Snatchers (Book 11): The Dead Don't Knock by Whittington Shaun

Author:Whittington, Shaun [Whittington, Shaun]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Zombie Apocalypse
Published: 2017-04-29T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty Eight

Paul Dickson could see that the three girls had arrived and watched as they talked to Pickle, Karen and Vince. He raised a smile and was pleased that they had returned in one piece. When they failed to return yesterday, he feared for their safety.

He looked across at Joanne's house and gave her a wave, noticing her staring out of her living room. He gave her the thumbs up, asking if she was okay. She shook her head and walked away from her window, making Paul concerned for the young woman.

He decided to walk over and see how she was.

She wasn't Karen. Joanne was a sensitive thing that had been shielded from most of the horrors of this new world, and Paul knew that what had happened the day before would have scarred the woman, as well as many others. Their once-safe community was once thriving and a visit from thugs had created a lot of violence, leaving many Colwyn residents dead, but it could have been a whole lot worse if Paul hadn't showed when he did.

He had been given much praise yesterday evening and this morning for his involvement, but remained humble and was a little embarrassed by the attention. Even Stephen Bonser had come to his door and also apologised about the way he and the now-deceased James Thomson had treated him. Stephen also thanked Paul for not telling people that he and James had kidnapped him and dumped him five miles away.

He walked slowly across the road and headed for Joanne's place. Before he could raise his hand to knock the door, it opened, and Joanne stood shaking with tears in her eyes.

No words were exchanged; she just opened the door wider and went back to her living room. Paul stepped inside, shut the door behind him and followed the young woman. When he entered the room, she was already sitting on her couch with her head in her hands.

He remained on his feet, staring at her, when he asked her if she was okay.

Joanne lifted her head and wiped her tears with the back of her fingers. “I just can't stop thinking about yesterday. I hardly slept.”

“I meant to come over yesterday evening,” Paul tried to explain, “but going out with Pickle, removing and burying the bodies in the field—”

“It's okay. You don't have to explain.” Joanne cleared her throat and added, “It's thanks to you that no more people died.”

Paul's cheeks flushed a little. “I don't know about that.”

“Paul, don't you realise what you did?”

“I panicked.” Paul hunched his shoulders. “I was in a vehicle and saw those men and ... reacted. I lashed out.”

“You play it down all you want,” said Joanne, now patting the seat next to her, urging him to sit. “But what you did was incredible. I think you'll be taking Vince's place as Colwyn's hero.”

“It's not really a joking matter, Joanne. A lot of people died.”

“I know. And I'm not joking. What you did was...” Joanne was running out of superlatives to throw at Paul.

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