight of anyone or anything. Her sun-kissed face glowed in the moonlight and she giggled; he brushed his knuckles against her cheek and his heart hammered like mad. He leaned in to kiss her...
Better...
Two, maybe three o'clock in the morning. In bed at the Eden River Inn. The room was absolutely still, save for Sara's two fingers which she absent-mindedly walked across his chest as they rested. Propped up on one pillow, she lifted her hand; he wanted to close his eyes but he couldn't take them off her. She traced the lines of his face and batted her long eyelashes, bit her lip and grinned like the Cheshire cat. He felt as though his heart were about to explode; Sara was alive. And she did love him. And that, he realized, was the happiest he'd ever been his life. Shaun suddenly cinched Sara's waist and rolled her over; she squealed and ran her hands down his back as he buried his face in her hair. Lavender and chamomile...
And just then, in the freezing shadows, it brushed his face. A long, silken length of hair that smelled of lavender and chamomile.
"Sara!" It was her, it had to be her...instinctively, Shaun reached out and latched on to a stiff, lifeless shape that felt vaguely as if it might be her...his suspicions confirmed when a horrible howl rang out around them and the vortex of light he'd leapt into moments - or was it hours? Days? - earlier began to spin out of control. He folded his arms about her and shielded Sara from the light; a horrible pain, like an electric shock amplified by the thousands, soared through his body. But he would not let go. He gritted his teeth and tried not to scream, but he held onto Sara tighter. And with all the strength left in him, Shaun reached down toward his waist and tugged on the rope.
"NOW!" Julian hollered. "Pull them back, now!"
Shaun was so ready. Where he expected he'd soon find himself in a heap, surrounded by strangers, still clinging to a gasping Sara...he suddenly found himself in a white hospital room. Like the one he'd been in at Council headquarters after Melanie had bitten him, when Sara rescued him the first time...only now, he was sat next to the bed and Sara was lying in it. Pale, with black circles under her eyes. She opened them and managed a faint smile.
"I didn't think I'd find you," Shaun said, taking her hand.
"I've been here all along," she murmured.
"Do you think you can move?"
She smiled weakly. "Are you asking me to dance?"
"Something like that."
"I thought you'd never ask." And before he could scream, sickly Sara morphed into demonic, veiny, hideous Sara/Maggie and she latched onto his neck, toppling him to the floor. He struggled to pry her fingers away but they were like talons, throttling him with an unnatural strength; the shivering cold returned, and the encroaching blackness erupted in a blinding flash of white.
With a final pull, Shaun and Sara emerged from the portal. Julian barked orders as Will looked on, mildly relieved that they weren't drenched in some sort of foul ectoplasmic goo. A few things were better left to the movies; they were, however, pale verging on blue and covered in what appeared to be frost. A few members of the medical team immediately focused their attention on Sara, as Shaun breathed shallowly and collapsed nearby.
Julian went to his side and placed his fingers on Shaun's neck. "He's got no pulse. We need a doctor now!" he snapped, and the rest of the medical team dashed in and began to work.
Nothing. Shaun was in his own clothes, at his own age; not a child, not a teenager. Nothing and no one was around him, just a blank white canvas against which he couldn't detect where a floor, walls or ceiling might start or end. A lot like the Construct in The Matrix, only somehow Shaun didn't think a rack of assault weapons was about to fly in out of nowhere. Slowly, cautiously, he turned around and saw Barbara standing behind him. Back in her cardigan, the way she'd been appearing to him all weekend long...only this time she wore the most sorrowful face he'd ever seen.
"Mum...Mum, what's wrong?" he asked, walking forth and embracing her. He sighed; "This is so hard, but I thought I had it cracked. I had Sara, I had her in my arms but...Anyway, I'm glad to see you."
And it was then that Barbara burst into tears, sobbing uncontrollably against Shaun's shoulder. "Oh, pickle," she replied..."Oh, I wish I could say the same."
Julian crossed to Sara. "She's still unresponsive," the Council doctor told him.
"Use the defibrillator again."
