Disclaimer: I do not own the 2004 film Dawn of the Dead and this story has no official ties with the film; this is a work of fan fiction. I do not receive any payment or any other type of gain from this fan fiction. All rights belong to Strike Entertainment and New Amsterdam Entertainment, as well as Universal Pictures.

So, I decided to revise this old story as a way to get back into my hobby of writing, improving the story line, grammar, etc - giving it a polish. Dawn of the Dead is one of my favourite films and it inspired this story i created years ago, wanting to delve deeper into the groups relationships in the mall and exploring a new character's story, as well as developing a romantic relationship with CJ, who I thought was a complex but redeeming character in the film.

So, I hope you all enjoy, thanks!

Chapter One

Time seemed to move slow for Angela Brown as she stared up at the clock. Setting her pen down, she began thrumming her fingers on the old, wooden desk, looking down at the homework sheets she just marked. Whispers and mumbles filled the large classroom, her students busy completing their set worksheets, though Angela didn't mind the quiet chatter, hating a silent classroom. Feeling her heavy eyelids droop, she abruptly sat up upright, taking a needed sip of coffee. She couldn't wait until the last bell would ring; today had been a long day filled with non-stop work.

Sighing under her breath, she picked up her pen and continued to mark homework while avoiding looking at the time.

For ten minutes, she littered red ticks or crosses across the sheets, completing the last one in that pile in time with the shrill shriek of the school bell, though it sounded like music to her ears. Students were quick to jump out of their seats, a chorus of chairs scraping and animated conversations filling the classroom. Shoving the now-marked homework sheets in their folder, Angela stood from her desk, gently stretching her back while walking to the front of the classroom.

"Remember class, the deadline for the Shakespeare presentation is tomorrow afternoon. The principle is coming here to watch you all present them, so memorise your notes and be prepared."

Sighs and moans followed her announcement, students suddenly looking worried, even panicked. Angela only smiled with a shake of her head.

"If you need some help making last-minute adjustments, come to my room at lunch and I'll help, even though this is an independent project."

All her students perked up, some sighing with relief, even thanking her. Fortunately for Angela, she was a well-respected teacher, by her students and fellow faculty members; everyone seemed to appreciate her, which made her job as a teacher much more bearable.

"Oh, Heather," Angela said, quickly stopping the black-haired girl just before she left the room, "do you happen to know why Veronica was absent today?"

The teenager glanced worriedly at her best friend's empty desk and Angela knew something was wrong. Biting her lip, Heather hesitated, looking around before lowering her voice for only her teacher to hear.

"Someone tried to break into her house last night, some crazy guy banging on the windows– he attacked her dad when he went downstairs to confront him."

"What!" Angela whispered, careful not to let the other students hear her shock and leaned in closer. "Oh, my God, is she okay?"

"Yeah, kinda'," Heather looked behind her again before stepping closer to her teacher. "The guy was insane – chased Veronica's dad around the house and kept trying to bite him or something, so he grabbed a knife from the kitchen and stabbed the guy. The police came, her dad had to go to hospital… Veronica's at her aunt's house now because she's too scared to stay at home."

"Understandably," Angela said, astonished at what she just heard, rubbing a hand over her eyes to clear her head. "Jesus, that's horrible. I hope her dad's okay."

"Yeah, I'm gonna' go see her tonight, see how she is," Heather said, walking towards the door, giving her teacher a slight wave. "See you tomorrow, Miss Brown."

Angela nodded, offering a small smile. "See you tomorrow."

Receiving the last of goodbyes from her students, Angela sat at her desk with a troubled expression, Veronica's traumatic experience still playing on her mind. Robberies weren't uncommon in the town, but for the person to be so violent and relentless, it was unnerving for Angela.

Sighing heavily, she looked at the mountains of other unmarked work still piled on her desk. Ordinarily, she would stay behind at school to finish off marking assignments and essays, but her drooping eyes were telling her she needed rest. Grabbing her shoulder bag, she dropped it on the desk and began packing away the paperwork she needed.

