Snatchers 2: The Dead Don't Sleep (16 page)

"And if he comes back?"

"With that leg?" Pickle cackled. Karen's face was lacking any type of humour, so Pickle cleared his throat and took on a more serious tone. "Then he gets shot."

There was concern on Karen's face.

Pickle added, "Don't worry, I don't think we'll be seeing him again in a hurry, isn't that right?"

Bonser shook his head continuously. "You won't see me again."

"Let's hope not," Karen snorted.

Chapter Thirty Three

It had been days since she had seen her husband, days since the incident happened, and days since she had had a reasonable night's sleep. She had been in the house for a while now and welcomed the fact that it was vacant.

When the initial outbreak occurred, she grabbed her daughter and fled the place. She knew her husband could handle himself and was hoping to wait out into the street for him to make an appearance. What she didn't know was that the street was also plagued with these vagrants who tried to claw, grab, and even take a bite out of her and her daughter. Thinking that these frightening souls were somehow crazy or infected with something, she ran as hard as she could with her screaming daughter in tow, because she came to the conclusion that she was putting both of their lives in danger by waiting around for her husband.

Her husband never did make an appearance and she had no other choice
but
to run, especially when she saw a neighbour being brought to the ground and attacked by a group of the things. She had a daughter to think of. The street was scattered with seven or eight of them, excluding the ones that had got into the house, and it felt like that there had been a breakout at the local asylum.

Earlier, she had heard a thudding noise at her front door, and went to see who or what it was. She opened the door and two of the things spilled into the hallway. In hindsight, she should have pushed them back out, locked the door and ran upstairs and wakened her husband, but how was she to know, on that surreal Sunday morning, her house was to be invaded by these things? It was a miracle her and her daughter weren't bit. Her motherly instincts also included the protection of her child, and she fought tooth and nail by pushing, kicking, punching and even head-butting, on two occasions, these creatures, before she grabbed her daughter off the floor and made a run for it out through the front door.

They grabbed her and tried to claw at her as she barged her way past into the wide open.

At first she thought it was burglars. She had heard a story in the local paper about an elderly couple last Saturday afternoon being robbed at knifepoint, and once they were tied up and had informed the two teenage burglars that their cash savings were hidden under the mattress and that there was jewellery in the bedroom cabinet, they went to those places and instead of untying the defenceless elderly couple after finding what they were looking for, they simply left them there tied up, as they left the premises and drove away in their clapped out vehicle. The old couple were found the next morning, but the gentleman had had a heart attack during the night whilst still tied up, and had been dead for hours.

As soon as she left the street, she found that the side streets were clear and began banging on the front doors of the houses while holding her daughter, but the residents were either asleep or they just wouldn't let her and her daughter in. At the time she had no clue what was happening, and was aghast that no one would open their door to her, apart from one couple who were in the middle of leaving anyway.

She ran over to the family who were frantically throwing bags into their jeep and saw the family, that had a five-year-old boy with them, in a rush to get out of the street. She begged them to help her and told them that she had been attacked. She remembered the husband saying to her: "They're here? Already? Oh, shit!" But she didn't know what he was talking about.

He ignored her begging and the jeep screeched backwards and left the street quickly, leaving their front door open. A man from two doors down opened his bedroom window and urged the woman to get inside the house and lock all doors. Noticing that her face suggested that she didn't understand
why
, he then finally told her to find a channel where the news was, and listen to it.

That entire hullabaloo seemed months ago, but since then, she had had a reasonably quiet existence.

She lived off the basic food that was left in the cupboards and the fridge, and was thankful that the electricity and the running water still worked, although she was convinced that it wouldn't last for long, so she made sure she ate things that needed refrigerated like cheese and meats, and left the tins until the fridge was left bare. Every two days she would also fill the bath. Before draining it, she would check that the water supply was still working then fill it again with fresh water. She knew it was a waste of water, but she had a daughter to think of.

It had now been over a week since she had left her husband, and still didn't know if he was alive or had suffered a terrible death. She assumed that if he was alive, he would be thinking the same, as both mother and daughter would have disappeared by the time he had woken up.

