Author's Note: Hey, hi, howdy! For any first timers: welcome! And for those of you who may recognize the title: welcome back! Thank you so much for dropping by.
I originally began this project back in 2016. This chapter in particular may reflect that, seeing as how it was originally written back then and has only been fine-tuned since then rather than torn down and rebuilt. It is only now, in 2024, I have reached a point where I can feel I start posting this fic and see it through to the end. Crazy, huh? (I take this shit waaay too seriously, lmao.)
If you've seen Dawn of the Dead (2004) and enjoy it to the obsessive level that I do, I hope you catch all the little nods and references to the original as well as the supplementary materials sprinkled throughout.
Without further ado: let's begin :)
DISCLAIMER: All names used in this story represent fictional characters. Any similarities to real life people are completely coincidental.
May 8th, 2004
8:15 AM
Outskirts of Janesville, Wisconsin
Melissa Zavala was not a morning person.
She groaned miserably in response to the phone's ringing. Nobody she knew would dare call her this early in the morning, not unless they had some kind of deathwish. Blindly, Melissa reached out from under her blankets. She fondled the dresser next to her; nothing. The phone continued to ring, every sound it made grinding down her sanity further and further.
"Hijo de la chingada…" she growled to herself.
Finally, she found the cordless receiver and snatched it off its base. She hit the green talk button and put it to her ear.
Not caring who was on the line at this point, she grit her teeth as she spoke, "this had better be good."
"How about "promotion to news anchor" good?" the voice on the other line said – it belonged to her twenty year old cameraman, Mikey Riddel.
Who else but Mikey? She thought to herself, then asked, "what the hell are you talking about?"
"Well," Mikey began. "Some really crazy shit is going on right now, and if you really want a shot at that news anchor position like you've been saying, we should probably go in today."
"What?" Melissa repeated.
"Just..." She heard him sigh. "Just turn on your tv, okay?"
"Mikey–"
"Melissa, trust me on this one. Turn on your tv!"
Frustration flared again. Her fingers tightened around the phone. If her exercise routine went beyond "stay in shape", she was sure it would've crumbled in her grasp. If only it were Mikey's dumb little throat. She thought, nostrils flaring as she grunted.
Melissa finally sat up, bleary eyed. She squinted, trying to will it away. When that failed, she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand then picked up the remote. As she aimed it at her television, she fantasized smacking it upside her poor camerman's head for his crime against her. The screen flashed to life, light expanding from its center. When it came on, she saw one of her Channel 3 co-workers – Jonathan Shaw – talking about a race riot going on in Madison.
"Race riot?" Melissa repeated Shaw's words then lifted the phone back to her ear. "Mikey, what does he mean "race riots"?"
"Dunno," Mikey replied. "Some big fights and shit have started breaking out, that's all we know so far. It's getting pretty crazy, though. We're getting mixed information from a lotta different sources, so it's hard to tell how bad it really is. Shaw said he wants to go check out Madison himself."
"Himself? What the hell? Shaw's our star news anchor, he hasn't been out in the field in... shit, I don't know how long."
"I know, right? That's why I called you! I know it's your day off, but I've been keeping an eye on this for an hour now and it seemed like an opportunity you wouldn't wanna miss."
"Good call." Melissa said, any anger she'd had about being so rudely awoken already forgotten. She threw the blanket off her, sitting up on the edge of the bed.
"Is anybody else covering the story?" she asked.
"Uhh well, the only national news station I can find that seems to care is WGON, but they're treating it like a backburner story," Mikey said. "Milwaukee 48, KSVU, Local 12… they're all trickling info here and there, but nothing major, it looks like."
The screen suddenly switched to the face of another reporter; yet another co-worker. Melissa's eyes narrowed as Katherine Landfear began to talk. She was at St. Augustine Memorial hospital with a live report.
"Johnathan, the staff here says they haven't seen anything close to the sheer number of injuries…"
Mikey saw it too, on his side. She heard him groan out, "shit."
"Oh, that pretentious bitch," Melissa grumbled, standing up and pulling off her tank top. "Alright, alright, I'm not letting Landfear get the better of me. Give me fifteen– no, no, ten minutes. I'll be ready in ten minutes."
On the other side of the phone, Mikey laughed. "Alright, I'll meet you at the station!"
"See ya then."
Melissa hit the end button and tossed the phone onto her dresser as she went into the bathroom to take a shower.