"We've already zapped her twice. I'm sorry, sir, she's gone."
Julian leaned down to her face. "Sara, listen to me…this isn't your time to go…not now." He blinked at her pallid face and lashed out at the doctor again. "Do you have any adrenaline?"
"Her heart wouldn't be able to take the shock, sir."
"Just give me the damn syringe!" he barked.
"Better not argue, Wallace," Will added from behind them.
The doctor reluctantly did as he was told and placed the syringe of adrenaline in Julian's hands. "After every last mental thing she's done to make my life miserable this weekend," he declared, marking the spot where he would have to make the injection, "there's no way she's going to die on me."
Julian inhaled deeply, steadied his arm and plunged the needle through Sara's ribcage. He pressed the release and the adrenaline surged through her heart; instantaneously, Sara's eyes sprung open and she gulped for breath, lurching off the floor.
"And I thought that only worked in the movies," Will opined. "Well done, West!"
Julian ignored the ghost, wincing as Sara shrieked and yanked the syringe from her own chest, shaking like a leaf. "Are you okay?"
"That…was trippy," Sara quavered.
"You had me worried there for a minute," Julian said, motioning to the doctors to check Sara's vitals. "How are you feeling? Do you remember anything?"
Sara shook her head, and immediately regretted the motion as the searing pain of her prior head injury coursed through her body. "I blacked out when my head met the patio," she explained. "What happened?"
"Evie opened a portal. The other ghosts shoved Maggie through, but not before she pulled you in. Shaun went in after you and he brought you back."
"Shaun…where is he!" She moved forward and then stopped; Julian failed to meet her gaze and his blank look made her stomach sink like a stone.
"After he came back, he went into cardiac arrest. The doctors are doing their best, but…"
Shoving one of the Council doctors aside and tearing the pulse gauge cuff from around her arm, Sara leapt to her feet and pushed past Julian. She approached the spot where doctors had encircled Shaun's prostrate form on the floor. One of the doctors resignedly removed his stethoscope. "This one's gone."
"Oh, no," Sara insisted. "No, he's not gone. He can't be."
"We've done all we can."
"Defibrillator? A shot of adrenaline? You can't just let him die!"
"He's already dead, miss."
She wanted desperately to punch him in the face but settled for muscling him out of the way and kneeling beside Shaun. After a few fearful false-starts, she placed her hands on his face but felt no warmth. A sickening gut feeling wracked her body but Sara tried to hold it together. "Shaun…it's me. I know you can hear me. You need to come back now, okay?"
His chest didn't rise or fall, and his lifeless blue eyes fell vacant upon the ceiling. Gingerly, Sara reached forward and pushed the short little quiff of hair above his forehead to one side. "Hey, you still owe me a proper date, right?" she said, tears now streaming down her face. "If this is your way of getting out of it, it's not gonna' work…Shaun, please, it's not supposed to be like this…please, babe, don't leave me…"
For all the times she's apologized to him for putting him in the line of danger, all the times she'd warned him against getting himself killed...Sara thought she'd be ready for this. She was ready to die; that was part of the job, she'd always been ready to die. She had just about begun to come to terms with the both of them dying, going out together in a blaze of glory as she thought they might have earlier with the zombies on the back lawn. But she wasn't ready for this...she was absolutely not ready to be left behind.
Julian tried to place a hand on her shoulder. "Sara, it's no use."
"Don't say that!" she snapped, shaking off his hand violently. Desperate, Sara began doing chest compressions. "Come on, baby, breathe," she pleaded. She smoothed his tousled hair back, kissed his cheeks, continued performing CPR with no response. "Damn it, Shaun, you promised you wouldn't leave me! Now breathe!"
"Sara...Sara, please..." Julian was insistent, forcefully wrapping his arms around her waist; in the shadows, Will briefly considered using an extraordinary power to pry her away but his heart wasn't in it, and misted through the wardrobe out of the room.
"Oh, God...God, no..." Sara cried as Julian had to drag her away limp, racked with sobs. When she finally found her feet, she buried her face in his shirt. The doctor looked to Julian for guidance, and he nodded slowly. A sheet was placed over Shaun's body and everyone grew silent.