The curtains had been drawn since that fateful Sunday and knew it was a matter of time before either they were rescued, or her and daughter would have to face the realisation that starvation was a possibility.

She looked at her watch and had had another disturbing evening of noises coming from the outside. At one point she had heard a scream in the background, but Jocelyn Parker had managed to get her two-year-old daughter, Hannah, back off to sleep for another hour or so. Whenever Hannah had missed out on an hour of her usual twelve hours sleep, she would be troublesome for most of the morning until naptime in the afternoon. Jocelyn switched the kettle on and went for the fridge; she picked out a carton of milk and held it to her nose. It smelt funny the day before; it smelt terrible now, and there was no way she was going to give her daughter something that could make her ill. She would have to make do with drinking water, warm water boiled from the kettle or some of the blackcurrant diluting juice that was sitting in the cupboard.

Jocelyn jumped with fright as she heard a thump on the kitchen window. It wasn't anything new and that she wasn't used to, but it always unnerved her all the same. How long would it be before one of them would unintentionally break the window? Again, like the day before and the day before that, it sounded like one of them had stumbled into the window accidentally.

She lifted the blinds by millimetres to see that there were three of them in the back garden. She looked at her little girl who was oblivious to what was happening outside and she quietly played with two ornaments from the fireplace. Jocelyn knew that the moment they found that there was something or someone inside, the windows might as well be made from paper. She had already planned her survival. It was basic, but it was all that she had and it involved her running upstairs with Hannah, blocking the top of the stairs with the huge cupboard she had managed to empty and 'walk' across the landing, which would then be followed by locking themselves in the main bedroom, followed by prayers.

What else could she do? Without her husband, Paul, she felt useless.

Chapter Thirty Four

"Daddy?"

"What is it, champ?"

"Do you think the monsters'll be back?"

It was morning and the group were still in the cabin. Jack Slade glared at his son and had no clue how to answer him. He looked at Kerry who was as dumbfounded as he was, and his hesitant eyes went back onto his son who was still waiting for an answer. What was a father supposed to do? He wanted to protect his son—he was only six years old for Christ's sake, but at the same time, he didn't want to lie to him either. Jack took the easy option and sighed, "I dunno, son. I hope not."
Of course they'll be back! The place is littered with them!

The group were exhausted and predictably had very little sleep during the night.

Kerry sat closer to her confused son and placed her arm around her little man. "You don't have to worry about things like that, okay?"

The boy nodded unconvincingly with a scowl. He brushed his fringe from his eyes. Jack noticed that Thomas needed a haircut, as at the moment his hairstyle was reminiscent of the way The Beatles had their hair on the front cover of the
Rubber Soul
album.

Kerry brushed back her dark bobbed hair and continued to reassure her boy. "So long as daddy is here, and Paul...and of course, me, nothing will happen to you. Is that clear?"

The six-year-old's eyes looked to the ceiling of the cabin and he began to chew the inside of his right cheek, lost in deliberation. "Um, okay."

"Don't you worry about things like that," Kerry continued, and leaned over and kissed the top of her son's head.

"Besides," Lee spoke up, feeling a little left out. "Uncle Lee will sort those vagrants out." Then Hayward stood up and started comically performing some shadow boxing like an old granddad would, and threw a few half-hearted jabs. A few seconds later Lee had ran out of puff to the amusement of the child, and had to sit back down.

Thomas whined, "Mummy, I'm thirsty."

Paul scratched his head. "We're gonna have to go soon."

Kerry asked, "Back to the hall?"

Paul shrugged. He wasn't sure.

"When?" Jack quizzed.

"Ready when you are."

Kerry stood to her feet, with Thomas doing the same. He held onto his mother's waist; Lee Hayward and Jack also stood next to Kerry's side, and Paul stood next to the exit of the cabin with his right hand on the bolt of the door.

Even though nothing had been said, Paul seemed to be the unofficial leader of the group. "I'll check before we go out."