Mikey was waiting at the station when Melissa pulled in just before nine o'clock, leaning against the driver's door of his Jeep Wrangler. She pulled her sedan into her parking spot. Overly sweetened cup of Hollowed Grounds coffee held between her teeth, she climbed out as she fished a hair band out of her pocket. She pulled her still damp hair back into a ponytail and tied it.
"Ten minutes, huh?" Mikey asked with a smug look on his face.
Melissa rolled her eyes and took the cup from her mouth. "Cállate la boca, Mikey. How do I look?"
He shrugged and gave her a charming smile. "As good as you always do."
She wrinkled her nose at his attempt to flirt with her and brushed past him.
Hurriedly, they made their way into the news station. Mikey filled Melissa in on some of the more frivolous details as she gulped down her five dollar coffee. Events had begun unfolding sometime yesterday, late afternoon; just little incidents here and there which had grown into what could very well be a full-fledged catastrophe. The inside of the news station was bustling with more activity than she had ever seen! Everyone was chattering and running around fetching information, paper, supplies or food for other people.
An intern brushed past them, mumbling a hasty sorry, and went out the door.
Even from all the way down the hall, Melissa could hear their station director shouting orders from his office. As the journalists approached, the video editor and producer came out, halfway between a walk and run. They didn't acknowledge either Melissa or Mikey as they passed. She rolled her eyes once they'd gone by. Typical.
Melissa entered the director's room first, Mikey close behind.
"I thought I fuckin' said–" Channel 3 News station director Milton Dietrich's scowl faded as he laid eyes on her. "Ah, Mel. Shit, good to see ya!"
She hated it when he called her that. "Charming as ever, Milton."
He waved a hand dismissively. "Sorry 'bout that," he said, sounding anything but apologetic. "Fuckin' people 'round here don't know their assholes from the color orange, and everybody's so fuckin' frantic that we're barely gettin' shit done as it is."
The chair groaned against Milton's overabundance of weight as he leaned back in it, rubbing his temples.
"And Shaw!" Milton lunged forward, slamming his fists against his desk and caused it to rattle all the way through. "Fuckin' Shaw! Insisted on goin' out on assignment himself, don't know why. Guess bein' the eye candy wasn't enough for him this time, he wants to be a real reporter today! Pretty boy Shaw has left the fuckin' building!"
Melissa would have volunteered herself to take his place, but she knew better than to push her luck when Milton was riled up like this. Besides, she knew that David Barrows was next in line.
"Anyways, that's shit to worry about later. Right now, my plate is fuckin' full. Madison's gettin' rammed up the ass by God knows what 'n they ain't the only ones. Gettin' reports from New York, Chicago, San Antonio, all of 'em are seein' the same shit Madison's seein'. I'm up to my fuckin' eyeballs in news and I'm startin' to run outta people to handle it."
"Well, that's what I'm here for, Milton," Melissa replied with an overly polite smile. "I even came in on one of my days off, as you can see."
"That so?" Milton smirked. "Alright, if ya feelin' that ballsy, I got somethin' you can take care of for me."
Melissa arched a brow as Milton yanked open one of his desk drawers. He pulled a pack of cigarettes out of it, removed one and tucked it between his lips; he struck a match next, lifted it, lit the end. He took a deep breath, then exhaled a thick cloud of smoke before he continued.
"Senator Seth Graham," he said. "You know him?"
"As much as I need to." Melissa answered, wrinkling her nose.
She knew of Graham – one of the senators of Wisconsin – from the rumors that he wasn't very faithful to his wife. Nothing had ever come from those rumors though despite the digging various news outlets had done. Guess the man's pockets were deeper than their shovels could reach.
"Better get off'a that high horse before ya bust yer hymen, sweetheart." Milton scoffed and leaned forward, supporting himself on (luckily) his non-smoking hand.
"Me 'n Graham, we go back. It's one'a the reasons I wasn't interested in runnin' stories about those "scandals." What Graham does with his dick is between him 'n the broads he sticks it in." After a pause, he glared at her. "Allegedly."
Melissa furrowed her brows and crossed her arms in response.
Undaunted by her scrutiny, Milton continued.
