Chapter Two
1058 Words
"Move an inch and you'll be picking your Adam's apple up from your lap!" Dawson growled, squeezing the blade tightly against Max's skin to emphasise her point.
"What a friendly pub, I must come here more often," Max retorted dryly.
"Who are you, and what are you doing here?" Dawson demanded.
"Look, I just wandered in here to find some free booze, that's all, I'm not looking for any trouble," Max assured, finding it hard to calm down his assailant with his back to her.
Dawson shifted her feet a few steps to the left, always keeping the knife pressed to Max's windpipe. She wanted to get a better look at the intruder, as she craned her neck round the side of the bar.
"What's that in your pocket?" she asked.
Max sighed and swore under his breath, "Ah s**t, okay listen, this might look bad but believe me, I do not want to hurt anyone, I jus-"
"What's in your f*****g pocket?"
Max felt the serrated edge of the blade press tighter against his throat, making it difficult for him to breathe. One solitary drop of blood ran down his neck as the knife ever so slightly broke the skin.
He moved his hand slowly down towards his pocket, not wanting to spook Dawson any further.
"I'm going to my pocket. Again, I do not want to hurt you, this was just for protection."
His hand slid into the pocket and retrieved the revolver, muzzle side first, to make it clear that he did not plan to shoot.
As soon as Dawson saw the weapon, her army background kicked in. She kept her knife hand steady against Max's throat, while the other snatched the gun at lighting speed.
"Get on the f*****g ground!" she ordered, sliding the knife away and planting two firm hands around the pistol, with one finger twitching over the trigger. One false move from Max, and she would not hesitate to shoot.
Max had started carrying the gun around with him recently He found that it managed to scare off a lot of unwanted trouble, and generally provided him with some peace and quiet.
"Okay, okay, let's not get carried away here! I'm just going to back out towards the door and you'll never see me again," Max promised, slowly starting to edge towards the exit.
"You'll do no such thing! Stay right where you f*****g are!"
Max continued to step backwards, keeping his eyes fixed on Dawson all the time.
"I said stop moving!" she warned.
Max carried on.
BANG!
Dawson recoiled in shock, staring down at the weapon in her hands. She hadn't meant to shoot, she was just warning him. She had always been prepared to take the shot, but not if she could avoid it.
Dawson had fired a pistol hundreds of times before. She knew the feeling in her hands, the vibrations, the sweet smell of burning gunpowder. She felt none of those things in this moment.
"Guess who found champagne? This guy!" Karl sang as he pranced into the room, joyfully swigging from a freshly popped bottle of bubbly. He stopped immediately once he clocked what was happening in front of him. "Well this looks intense," he smirked.
"Are you f*****g kidding me Karl? Do you have any f*****g common sense?" Dawson screamed at the young man.
"What?" he responded defensively. "How was I meant to know you were having a little Mexican stand-off in here? I thought it was just a random corpse you were dealing with!"
Karl took another swig, as he struggled to wipe the smirk from his face.
Max couldn't help but chuckle.
"And how come you look so calm?" Dawson snarled. "I sure as hell wouldn't be laughing if someone just took a shot at me!"
"Let's just say I would have been very surprised if you'd hit me," Max smiled.
"Oh, you don't think I could hit the target old timer?" Dawson growled, as she raised the gun up to aim straight between Max's eyes.
"Oh no, don't get me wrong, I'm sure you're a great shot and everything. I've just never met anyone who could shoot a man without bullets," Max laughed.
"Son of a-" Dawson mumbled as she flicked the cylinder out, revealing six empty chambers.
She glared at Max, who simply grinned back at her.
"Now I think it's best for everyone if I just down my beer and leave," he said.
"And what makes you think I'm going to let you walk out of here?"
"Oh, I don't know, just call me a cheery optimist," Max beamed.
Karl spat out a small amount of champagne, which earned him a death stare from Dawson.
"What? That was funny!" he argued.
JJ and Rodney emerged tentatively from their spot by the stairwell. They had been woken by the champagne blast, and had watched on from afar ever since. Neither were the kind to embrace confrontation or wade into a situation such as this.
"Nice of you two to turn up," Dawson shot, but she wasn't really angry at them, she just didn't like being made to look stupid.
Rodney looked down at his shoes to avoid eye contact. As JJ opened his mouth to retaliate, Dawson raised a hand to silence him. She craned her ear towards the entrance and cursed at the faint chorus of clicks that grew louder by the second.
"s**t! Corpses inbound! They must have been attracted to your little midnight drinking Karl," she exclaimed accusingly.
"Corpses? Is that what you call them?" Max asked.
"Well yeah, what do you say then, Mr Expert?" Karl mocked.
"Clickers."
"Ooh, that is better to be fair."
"We don't have time for this!" Dawson boomed. "JJ and Rodney, go collect up our things! Quickly!"
The two guys did as they were told without a moment's hesitation, as they scrambled back up the stairs to retrieve what little belongings they owned.
"Is there a back door?" Max asked hurriedly, as he leapt back over the bar and began rifling through the bottles behind it.
"What makes you think you're calling the shots now?" Dawson asked.
"I'm not. Just get your guys out the back, okay? I'll lead the 'corpses' away!"
Max plucked up two large bottles of beer, cracked them open, and drained out the liquid. He hopped back over the bar and headed towards the door before he turned on his heels and walked back over to Dawson.
"Yoink," he smiled, as he snatched the gun from her hands and returned it to his pocket.
"See you in hell!" he winked as he stormed out the front doors towards the converging group of clickers.
- Writer