With the heavy bag in tow, she locked the classroom door and walked down the empty hallway, heels clicking loudly. Opening the entrance doors, the warmth from the afternoon sun greeted her, a smile appearing on her face. Waving to other teachers leaving, she threw her bag on the passenger seat in her car and sat behind the wheel, starting the engine. Music drifted softly through the car and Angela bobbed her head with the beat, feeling much more relaxed. The drive home was peaceful, the streets just beginning to get busy as it edged rush hour while she drove through the town.

Turning the corner into her neighbourhood however, Angela quickly slammed on the breaks when a police cruiser suddenly came into view, obstructing the road.

"Shit," she muttered, caressing the back of her sore neck.

"Ma'am, please turn around or move along," a gruff voice promptly ordered.

A police officer stood in front of the marked car, arms crossed over his chest, blocking view from what looked like a two-car accident, more police cruisers surrounding it.

"What's happened, officer?" Angela questioned, craning her head curiously to get a glimpse.

With a better view, she could see the two cars had crashed into each other in a head-on collision. Bonnets on both vehicles had smashed into each other, the windscreen on one car caved in. The bumper on the other car had been completely torn off, lying in the middle of the road. Angela couldn't see the drivers in either car, since she hoped no one was critically injured, but did notice a bloody handprint smeared across the windscreen on the second car. Her view was immediately cut off when the officer stood in her direct line of sight.

"There's been a serious accident, ma'am, and paramedics are on their way," he explained, gesturing with his hands for her to move, "so, please move along or turn around."

Massaging her neck again, she offered a curt nod before reversing, taking the long way home. A few minutes later, the familiar small, white house came into view, Angela pulling into the paved driveway next to her roommate's car. She hauled her belongings out the car, dragging her heavy book bag up the steps leading to the porch. Before she even opened the door, she could hear the high-pitched laughter from her roommate, and when she entered the house, she scoffed amusingly at the sight she saw.

Cathy, her roommate and close friend, sprawled over the luxurious couch, her head hanging off the edge of the seat with her legs swinging in the air. Dressed in sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt, she held the house phone to her ear, looking like a teenage girl straight from a rom-com film. Glancing at Angela, she gave her a little wave of her nimble fingers, suddenly giggling into the phone.

"Okay, I've gotta' go now, Angela's home. Love you too, baby, bye," she said, ending the call.

"Was that Mark?" Angela asked, dropping her overweight bag on the table, imitating her friend. "Love you too, baby!"

"Shut up," Cathy chuckled, tumbling off the couch and returning the phone to its cradle, "anyway, you're home early."

"Decided to bring all the work home to mark, too tired to stay there," she yawned, stretching her arms. "Hey, did you see that accident up the street?"

Flopping back on the couch, Cathy grabbed the television remote and hummed in answer. "Yeah, I saw it on my way home from work before. It looked bad, but the stupid cop told me to take a different route."

Unpacking the contents from her bag, Angela frowned thoughtfully at her friend. "Wait, you've only just come home? I thought your shift ended at two, since you were in early."

"Hm, I thought so too," she said, rolling her eyes.

Kicking her heels off and shedding her jacket, Angela sat next to her. "Why did they keep you in so late?"

Heaving a sigh, her rubbed her temples stressfully. "Today was crazy; out of all the years working in that hospital, I've never seen so many people rushed into the emergency room. People either had this new flu-like disease that deteriorates rapidly or wounds from being attacked."

"Attacked?" Angela questioned, head turning sharply to the blonde, "like, from an animal?"

"No," she replied, "apparently, it's related with these riots that have happened recently – I don't know, I thought it was only happening in the big cities – but trying to treat these people was hard enough. I was running around everywhere all day, and one of the patients bit me-"

"Bit you?" Angela interrupted, horrified.

"Oh, don't worry," Cathy said, waving her hand in a nonchalant manner, "he wouldn't let the doctor give him a sedative, so another nurse and I had to restrain him. In the process, he bit me on the hand; he only got me a little, but I still had to have it bandaged."

