Shaun rolled over. The thudding continued, soon followed by groaning. "You're not getting in", Shaun said.
He heard faster footsteps outside, then a scream. "Um, hello? Don't touch it! Get its head! Hello?" said Shaun. "OH, GOD, GET IT OFF ME!" screamed a terrified sounding young man. Shaun sighed and heaved himself off the bed. "Why am I the one who always has to do this shite? Shit", he grumbled. He grabbed a chair and quickly bashed it apart on a desk as he made his way to the door. He unlocked it and swung it open. The young man had already been bitten. "Oh, damn. Sorry..." said Shaun. He proceeded to use the chair leg to thrwart the zombie. "I think I'm gonna be ok", said the guy who'd been bitten. "Great", said Shaun. He didn't have much sympathy for soon to be zombies after what Ed had done. He knew he couldn't blame his friend for killing Liz, but he still was filled with anger. He was tempted to slam the door shut in the prezombie's blood streaked face.
He sighed. "You can come in, but I'm going to have to lock you in", said Shaun. "What? Why? Hey, what are you--" said the guy, but Shaun shoved him inside and locked the door behind him. Shaun threw the key away and headed downstairs to get another room. He again thought of going home to the UK. He looked wistfully at a trolly that he found in a hallway that had tea on it. Shaun stopped and poured himself a cup. As he slowly began to drink, he heard familiar shuffling behind him. Shaun picked up a large butter knife laying on the trolly. He spun and stuck it into the zombie's face, causing the creature to fall to the ground, and went back to his tea.
He paused when he heard running and yelling. A group of people were coming in from somewhere in the back. "We gotta get out of here! There's something in there, something crazy! It killed somebody!" shouted a guy. "Yes, I know. They're zombies. Sorry to tell you but your country's infested with them. We just went through the same thing over the pond. But I'm going to be staying here awhile, getting citizenship actually", Shaun said. "THERE'S ONE! IT'S MOVING!" screamed a woman. "Indeed," Shaun said in annoyance, turning back to the monstrous foe. "You may want to look elsewhere", said Shaun. He picked up the whole trolly, shaking the tea off of it, and smashed in the zombie's head with it. "So, what do you all do for jollies about here?" said Shaun.
"There's another one!" screamed a guy, pointing. Shaun shook his head. "Listen, you've got to hit them hard in the head. That's the key. I can't believe they're all over the place here, just when I arrive. Maybe I do attract them..." Shaun said.
"What? You brought them here?" said a woman accusingly, a dangerous look in her eyes. "No. Me? No! Just, a chill out, right? I can help you. I know how they're dealt with, what they're like. I'm an expert, you could say", said Shaun.
"Shaun? Shaun is that you?" said a woman, running in from the front doors. "Hello. Oh, hello! You're the lady from the bar, aren't you?" said Shaun. He'd met her that day when he'd arrived. "Yes, Betsy. You were you right, these zombies are just horrible!" she said. Shaun nodded. "Do you think if I cast a spell it would help? I know a little bit of white witchcraft", said Betsy. "White witchcraft? This is no time for Harry Potter bullshit, this is life and death here!", snarled the woman who'd just accused Shaun. "You know, I, I'm sorry to say it but I think that wouldn't work terribly well. The best way is just sharp blows to the head. You could try and use a Harry Potter book if you like," said Shaun.
"Wait a second, forget witchcraft. My uncle taught me voodoo when I was a kid! We need a blood sacrifice", said a guy with a demented look in his eye. "What are you playing at? You can't stop a zombie with bloody voodoo", said Shaun. "Playing? I'm not playing, buddy. I know what I'm doing so just step the fuck off", said the guy. "Well, where are you going to get a blood sacrifice?" said Shaun. "Are there any small animals in the building? Did anybody bring a pet?" said the guy, begining to hunt around the room rather mindlessly. "No! You can't sacrifice a life, that's black magic that can only make things worse!" cried Betsy, indignant. "Hey, you want to stop these things or you want to play fairie princess? Now somebody go find me a frigging cockatiel or a gerbil or something and I can... oh, shit", said the guy. A zombie had risen up behind him. "Watch out" warned Shaun. The thing had latched onto the fellow before anyone could react. "He's a goner. Everyone? Here's my suggestion -" said Shaun, but at that moment, a virtual parade of zombies was seen coming in through the front doors. "RUN!" said Shaun. They all took off for the back.