"Anyways, the short version is that Graham owed me a favor for wavin' those stories away, so I went ahead 'n called it in," he explained. "He's out in Milwaukee right now. Safest place to be as far as I know; whatever this shit is, it ain't spread that far yet. He's willin' to give us an exclusive interview about what's goin' on here – or at least what he's allowed to say – and since you're so fuckin' eager to do yer job, I'm gonna do us both a favor send ya to 'im."
This time her brows rose. "Really?" she asked, unable to hide her excitement.
He took another puff of his cigarette, then said, "yes, really."
"Oh my God, thank you!" She beamed.
Milton rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah," he grumbled.
"Look, Mel, just don't fuck this up, alright? You're as smart as you are pretty - and lemme tell ya, you're a fuckin' doll - but Graham's an old buddy'a mine. You ain't never steered me wrong before, but there's a first time for everything. Make sure today. Ain't. It." He said sternly, stabbing the desk with his index finger with each word.
"You do a shit job and that reflects on me. Big time. He'll never gimme the time'a day again and I can't afford that. Ya fuck up out there 'n you can find yourself a new career somewhere far, far away from here, ya got it?" His gaze flicked over to Mikey, who was leaning by the doorway. Milton pointed a large, meaty finger at him. "Goes for you, too, wiseguy."
"You can count on us." Mikey said with a toothy grin.
"Her," Milton jerked a thumb at Melissa. "I know I can. You, I'm not so sure."
"Hey!" Mikey huffed. "What's that supposed–"
"Don't worry, Milton," Melissa cut in, nudging Mikey hard in the ribs. "I'll keep my eye on him. I always do."
"Great, now get outta here. I'll call Graham 'n let him know you're comin'. He'll get everything set-up by the time ya get there." Milton explained. He took another drag on his cigarette, exhaling through his nostrils as he reached for the phone on his desk.
Mikey grumbled under his breath, something Melissa didn't care enough to ask about as she dragged him out of the room. Instead she told him to go get the van ready while she gathered up some things. He complained but complied. Then she went to her desk, got down on one knee in front of it, and unlocked the bottom drawer. She pulled it out and removed a large stack of files, useless drabble that hid the true reason she'd come here: a black metal box. It required a second key and a three-digit combination before it opened.
Nobody besides her knew about this box. It was a secret she kept all to herself. Inside this secret box were a couple of things.
Five one-hundred dollar bills, folded neatly and tucked in the corner. A small, compact audio recording device she kept in handy just in case she ever needed to be secretive. The highest quality camcorder she could find with a half a dozen extra tapes. A handheld LED flashlight, a multi-tool, an extra set of keys to her car as well as a lock picking set. Lastly, and most importantly, a stun gun with an extra battery.
She took the stun gun (its extra battery, too), the lock pick set, the multi-tool, the flashlight and the camcorder along with all of the extra tapes. Those, along with the tape already inside, was roughly 600 minutes of film. They had tons of recording equipment already, but it didn't hurt to be extra prepared.
Especially on an assignment as important as this. If Milton was as serious as he seemed, she couldn't afford otherwise. Everything else was for "just in case," whatever that may be.
Tucking the majority of these items into her bag – save the multi-tool and lockpicking set – Melissa locked the box back up, tossed the files on top of it and finally went out to join Mikey. He was sitting in the driver's seat of the idling van, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel. She went around and climbed into the passenger's side. As soon as she buckled up, they were off.
It was usually an hour and a half drive from Janesville, where Channel 3 news headquarters was located, to Milwaukee. However, with the police occupied with more important matters, Mikey was left to his own devices. Without fear of being pulled over, he managed to cut the trip down to forty-five minutes and she was certain he'd nearly killed them half a dozen times during the trip.
It was eleven minutes past ten when they arrived at their destination.
They pulled up to the address, a tall but otherwise inconspicuous hotel with a red banner above the front doors – the Hilton Milwaukee. There were already several reporters and journalists on the outside, eager to get in and speak with the senator. Mikey pulled the van around into a small alley beside the building, just like they had been instructed to, and they were met by a professional-looking security guard with a pistol strapped to his hip.
"You're not supposed to be back here." He said without introduction.
"We have an appointment," Melissa replied. "Tell Senator Graham that Channel 3 news is here, Director Dietrich sent us."
He frowned and took a step back, pulling a radio from his waist. He spoke into it, relaying the information. A few seconds later he got the confirmation he needed. He nodded and began directing them on what to do and where to go. He and a couple of other guards helped them lug their equipment into the hotel, which was surprisingly barren. Melissa found herself wondering if the senator had rented out the entire place. They set up shop in the lobby, with security and police personnel blocking all the visible entrances and exits.
