Chapter Twelve

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Max's eyes opened wearily, burning from the bright light seeping in through the living room window. He rubbed the crust from his eyes and rolled off the sofa, landing on the floor with a thump, empty bottles of beer tumbling after him and clinking on the floor. The music still blared from the jukebox in the corner, as Max supposed it had all night during his drunken sleep. He stumbled over and switched it off, waking Joey up as he did so.

"Shit, my head is killing me," Joey whispered, rubbing his temples with his fingers.

"Tell me about it," Max agreed, reclaiming his seat on the sofa, and cracking the window open for some much-needed fresh air.

"Has that music been on all night?" Joey asked with a hint of worry.

"Yep," Max responded bluntly, massaging his weary head.

"You don't think it attracted any clickers, do you?" Joey questioned, looking around as if there could be a group lurking behind him.

"Well if it did, I think we'd know about it. Wasn't our smartest move though," Max laughed. "Right. Coffee?" he added, hauling himself to his feet and scratching his leg.

"Yeah sure, thanks," Joey replied, as Max walked towards the kitchen. "Actually Max, come sit down for a minute!" he called after him.

Max did as he was told, only too happy to sink back into the padded luxury of the leather sofa.

"What's up?" he questioned.

"Remember last night, we were talking about how there was nothing we can do about the situation we're in and we have to let it play out; maybe hope someone else comes up with a cure or something..." Joey started, pausing to ensure Max was with him.

"Yeahhh..." Max responded, wondering where Joey was going with this.

"Well, why should we do that?" Joey said.

Max was unsure of what to reply so just let his friend carry on.

"Why should we let other people do the work and hope it sorts itself out?" he continued.

Again, Max felt that Joey had more to say and so nodded along to show that his attention was with him.

"We're both very good fighters, man. I say we go out there, out on the road, and we look for people. There must be other survivors out there; why shouldn't we be the ones to bring everyone together, maybe get some kind of community going again?" Joey asked seriously.

Max finally understood what Joey was getting at, and it actually made a lot of sense. Relaxing in the house and scavenging had been a nice break from the madness out there for a while, but it seemed a waste to sit back and let the world turn to rubble.

"You know what, I think you're right, man! What if there are people out there who could fix all this shit? What if they need our help, to protect them or fight or whatever?" Max agreed, excited by this sudden proposition.

"And even if we don't find anyone, let's take down as many of those fuckers as we can on the way!" Joey shouted, jumping to his feet in sarcastic exuberance.

"I'm in!" Max cried back.

"Up the revolution!" Joey yelled, jumping up onto the living room table and throwing his hand into a salute.

The two friends shared in a laugh of two, before walking together towards the kitchen, discussing their travel plans as they went.

"I think if we aim to..." Joey began to lay out.

Tap...tap...tap

"Did you hear that?" Max interrupted.

"Hear what?" Joey whispered, straining his ear towards the direction Max was looking in.

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