"Please don't do that," Sara asked, her voice muffled against Julian's chest. "Not yet."
"We need to get you out of here" her handler whispered. "Let them do their job, Sara..."
"I will, Jules," she sniffled, swallowing hard as her hands brusquely wiped at her eyes. "I will. But can I have a moment alone with him first?" Her bloodshot eyes pleaded with him. "Just a few minutes. Please?"
Julian regarded her with concern, then confident that she would be able to manage he nodded his approval. At long last, Detective Ashford moved from where she'd been observing the scene and crying in the corner and began to herd everyone out of the room. Julian kissed Sara on the top of her head and squeezed her shoulder reassuringly as he followed the last of them out and closed the door behind him.
It was quiet. Completely quiet and utterly still; Sara startled at the sound of her own footsteps as she approached the covered body on the floor. Kneeling again, she took the sheet between her thumb and forefinger and pulled it back slowly, letting out an anguished bawl as she looked down on his face again. With an unsteady hand, she reached forward and closed his eyes, then shuffled forward, lifted his head off the carpet and placed it in her lap. Her tears dotted his shirt as she stroked his temple and rocked back and forth.
"I don't know what I'm going to do without you," she spoke at last. "I don't know if I want to do this anymore, I don't know...anything. I still don't think it was supposed to be like this. But, uh...I just wanted to say thank you, Shaun. Thank you for my life. And...I'm sorry I...couldn't give you the same." Sara wept uncontrollably now, tired of trying to put on a brave face. "I'm so sorry I let you down, Shaun," she cried. "I'm sorry for everything. I'm so sorry..."
She repeated it again and again, more times than she cared to count. Until at last, there was only one more thing to say.
"I love you, Shaun." She didn't want to leave his side, but she knew she had to; gently resting his head back on the floor, Sara leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on his cold lips.
And then it happened.
For what seemed like hours, Shaun had been trying to get Barbara to calm down long enough to tell him what was going on. He couldn't get her to stop crying.
"For God's sake, Mum, will you please..." Before he could finish his sentence - something, someone, he had no idea what lurched into the space behind him and pulled him violently out of Barbara's arms. His mother gasped, reaching out to him as he was yanked off his feet, up into the air and through a burst of light that expanded above them and was gone again in seconds.
Barbara covered her mouth with the hands - it was all very frightening and sudden - but within moments heaved a huge sigh of relief. "Oh, thank God for that..."
The unearthly roar and shaking of the earth that surrounded the entire grounds of the hotel - startling the guests and police outside, knocking the rambling zombies on the lawn off their decayed feet, and sending everyone still inside the hotel hurtling into the walls and furniture - was frightening and sudden, as well. Julian toppled over into Detective Ashford and a line of lieutenants and Council operatives, and they fell like a stack of dominoes onto the hall carpet. Clambering up and looking behind them, a blinding white light had emerged from Room 34 and blew the already-battered door clean off its hinges.
Inside, Sara spluttered and struggled to sit up, a sharp pain in her shoulder where it had slammed against a med kit on the floor. She tried to open her eyes but the heat from the column of light before her was too strong; she covered her face with her arm and tried to inch forward to where the strange energy had erupted and caused Shaun's lifeless body to lurch off the floor. But before she could make another move, the column surged back into his body as quickly as it had appeared, and Room 34 returned to its earlier dark, eerie stillness.
A stillness broken only by the sound of a man coughing and gasping for breath.
"Shaun?" Sara whispered. No. Fucking. Way.
Julian, Ashford and the others beat a path down the hall and their faces appeared in the doorway. "Sara!" Julian yelped.
"Shaun!" she replied. Helping him up off the ground, cradling his shivering body in her arms, Sara began to laugh. The others remained where they stood, stunned by what they saw...but Sara simply laughed, and laughed, and laughed until she couldn't laugh anymore.
Actually, until Shaun buried his face in her neck and said, "Stop laughing at me, you joey."