Death After Death (#2)

Chapter Thirteen

"We have to go back for them!" Karl bellowed.  

"Keep your voice down," Dawson replied harshly, peeping out the window of the small house they were now occupying.

The streets were still empty, Max's plan appeared to have worked. His suicidal sacrifice at least.

"We have to fucking go back for them," Karl whispered in sarcastic annoyance.

"We can't go back, Karl."

"What do you mean we can't go back? We're just going to leave them? That's my fucking brother, Daws!"

"I know it's your fucking brother! But if we go back looking for them now, we risk undoing the very reason they left!"

"You think I give a shit about that?"

"You should! Say we go out there searching for them, you do realise those kiddie corpses are still surging round looking for their next snack break!"

"Dawson, he's my brother. My twin brother."  

"I know, and we aren't going to abandon them, they saved our lives back there, and they're my family too. But we have to be smart about this, we can't rush out and risk the entire group."

"You're right, I'll go alone."

"Like fucking hell you will!"

"You can't stop me leaving Daws, you've got these two to worry about," Karl said, gesturing towards Rodney and George playing in the corner.

"I can stop you, and believe me kid, it would be easy."

Karl took a step towards the door, before Dawson side stepped across him.

"Take one more step and you'll be knocked out cold on this floor," she warned. "Believe me, I could do with the peace and quiet."

Karl shot a scorning look into Dawson's eyes, but backed down after a few seconds, knowing full well that he would not win that fight.

"So, I'm supposed to just wait here and let JJ die out there?"

"No, we sit here and wait for JJ and Max to come back...alive."

"You really think they survived that?" Karl asked, looking longingly for a positive answer.

Dawson responded honestly, "I don't know, I really don't. But if anyone could, it's Max. And JJ is a slippery little fuck, I'm sure they'll find a way out of it. They have to."

The pair fell silent as they pondered the many possibilities, and endless scenarios in which their two traveling companions could have found themselves in.

Rodney continued to play with little George in the corner of the room, pretending that he couldn't hear any of the quarrelling. He knew that there was no way Dawson would lose that argument, which suited him just fine.

George handed Rodney a small pebble he'd found on the dirty, cold ground.

"Ah, a stone, very nice," Rodney exclaimed with all the enthusiasm of a damp sponge.

George handed him another.

"A bigger stone...fantastic."

And another.

"Wow, what fun we're having ay Jordan?"

"George!" the young boy snapped moodily.

"Right," Rodney sighed.

Dawson chuckled to herself, he was trying, bless him, but he was about as natural with children as a duck in mud.

"How will they even know where to find us?" Karl asked eventually.

Dawson exhaled through pursed lips, "My guess is that if they manage to lose the horde, they'll double back and head down this road. They know we came this way after all."

"And if they don't?"

"Then we keep moving and meet them at the pit, they know where we're heading."

"How long are we going to wait?"

"We'll spend the night here, give them until tomorrow morning, but we can't linger for too long. Even if they did manage to escape, there's no way they got rid of all those clickers."