Bringing said hand up, Angela cringed when she stared at the covered hand. Carefully inspecting it, she saw the bandages wrapped mainly around her palm and thumb, tiny dots of blood seeping through.

"Shit, Cathy, that doesn't look like a 'little' bite."

Shrugging, she returned her hand to her lap, flicking through the channels on the television. "It's happened in the past to other doctors and nurses, it's nothing new. Just a bitch that it happened to me."

Angela couldn't see the funny side of it, instead thinking back to the conversation she had with Heather earlier.

"One of my students was absent today, and when I asked her friend why, she told me some crazy guy tried to break into their house, wouldn't stop attacking the dad and tried biting, so he had to stab him to stop him," she said, giving her friend a curious look; the coincidence was concerning for Angela.

"I've heard similar stories all day from patients, describing their attackers as 'insane' and 'relentless'," Cathy explained with a small wave of her injured hand. "I think it's a new type of drug, some illegal narcotic spreading to bums and teens, making them have bad trips. A similar epidemic happened a few years ago."

Angela thought for a moment, not particularly reassured by her friend's words but just let the topic end there. "Well, whatever it is, hope it dies off soon."

Murmuring in agreement, Cathy suddenly turned to her roommate with a wide grin on her face. "Anyway, enough of the doom and gloom – look what I brought for us."

Reaching behind the back of the couch, Angela tried to steal a peak at what her friend was doing, Cathy swatting her away. With a slight triumphant noise, she sat up right with a bag in her hand, revealing a very large bottle of red wine. Angela rolled her eyes, shaking her head at the blonde.

"Cathy, no-"

"You mean, 'yes'," she smiled, also revealing two glasses and a corkscrew from the bag.

Leaning back into the couch, Angela glared at the bottle of red. "I'm not getting drunk, I have papers to mark."

"Who said anything about getting drunk?" she asked, pulling the cork from the bottle with a pop.

The brunette scoffed. "You know damn well we'll drink that whole bottle tonight, and we can't handle alcohol like we used to when we were younger."

"Hey! Are you calling me old?" the blonde accused her friend, head snapping up. "I'm not old!"

"I'm not calling you old," Angela said, arms folding loosely over her chest, "but you're thirty-three and I'm thirty-six. Everyone knows your alcohol intolerance flies out the window once you hit thirty, and we're no exception; the last time we had 'one drink' I called in sick with a hangover while you puked up in work."

"We'll just pace ourselves," Cathy said, ignoring Angela's last sentence and poured two very full glasses of wine. "We need to relax, we've both had a hard day today."

"I can't, Cathy, I need to mark these papers," she said, pushing away the glass that was offered to her.

The bubbly girl stared silently at her stressed friend. Angela could almost see the cogs turning in her head when Cathy glanced at the work bag and paperwork on the table. Setting the glasses of wine down, Cathy was already at the table before Angela could stop her, shoving the papers in the bag and flinging it in the corner. A choked cry of protest left Angela's mouth.

"You need to relax tonight," Cathy said, returning to the couch and sitting closer to her friend, "you look exhausted and stressing yourself out even more isn't going to help now, is it?"

"But-"

"But nothing," she bluntly interrupted. "You've been busting your ass for weeks now to the point that your bringing work home with you. Just for one night relax with me, enjoy a drink or two."

Debating her words, Angela was pulled between the situations; she enjoyed her job, but she knew she was prioritising it too much, and she didn't really feel like marking even more work till late in the night. Looking between her bag and the glass of wine, she bit at her bottom lip, the internal struggle strong. God, she hated when Cathy was right.

Throwing her hands up in defeat, Angela groaned. "Fine, one drink."

An hour later, the brunette donned a similar outfit to the other woman, worn sweatpants with a yellow pyjama top, sipping on a glass wine. The friends laughed girlishly at a cheesy sitcom, the alcohol influencing their whimsical humour. Throughout the evening, they lounged on the couch, drinking and eating leftovers from the fridge. At one point, Angela dozed off for an hour, only waking up to a pained moan.

Cracking an eye open, she found through her blurry vision Cathy sitting on the edge of the couch, her head in her hands.

