Death After Death (Book #2)

Chapter One

Dawson held the door open with one strong hand, ushering her three compatriots into the dusty, old pub with the other. When the last of them was safely inside, she threw one last quick glance down the street before following them in. Most of the small, rectangular windows were boarded up, but the odd cracks between the wood provided enough natural light to see. The place seemed abandoned, but Dawson knew better than to assume anything.

She carried an air of leadership in her every movement; every decision assured and confidently executed. She was far shorter than the rest of her group, however her immaculate posture added a couple of inches, and hinted at her army background. Her glimmering ginger hair was tied up into a ponytail, not because she preferred it, but because it was far more practical.

She was by no means bad looking, with her freckles and little button nose often being described as cute. She despised this. Cute was not what she wanted to be. And cute is not what she was. Despite the freckles and nose, Dawson was fierce and determined. Her perfectly straight pearly whites were rarely seen in a toothy wide grin; instead snarling at anyone who dared to cross her. She wasn't stocky, but she was powerful in strength and had an equally sharp tongue.

"Rodney! Karl! Search downstairs! Watch each other's backs and stay sharp!" Dawson barked, before leaning in closer to the young Karl.

"Keep an eye on him, you know what he's like, she whispered; nodding her head towards the nervous figure of Rodney.

"Aye aye boss!" Karl chirped back with a grin.

"JJ, you're with me," Dawson continued, turning to the remaining boy behind her.

He nodded, but didn't make a sound.

Karl and JJ were twins in appearance, but in truth that's where the similarities started and ended. Karl was an outgoing, loudmouthed joker of the pack, while JJ liked to blend into the crowd and do his own thing when he could. Despite their differences, the brothers still got along famously; they were just very dissimilar people.

JJ's thick brown, mop-like locks reached his shoulders, parted to reveal a fresh, young, olive skinned face. His eyes were a deep, dark brown and gave nothing away. Even though they were identical to his brother's, they didn't have that same spark in them. Karl exuded confidence and mischievousness, with his permanent smile framed by the deep, cheeky dimples on his face. His eyes were wide with life and although they were both tall, slim boys, Karl seemed to stand that extra inch higher. Dawson was glad that Karl chose to keep his hair short and stubby, otherwise it would be impossible to tell them apart.

Dawson raised her arm in the air and motioned towards the stairs, with JJ on her hip as she bounded over to them. She was quick and agile, but also silent. Her small stature meant that she was able to stay light on her feet, leaving behind only the most quiet of patters. Her raised hand clenched into a fist as she reached the opening to the stairs, silently commanding JJ to halt behind her. The staircase was pitch black and climbed far up into the darkness.

She tapped her knife against the bannister, the metallic clicks echoing around the building before slowly fading into silence. They waited. No movement. Dawson crept up the stairs at a snail's pace, her knifing hand pressed against her chest, ready to thrust out and stab any unwelcome guests.

The steps soon turned into a flat hallway, leading to one single bedroom, still engulfed by darkness. Dawson kept moving forwards, head flicking from side to side, constantly checking, constantly aware of what was around her. JJ's breathing was growing heavier.

"Stay with me JJ," Dawson whispered to settle his nerves.

He took one deep breath, then steadied himself once more.

Dawson stopped outside the bedroom door, thrusting her spare hand across JJ's chest, aware that he would be unable to see her hand signals in the sheer darkness.

"Wait here," Dawson said, almost sensing an internal sigh of relief from her young friend.

She gently gripped the door handle, pushing it down slowly and carefully so as not to make a noise. She eased the door open, thankful that it didn't squeak, and crept into the room. She could still hear JJ's heavy breathing behind her, but apart from that the coast seemed clear. She pressed her hand against the wall to her left and ran her fingertips along until she finally felt the harsh, rough wood of the window boards. She forced her knife down the side of one of the boards and pushed down sharply on the handle, levering the wood away from its perch with one loud creak.