Shaun found himself out the backdoor and on the street once more. And there were zombies out back too. "Oh, God, this is it! I'm coming, mum! I'm coming everyone! Wish I'd stayed in the UK! No, don't say that Shaun. You can get out of this. This is your new home and you must fight for it." Shaun said, as the things moved closer.
"I know what I need. I need a GUN! They're all over this place. Yes, of course, it's brilliant. You're so clever, Shaun." Shaun said proudly. "Oh, I'm going to die..." he said, his eyes widening as he realized there was no way out. A truck came barrelling down the street, knocking zombies out of its way. It distracted enough of them so that Shaun could make a break through the crowd. He found a side street that only had a few wandering it, and he tore down it as fast as he could. He slowed as he saw a man on a moterbike up ahead. "Hello? Room for two on that?" asked Shaun. The man slowly turned towards him. It was one. Shaun lured the zombie from the bike, ran back to it, hopped aboard and zoomed off.
Trying to navigate through American streets with packs of zombies near and far was not the easiest ride Shaun had had, but he did alright. Most stores he passed by looked baraccaded or deserted. Shaun didn't try stopping. He kept going untill he passed through country, wide open fields with tiny old houses in the background. This area strangely seemed utterly devoid of zombies. Shaun felt hopeful, a smile coming to his face as he flew along, his tie blowing back behind him. He checked his petrol. Not good at all. He was damn near on empty. He would have to stop at the next farm house he saw.
Shaun made it up to a yellow house. He looked around. All looked clear. He hopped off his stolen bike and ran towards the house. He panted. "Hello? Hello, someone there?" he asked, knocking at the door. "Who is that? Can I help you?" asked a gruff, weathered man who looked in his 70s and raised his eyebrows at Shaun. "Yes... you see... er..." said Shaun, looking back behind him. "Well, I've run out of petrol. Er, gasoline", said Shaun. "Have you? Well, you're in luck. I got some outback", said the man. "How helpful!" said Shaun. The man handed Shaun a can of gasoline. "Ah, lovely. Thank you", said Shaun. "Why don'tcha come on inside, have a cup a joe before ya head on out." said the man. "Oh, no, I --" said Shaun. "Come on! Or don't they drink joe in jolly old England?" laughed the farmer. "Well, why not! You know I'm going to be living here permanantly, I might as well start drinking more coffee and less tea, eh?" said Shaun. The man slapped him hard on the back. "That's the spirit! Gotta get rugged, kid. You look like an anemic weasel or a fairy or somethin'" said the man. "Oh, how kind of you to say", said Shaun. "Name's Robert. What's yours?" said the man. "Shaun", said Shaun. The headed into Robert's humble home. As Robert went to prepare the coffee he turned his radio on. "...could be anyone, anywhere, best to stay inside and keep all doors and windows locked. Now if you encounter one..." came a voice from the radio. "Say, could I use your loo? Er, toilet?" asked Shaun. "Huh? Uh, yheah. Right back there", said Robert. "Ta", said Shaun. He headed into the loo. When he finished up and came back outside he saw Robert standing there with a garden spade in his hands. "Robert, noo!" shouted Shaun, raising his hands in defense. Robert slammed down the spade. "OUCH!" said Shaun, getting struck in the face. He felt his face sting and his lip bleed. "Get off!" growled Shaun, struggling with Robert for the spade.
"I am not a zombie! Let go!" said Shaun. They each pulled at the spade. The back door swung open. A zombified man stood there. "THAT'S a zombie. Where'd you come from?" said Shaun. "Shit! Get off my land!" Robert yelled. He tore the spade away from Shaun and charged forward. Robert drove the spade straight into the fiend's neck. "No, that's not how you do it.", said Shaun. He marched forward and yanked out the spade. A few jams above the neck and the zombie fell motionless. "That's how you do it, right? But a shovel'd work better." said Shaun. "Thanks, I gots a rifle upstairs but I wanted to take care of you straight away", said Robert. "A rifle? Wouldn't have a spare gun would you?" Shaun asked. "Sorry, sonny, just the one", said Robert. Shaun nodded and looked at the body. "You want me to move him out back then?" said Shaun. "Uh, thanks, Shaun", said Robert. Shaun waved him off. He hauled the body out back. Shaun ended up staying for a meal and then the night when he finally was overcome by tiredness. Shaun dreamed of Liz coming back, bursting out of Ed's stomach like an alien, and Ed had this zombified look on his face but he was giggling, and Liz was a corpse but not a zombie and she was glaring at Shaun. He awoke the next morning panting.