"See, I told you," Angela slurred, "was a bad idea to drink."

"No, it's not that," she moaned again, rubbing her head, "I don't feel good – got a headache and I'm sweaty."

Angela sat up, though too fast as her head began spinning. Regaining her balance, she clumsily placed a hand to Cathy's forehead. Though she was damp, her skin felt cool to the touch.

"You don't feel like you have a fever."

Scraping her hands down her face, Cathy swayed when she slowly stood up, reaching out for the wall to steady herself. Angela attempted getting up, but the other woman shook her head, motioning for her to stop.

"You stay there, finish the bottle. I'm going to bed, try and kick whatever this is."

"Think it could be an infection?" Angela asked, glancing at Cathy's injured hand.

"No, the doctor cleaned it up and gave me a shot. Probably just a bug or something."

"You sure?" she asked, picking up the last glass of wine.

"Yeah, you sit and relax," Cathy weakly smiled, taking small steps across the room. "See ya' in the morning."

"Night," Angela called, watching Cathy wobble away until she disappeared into the hallway to her bedroom, before slumping back against the couch.

Turning her attention to the television, her eyes focused on the black and white movie playing. From what Angela gathered, she was watching an old-school horror film, a woman screaming as a human-like creature chased after her through a forest. Angela snorted at the bad acting, sipping her wine down to the last drop. After a few moments, she felt her eyelids drooping, everything around her fading to black when they finally closed.

Opening her eyes, early morning sun peaked through the windows and across her face. Squeezing her eyes shut, she turned over, groaning as her whole body ached terribly. Cautiously opening her eyes again, Angela came faced with the purple cushions of the couch, then realising she had passed out last night, not even making it to her bed.

Feeling a little woozy, she sat up with her back against the armrest, checking the time on the clock opposite her – five AM. Again, she groaned since it was too early for her to be awake, almost an hour before she had to get up for work. Looking around, the television played the stand-by screen, and on the floor laid her empty wine glass. Reaching to pick it up, the sound of tires squealing, followed by a thundering crash, came from outside. The noise startled the brunette wide-awake, bolting up-right.

"What the hell?" she whispered to herself, heart racing slightly.

Hangover seemingly vanished, Angela decided to investigate, pushing herself off the couch. Feet touching the plush carpet, she staggered over to the window, her body feeling the effects of sleeping awkwardly all night. Reaching the large window, she timidly peaked through the gaps of the blinds, only to gasp at carnage on her doorstep.

Thick smoke rose in the clear radiant sky, forming a cloud above a car that had crashed into a streetlamp. The car had to have been speeding, Angela deduced, the front end crunched around the streetlamp, which had now snapped in half due to the force from the car. The windshield was cracked, and she couldn't see anyone moving in the car.

"Shit," she said anxiously, moving away from the window.

Grabbing her cell phone from her workbag, which had been untouched since Cathy flung it yesterday, she ran to the door. A strong burning smell hit Angela when she stepped outside, but as she neared the car, she couldn't see anything on fire. Instantly checking the driver's side, she found a man unconscious, face down against the steering wheel with blood dripping down his head.

"Sir, can you hear me?" she asked, dialling 911 on her cell phone. "I'm calling for an ambulance."

The line only rang once before it cut off, an automated voice saying, "sorry, we are experiencing a high number of calls, please hold the line."

"High number of calls?" Angela repeated, scowling at her phone.

"Oh my God, what happened?"

Angela looked up to find her next-door neighbours, a middle-aged couple, running over to the car in their night gowns. The man used the dish cloth in his hand to stop the bleeding on the driver's head, while his wife surveyed the damage in horror.

"I don't know, I only heard the crash from inside. The driver's unconscious," Angela explained, closing her cell phone, "and I can't reach the emergency services, so I'm gonna' try the house phone."

The couple stayed with the driver, Angela running back inside the house to use the landline. However, she skidded to a halt in the hallway upon re-entering. A pair of legs poked out the bathroom door at the end of the hallway, lying flat on the floor. It took a moment for Angela to process what she was seeing before it hit her.

"Cathy?"