The plank fell to the ground with a thud, bouncing on its corners before finally settling in a cloud of dust. Daylight flooded into the room, enveloping everything in a blinding whiteness. Dawson shielded her eyes, rubbing them until they finally blurred into vision, revealing to her horror that it was not JJ's breathing she could hear.

A clicker stood solemnly in the centre of the room, unresponsive for a few seconds, as if it had been alone for so long that its senses had become blunt. However, once its eyes honed in on the quivering figure of JJ in the doorway, its mouth water, nostrils flared and feet sprang into action. Dawson had never seen any of these monsters look so animalistic since the outbreak, saliva flew off in all directions as it bared its teeth and chomped at the air. Its legs moved so fast in the desire to consume JJ that it began to skid and scamper rather than run towards its target. JJ was caught completely by surprise, stumbling backwards in a blind act of panic.

Dawson sprang into action, bouncing across the room in two big strides, dipping her head down and throwing herself at the clicker. Her left shoulder collided with its waist and she wrapped one arm tightly around it in a rugby tackle type movement. As the clicker fell to the ground, she threw her other hand up into the air in a deadly arch, thrusting the blade down into the centre of the clicker's face. Blood spurted into her eyes and the unmistakeable sound of cracking bone reverberated round her eardrums. She fell on top of her motionless adversary, before rolling off where she laid, panting on her back.

Karl came bursting into the room, his eyes scanning around to grasp an idea of what had happened. JJ was leant up against a wall, still frozen in shock and Rodney followed Karl in more nervously.

"Hey! Hey!" Karl shouted, slapping his brother lightly on the cheek until he looked him in the eyes.

"You're fine, okay? You're safe!" He added before gripping his shoulder and rubbing it comfortingly.

"You alright over there, boss?" He called across the room to Dawson.

"You know it," she scoffed, jumping to her feet, and dusting herself down.

"Everything clear downstairs?" She asked.

"Not a peep," Karl replied.

"Great. Rodney, give me a hand with this fucker, and boys, bring all our stuff up. We're sleeping here for the night."

"M..me?" Rodney stuttered, eyes fixed on the lifeless body at his feet.

Rodney still wasn't used to the idea of death and killing which had consumed the world they now lived in. As much as Dawson tried to acclimatise him, it seemed that he would never be able to come to terms with the undead they now shared the planet with.

"Yes you! Now grab the feet and help me heave him down the stairs. I don't know about you, but I'm not sharing a bedroom with a rotting corpse; even if Karl's feet aren't a whole lot better."

Karl flashed her the middle finger before going back to calming down his brother.

Once the body was dumped outside, and the boys rolled out their sleeping bags upstairs, the unlikely group of survivors drifted off to a well-deserved sleep.

***

Dawson's eyes snapped open. A faint smash from downstairs threw her into action mode. All her years in the army had made her a very light sleeper, with extremely refined senses and almost a sixth sense for danger. She snatched up her knife from under her pillow and jumped to her feet.

"Everything okay?" Karl murmured groggily.

"I'm not sure. I think I heard something downstairs. I'm gunna go check it out, just stay awake for a minute in case I need you," Dawson ordered.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I'm up now," he yawned, sitting up and stretching.

Dawson tiptoed past the sleeping figures of Rodney and JJ, before creeping down the stairs almost ghost-like. Half-way down the staircase she could already hear rustling coming from the pub's main room. She lifted her knife that bit higher and readied herself for a clicker attack.

She poked her head around the doorframe and scanned the room with precision. She had expected to see a clicker or maybe an animal of some kind, but there seemed to be a large figure sat at a barstool with its back to her.

Dawson skulked out behind the bar, crouching low to remain undetected. She steadied herself, squatting just below where she knew the intruder was sitting, then she pounced.

She leaped up, darting forwards and pulling the person's head back with one hand, while pressing the sharp edge of her blade against their exposed throat.

"If you're going to kill me, at least let me finish my beer," Max said calmly.