All three adults nodded back at him and he made no hesitation in opening the door and leaving the cabin. The morning was strange, and although it was hard to tell what the weather was really like until they were out of the woods, it appeared through the trees to be a dry, yet, murky day. Paul scanned the woodland and was confident that nothing else untoward was dwelling in the area. He looked over to the almost headless corpse in the distance that he had dealt with the night before, and was confident that if he remained standing where he was, the group, and more importantly, Thomas, wouldn't see it.

"It's clear," Paul lied.

First to come out was Jack, followed by Lee, Kerry and Thomas.

Kerry stepped out and breathed in the clear air and scanned the area herself. Knowing that Jemma Marlow's corpse was up ahead, Jack instructed Thomas to stay behind his mother, as all five of them slowly walked through the wooded area. Paul was about ten yards further up ahead, which suited Jack and Lee. Lee was anxious and Jack wanted to stay beside his son.

Paul turned around and looked at the group. "I think we should give the hall a miss and go the opposite way."

"What? No chance," Lee remonstrated. "Isn't that the direction those things went last night while we're all hiding in that hut."

"Yeah, but that was hours and hours ago."

Jack told Lee, Kerry, and her son to stay where they were, and walked the ten yards up to where Paul's presence was. Feeling the eyes of Kerry and Lee boring holes into the back of his head, Jack whispered, "What's really the matter? Why can't we go back to the hall? Even if we're surrounded by those things, we can lock ourselves in. And we've got all that food from the supermarket. It's strong enough to hold, isn't it?"

"Sorry, Jack." Paul lowered his head and nodded behind him, which was the way back to the village hall. "I didn't want to upset your son...or Kerry."

Jack's eyes weren't as strong as the man that was almost ten years his junior and took another walk ten yards past Paul's presence. He pushed his neck out and tried to focus with his eyes. His eyes then looked side-to-side like an old action man doll. He could see thirty...forty...maybe even fifty of the things in the distance; some were spread out in line as if it was a pre-planned attack, which it obviously wasn't, like something out of a Zulu film. They were gaining rapidly and the village hall was definitely out of the equation, and going back to the hut, curled up like frightened prey was an option he didn't want to pursue now it was daylight and they could now see where they were going.

With no time to lose, Jack called out to the rest, "Okay, let's go."

He burst into a light jog in a different direction, and a dumbfounded Kerry and Lee raised their arms and shoulders, their body language translating into: What's going on?

Understanding their body language, Jack said, "Trust me, let's run." He gave Kerry a wink and nodded at his son, informing his ex that he would explain later and that he didn't want to frighten the boy.

Both Lee and Kerry, who had a hold of Thomas' hand, ran behind Jack, with Paul casually jogging behind.

"Do y'know where the main road is?" Paul asked Jack from behind, with heavy breath.

Jack shook his head. "Usually you'd listen out for traffic—cars going by and stuff. That's usually an indication where the road is, but there ain't gonna be much of that now, is there?"

Jack looked over his shoulder and saw that the creatures had disappeared from his view. It didn't mean that they weren't there anymore; they just weren't being picked up by his eyes for the time being. Jack Slade occasionally looked down, still paranoid that he could be attacked by an adder. He bellowed to the group to try and follow his exact path if they could, but it was more for Thomas' benefit, as Jack didn't know what was around in the woods. He knew some illegal shootings took place, and was concerned that there could be certain traps lingering on the ground, discarded hooks, or other accessories from sloppy fishermen who would use the pond nearby.

"Jack!" Kerry screamed. As soon as she screamed out his name, she placed her hand over her mouth to prevent anything else coming out, but the damage had already been done.

He looked and saw three of them wandering clumsily to their left, about fifty yards away. The group all veered right, following Jack's lead, and the forty-year-old was beginning to panic. There was dozens behind them, and three more to their left, and he felt that if they came across anymore up ahead, they would be more or less surrounded. Surrounded with no weapons! The spear that Jack had, had been left in the wooden hut, but would have been hopeless in this situation anyway.

Jack stopped in his tracks, and the rest followed suit. He turned to the group who never questioned his action and announced, "I can hear a vehicle up ahead. Follow me."