After some time, the senator came out of an elevator and approached them. Seth Graham was not an unattractive man for his age with an all too charming smile, a polite demeanor and his dark, short cut hair all slicked back. She supposed that his good looks and charisma is what got him his position. But all of that couldn't make up for the way her skin crawled when he first laid eyes on her and one corner of his lips lifted. It was if she could feel the way he raked his eyes over her.
Melissa resisted the urge to roll her eyes and forced a smile. "Senator Graham?"
"My reputation precedes me," he said and chuckled. "You must be Michael and Melissa."
"That's us!" Mikey said with a toothy grin.
"Yes, we're very pleased to meet you, Senator," Melissa replied, giving her cameraman a sideways look.
"Oh, the pleasure is mine," Graham said with a blatantly flirtatious smile. "Forgive all the security, it's all a formality for a man of my stature, I assure you. We actually have this entire "race riot" situation, if you will, under much more control than most of your competitors and colleagues would have you believe."
Melissa smiled thinly. "Well, I'm sure the people will be happy to hear that."
"Mm, I hope they are," Graham replied, not even bothering to hide the fact that he was looking her over again. "Anyway, I just wanted to come down and check on you. It looks like you're just about ready..."
"Yes, Senator, we are," Melissa said. "Mikey here is good with equipment, if nothing else."
"Excellent." Graham smiled, nodding. "Well, I'm very much looking forward to this interview. I live to serve the American people and nothing would make me happier than putting their minds at ease."
Melissa found herself fighting not to gag at how overly showy this guy was. "You're an inspiration to us all, Senator."
With a purr, Graham reached forward and grasped her hand.
"Oh please, if the cameras aren't rolling, feel free to call me Seth." He said with charm, brushing his thumb over the back of her hand. The only thing that kept Melissa from snatching her hand away was her job.
That, and the mental image of jabbing this sleazeball with her stun gun and watching him piss himself.
If only.
Still, this was a role to play and Melissa was up to the part. "Seth," she said in her best, pseudo-flirtatious tone, fluttering her lashes.
Graham ate it up and smiled again, this time kissing the back of her hand before letting go. "I'll be back down in about twenty minutes," he assured them, then turned and went back to the elevators.
Once he had disappeared behind the metal doors, Melissa shuddered and wiped her hand on Mikey's shirt, who was snickering.
"Holy shit, that guy wants you sooo badly," he teased.
"Almost as much as you do," she snapped back, which made him blush.
As much as it amused her to watch Mikey squirm, they had work to do.
Credit where credit was due, Senator Graham gave a damn good interview.
He was cool, professional and knew how to dodge, side-step and answer questions without actually answering them as well as any spokesperson she'd ever met. It was more annoying than impressive, but more pressingly, it was disconcerting. Melissa hadn't been feeling uneasy before the interview, but she certainly did now. Nobody like Graham avoided questions like that if the questions didn't have answers that people wouldn't want to hear.
It was these murky thoughts that made her miss the footsteps.
"Melissa," came Senator Graham's smooth voice. If it were anybody else, it might have been nice to hear her name spoken that way.
She turned around, smiling politely. "Yes, Seth?"
One corner of the Senator's mouth lifted as she said his name.
"You're a very good reporter. If you'd like to do a more in depth interview…" he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a plastic card, looped in notebook paper. "This is a spare key to a room I'll be staying in at a hotel across the Menomonee river. The details are on the note. It's private, away from my security detail so they won't trouble us," he explained, holding the card out.
Oh my God, is this really happening?
She glanced at the small piece of plastic in his hand, then back up at his face. Despite the way the hair on the back of her neck stood up, she reached out and took it from him gently. Everything about this despicable little man made her skin crawl, but she wasn't about to jeopardize her livelihood right in front of him. He wasn't worth it.
Instead, she smiled pleasantly, the way he wanted her to.
"Well, well, well…" Melissa said. "That's such a generous offer. Channel 3 news would appreciate the opportunity."
Shrugging his shoulders casually, the Senator chuckled. "Well," he leaned closer. "Any friend of Milton's is a friend of mine."
Milton was a prick, but he knew better than to expect her to sleep with this guy to get a good story. At least, she thought he did.
She continued to smile until the Senator leaned away from her again. Like an actor slipping into their role, all that sleazy charm melted away and the professional stuck a hand out. "It was a pleasure to meet you," he said.
"Likewise." Melissa replied, reluctantly taking his hand.
He nodded, then turned and walked away. Melissa wrinkled her nose and looked down at the card he'd given her.
What a brazen display of unearned confidence. She thought. Es un puto pendejo…
It was like the man didn't care at all about the scandals. He was a career politician; of course he didn't have any concern. Rolling her eyes, she tucked the paper and plastic into her jacket pocket as Mikey walked up.
Apparently he'd seen the little exchange because he said, "You got a thing for married guys? Huh. Maybe I should try getting married…"
She glared at him.
Mikey grinned sheepishly, lifting his hands. "Shit, lighten up. I was only kidding."
"If I ever find out you get a girlfriend and cheat on her, I'll cut you from your neck to your nuts." Melissa said with total seriousness. She hefted the last of their boxed supplies off of the floor and shoved it roughly into his arms. The cameraman grunted, frowning.
"Now be a good little boy and carry this to the van, yeah?"
Mikey sighed. He wasn't always the brightest, but he had a good sense for danger and he knew his joke had put him in hot water. He did as he was told without another word. She watched him go, then turned around.
Graham was just stepping into the elevator, the same security guard who'd greeted her and Mikey by his side. The senator smiled and winked at her just before the doors closed. Melissa grimaced, not only because the man was a creep but because something just didn't feel right.
She took one last look at the hotel lobby.
Perhaps it was just the emptiness that uneased her. After all, a place like this wasn't so devoid of people all that often in the middle of the day. And just as she thought that, something occurred to her: there were no hotel employees in sight. Just the police, Graham's security detail, and the people outside. Even if Graham had rented out the entire hotel building, the employees should still be around, right?
Biting her lip, Melissa turned and began walking towards the exit that would take her back to the news van.
Author's Note: Feel free to completely ignore this bit. It's just sentimental ramblings :)
It has been somewhere around 15 years (yikes!) since I published the original Through The Valley of Death back in 2009 - which in and of itself was a re-write of another story under the title Military Man, which was written and published (probably?) in 2007. So here we are, once again, revisiting one of the first fanfiction I ever wrote (and to date, the second one - third, if you count the original version - I've ever actually finished lmao). With a decade and a half more writing experience under my belt, I've decided to take a crack at revising this story yet again... why, you may ask? Well, for some reason unknown to me, Dawn of the Dead (2004) has basically lived in my brain rent-free all this time. It is hands down my favorite zombie movie (clearly) and I still watch it at least three times a year... and probably much more than that.
Over the years, I have repeatedly gone back to re-read my own material and as time has gone on, I've become less and less satisfied with what I (re)wrote back then... (tell me "I'm a creator" without saying "I'm a creator" lmao.) The reviews and the meager support I received for that story still warm my heart to this very day. I am very much aware Dawn of the Dead (2004) has never been an incredibly big fandom, so I never expected big numbers and I still don't. This is, and always has been, nothing but a passion project for me, which I want to share with the world.
So thank you all who ever reviewed it back in the day, and thank you to all the reviews I lost when I took the original Military Man story down.
While my first rewrite was more of an update to the same story, just with a fresh coat of paint, this attempt will be an outright overhaul of the entire story while retaining the same basic premise. Whereas the original TTVoD was to Resident Evil what the REmake is, this will be more akin to what RE2make is to Resident Evil 2.
If you'd like to read the original version of this story, it is still up and I have no plans of taking it down no matter how cringe it is. However, should my plans for this entire story come to fruition (doubtful, given my track history), then we can officially consider it de-canonized, so to speak... but for preservation's sake, it will remain where it is.
So once again: if you are a returning fan of my work(s), I'm so glad to see you again and I hope you enjoy this expanded, completely rebuilt retread of a story that already exists.
If you're a new face, thank you so much for clicking on this fic and giving it a chance. I hope I don't disappoint.
To anyone and everyone who has made it this in this silly little author's note, I hope that this story captures your attention to see it through to the end and that it satisfies you. I have grown so much as a writer since I first started 20 years ago and I truly hope that shows in this rehash.
This will (hopefully) be the last time I re-write this story. My only wish is we all walk away from this fully satisfied.
Thanks for reading!